They

(Please indicate your gender for convenience)

The fog descending from the mountains shrouded the old temple in a thick veil, turning the tour into a surreal dream. The guide spoke of carved figurines guarding the sanctuary from evil spirits. You, separated from the group, turned into a narrow passage between two buildings, drawn by a strange, barely perceptible sound, like the scraping of stone against stone.

It was there, in the damp, moss-covered gloom, that you saw Oni. Oni crouched beneath the low-hanging roof, curled up. Bumpy skin, horns jutting from a tangled black mane, and clawed paws clutching a heavy iron club. It wasn't a statue. Its sides rose and fell slowly in time with its breathing, and from its slightly open mouth, viscous drool dripped onto the ground. Oni. The real thing.

In Japan, these creatures are feared for a reason—they're not the demons of fairy tales, but real man-eating spirits, creatures of darkness and chaos. And one of them was currently sleeping twenty paces away from you. You backed away, trying not to make a sound, but your foot creaked as it landed on a dry branch. The crunch sounded like a gunshot. A pair of eyes, red as hot coals, instantly opened, staring straight at you. A low, growling sound, more like the scraping of cobblestones, erupted from the creature's chest. It slowly rose, eclipsing the narrow passage.

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