The best way to show you how to write a Ghost Story is to begin by reading one......so pull up a chair, grab a snack and listen and I will tell you....The Tale Of The Samurai

It was a bright sunny afternoon.  A school bus drove down the winding road, it was a school bus, like any other bus that you would see anywhere else in the world, but something was different, instead of letters there were Japanese characters.  Yes, my story occurs in Japan.  I have altered the names and some of the details to protect the survivors.  You could have read about this in the newspaper or on the Internet, but the Japanese authorities hushed the story up.  Wouldn't want to hurt tourism would we?  The events that happened that night, yes it was night before my tale ends, was horrifying.  You’re trembling, are you sure you want me to go on?  Yes?  Well then on with the story.

Inside the bus sat a Japanese history class.  The class was covering a unit on Feudal Japan.    They were to visit the home, no manor, of one of the greatest warlords of the era.   This warlord had many warriors that served him.  The manor had been preserved for its artifacts; however his name has been lost to history.   Although he only dwelt in the house from 1510 - 1520, some 10 years, his descendants had lived in it to this day, despite the story surrounding it.  Then suddenly, almost overnight, they moved.  No one knew why.  After they abandoned the house was sold to a wealthy buyer.  They did not explain why after centuries of occupation by one oldest son to the next, why they left so suddenly.  However they had mentioned one thing to the buyer, just one word.  That word was “Samurai.”  After mentioning this word they ran to the car and took off, leaving behind all their possessions:  family heirlooms, the food in the refrigerator, the beer poster on the wall – everything.

However the buyer sold it to the Japanese government one year later.  Again no reason was given for the sudden move.  However unlike the previous family, they did take all THEIR possessions, leaving behind priceless antiques from the time of the Japanese warrior.   Since then the government removed the previous tenant’s modern things setting up the manor as if it were still occupied by the nameless warlord.  Maybe it was.  However they left one room alone, anything left inside it stayed in the crate or box it was in.  Although it was a storage room now for fifty years it had once been the first family’s private temple.

But enough about the house, now I will answer a question which has been nagging at you.  What is so special about the word “Samurai?”  A samurai was a member of the military nobility, a warrior in fact, in feudal Japan.  It is derived from the archaic Japanese verb "samorau," changed to "saburau," meaning "to serve"; thus, a "samurai" is a servant, i.e. the servant of a lord.   Samurai followed a strict code of honor.  There were only two honorable deaths for a samurai, to die in combat or to commit suicide in the name of their Lord.

You may be curious about the story surrounding the manor, not interested?  Oh yes, I see you are.  Well, then I will continue. The only reason I am telling you this story is because the legend of the manor, the word samurai and the story I am going to tell you are closely linked.

I take you back to the year 1520, to this very manor.  There was a certain samurai in the service of this warlord.  This samurai had been dishonored in combat, thus he went to his Lord’s home, this very manor.  He did this so he could take his own life with some honor.  When he reached the manor he was told the warlord was in the great hall.  His pleas to the Lord to allow him to die with honor were ignored.  However, his Lord ruled that his honor was less important than his service to him.  Thus he forbids the samurai to die an honorable death.  Out of rage the samurai rushed forward and with one quick slash of his katana, oh – that’s a Japanese sword, killed his warlord.  Afterwards the warlord’s two bodyguards killed the samurai as well.  The samurai died in dishonor and his name was stricken from the rolls of the samurai.  Thus his name was lost to history.  Finally he was buried in a peasant’s grave.  The legend’s ends saying  if anyone looks upon his dishonor his spirit will come and slash them down with the very katana he used to kill his warlord.  After eight mysterious deaths the warlord’s family destroyed or stored everything that had been in the great hall at the time.

Let us return to the school bus.  Ah, you have forgotten about the school bus haven’t you?  Getting caught up in the legend aren’t you?    As the legend is swimming through your head so it was swimming through the heads of the school children.  Although the youngest of these students was 11, many of them were still afraid of the legend.  Particularly one boy by  the name  of Kato who had only recently turned 12.  He sat in the back seat on the driver’s side away from the other children who were grouped closer to the front.  He was a jittery boy most people would call him a “scardey-cat” which was basically true.  He was terrified of the very thought of entering a place that could be haunted.   Needless to say most of the other kids picked on him.  However, six of the children treated him kindly.  There was Haruna, a rather tomboyish short tempered girl; then Takeshi a lighthearted guy who was the closest thing Kato had to a “best-friend”; Kaori a how should I say this – a girly girl I suppose; next came William a boy whose family had recently been transferred to Japan, even though he learned to speak Japanese he didn’t know much about Japan; Haruka, a shy little girl who typically kept to herself; Masaru, Kato’s big brother who would knock anybody out who messed with Kato.

Kato looked up as the bus stopped.  Looming ominously above them was the ancient manor.  They began to stand up to file out the door.  One boy turned around and looked in Kato’s direction and said trying to suppress a laugh “Don’t let the samurai get you!”  Masaru shot a look at him and the boy gulped and left the bus.  Kato was the last to get off the bus.  They entered the manor and a tour guide began leading them around the manor.  After about an hour Masaru noticed something.   Haruna, Takeshi, Kaori, William, and Haruka had begun to sneak away from the main group.  Masaru mouthed to Kato “Let’s go see what they are doing.”  So they followed their friends into the main hall.  He asked all of them “What are you doing here?  This area isn’t on the tour.”  William replied “We just wanted to see where the samurai died.”  Kato noticed something, everyone was looking sort of groggy.  Suddenly he felt like he could collapse to the floor and fall asleep at any moment…………..

Kato’s eyes suddenly shot open, as he heard everyone getting up. They had all fallen asleep.  He noticed it was much darker in the hall.  He stood up and at that moment everyone began to speak at once.  However he could get the basic gist of the conversation.  Everyone was asking what had happened.  They took a vote, two votes to stay where we are, four votes to go see if the bus had left, Kato sat in the corner and didn’t vote.    So it was decided, they left the main hall and out the doors.  The bus wasn’t where it had been parked; it had been moved roughly thirty feet.  They decide to go see what was wrong.  And yes, they knew something was wrong, very, very wrong.  When they got closer to the bus they noticed the back tires had been slashed, not just punctured but split wide open.  They walked closer and realized the door of the bus was swung open.  They entered the bus single file, Masaru first.  The bus driver sat in his seat slumped over the steering wheel.  Masaru studied him for a couple of seconds, “He’s dead” he announced.  All of the other kids looked around Masaru’s muscular body and screamed, there was long slash mark from the base of his neck to the middle of his back.  The mark of a large blade.  Slowly they turned towards the seats and saw all the chaperons and the rest of the children lay dead, seemingly cut by the same blade.  Kato staggered off the bus.  He was barely able to prevent himself from vomiting; he gasped for air and fell to the ground.  “Dead” he muttered “dead, all of them dead.”  Suddenly the sky seemed to be torn open, rain poured down in sheets.  The seven students ran towards the manor but stopped, did they really want to go back in there?  When they reached the door they stopped dead in their tracks.  There was something standing in the middle of the main hall, not something, but someone.  Someone wearing ancient samurai armor, someone holding a katana that dripped with blood, someone who glowed a translucent pale blue.  Suddenly Kaori screamed “It’s the samurai!”  Suddenly the samurai ran toward the doorway and Takeshi screamed and ran outside into the rain.  The samurai followed.  The other children ran into the house panicking like little children, scattering in all directions, running down halls and through doorways.  Then they heard a scream. 

Later…………………………………….

Kaori stood in the middle of the room panting.  The room was filled with traditional paper doorways covered with beautiful scenery, maidens, mountains, flowers, samurai and dragons.  Then she saw through one of the thin paper doors the silhouette of the samurai .  She was nearly paralyzed with fear, but like any other frightened people in horror literature, she reached her hand to the door to slide it open.  The thin paper door slowly slid across the wooden floor.  She prepared to be cut down by the samurai, and then she realized it had only been armor on a mannequin.  She turned around only to see a flicker of blue.

Haruna stood there examining a pair of katanas   mounted over a mantel in the master bedroom.  She gripped the handle and slowly removed the long sword from its sheath.  “I could use this.” she muttered.  Suddenly she heard a high pitched scream and almost dropped the katana but she managed to keep a grip on it.  She thought to herself “If I had dropped it would probably be the end of my toes.”  She placed the katana back in its sheath and picked up the katana’s mate, a small sword in a decorative sheath.  She chuckled to herself, “Bring it on Mister Samurai.” 

Haruka was creeping down a long hallway.  The normally quite girl was mumbling to herself a song in English, she didn’t know what the words meant but the sound of her voice made the hall seem less ominous.  “As I walk through the valley where I harvest my grain….”  Suddenly she heard something, she began to talk   a bit faster “I took a look at my wife and realized she’s very  plain…”  Then she heard a sound, like someone was walking behind her.  She was afraid to turn around and said even faster “but that’s just perfect for……….” The steps grew louder and faster, she started to sing again “At 4:30 in the morning I milking my cows….”  Suddenly she spun around; and standing there was the samurai, his blade raised high above his head; she remembered the name of the song, Amish Paradise, but she didn’t even have time to scream before the blade came toward her.  Silence.

Masaru stood alone in a tiny closet studying two tapestries that hung on the wall, they each told the legend of the house, but they had one important difference.  Though they both had the name of the samurai cut out, one was twice the size of the other because it had the complete legend.  This is what it said.

He read the tapestry and was shaken, but then he saw something - there is a way to put the dishonored soul to rest.  In the main hall , during the time of the samurai’s, death there stood a table , and on that table was a statue of a plump laughing Buddha – a symbol of good fortune.  And on the stature the blood of both the warlord and the samurai was splashed.  If the statue was to be presented to the samurai he would regain his honor and his soul would be at rest.  Masaru rolled up the tapestry and put it under his arm.  He would need to find Kato he decided. 

Kato sat in the corner of the main hall underneath a table rocking back and forth sobbing.  He had returned to the great hall as he thought the samurai would not return or maybe he had just lost all reason.  He sat there tasting the salt of his own tears.  Then he saw Masaru walking down the hall.  “Masaru”, he shouted happily.  Then he saw coming into the main hall from two separate hallways was William and Haruna.  Immediately Kato asked “Where are Kaori and Haruka?”  William gulped, “Kaori was that scream and Haruka……….we found her…….dead.”  Everyone stood there on the verge of tears, they had lost three friends, the bus driver, the chaperons, and their classmates.  Masaru then told them about the Buddha statute and about his theory that it was in the old family temple, a room they had been shown on the tour, but had not entered.  The room was on the other side of the house.  They would have to get there safely, but how?  They took a vote, William and Masaru would go, Kato and Haruna would stay mainly because Kato was too afraid to go and they didn’t want anyone to be alone.   They made their way through the hallway, amazingly they had no trouble from the samurai. ……..

Suddenly Haruna saw something, a mere flicker of blue.  Then the samurai phased through the wall.  “Dang it!”  Haruna thought, “They aren’t here with the statue yet!”  “Oh well” she muttered and pulled the two katanas out of their sheaths. ……..

“This is it” William said.  Lying in a box filled with packing peanuts was the Buddha statue.  They could still see the bloodstains on the statues large belly.  “Almost 500 years and it’s still red.”  They hoisted the box up and began to move quickly down the halls. 

Haruna was the first to strike, she swung her long sword and there was the clash of steel, sparks rained down on the floor.  She lunged once more, the samurai brought up his blade in defense.  The two blades met.  Haruna hissed and lunged closer trying to use her small katana like a dagger to stab at the ghost.  However with an amazing burst of energy the ghost pushed on his blade and Haruna’s arm went swinging backward throwing her off balance.  The he swiped his blade downward knock the small katana out of her hand, the blade landing, sticking into the floor.  The ghost lunged his blade forward, Haruna brought her’s up to block and the blades met.  Haruna took a step back and blocked once more.  This continued till her back hit the wall.  The ghost lunged forward slashing her across the hand.  Haruna dropped her katana screaming.  At that moment William and Masaru ran through the door holding the box between them.  They had appeared just in time to see Haruna get slashed.  William grabbed the statue out of the   box , scattering packing peanuts across the floor and dropping the box.  However the samurai rushed forward kicking the statue out of William’s hand and slashing him across the chest.  Kato saw the statue hit the wall beside him, a crack appeared on the Buddha’s smiling face, but it was still intact.  Suddenly the samurai rushed towards Kato.  Kato closed his eyes and prepared to die.  He heard a blade cutting through flesh and thought he was on his way towards the shinning light.  Suddenly his eyes snapped open and he saw Masaru standing there a gash across his chest.  “Be strong, little bro.”, then he fell to the floor.  The samurai walked slowly forward.  “Be strong.” Echoed through Kato’s head.  He grabbed the statue and stuck it in front of him, the samurai stopped and suddenly the ancient warrior began to glow.  His katana fell to the ground and his armor did too, completely empty.  Then Kato heard something like the wind itself whispering to him “My name is Kato.”

The Epilogue……………

Every story has an ending……………But, this story doesn’t end, with the ending……………..

This explains the mysteries that remain behind the tale.  First, the fate of the tour guide. He was found…dead. When the government  investigated; they discovered  that the tapestries had been in that closet for over 300 years.  Also, the Buddha Statue had been moved to a box in 1999. And finally, no one entered the family temple because they thought disturbing the objects would cause more deaths.

So……That is my tale………………..

My son wrote this story at age 13.  What do you think?