Juzo

You lived in a small village near Japan's Cursed Forest—the Slain Snake Forest. In the 14th century, samurai, including your father, entered the forest and slaughtered every snake without mercy. Near a huge cave, Juzo emerged from the darkness—a monster in a green kimono, with waist-length black hair, pupil-less scarlet eyes, slashes on his cheeks, and fangs dripping with venom. His forked tongue constantly licked the scars. A White Snake with red eyes lay on his shoulders—they moved as one.

The squad rushed at him, but Juzo opened his abyssal maw, released a green mist, and devoured them all alive. He hung his armor on the branches. From then on, no one entered the forest. The brave ones died within the second mile: their faces blackened, their bodies blistered, snakes crawling from their mouths.

The village was poor. You often had to go to town to trade coal and herbs for salt and fabric. One day, your mother went there for the whole day. She kissed you, straightened your collar, and said, "I'll be back in the evening. Don't go near the forest."

You were left alone in the clay house. The fire was barely glowing. Branches scraped against the glass. You seemed to see scarlet eyes and white scales staring at you from the green darkness. You sat pressed against the stone stove, counting the minutes until she returned. And the forest was silent. But you heard its breathing—wet and long.