I. Prologue

Kyoto Prefecture, Japan, 1934

Kenji gripped the bundle under his arm, shivering in the cold air. It was spring but the nights were still cold, especially in the deep, vasts forests that filled the valley where his village lay.

The young man paused, his breath steaming from the climb, to look back down the steep slope he had just reached the top of. The soft glow of lanterns from his village could be seen far below, glowing like fireflies in the night. It was a comforting sight and steeled the young man's resolve in what he was about to do.

No more people would die after tonight, Kenji swore to himself. The others had laughed but he believed in the old stories - about demons and curses. He would perform the ritual and then the killings would stop. Or at least, he prayed that they would.

Kenji stepped further into the trees, glad of the light of the full moon, until he reached a small clearing. He would perform the ritual here, under the watchful gaze of the moon god Tsukuyomi.

Shivering again as a cold wind picked up, Kenji knelt and set his bundle down, eyeing the hateful burden cautiously as one might eye a snake ready to strike. He had the uneasy, crawling sensation that he was being watched and for a moment he considered turning and running back to his village. But it was too late for that - he was not a coward. Kenji looked up into the dark woods, the feeling of being watched growing stronger with each passing second.

He couldn't wait any more. If he did then he might not succeed at all, and the bloodshed would just continue.

Kenji grabbed the torch that had been strapped to his back and used his flint and tender to light it, his hands shaking slightly. Blinking as the flames flared up, Kenji thrust the torch into the earth as he carefully untied the bundle to reveal the object underneath the rough sackcloth.

It was a katana, long and deadly. The steel gleamed like quicksilver in the firelight.

Kenji stared at the sword for a long moment, wondering how something so beautiful could be so evil. But then, the whole curse had started with a madman and had centuries to grow and fester like a rotting wound.

The young man took a deep breath, knelt on the ground, and began to chant the ancient prayers he had spent months learning. As he chanted the wind picked up, shaking the tree branches, until it suddenly stopped.

Kenji's voice trailed off as the heavy silence made a cold sweat break out across his forehead. Something suddenly compelled him to look to the treeline again and he nearly bit his tongue through in fright.

A white face slowly emerged from between the trees, hanging like a hideous mockery of the full moon above them. Its red eyes glowed in the darkness. There was no body beneath the head.

Kenji's first instinct was to run but his legs wouldn't move. He knelt, frozen to the spot, as the ghastly face floated closer to him.

"D-demon!" the young man finally managed, fumbling for the prayer beads the monk had given him yesterday. "Begone!"

The face merely floated closer to him and if he could have moved Kenji would have been half way down the mountain by now. He desperately wanted to scream but suddenly jerked in surprise.

Kenji watched, horrified, as his left hand moved towards the sword's hilt, as though pulled by some unseen force.

The blade slid from its sheath with a soft hiss and rose slowly into the air, held in his left hand.

Kenji didn't want to hold the sword - his mind screamed at him to drop it but his eyes were locked on the glowing red eyes in front of him.

"No!"

Kenji's right arm also slowly rose, gripping the hilt and rotating the blade with both hands until it was pointed towards his middle.

The young man's eyes widened in horror as he realised what was about to happen.

"No!"

His terrified scream ended in a strangled gurgle as the blade suddenly impaled itself in his stomach. Blood spilled from his mouth as his hands pulled the blade free, even though his rapidly fading conscious knew that it hadn't really been him that had held the sword.

The white face hung over the dying man's body, still silent. It seemed to smile even though its features were nothing close to human.

Far above in the night sky the full moon's light was abruptly covered by clouds, as though the moon god himself couldn't bear to look on the scene anymore.

The white face faded into the darkness, the torch blowing out with it. The sword rolled from Kenji's lifeless hand, its blade gleaming with blood.