The human-sized Yokai could hear the thrum of their circulatory systems were it not for the blood-curdling human screams. The crackle of fire is equally deafening. Thick flames lick the sky as they sweep from house to house like crashing waves. Hot embers float in the air, singeing everything they touch. If this is indeed what the end of the world looks like, the Yokai thinks to herself, it is not very exciting. In fact, it stinks. Literally. The air smells horrible, not unlike burned hair. She lifts one hand to squeeze her nose closed as she manoeuvres what was once the siding of a house in the other hand and takes a bite. It melts in her mouth and tastes like fresh gingerbread baked to perfection. Not burned and crumbling like the other houses. Another bonus, this house was empty. Again she makes sure by sifting through the rubble a third and fourth time. So far, so good. And yet, there is something missing …

I should be bigger. Why am I not getting bigger?

The Yokai’s questioning is interrupted by a villager in no hurry to escape the carnage. She totters down the street at a turtle’s pace, arms stretched out in front of her. “So tasty, so tender. I want to eat.” Her voice is a raspy snarl, her words drip like the drool that runs from her mouth. She stops to glare at the Yokai, then starts wobbling toward her, pointing at the gingerbread in her hands. The Yokai crams what is left in her hands into her monstrous mouth and glares back until the old woman hisses at her and continues on her way. “Hmph,” says the Yokai, taking another handful of the brown rubble. I showed her.

A man calmly emerges from the neighbouring house. He too is unfazed by the giant mukade and villagers scrambling past him; he raises a cup of tea to his lips as he saunters by the Yokai. He slows down long enough to make eye contact. He appears to be staring not at her, but at the house sandwiched in her hands. The Yokai narrows her eyes at him, taking in his bulbous-shaped head and monk-like attire. His grin is crooked but kind; however, she is still not willing to share. She simply stares back until the man raises his cup to her. “Welcome!” he says, then continues down the road at his own leisurely pace to the next house. The Yokai is relieved. She takes another bite.