I've never been the kind of guy with a career that was more of the odds and ends type, you know, whatever paid the bills, construction delivery, even telemarketing. For a few miserable weeks, That's how I became a jahatsu, a night mover. See In Japan, the jahatsu were known as the evaporated, the people who disappear without a trace. They want a fresh start, away from debt, stalkers or just the burden of the life that they've built. But there's
another side to it. The ones who helped them disappear. That was us. We'd show up after dark, no lights, no noise, pack up everything and leave, you know, as if nothing had ever been there. The last we knew about the clients the better, no real names, no question cash only. Most of the time the jobs were pretty straightforward. We'd move people escaping abusive relationships, financial ruin, shady business deals,
you know that, ones that went belly up. Sometimes it was kind of sad, you know, quiet families, hollow eyes, kids clutching toys as they vanished into the night. Other times it was almost too easy and empty apartments, bags already packed. Just a quick grab and go. I learned not to ask about what was left behind. But not every job was easy, you know, some of them. Some
of them I still have nightmares about. First job was this woman, then wild hair, darting eyes like she was waiting for someone to burst through the door any second. We got the call at night like usual, and when we arrived, she was already waiting, clutching her arms like they were the only thing holding her together. She didn't much, just rushed us inside, glancing over her shoulder at every little sound, creak of the door, hum of a passing car.
Every time something happened, she'd freeze, then whisper, hurry, we need to move faster, Keep quiet, please, First I figured it was just another case of someone running from an abusive X, which I mean it wasn't uncommon for us, but this was different. It was the way she kept looking out the window that started to get to me, like any second someone might show up. My partner, Kenji, tried to crack a joke to ease the tension, but she just glared at him, wide eyed, hissed quiet. Once
everything was packed, she didn't even ride with us. She just told us to meet her at the new place. Way out in the country. She took off without another word. Our truck rattled along the empty roads for it felt like hours. We pulled up to this old, isolated house. It was quiet, no lights, no signs of life. We waited and waited, but she never showed. We called her phone, we left voicemails, we sent texts. Nothing. We didn't know what else to do. We ended up just unloading her
stuff into the house, just like she'd told us. By dawn, we were exhausted, we were confused, and more than a little spooked, so so we left. A few days later, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. I looked her up out of curiosity. It turns out she wasn't just running from an X. She was mixed up with the Yagaza, a snitch where it was she was
trying to testify against some very dangerous people. The cops suspected she'd been followed the night we moved her, likely taken care of between her old house and the new one. It was scary to think how close we were to death just minutes from it. I tried not to think about what would have happened if she driven let us. The second job was in an old, creaking apartment building. We were called to move an elderly man, someone who looked like he belonged in that place, tucked away from
the world forgotten. When he let us in, I knew right away this wasn't going to be a normal job. The apartment it was filled with strange trinkets, objects I couldn't name, artifacts that looked ancient. These were statues with twisted faces, masks with hollow eyes, symbols painted on the walls, and faded reds and blacks. The air was thick, kind
of thick that makes your body extra heavy. The others got to work packing boxes, wrapping up the artifacts as carefully as they could, but I couldn't shake the feeling the room was watching me. Then, as I was lifting a box, I noticed a door across the room, the one that I was sure hadn't been there before. It was just there, dark and slightly a jar. I glanced around, but no one else seemed to notice it, so I walked over and opened the door. Inside was another room,
cluttered with more of those those artifacts. I stepped in, trying to get a closer look at a strange, small statue covered in symbols, but when I turned back to leave the the doorway was gone. A panic shot through me. I swiveled on the spot, thinking I'd just gotten turned around, but now there was There were two doors on the opposite wall. I chose the one on the right. I walked through, only to find myself in another room nearly identical to the last, with the same dusty shelves and
dark corners. The walls seemed to stretch and bend, twisting in ways it didn't make sense. I called out to my coworker, but no one responded. My voice just echoed, lowering in tone until it didn't even sound like mine. I walked faster, every doorway leading me to another room that looked the same as the last. It was as if the apartment was folding outwards from itself, trapping me in some kind of expanding nightmare maze. The walls began
the narrow closing in, and I started to run. Every doorway was a dead end, a mirror of the room before, filled with more statues, more hollowed out in masks watching me. My breath came in short gasps, and every time I looked over my shoulder, I thought I saw a shadow moving in the corner of my eye. The further in I went, the more I saw the shadow dipping out of view just as I turned to see it. I lost track of time. Every step, every turn, led me
deeper into the labyrinth of rooms. I shouted, I banged on walls, and all the while the shadow got closer. The air grew heavier, suffocating, my chest tightened. The shadow was starting to get darker, more detailed, like it was slowly forming into something solid. I started to smell something rotten, like old meat from an animal's breath. I was exhausted and about ready to give up completely, let whatever would happen happen. But then I saw a faint light through
a doorway ahead. I bolted towards it, nearly tripping over my own feet as I pushed through the door and staggered back into the main room. I glanced back, half expecting to see the twisted maze behind me, but it was It was just a wall. The doorway was gone, as if it had never existed. Everything was just as it was when I went into the nightmare maze. The time hadn't passed a single second while I was gone. A month later, we started working on the Fujimoto Dunhi complex.
That was the last time I worked as a Jahatza. We were called in late to an old, decaying apartment building, the kind that hadn't seen a new coat of paint since it was built. The family that hired us, they were strange, even by our standards. The father answered the door, tall, rail thin, pale as death. His skin looked translucent, almost bluish in the dim hallway light, and he didn't smile,
just nodded once and waved us inside. The mother wasn't any better, silent, watching us with dark, sunken eyes, like she hadn't slept in daze. They both seemed like they were holding something back, like we were intruding on a private moment. But avoid the room at the end of the hall until the very end, said the father, his voice cold and distant. We didn't ask questions, We never did, just nodded, got to work. The apartment was huge, Okay, it was bigger than any I'd ever seen in the city.
High ceilings, ancient wooden floors, thick velvet curtains that blocked out all the light. It felt like stepping into a different century as we moved through the place, loading up the truck with old furniture and boxes. The feeling of something being off only grew stronger. The air inside was stale, thick, with the smell of dust and and something else, something rotten.
The father hovered near the back of the apartment, watching us with cold, sunken eyes, and the mother disappeared into the room at the end of the hall, leaving us almost completely alone. An hour ticked by. We were almost done. There was just one room left, the room they told us to avoid. We had just started packing up the last boxes when Ricu winced. I looked over and saw him clutching his hand. He cut it on a loose nail from one of the old crates that we were moving.
You're good, I asked, keeping my voice low. Rico nodded, and then the father appeared again, pale in silence, and he glanced at the small pile of remaining boxes, then toward the door at the end of the hall. It's time, he said, without another word. He opened the door to the forbidden room. Outstepped this young girl, barely a teenager by the look of her skin, as pale as her parents, her hair hung limp around her shoulders. Her eyes were
they were wrong, you know, too wide, too dark. She moved like she was half asleep, until she caught the scent of something in the air. The little girl froze midstep, her head snapping towards Ricu, her eyes locked on his hand, and something primal, something, something savage, flickered across her face. It happened so fast I barely registered it, but I
saw her nostrils flare, and then she attacked. It was like a like a blur, a flash of pale skin and teeth, and she lunged at Riku, sinking her teeth into his neck. Before any of us could react. The scream that tore out of him was like nothing I'd ever heard. We all froze for half a second, too stunned to move, and by the time we recovered, Riku was already slumped on the floor. Half of his neck was gone. The father's eyes went wide briefly, then calm. No,
the girl wasn't dead. She crouched over Riku, and when she lifted her head, her eyes burned with something feral, something, something inhuman. Now she went for the next guy, Yasu. Yasu ran out the front door, the little girl chased after him. The mother appeared in the doorway, now, eyes wide and panic eas to me. But the mother wasn't going to have any control over her now, now that she was feral. In fact, she wouldn't even have control
over herself or her husband. I watched as the mother and father smelled the air and they lost control of themselves. I grabbed the nearest thing I could. It was some old lamp, and I swung it at the mother, but she was too fast, too strong. She dodged, her movements fluid, unnatural, as if she could read my thoughts before I even acted, and I just ran. I didn't even think. I just
bolted for the door. I turned left to hit the elevators, but found the little girl straddling Y'ausu's decapitated body, her mouth dug into his open neck cavity. A scream carried over from my right and I saw it opened apartment door, with a tough looking guy walking out behind me. I heard the mother and father scurrying out of the room. I ran past the tough looking guy into his apartment. I locked the door and heard him banging against it
and then screaming as he was getting torn apart. My eyes scanned the room, and that's when I saw it, his sword, just hanging on the wall. I didn't think I grabbed it. I checked the blade. It was dull as fuck, but you know, just for show, I still kept it anyway. Outside, the sounds of carnage echoed into the apartment, screams, snarls, the tearing of flesh. I threw open the window and spotted the fire escape, but it only led one way up, so I climbed behind me.
I heard the window shatter as the girl leapt out after me, her nails scraping against the metal as she climbed too fast, too relentless. I swung the sword as she reached for my ankle. It connected. She let out an inhuman shriek. She fell, her body crashing to the ground below. I looked down. I saw her her lower half twisted backwards, her head split open, arms bent in unnatural angles. But she she kept moving, crawling, trying to
get back to the building, and I kept climbing. I reached the roof and collapsed, but only for a moment. I rushed over to the rooftop door and pressed myself against it. I could hear the others below, the bloodlust and their voices growing louder. I blocked the door with everything I could find, and I prayed. Finally, the first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon. I listened as the people below screamed as the sunlight through the window
was hitting them. But I knew they weren't all gone, not yet, and my only way out was back down through that apartment building. But this dull sword, I crept back inside. I went through the rooftop door, quietly, sneaking into the stairwell. There were ten floors, with only a few of them still having lights on, so I had to make my way down ten flights of stairs, most
of which were pitch black. As I descended, I realized that most of the tenants had had the same idea to make a break for the stairwell, only none of them appeared to make it. The stairs and landing were horrific, gruesome sights, shredded bodies, organs, bones, blood. It was a slaughterhouse that was halfway down the stairwell. When I heard something below, a low, wet squelch like skin slapping against
blood soaked concrete. I froze clutching the Samurai saw it in my hand, heart pounding, I crept down the next flight, careful not to slip or make any noise. I reached the landing for the floor we'd been working just hours earlier, and I stopped adding my tracks. The floor was a massacre. Blood spattered the walls, body parts mangled beyond recognition were strown about. But it was the body in the middle of it all that made my stomach turn. It was Ginko, or it was it was what was left of him.
His body was completely torn open, Organs spilled across the landing, bones pulled from muscle, and tent in his face, but little was left of it was frozen in a twisted, agonized scream beside of him, someone I'd worked alongside for months, and made bile rise in my throat. I had to step over him to keep moving. There was no other choice. I stepped gingerly over his body, careful not to disturb anything.
But just just as my foot touched the other side of the landing, I heard it, a low, guttural growl from behind me. I whipped around just in time to see Genko's hand twitch. His eyes, once glassy and dead snapped open, glowing with a sickly red light. Blood began to pool around him, bubbling, as if something inside him was trying to force its way out. Before I could react, Ingo's body jerked violently, his limbs snapped back into place with a sickening crack in his mouth stretched open, revealing
elongated razor sharp teeth. Blood dripped from his mangled face as he let out a feral screech, his arms reaching out for me. He was no longer human. I stumbled backwards, tripping over the stairs as game Goes twisted form lunged towards me. He moved unnaturally, like a puppet on broken strings, dragging what remained of his body across the landing, his hands clawed at the air. I fell down a flight
of stairs, the sword slipping from my grasp. As I crashed to the floor, my vision blurred for a second, but the sound of Genko's screech shook me back into reality. I got a hold of the sword and kept moving. He was still coming, his body crawling, tumbling, ripping down the stairs after me. His limbs were broken and his muscles were mushed, but that didn't stop him. It didn't matter how shattered his body was. There was something in his blood now that kept him moving, kept him, kept
him hungry. But it wasn't just him. The whole stairwell seemed to be waking up. I scrambled to my feet, slipping on the blood that now coated my shoes. Every step was a nightmare. I couldn't get a grip, couldn't move fast enough. I kept slipping. I fell, sliding down another flight as Ghenko's screeches echoed through the stairwell, each one louder and more frantic than the last. I could I could hear them now, others responding to the sound.
The tenants, the entire building. It was awake, joining the shredded bodies coating the floor and walls of the stairwell as they all made chase, made chase for me. Above me, doors slammed open. The low growls and screeches of the tenants filled the air, growing louder and closer. They knew I was still here, and they were coming. I pushed myself up, forcing my legs to move, forcing my body
to keep going. I was almost to the bottom. Just a few more steps, I reached the main lobby, throwing myself through the door and slamming it shut behind me. The door wouldn't hold them for long, but it bought me a few seconds. I looked around for any way out, and that's when I saw her, standing between me and the front doors, looking just as innocent as she had before the attack. Who's eats to me? The little girl? Her skin had heeled, though her clothes were bloody and destroyed.
She smiled. I didn't stop. I didn't think. I ran straight for her, gripping that sword tightly. She didn't move, she didn't flinch. As I barreled towards her. I ran that dull blade through her chest, using the momentum to push both of us forward. Sword It didn't do anything. She wasn't even phazed by it. But as we crashed through the front doors, the sunlight hit her face and she screamed. I shoved her body to the side, just as her skin ignited, flames, crawling over her tiny frame
and reducing her to ash. In seconds. Behind me, the tenants burst from the stairwell, screeching and hissing. As they chased after me. The sunlight hit them and they burst into flames, one after another. Exploding into plumes of ash. I kept running. I didn't look back. I don't know how long I ran or how far. It wasn't until my legs gave out that I realized I was in the middle of the countryside, surrounded by nothing but open fields.
That's when I collapsed, chest heaving, hands shaking, covered in blood and ash. But I was alive. I never went back to the job, the building, or even that part of the city. They work at a call center now, and I hated, but at least now, whenever I get a weird client, I just hang up here the kids, It's me, mister creep Pasta, And I just wanted to tell you thank you so much for watching today's video
or for listening to tonight's episode of the podcast. And as always, I want to give a very big thank you to everybody who supports me over at patreons patreon dot com slash mister Creepypasta. I cannot thank you guys enough. You guys have been there when I'm struggling like a half of the past year, and it sincerely helps me stay alive. So thank you guys so much for being supporters.
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