The Pale Koi and the Hundred Eyed Fox

Each winter there are warnings told by campfires of venturing out in the dead of night. Cautionary tales of ghosts, and ghouls, and mysterious disappearances where loved ones are never seen again. Those foolhardy enough to venture into the forest are pulled in further by the serenity of the crisp, cold air and promise of beauty.. to which they are often rewarded.

The few who have turned back then tell of a pale figure resembling a koi fish, her hair floating effortlessly as if they were suddenly found underwater, moonlight catching each strand. Only a moment passes before she turns and disappears into the night. Whispers on the wind plague those who follow until they're met with her gaze once more, but this time something isn't right... She blindly stares back, her eyes wide, white, and hallow, until you dare look away to see where she led you; planted right under a towering tori gate surrounded by translucent fish gracefully swimming despite the air.

Behind her, the faint light catches a pair of yellow eyes, quickly drawing your attention. Another pair of crimson eyes open next, then another, another, another. A thick blackness seeps from the gate as you stand stunned until everything is bathed in darkness. Only the sounds of fish moving against the current and a distant, echoing laugh hangs heavy on the dead, still air...