I need critiques on this.... A LOT. I'm not really sure what I think about it. ^___^;;;




Night has nearly fallen upon the mansion of samurai lord Aoyama Tessan.

As the sun swings across the sky to its rest beneath the earth, it is first obscured by the fragrant cherry blossoms bowing from slim, dark proffered fingers, then the gently swaying chrysanthemums, pale as mist and alluring as sorrow. The household, a mere shadow of what it used to be, prepares for the night to come.

But not for slumber; not for rest.

The slender stems of the chrysanthemums stripe the molten sun dark. The grasses frolicking in the breeze are abruptly lit afire.

Then darkness slams its seal upon the sky.

No breath or footstep is heard thereafter; no lanterns remain lit, no light whispers bid pleasant dreams.

Though Aoyama Tessan prides himself on his immaculate grounds, and his wife takes joy in leisurely strolls down nature-arched pathways daily, there in one spot that lies neglected, in despair. Near the edge of the estate there stands a stone well, its wooden cover beginning to rot, weeds, lichen and delicate flowers growing all over the pock-marked rock… some shooting up boldly in the starlight, others merely peeping out shyly from their damp homes.

On this night when no living soul is stirring, a slender white hand reaches up from the depths of the well.

One.

Setting down softly on the rim, followed by another as silent as a moth’s landing, the hands, so delicate in appearance, alternately clench and move as a woman’s sleek black head emerges, followed by her tea-green kimono.

Two.

Pulling herself up arm over arm, until her knee rests heavily on the edge of the well. Finally, she gains her footing and stands, effortlessly balancing on the crumbling rim as if it were the sturdiest of ledges.

Three.

Tilting her head back so her shining black hair slips back over her shoulder to hang in a long, untidy sheet, sheared off abruptly at her waist.

Four.

Black eyes set in hollow sockets staring at the stars as they begin to emerge from the darkness, one by one.


Five.

Waiting.

Six.

Wondering.

Seven.

Intent…

Eight.

…On one thing.

Nine.

“Nine…” a faint voice drifts from between blood-red lips.

Nine?

“Nine…” The thin whisper rises to a wail. “Nine!”

Only nine!

A devastated shriek rips through the night, shaking the mansion’s foundations and its inhabitants’ spirits.

Terrified, they listen as the sliding doors rattle open, hear the sound of crockery shattering on the floor as if thrown down by frantic hands.

Finally, the awful crashing diminishes… only to be replaced by a more ominous sound.

“One… Two… Three…” A young woman shrilly proclaims. “Four… Five… Six… Seven… Eight… NINE! Aoyama, where is the tenth?!”

Again a shriek, a rush of wind that rattles the sliding doors… then absolute silence.

In his bedchamber, Aoyama Tessan, sitting upright on his futon with his sword at the ready, abruptly drops the weapon as if it has grown a thousand pounds heavier and moans. His eyes are rimmed in grey and appear to have sunken into their sockets; his pale face, the skin appearing to have been stretched over the skull, and his quivering, bloodless lips are truly a ghastly sight to behold.

“Okiku… Will you continue to plague me forever?”

~*~

“Okiku! Okiku!”

Okiku, a maid of eighteen years serving in the house of Aoyama Tessan, looked up as Saiyori rushed into the kitchen. “What is it?”

“Okiku, the Master has summoned you!” The maid exclaimed, pushing a strand of dark hair out of her eyes. “Hurry; you don’t want to displease him.”

“I’m coming.”

Okiku quickly abandoned her dishwashing duties, splashed water on her face, straightened her hair and simple kimono, and went to answer Lord Aoyama’s summons.

Pausing outside his room, she called politely, “My Lord, it is I, Okiku. You have called for me?”

“Yes. Enter,” came the reply from within.

With lowered eyes she slid the door open, stepped inside, and closed it behind her as quickly yet silently as possible before bowing to Lord Aoyama, first going down on her knees and then placing her palms on the floor before her, lowering her forehead to the back of her hands. “How may I serve you, my Lord?”

“Rise.” As she raised her head and straightened her spine until it was as stiff and straight as a bamboo pole, she saw him turn to a large wooden box beside him, ornately carved with images of nightingales and cherry blossoms and polished to a mirror sheen, and insert a small key into the gleaming golden lock on the front. He turned the key, removed it and placed it inside the sleeve of his rich silk haori before turning back to Okiku, pushing the box towards her. “Here. Open it.”

Okiku was shocked. Was the Master truly asking her, a lowly servant- a dishwasher, no less- to lay her hands on this treasure? She couldn’t do it! She was sure to be clumsy somehow and break whatever was inside it and fall out of favor with the Master, and then… She had to restrain herself from swallowing the lump that had suddenly risen in her throat, choking her with dread and anxiety.

“M-my Lord, I can’t… I mean, I shouldn’t! I mean-” How could she express what she felt without seeming impertinent and disrespectful? But the Master interrupted her with a chuckle. “Don’t worry. It’s all right.”

Again she was shocked. How could the Master speak to her in so lighthearted a fashion? But she had to do what she was told. Moving as if in a daze, Okiku lifted her arms, extended her hands towards the beautiful box in front of her, and raised the lid.

Inside were ten of the most beautiful plates she had seen in her life. They were larger than her head and more white and smooth than new-fallen snow. The broad rims were painstakingly decorated with paintings of bamboo and a strange, cup-shaped flower, intertwined together and outlined in gold paint. The flower alternated between yellow and a vibrant red.

Okiku could not restrain a gasp of delight. The Master smiled at her, showing all his teeth. “The flowers, I am told, are called ‘tulips’. These plates are from the land of the Dutch. They were made specifically for this family; there is not another set like this one in all the world.”

As the Master spoke, Okiku grew perplexed. Her fears and doubts returned. “My Lord… If I may be so bold as to ask, why are you showing me this?”

Still he smiled. Leaning forward slightly, he said, “My wife will be gone for several months, visiting her maternal relatives to the North. She will be taking most of her attendants and favored servants with her…. There will be few here to see or gossip. While she is away and unaware, come spend the nights with me.”

Okiku froze, staring at the Master open-mouthed. Was he asking her what she thought he was?

A great loathing for him filled her entire being, followed almost immediately by great fear. She knew she would have to refuse him; no matter what, a man like this had to be refused. He would go behind his wife’s back with a servant girl! He would go behind his wife’s back at all! It was the most despicable thing she had ever heard of.

“M-my Lord….” She bowed so that her forehead once again touched the floor. “My Lord, I must refuse. It is not right… it is not right for one such as yourself to even consider to… tarry with one as low and unworthy as I. Surely you can understand…. If something went wrong, my Lord, your good name would be ruined, and all because of me! Surely, my Lord….”

The Master’s smile had vanished. “You refuse, Okiku?”

The tone of his voice made her start to tremble in spite of herself. “My Lord, I do, but please my Lord, it is only because-”

“You refuse me. You refuse my presence, you refuse reward, you refuse honor.” He stood and turned away from her, facing the wall, showing her his back. “I have nothing more to say to you. Leave. At once.”

Okiku was only too glad to obey.

~*~

Aoyama’s wife listened as her most trusted maidservant related the news to her. The Lady’s lips grew tighter and tighter, smaller and smaller, as her maid continued to speak.

“So,” she bit out when her maid finished. “That’s it. My husband has betrayed me for a dishwashing commoner. Lower than the dirt on my sandals. I am of great wealth, great breeding, great connections…. And he turns his back on all of this and instead chooses her.” Her fists clenched in her lap. “How dare she. I won’t let her get away with this!” She stood and headed for Aoyama’s rooms. “No, she shall reap what she has sowed.”

Just outside Aoyama’s door, she called, “Husband, it is I, your wife. May I come in?”

He did not answer, so she simply admitted herself.

He turned around when she entered and frowned. “Wife, don’t you know not to disturb me when I do not wish to be bothered?”

“Oh, close your mouth before you lose something you might need,” she snapped at him. “I came only for the plates.”

“The plates?”

She gathered the box into her arms and stood, grunting slightly at the weight. “Of course! They must be gathering dust by the ton, shut up like this! It’s a disgrace, keeping them in this box only to decay. I’m going to have them put on display in the receiving hall, where they belong.”

Just before she left, she added with a hidden smile, “But first, I’m going to have them washed.”

“Okiku! You’re being summoned again.”

She felt a stab of fear. “Again?”

“I don’t know why, but it doesn’t sound good.” Saoyori looked
apprehensive. “I’m to come with you this time, to make sure you respond
right away…. Did you do something?”

“…I don’t know,” she lied.

The two girls went to great receiving hall, where the door was flanked on
either side by two guards. There, Saoyori stopped and glanced at Okiku
with worried eyes. She anxiously returned the look before entering
between the guards.

The Lord and his wife were kneeling at the farthest end of the hall. Their expressions were anything but encouraging. Another ice-cold blade knifed through Okiku’s chest as she advanced a few paces, then knelt and bowed as low to the floor as possible.

“My Lord and my Lady?” She spoke as humbly as possible, trying to mask her misery.

Aoyama was the one who responded. “Surely you know why you were called here. If you admit to your crime right now, I might be swayed to alleviate your punishment…. Somewhat.”

Punishment? “M-m-my Lord….” Try as she might, Okiku could not keep her voice from wavering. Her entire body trembled as she tried to shrink into herself as much as possible. “My Lord, I do not know what you are talking abo-”

“Silence! How do you explain this, then?”

Aoyama drew his hand out of his silken sleeve, strewing pieces of shattered china across the floor in front of him. He chose one particularly large shard and held it up for Okiku to see. “Tell me what this is.”

She looked…. And could not restrain a gasp bordering on a sob.

A scarlet bud, a length of bamboo, a glint of gold, all broke off on jagged edges.

The shard in Aoyama’s hand had once been a part of his prized collection of plates.

Okiku’s horrified eyes glanced rapidly from the shard to the face of her master and back again as she babbled, “My Lord, my Lady, I swear, I do not know what-”

“You do, you liar!” Aoyama’s wife burst out, her eyes wide and livid. “You miserable little rag, you broke one of your masters’ possessions and then dared to hide it from us! You conniving snake, you selfish worm, you-”

The merciless tirade might have continued, but Aoyama broke in. “Ten plates, girl. I used to have ten plates, but now I only have nine. Tell me why.”

“I don’t know, my Lord, I swear it!”

He was silent a long while before proclaiming, “Such a crime is punishable by death.”

Okiku stared wildly at him, tears running in rivulets down her face. He gazed back at her with eyes as hard as stone.

“Your execution will take place tomorrow at dawn. Until then, you will be placed under guard and-”

The doomed girl heard no more as her eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed full-out on the floor.

~*~

Okiku knew only a brief respite from reality before she found herself
in a small room, barren of furnishings, no doubt in some rarely-used
wing of the house. Everything came flooding back to her in a rush and
she threw herself at the door, pounding at it as she screamed to be
released, crying out her innocence, how it was all a horrible mistake!
The guard outside only pounded back, shouting at her to shut up.

At last she gave up her frenzied attempts at release and burst out into
loud weeping. She curled up on the floor where she was and gave herself
over to howling her despair.

~*~

Moments before dawn, they came for her. The guard who had been posted outside her door was unnerved by the sudden change that had descended upon the prisoner. All last night she had very effectively ensured he would not sleep at his post by either screaming through the door or sobbing in some corner of the room. Now, however, she walked to her death with a face as calm and impassive as if she was merely walking for leisure on a sunny day.

They walked her down to an unused well at the edge of the lord’s estate.
Aoyama, his wife, and a small group of others were already there-
Aoyama’s face grim, his wife’s delighted, the groups’ silent and tense.


The cover of the well was removed and set to the side. A long
rope was hung over it, and a complacent Okiku suspended from it by her
neck, waist, and wrists bound behind her back. Aoyama drew his sword
from the scabbard and prepared to strike through her body.

Before he could draw back his arm, however, Okiku’s face transformed. Her forehead furrowed, her eyebrows drew down, and her lips peeled away
from her teeth in a bestial snarl.

“Aoyama,” she growled, “Look at what you’re doing to me. Can you truly bear to run me through? Can you sleep soundly ever after, knowing that my body is rotting day by day in this well? Can you ever drink of water again without thinking of my bones?” Her voice rose. “Can you, Aoyama! Even if you say yes, yes, yes, I’ll make sure you regret it! I will come back, Aoyama, and I will have that plate! I’ll have it whole, and I will take it with me, and I will take you with me, and your wife, and I will force you to break it and fix it, break it and fix it, all throughout eternity as I
watch you! Think of it! The servant commanding the masters! I’ll do it,
Aoyama, you see that I don’t! So bring me the plate, Aoyama! Bring it
to me, so I can-”

Aoyama brought up the sword, and instead of running the raving woman through he immediately sliced through the rope that suspended her over the well. She fell without a sound, but as he lowered the sword with shaking hands, Aoyama could hear Okiku give one last, triumphant shout as she kicked to the surface before going under the water forever.

~*~

“The well was covered. Everyone left immediately. Nobody has gone near it since, but every night….” Aoyama breaks off and rubs a bony hand wearily over his sunken eyes. “Sir monk, please…. Rid my household of this vile spirit and let us sleep in peace again!”

The monk Seikei sits in silent thought, staring at some random space just over Aoyama’s left shoulder.

“And every night she comes out… she counts up to nine before returning to the well?”

“Yes.”

“Mmm.” Seikei closes his eyes and nods several times before standing. “My
Lord, if you would be so kind as to take me to this well…. Or perhaps
if you would just give me directions, I’m sure I could find my way
there myself.” He has seen the flash of fear in Aoyama’s eyes at the
mention of going near the well.

“O-of course.” Aoyama’s relief is clear as he points out over the gardens. “You’ll find the well over there, if you continue walking, and ignore the path.”

“I thank you. I’ll go there straightaway.” The monk bows from the waist and turns to leave.

“W-wait! What are you planning to do? Can you get rid of her straightaway?” The lord’s voice rings with hope.

Seikei shakes his head. “I’m afraid I must wait for night to fall, so that I
may confront the spirit directly…. And that reminds me. Might you also
direct me to your kitchens? If I must remain there until nightfall and
nobody else will go near the place, I might as well bring along some
nourishment for myself.”

~*~

The rice balls hastily prepared for the monk Seikei have long ago been devoured. The chrysanthemums have just painted the bright sun dark before being consumed in darkness themselves.

Seikei waits, his eyes closed in meditation as he leans back against the well.

The stars begin to blink their miniscule, twinkling eyes, one by one by one.

Seikei waits, his chest expanding and compressing in a smooth, slow rhythm.

The moon starts on its slow march across the night sky.

Seikei waits, with not even the faintest twitch of eyes or lips to betray fear.

And then, out of nowhere, a voice begins to speak.

“One,” a woman’s voice intones, low and husky with ageless composure and despair.

Resisting the urge to peer over the rim of the well, Seikei instead steals
himself silently away behind a nearby tree to observe, as the woman’s
voice continues to fall into the night like snowflakes of lead.

“Two… Three… Four…”

A head, shoulders, arms and hands softly and swiftly emerge from the well.

“Five… Six… Seven… Eight…”

Standing on the well, average in stature for a woman but able to cast a man into terror simply by looking upon her face, the ghost of Okiku is at once a beautiful and dreadful figure to behold. Seikei has seen his share of
haunts and apparitions, but even the twisted chaos of her eyes is
enough to make him hold his breath.

“Nine…”

Regaining control of his body, Seikei steps out from behind the tree, raising his rounded, sloping hat high in the air.

“TEN!” He shouts.

The spirit whips around, her hair writhing and flowing around her face.

She sees Seikei, standing beneath the tree, looking up at her even as she
stares down at him from her high vantage-point on the rim of the well.

She sees the sleeve of his robe sliding down his upraised arm towards his shoulder, as he appears to salute the sky.

She sees the hat in his hand, perfectly round and transmuted into a smooth, white circle by bright moonlight.

Okiku lets out a sigh, a deep, long breath that holds pains and fears and
breakings within it, releasing them all into the night.

“Ten.”

I thought it was really good!!
really nice description to, I could really picture it. Sppoooky stuff.

Good job :]