Into the Abyss

The year 2020

As the clock struck midnight, ushering in the New Year's Eve, the outside world resounded with festive clamor. The year 2020 had arrived. It was a time when most businesses closed their doors from January 1st to January 3rd, and families gathered to spend precious moments together.

January 1st held great significance, starting with the tradition of witnessing the first sunrise of the year. Alongside my mother and sister, Rin, I prepared to view the sunrise. Our home was adorned with festive decorations crafted from pine, bamboo, plum trees, and colorful cloth. My mother had meticulously cleaned the house, embracing the customs of the season.

Karma and I had made plans to celebrate together on the 2nd day of the New Year, as I intended to spend the first day with my family. My mother had prepared a special New Year's meal, including Toshikoshi soba and ozoni soup.

Toshikoshi soba, buckwheat noodles served hot on New Year's Eve, symbolized the severance of the previous year's misfortunes and the ushering in of good luck and longevity. My impatience got the best of me as I eagerly dug into the steaming Toshikoshi soba, burning the roof of my mouth and my tongue.

Meanwhile, Karma had chosen to visit her grandmother and spend the day with her. She had plans to watch the popular music show "Kohaku Uta Gassen," which featured renowned J-pop and enka singers in stunning performances.

The day was passing by in a somewhat tiresome fashion.

January 2, 2020

"Love is blind, but a broken heart can see everything. Love seems to be a dangerous drug to quit, but it becomes more dangerous when it's taken away." These thoughts swirled in my mind as I eagerly anticipated my meeting with Karma. Imagining her in a kimono made my heart race like a roller coaster. I couldn't help but wonder what she would bring for me this year. We had arranged to meet at a shrine, and I hoped she'd surprise me with some grilled and vinegary dishes.

Restless, I paced back and forth, eagerly awaiting her arrival. Time seemed to drag on endlessly, and I found myself lost in our old chat history on my phone, lost in my thoughts.

Nearby, a small child cried, seemingly lost in the bustling crowd. Reluctantly, I decided to help the child, muttering to myself, "Kids are such a pain in the ass."

Karma had once remarked that kids were miscalculations, disrupting the peace and tranquility of life. Everything around me seemed to remind me of her. I longed to see her, and an inexplicable sense of unease washed over me. Something felt wrong, and I couldn't shake the feeling of impending danger.

I tried calling Karma, but she didn't pick up. To my alarm, she canceled my call and turned off her phone. Concern gnawed at me. Was something amiss with Karma? Was she sick?

Unease grew as I continued my futile attempts to reach her. My fear intensified as I realized she wasn't responding to my calls. Something was seriously wrong.

(After an hour: Zack returned with disappointment, unable to locate Karma.)

Ten days passed, and Karma remained offline. Her home remained locked, and I visited daily in hopes of her return. Yet, Karma had vanished without a trace, leaving me sleep-deprived, unable to focus, and consumed by anxiety. Something was amiss, and a sense of dread haunted me day and night.

On January 1st, 2020, Karma heard a peculiar sound like wooden rapping coming from the front of her grandmother's house. She arrived at her grandmother's home, and upon entering, found the door slightly ajar. A deafening silence enveloped the house.

As she ventured further inside, Karma heard footsteps other than her own drawing closer. The approaching presence filled her with mounting anxiety. Something clicked, and she sensed her grandmother might be at her dressing table.

Suddenly, the room's lights went out, plunging Karma into darkness. An unsettling metallic scent wafted through the air, and she knew it was the smell of blood. Karma recognized the voice coming from her grandmother's room.

She saw it all unfold before her eyes—her own father, Mr. Manzo, brutally taking her grandmother's life. Her grandmother lay in a pool of her own blood, her body riddled with wounds.

Tears streamed down Karma's face, salty and filled with regret. She admonished herself to stop crying, to stop being weak and help her grandmother. But her body felt numb, her fingers refused to cooperate, and her breaths came in shallow, trembling gasps.

She reached for her phone, desperate to document the horrifying scene before her. In her distraught state, she turned, expecting to find Mr. Manzo still in the room. To her shock, she saw her father, but he was not the one who had killed her grandmother.

Her upper eyelids were pulled open, and her lower eyelids tensed as she saw the ghastly scene. Her grandmother's lifeless body lay at her feet, surrounded by a pool of crimson.

Yet, this gruesome sight was interrupted as something unexpected occurred. Karma felt a presence behind her, and before she could react, someone grabbed her from behind, causing her phone to fall from her grasp. Strong hands covered her mouth, preventing her from screaming. Her captor was a man with a bandana concealing his face.

He bound her hands and covered her head with a hood, then forced her into a waiting car. Karma's breath slowed, tears lessened, and her fear gave way to resignation.

What if this was all a dream? Who was she? Where was she? Her grasp on reality slipped as everything seemed both real and unreal simultaneously. She reached out, searching for something tangible, something that would bring certainty.

The reality was undeniable, and she couldn't deny the truth any longer. She had to face the harsh reality. The truth was something that could not be escaped. Karma's hope dwindled, and she began to accept the grim possibility that she might not return from this ordeal alive. Loss and pain enveloped her, sinking deep into her heart.