"As I stepped into the bushes and got close to the jacket I could see clearly that the flies were emerging from beneath the garment and there were a multitude of them."
I following strange account was forwarded to me:
"We were walking around the Aokigahara Forest outside of Fujikawaguchiko in Japan. This is the notorious 'suicide forest' and it is a freaking spooky place, even in the daytime. We were there in the middle of a weekday at the tail of a tourist season so there was no one else around once we got into the forest proper. We followed the guidelines and stuck to the tracks as the terrain was very rough and there were various fissures in the mossy ground that some hapless gaijin might fall into. Despite this, we became turned around in the place quite quickly and it was difficult to have a clear sense of where things are about one another. This, combined with the peculiar quiet added to the oppressive atmosphere of a place you know is a hot spot for suicide.
We'd learned that folks looking to off themselves often leave their shoes or other belongings neatly beside the path before wandering into the woods to meet their fate. With this in mind, we were keeping a lookout for any such things. Just in case.
Lo and behold we came round a corner and there, two meters or so from the path was a neatly folded jacket sat in the low vegetation by the path. It looked clean and dry and like it had been left on purpose but not in a way to attract people to it, say, if it had been lost. My then-girlfriend and I looked at one another in shock as we contemplated the implications of the situation. After a few moments, we both realized that the near silence we had been enduring was lessened on account of the tremendous buzzing of flies. We saw that the air was thick with them and they appeared to be very interested in the abandoned jacket.
At this point, we assumed that something foul had happened in or around the area and that someone might need help. After a moment of discussion, I volunteered, with an elbow to the ribs, to approach the jacket and inspect it for signs of foul play, or evidence that might lead us to a poor soul in need.
As I stepped into the bushes and got close to the jacket I could see clearly that the flies were emerging from beneath the garment and there were a multitude of them. I had a really bad feeling but pushed forward and resolved to lift up the jacket to see what grizzly token of suicide might await beneath. I bent down and seized a corner of the garment between finger and thumb and cast it aside with a flourish. Immediately a nauseating odor hit me and I had to take a step back to stifle the fast-rising gip.
There, under the jacket, glistening in the dappled light of Aokigahara Forest, was the single largest human turd I had ever seen. A single unbroken length of scat coiled pretzel-like and studded with flies busily making a brunch of it. Of course, the tension broke and I scampered back to report my findings. Confident that no one was in any immediate peril (although a trip to the gastroenterologist might been prudent) we continued on our walk without further incident.
What made me laugh was the thought of some poor local tourist caught short in the suicide forest and having to wade into the bushes to crimp one off like a bear. Thereafter, so ashamed by the size and countenance of the stool they deemed it necessary to cover it over with their perfectly good jacket (neatly folded) to shield it and, I guess, prevent shame being brought upon their ancestors/angering the forest spirits." A
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