I leaned my head against the rattling window as the small train winded its way through the hills of Hokkaido. Most train aficionados who make their way to Japan prefer to spend their time on the Shinkansen, and while the bullet train is a lot of fun, there’s a certain charm to these little local lines. I look around the cabin, and as expected, this single-car diesel train feels like it hasn’t been updated since the 1980s. The fading advertisements on the wall felt a little tired, but there was a certain charm to the retro styling. A few people had come and gone, but for now, the only sound was the rumbling of the old diesel engine and the blowing of wind through the open window. I looked back outside at the verdant hills contrasting against the grey, cloudy sky. Hopefully the weather will hold. My view was cut short by the blackness of one of the many tunnels running through this place.
My destination was a secluded train station servicing a small town in the mountains, called Seigawa. Japan is full of these tiny rural stations, called Hikyo, left quiet and secluded by a population in decline, and my mission today was to visit a particularly interesting one a friend told me about. Despite the popularity of the hikyo to railfans, little more than just the station name could be found online. At first I thought this was strange, but the opportunity to be the first to document this mysterious place overrode any doubts I may have had. Perhaps no one had gotten around to it yet. Deep in the mountains of northern Hokkaido, Seigawa seemed to service a tiny community nestled deep into the mountains.
“Seigawa, Seigawa.” The driver announced and I stood to my feet, bag in hand, and paid my fare at the front. Transit cards can’t be used on these local lines, nor do these unstaffed stations have ticket attendants, so paying cash at the driver’s window is the way to go. With my fare paid, I stepped out onto the deserted platform.
Seigawa was about as desolate as I expected. A single slab of worn, cracked concrete, extended for a few hundred feet in either direction. Across the track, a retaining wall held up the looming hill, though the greenery had fought back and begun to creep down the stonework. Past the other side of the platform was the edge of a forest, creating a looming, oppressive atmosphere as the natural world on both sides engulfed the station. Besides the concrete and railing, a lone overhang next to a wooden shelter was the only other manmade structure to be seen in the area. I quickly pulled out my camera and snapped a shot of the empty platform. In Tokyo, even the quietest station was bound to have a few people milling about, so a truly empty platform was a bit of a novelty. I snapped a few more photos here and there, mostly of random things like the station name sign or some plants growing through the ancient concrete.
The picture I really wanted, though, was a train running through the station. I pulled out my phone and to my dismay, the next train scheduled to pass through wasn’t for a few hours. With a sigh, I turned my attention to the shelter. I knew I was going to be here for the long haul anyway.
Like the rest of the station, the building was tired and worn. Peeling brown paint adorned the warped wood structure, with simple windows and a few old community posters. I stuck my head through the door, and as expected, the place was deserted. A few benches were set into the wall, an old radiator stood quietly in the middle, and the only inhabitants of the space were some leaves blown in from the open doorway. It was hard to believe that this station even had trains stop here, much less regularly. Well, at least this virtually abandoned station made for some interesting photography. I set up a tripod and prepared to take some photos.
“Hey!” A voice broke my focus as I turned from my camera setup. I turned around and to my absolute shock, there was another person. A woman about my age stood before me with a beaming, friendly smile. I quickly glanced up and down her, from her blouse and pants, down to her black boots.
“Hm?” I spoke, still baffled to see another person here. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” Thankfully, my experience with Japanese left me able to understand her normally.
“I’m Hibiki, and I live in town. What’s someone like you doing all the way out here?”
“Uh… I like trains, and visiting these rural stations and I was surprised that Seigawa had almost no data about it. There was like one or two photos taken from within a train, and I wanted to catalog more about this place. Maybe more railfans will make their way out here and visit the town.”
Hibiki chuckled. “I see! That sounds really cool. This station is really old and super quiet, but I’m surprised anyone comes at all. Don’t you know about the rumor?”
“There’s basically nothing about this station online, much less rumors.” I reply. I could’ve sworn I searched everything about this place before the trip.
“Well, they say that many people who show up here from out of town just… disappear. It’s probably just an old rumor, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“Ah” is all I can say as I am baffled by this rumor. “Like… does no one here notice or get concerned about that? Honestly it sounds like something someone just made up.” I reply.
“Maybe, it’s just a rumor I guess.” Hibiki replied. “Oh look! There’s a cool bird over there! We don’t see those here very much. You should get a pic of it!”
I quickly grab my camera and whirl around to get a picture. The instant I lay eyes on the empty platform behind me, a tight, crushing sensation radiates across my chest. I double over, protecting the camera just in time before I hit the ground and blacked out.
---
A booming voice thundered down on me, confusing and muffled at first, but quickly becoming clear as I opened my eyes again. I looked around at the vast expanse of rugged concrete, stretching for miles in every direction. It looked like the station I was just at but… everything seemed distorted.
“Ah, you’re awake.” The voice spoke again, and as I turned around, I found its source. Two gargantuan black pillars stood before me, that my eyes quickly traced up to the smirking face of Hibiki, still cheerful, but now lacking the warmth.
“Well, you were partially right. We did just make up the rumor to keep tourists from swarming our little town, but some of you are too persistent for your own good.”
I staggered backwards, shocked and horrified by the terrifying sight before me.
“H-how did you shrink me? W-what do you mean?” I spluttered out in terror.
“There’s a lot of magic in this town, and we can’t have people looking where they don’t belong. So… when sightseers stumble into town, I help… get rid of them.”
I got the memo immediately. “W-wait. Please! I promise, I’ll delete every photo I took, I will never mention any of this to another soul. Please, just don’t hurt me!”
“Sorry, you were cute though. Hopefully you will be as fun to crush as you were to talk to.”
There was no time to wait. I stumbled to my feet and broke into a dead sprint as far away from this terrifying woman as possible. I just had to hide and wait for the next train and somehow get on and find help. Nothing good could be gained by staying in this town.
A powerful thud radiated behind me, blasting me off my feet with the ensuing pressure wave. I tumbled helplessly to the ground, and with another step, Hibiki closed the gap, trapping me between her boots.
“Please try to crush quickly! Bye!” I tried to crawl away, but it was useless. My view of the girl, the last thing I would see, was quickly replaced with the lugged treads of her boots, besmirched with grime and ominous dark smears.
I screamed, I wailed, I begged until all that came out was an incomprehensible babble, before the firm rubber clamped down on me. My mouth was jammed open, filling it with the bitter grime and filth that clung to the underside of her shoe. The pressure mounted. The tightness soon turned to a burning pain as she slowly compressed my body. My jaw extended unnaturally around the rubber before snapping with a blinding sheet of agony. A chorus of pain joined the symphony as my bones began to bend before snapping. Her shoe quickly pressed down with full force, and the last thing I felt was my skull crack before darkness stole me away.
---
A wet crunch briefly stood out amidst the ambient noise, as Hibiki pressed down on the unfortunate little tourist with her full weight. A squirt of blood shot out from beneath her boot tread, before she callously twisted her shoe. A few more squelches rang out before all that remained was her treads grinding on the concrete. Hibiki dragged her foot out to admire her work. All that remained of the tiny visitor was an ugly reddish smear, marked with blobs of viscera and pulverized bone. Likewise, her shoe was packed with yet more gore that would soon try and fade into the grisly patchwork of her shoe.
Hibiki beamed to herself for a job well done. As long as the mystery stayed alive, a fresh supply of railfans and general sightseers would trickle their way through the mountains, straight to the bottoms of her shoes. As she reached down to grab the now ownerless backpack, a drop of water landed on her head. The rain would make sure the evidence was washed away before the next train came, so she simply scraped off her shoe and sauntered back to town.