"Through His Eyes" | An epistolary horror short story

Subject: Inquiry Regarding Kadena Operations Review 

Date: December 17th, 2024 11:13 AM 

From: Carlton Everett <c.everett1959@email.com> 

To: Command Desk, Kadena Logistics Ops <log-ops.kadena@us.af.mil> 

To Whom It May Concern, 

Carlton Everett here—former consultant for Pacific fleet logistics (contract completed ‘92) now an occult investigator (yeah funky transition, I know).

I’ve been asked to conduct an informal investigation regarding the unusual reports you flagged at the base. They mentioned equipment failures, personnel anomalies, and… occult activity? Dark stuff I’ll admit, it’s strange enough to catch my attention, which doesn’t happen often anymore. 

I’ll be arriving this week. I assume your personnel will cooperate. My contract specifies no documentation beyond emails between relevant parties.

I’ve learned that paper trails are best left short when things are… complicated. 

On a personal note—Okinawa feels like an old song I haven't heard in a long time. Hoping to wrap up cleanly, and I’ll have a chance to catch up with some old friends in the unit. 

With luck, it’s just faulty equipment and bad rumors. 

Best, 

Carlton Everett

Occult Investigator 

---

Subject: A Surprise at Kadena 

Date: December 21st, 2024 10:08 PM 

From: Carlton Everett <c.everett1959@email.com> 

To: Preston Everett <p.everett@email.com> 

P, 

We need to talk. Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were stationed here? They flew me out to look into the "occult disturbances" on base, and I walk into Ops just to see your smug face grinnin at me during a coffee break. No heads-up? Same ol P.  How the hell you been?

You told me you were out of the game. Last I heard, you were working finance gigs back stateside. Now I find out you’re here—right in the middle of whatever mess this is. Care to explain? Or you too good to talk to your big bro anymore? 

I know things’ve been rocky between us since the wedding, but don’t do it like this man. Hit me up.

Anyway, what’s with the talk about the summoning circle in the ammo dump? I heard one of the junior officers say somethin about it—said they found you there with some other guys last month. Some kind of ritual, apparently. 

We need to meet. I got too many questions, and I don't trust anyone else here. 

Carlton

---

Subject: Where Were You? 

Date: December 22nd, 2024 1:32 AM 

From: Carlton Everett <c.everett1959@email.com> 

To: Preston Everett <p.everett@email.com> 

P,

What the hell man? You stood me up tonight. I waited for over an hour at Transit Cafe on the seawall (even though I did have a good burger).

You know I don’t do late-night meet-ups unless it’s important, and there I was, sippin flat beer waitin on your dumbass. 

Maybe it’s a game to you, P. Hell, maybe it always has been. But if you dragged me all the way out here just to get tangled in one of your schemes, I swear on Dad’s grave, I’ll beat your ass next time I see you. Not kiddin’ nigga. Don’t mess with me on this.

Anyway as far as work, things are movin. Slow, but movin.

I got a pass from the 18 MUNS to scope out the ammo dump. That place is CREEEPY. You ever been out there at night?

No lights, no traffic, nothin. It’s like somethin sucked the sound out of a speaker. To top it off, the place is goddamn maze. I was lucky to have some young Defender leading me around to where I need to be. Otherwise, I’d a been lost for hours.

I got out around one of those old WWII outposts - a small building meant for one or two men back during the war – and walked around. It’s the place where they say they host the summoning circle.

You won’t believe what I found.

Candle stubs, burn marks, and something scratched in Japanese on the walls – stuff that would make the average person shit themselves with fear. As for the Japanese I couldn’t make out everything, but it mentioned 加牟波理入道 (かんばりにゅうどう) or “Kanbari nyūdō.” (Hope you appreciate the Japanese, it took me at least an hour to find out what the Kanji meant.)

Heard of it? Apparently it’s some pervert yokai (ghost) that shows up outside bathrooms on New Year’s Eve. Sounds ridiculous, right?

But the kid driving me around said everyone on base knows to avoid that building after dark. He looked pale and shaky when he said it.

He said, one poor bastard claims he saw eyes peeking from the sink drain in the bathrooms out here. Now half his unit won’t take a piss out there after midnight. 

Saw my own reflection in the car window on the way back—thought for a second it grinned at me. Just my tired eyes playin tricks. At least, that’s what I told myself.

-Carlton 

---

Subject: About Kanbari Nyūdō 

Date: December 23rd, 2024 4:22 PM 

From: Preston Everett <p.everett@email.com> 

To: Carlton Everett <c.everett1959@email.com> 

Carlton, chill. You’re reading too much into this, like always. 

Yeah, I’ve heard of Kanbari nyudo.

Bro, it’s just a stupid local myth.

They say it watches people through bathroom windows and curses them with a year of bad luck.

I mean, come on—it’s just some folklore to spook suckas on New Year’s.

We thought we’d have a little fun with it, that’s all. No harm done. 

And look, I didn’t stand you up—I got held back in Ops.

Things are messy here, and I’ll explain when we meet. Trust me, it’s not what you think. 

This is an opportunity, Carl, one for me to settle my debt and get the hell offa this rock. It’s been too long since I had a good bean and cheese taco.

But let me tell you something bro, bad luck is a myth—something people believe in because they’re too much of punks to take risks.

But me?

I see a chance to turn superstition into profit.

Feel me? I got a an idea that could make both of us a lot of money. You in? 

Y’know even if it’s just belief that makes luck real, Carl, then why not control it?

Hell, maybe it’s stupid, maybe I am cursed.

But what’s the alternative? Sit around and do nothin'?

That’s not how we were raised. You know that.

And don’t get all high and mighty with me—I know what you did at your last job.

And if you’re not interested… well, maybe this curse will skip me and find someone else. 

Anyway, let’s meet tomorrow. I’m goin’ to the outpost you spoke of at midnight. Meet me there, and I’ll show you how this works. 

- P 

---

Subject: This Doesn’t Feel Right 

Date: December 24th, 2024 12:17 AM 

From: Carlton Everett <c.everett1959@email.com> 

To: Self 

I decided to write these observations in my notes app, since there’s no service out here.

The outpost smells like wax and something else—damp fur. P is pacin circles around the altar, mutterin nonsense under his breath. The guy’s always been an optimist, but this is delusion.

He says we’re summonin Kanbari nyūdō. Wants to “trap” it somehow. Claims if we do it right, we can harness the bad luck—turn it into gold, somehow. Just a trick of belief, he says. Nothing supernatural, just “the power of fear.” 

I don’t trust him. Something about this circle feels... alive. There are whispers in the dark, things weaving just beyond the candlelight in the woods. Feels like somethin’s smiling at me (and not in a friendly way). 

He’s lightin the last candle now. 

If anyone finds this email, know that I was here against my better judgment. If this goes sideways... well, I tried to walk away.

Believe me. 

---

Subject: [Draft Not Sent] 

Date: December 24th, 2024 12:56 AM 

From: Carlton Everett <c.everett1959@email.com> 

To: Preston Everett <p.everett@email.com> 

P,

what the hell have you done!? 

Aw shit man, I didn’t think it would go like this.

It was supposed to be a little money, but it wasn’t worth it.

Because now you’r fuckin’ gone! And all I have is this damned gold coin.

Aw fuck.

What’s worse? Somethin’s followin’ me.

Whenever I go take a piss or a dump, I feel the eyes on me.

He’s watchin me from the shadows. I can feel his gaze—those stretching eyes, barely blinking, pinned to my skin. There was a cuckoo sound, like a bird caught mid-scream, and then the hardest quiet I ever heard.

Kanbari nyudo is here.    

---

Subject: [Unfinished Draft] 

Date: December 31st, 2024 11:48 PM 

From: Carlton Everett <c.everett1959@email.com> 

To: Self 

It’s almost midnight. 

Kanbari nyūdō has followed me all week. Day night day night, night day night day – he’s there. I see him in bathroom windows, mirrors, even reflections in my spoon. 

What does he do?

Nothin. Just looks and smiles. Sometimes there, sometimes not. Heh it’s like he’s playin jokes on me, just like you used to.

What if he isn’t watching me? What if it’s just me, watching myself through his eyes? The thought crossed my mind, but didn’t change how I feel.

You know, Pops used to talk about ghosts back in Vietnam. Said the trees talked to him sometimes.

Whenever I see those bloated happy eyes I think: Dad is that you?

I know it’s impossible. But that’s what it makes me think of.

Dad used to say ghosts don’t scare you unless you owe them something. Maybe I owe this one. Maybe it’s the same—smiling eyes, always watching, waiting for me to move

It’s almost a new year. 2025 and I’m fighting a Japanese curse. This is fucked, fucked.

I don’t wanna die.

But I gotta go to the bathroom, かんばりぎゅうどう is pointing with his eyes. It’s the best time of year for him. I’ve been holdin it for a while, but there’s no avoiding

 ---

I went and it was worse than I thought. He appeared before me in full form.

When he stepped out of the mirror, his robes unfurled like wet rags, stuck in folds to his nasty skin. His eyes bulged, pupils twitched—like a child's toy winding down—before they latched onto me, glassy and patient.

Those stinking white robes full of filth billowed on the cold breeze from the window. He just watched and smiled the whole time.

And when I was almost done, he… he licked me, smiled and disappeared. It felt like a dog’s tongue without the warmth or excitement.

I can’t go on like this.

Whoever finds this email, know that there’s no shortcuts in life. Gotta deal with your shit before it deals with you.

My neck’s in the belt tied to the ceiling, a tight fit but good enough. I’m cryin'. Guess I should be. This is my fault.

Midnight is minutes away. Maybe it’s the only way out. 

Dad would understand. Maybe. Or maybe the ghost of him will keep watchin, just like Kanbari does. 

I bet you thought you’d figured it out, P. Thought you could cheat it. But you left me with this curse, and there’s no cheating it now. I’ll finish what you started.

I’ll step off

END

Thanks for reading!

Learn more about the Japanese yokai in this story Kanbari nyudo, here.

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