Calaroga Shark Media, Hello and Welcome to Ghost. This episode is titled The
Haunting of the Veiled Yurre the Curse of Midori. In the shadowed heart of
an ancient Japanese village, shrouded in the midst of forgotten times, there whispered
a tale so chilling it curdled the blood of all who heard it. This
was the legend of Midori, a yure whose tragic and malevolent past had cursed
her to an eternity of torment and vengeance. Midori was once the wife of
a samurai, living a life of both privilege and profound isolation within the confines
of her husband's estate. Her beauty was the talk of the village, but
it was her jealousy and fear pride that defined her. The discovery of her
husband's betrayal was a spark that ignited the inferno of her wrath. The night
air was thick with tension, a prelude to the impending doom. The estate,
once alive with the sounds of laughter and the warmth of love, fell
eerily silent, as if the very walls braced themselves for the unfolding tragedy.
Mirori's footsteps were silent, yet each step resonated with the weight of her fury.
As she approached the room where her husband and his lover lay entwined in
their forbidden embrace. The scene before her was a grotesque mockery of her own
marital bed, a tableau of betrayal that shattered the last vestiges of her restraint.
With a scream that tore through the silence, a primal cry of both
anguish and rage, Midori unleashed her vengeance in her hands. She wielded the
very instruments of the samurai's honour, his swords, turning them against the man
she had once loved and the woman who had stolen his affection. The room
was soon awash with a crimson that reflected the moonlight, a macabre painting of
her retribution. Her husband and his lover, caught in the most vulnerable of
moments, could only stare in horror as the specter of their wronged wife became
the harbinger of their doom. But Midori's fury did not quench with their lives.
The fire that raged within her heart demanded a grander, more devastating climax.
With the same hands that had lovingly tended the estate's gardens, She set
fire to the very foundations of her existence. The flames, hungry and unrelenting,
consumed everything, a roaring beast that devoured the evidence of her life and
her sanity. As the estate was engulfed in a hellish blade, Midori stood
amidst the inferno, her silhouette a dark figure against the raging fire. The
beauty that had once been her pride now twisted into a visage of vengeance,
her screams of despair melding with the crackling of the flames. Her act of
revenge, a final damning testament to her betrayal and pain, sealed her fate
as she took her own life, her spirit forever bound to the ashes of
her once magnificent home. However, death did not bring Midori peace. Instead,
she arose as a yure, her spirit bound to the scorched earth of
her former home, her visage forever hidden beneath a veil of ash, her
eyes burning with an insatiable hunger for vengeance. Night after night, she wandered
the ruins, her mournful wails and the stench of burnt wood, a constant
reminder of her presence. It was said that to gaze upon her face was
to see one's own demise. For Madori's curse was not just her own to
bear. She sought to inflict upon others the pain and betrayal she had suffered,
her spirit lashing out at those who dared to come too close to the
remnants of her past life. Enter Daichi, a young man with a fascination
for the supernatural, driven by the thrill of fear and the desire to prove
his bravery. Armed with little more than tales of Midori's haunting and a lantern
to light his way, he ventured into the ruins one fateful night, intent
on uncovering the truth of the ure's curse. As he stepped into the heart
of the ruins, the air grew thick with cold, and an oppressive silence
enveloped him. The faint light of his lantern flickered, casting long shadows that
seemed to twist and writhe with a life of their own. Then, without
warning, a chilling voice pierced the silence. Why do you seek me mortal?
Her voice was a cold whisper, sending shivers down Daitchi's spine. I
wish to see your truth, to understand your pain, Deity responded, his
voice betraying a hint of fear. A soft, mocking laughter filled the air,
and then from the shadows, Midori emerged. Her form was spectral,
a dark silhouette against the night, her face hidden beneath her ashen veil.
To know my pain is to share in my curse, she whispered, her
voice tinged with malice. Look upon me and know the true face of vengeance.
Daichi, compelled by a mixture of fear and curiosity, lifted his lantern.
As its light fell upon Midori's face, the veil seemed to dissolve,
revealing her charred and twisted features, a grotesque reflection of her tormented soul,
Her eyes burning with an otherworldly fire, locked onto his, and in that
moment, Daitchi felt a terror so profound it threatened to consume him. He
stumbled backward, his heart racing as merdrury advanced, her form seeming to blur
and stretch, enveloping him in darkness. Visions of her past, her rage,
her betrayal flooded his mind, each more horrifying than the last. He
could hear her screams feel the heat of the fire that had consumed her,
and in the depths of his despair, he understood the true horror of her
curse. With every ounce of strength, Deity broke free from her grasp,
fleeing the ruins as Medori's laughter echoed behind him. He did not stop running
until the ruins were but a distant shadow, and even then, the haunting
image of Madori's veiled face lingered in his mind, a chilling reminder of the
night he looked upon the true face of vengeance. The tale of Medori's haunting
spread throughout the village, a warning to all who dared to seek out the
veiled urrey. Her curse remained a spectral wound on the landscape, her story
a testament to the darkness that festers in the heart of betrayal and the unyielding
grip of vengeance beyond the grave. As the weeks passed since Deiti's terrifying encounter
with Midori, the image of her twisted, vengeful spirit haunted his dreams,
Yet within his heart, a seed of compassion for the tormented Yure had taken
root. Deity couldn't shake the feeling that Midori's spirit deserved peace, a release
from the chains of her own rage and despair. Compelled by a sense of
duty to the suffering soul, Diiti embarked on a journey to learn the ancient
rituals of appeasement. Consulting with priests and scholars who held knowledge of the supernatural,
he learned of a ritual that could soothe Medori's tormented spirit, offering her
the peace she was denied in life. Midori, I have returned not to
fear you, but to offer you peace. Your pain, your rage has
been heard. It is time for you to find rest. The shadow stirred,
and Midori's spectral form emerged from the darkness, her presence less menacing,
yet still tinged with sorrow. Daichi, showing no fear, began the ritual.
He laid out offerings of incense and flowers, reciting ancient prayers to guide
Midori's spirit towards the light. As he spoke, the air around them began
to shimmer with a gentle luminescence, the oppressive atmosphere lifting like a heavy fog.
At dawn, Midori's form, once a manifestation of her torment, began
to soften. The harsh lines of anger and revenge fading away. In their
place, a serene, peaceful expression emerged for the first time in centuries.
The agony that had consumed her was replaced by a sense of tranquility. Mirori
looked at Daichi, and in her ethereal eyes there was gratitude. As she
disappeared, the Knight returned to stillness, the ruins now silent, free of
the haunting that had once defined them. Dechi watched a sense of bittersweet relief
washing over him. Ghost is a Calorogu Shark Media production written and hosted by
Alexander Ian McIntyre, produced by Mark Francis. Executive producers Mark Francis and John
McDermott. Portions of this podcast may have been created with the assistance of Aiklaroga Shark Media