Clouds, like great billows of smoke, masked the benevolent face of the moon, turning the starless night sky into an endless, uninterrupted dome of black. Under the immense velvet canvas, the city seemed to twinkle brighter. Fragile glass and cold steel reflected the soft, electric glow of streetlamps and neon signs, but without the watchful gaze and reassuring smile of the moon, Tokyo had a feeling of vulnerability that was nearly tangible in the air. Oh! But wasn't the air delicious that night! Warm and balmy...the kind of atmosphere that caresses the skin and seduces the mind to think dark, mysterious thoughts that are as vague and fleeting as shadows and spirits.

A thick fog slowly crept off the harbor and into the city. It flowed through the streets and alleys, the arteries and veins of Tokyo's concrete and steel body.

The city was no longer a twilight fairyland. In the mist and darkness the metropolis was transformed. It no longer belonged in a child's storybook. Tokyo's muted lights and deep shodows weren't fit for the same pages as princesses and white magic, they were meant to be in a tale whispered in the night. This was the setting of a tale of murder, mystery, and strange happenings that can only seem possible in the darkest deadliest hours of the night.

A ghost story.

~GIEST~