The Umbrella Goddess (瘡神様) is a figure from Japanese folklore who shares her origins with the 8′ Tall Woman. She carries her umbrella regardless of the weather or the season, her distinct identifying quality the way she carries it: in her mouth, gripped between gritted teeth. Once you’ve seen her, it’s already too late; the mere act of noticing her marks you as her prey, and there is only one method for escaping her hunt.

Step One: Lock yourself in a building that no one else can enter. This can be a shed, a public restroom, or your home, if you life alone. It cannot, however, be a space that is shared with others; others’ presences serve as conduits through which The Umbrella Goddess can gain access to her intended target, and any person that she uses in this manner will be gored when she exits their body. If you wish to keep not only yourself but your family, friends, or roommates safe, lock yourself away.

Step Two: Place dishes of blessed salt on the inside of either side of the doorway to your safehouse. The salt will both deter The Umbrella Goddess and notify you of her presence; if it turns black and begins to smolder, you will know that she is near.

Step Three: Do not, under any circumstances, open the door. The Umbrella Goddess will resort to any manner of trickery to secure her prey, disguising her face and her voice to convince you that she is a friend. She is not. No matter how hungry you are, how thirsty you are, how badly you need to pee, how lonely and afraid you feel, do not open the door for anyone or anything that pays you a visit.

Step Four: Do not, under any circumstances, emerge until sunrise. The Umbrella Goddess is an efficient but impatient huntress; she does not appreciate a hunt that presents too many challenges. If she is unable to secure her prey before sunrise, she will abandon the hunt. Even if you think you’ve bested her, and even if you’re certain she’s left you alone, she hasn’t. She will pursue you until the sun rises, when she will have the opportunity to seek new prey.

If you succeed in following these four steps, you will have successfully evaded The Umbrella Goddess for the time being. If, however, you break any one of these rules, you will be hunted. When The Umbrella Goddess catches you — and she will catch you — she will dig her long, filthy nails into the softest parts of your flesh, cutting into you, snaring you. Then, she’ll cripple you: either by severing the tendons in your legs or breaking the bones altogether. Once she is satisfied that you cannot escape, she will consume the unsavory parts of you first, stripping the flesh from your fingers and toes with sharp, jagged teeth. With that unpleasantness out of the way, she will indulge in the tenderest bits of your flesh: your eyes, your cheeks, your intestines. If you’re lucky, you will either lose consciouss or die before she completes her ritual. If you’re not, you’ll feel her snake her boney hands into your vacant abdomen, reaching into your chest to tear your ribs apart from the inside. You’ll feel the bones crack, then splinter, then break as she gains access to your heart and lungs. And if by some incredible stroke of bad luck you’re still conscious, you’ll feel her rip first one lung, then the other out of your chest. First you’ll feel your breath quicken as you struggle for oxygen, these small sips turning to impotent gasps as your second lung is torn from you. The last sound you will hear before losing consciousness is that of your bloodied meat squelching in her rotten mouth, grotesque sounds of pleasure escaping her throat as she enjoys her meal. Fortunately, however, the loss of oxygen will render you unable to cling to consciousness; you will enter the darkness well before she consumes your heart.