Junji Ito’s The Thing That Drifted Ashore is a short, simple, but also deeply disturbing story. It’s less about what happens, and more about what it suggests.

While the most memorable part is its visual centerpiece, the sea creature washed ashore, the true horror of the tale goes much deeper. It’s about survival, identity and horrors of the deep sea.

Plot Overview – A Monstrous Discovery

The story opens after a massive sea creature washes ashore. Yet something’s different. It’s not a whale or other known marine animal, but something far different and alien. Soon enough a crowd of people gathers. Some are there out of curiosity, others to identify the unknown creature. Amongst them is a young man, terrified of sea creatures, and a young woman named Mie, who lost her fiancé in a shipwreck seven years ago.

While the scientists examine the creature, they notice something strange. Certain parts of the creature’s skin are translucent, and behind it, human faces can be seen.

At first, it’s presumed they are the creature’s victims, but it’s soon discovered that they are still alive. Yet when the creature’s body is cut open, there’s an even more horrifying revelation: the people inside are still alive. They are the shipwrecked who survived by becoming parasites. When they finally break free, however, they are no longer sane, but entirely broken.

What Makes The Thing That Drifted Ashore So Good?

It’s one of Ito’s most minimalistic stories, but also one of his most haunting. The narrative is straightforward, yet every detail builds towards its final, horrifying revelation.

The creature itself is a masterpiece of grotesque design. It’s gigantic, serpentine, and utterly alien. Its head comprises nothing but tumorous growth and tendrils, making it look more like a deranged nightmare than any known species. The scientists speculate that it’s a prehistoric lifeform, something much older than man. All that’s clear, however, is just how little we know about the depths of the ocean.

The horror deepens at the idea of people surviving as parasites, adapting and transforming while inside an alien organism. They survived, but at what cost?

The story’s most haunting element, comes from the young man who fears sea creatures. His fear is validated in the worst possible way. If the creature’s skin is translucent, and the people survived behind it for seven years, then what exactly did they see down there? Was it really living on as parasites that drove them mad, or was it something else?

This gives us the story’s final implication. While the creature that drifted ashore is nightmarish, there might be things out there that are much, much more horrifying.

Deeper Themes – Survival, Transformation, and the Abyss

The core question of the story is what it means to live inside another being. The thought is horrifying. For the people inside this story, survival comes at the cost of transformation and losing one’s humanity. As a result, their minds are broken, their identities warped, and they ultimately end up as insane.

The story also toys with our fear of the unknown, specifically the depths of the ocean. First, by the appearance of the grotesque creature that washed ashore. Then, by the idea of humans being forced to become parasites. And lastly, the implication that there are much worse horrors down in the depths of the ocean. This last part is the real horror of the story. We just don’t know, and that’s what makes the story’s terror linger.

The Thing That Washed Ashore also touches on the theme of voyeurism, spectacle and indifference. People flood to the beach to take in the view of the strange creature, almost as if it’s an attraction. None of them care about the creature itself, drawing sharp parallels to people gawking at beached whales. People don’t care about suffering, all they care about is spectacle.

Final Verdict – Quiet, Simple, and Cosmic

The Thing That Drifted Ashore might be one of Ito’s simpler stories, but it’s still quite a piece. It’s not a story that relies on scares or gore, but on the final revelation and its implications.

It’s a story about the cost of survival, how it can warp people, and the horrors that lie below the surface.

Looking for more Junji Ito? Check out my reviews of Fashion Model and The Licking Woman, or my complete list of the best 40 Junji Ito stories.

Junji Ito’s The Licking Woman is remembered for one thing and one thing alone, the image of a grotesquely bloated tongue stretching from an unnaturally warped face. It’s an image that’s frequently shared online for how absurd and visceral it is.

The story itself, however, has much more to offer than this single panel. Below its surface lies a disturbing tale of bodily invasion, trauma and the horror of losing your own agency.

Plot Overview – A Deathly Lick

The story begins with Miku’s fiancé, Tsuyoshi. On his way home, he’s licked by a strange woman. At first, he laughs it off, but shortly after, he falls ill and eventually dies. At the hospital, a toxic substance is found in his bloodstream.

Before long, reports of more victims surface, and the story of a mysterious ‘Licking Woman’ begins spreading. A grief-stricken Miku joins the local neighborhood watch and manages to subdue the woman. The Licking Woman is hospitalized, but no toxins are found on her tongue.

Years later, Miku meets a woman named Nagaoka, who claims to have been another victim of the Licking Woman. When they learn of the Licking Woman’s release, they form a plan to kill her using potassium cyanide.

When new cases surface, Miku confronts the Licking Woman once more. As the story draws to a close, however, it takes an unexpected turn. It’s not only revealed that Nagaoka might have been the Licking Woman, but that her tongue might have had its own agency. Even worse, Miku, who thought she’d left it all behind, eventually succumbs to the same horror when a giant, bloated and poisonous tongue barges from her mouth.

What Makes the Licking Woman So Good?

The Licking Woman is one of Ito’s shorter tales, but it’s amongst his most iconic and uniquely unsettling. It begins with an almost laughable premise, a woman licking random strangers, but it soon turns terrifying.

The visuals are stunning, and once again showcase Ito’s mastery of the craft. We witness a disgustingly swollen tongue that’s both wet and entirely alien. The Licking Woman’s face is distorted, her eyes both wild and lifeless at the same time.

Yet it’s not just the visuals that make this story a stand out, it’s the ambiguity. What exactly is the tongue? Is it a parasite? A disease? We never truly find out, and as so often, this ambiguity is the real genius of the story. There’s also Nagaoka. We have to wonder, how much was she the Licking Woman, and how much was she controlled by something else? When the tongue vanishes after Nagaoka’s death, and later bursts from Miku’s mouth, we’re left with more questions than answers.

That’s why the story lingers. It’s not just disgusting or disturbing, but deeply unsettling.

Deeper Themes – Bodily Invasion, Trauma and Parasitic Horror

At its most literal, The Licking Woman is a tale about the horror of unwanted physical content. Being licked by a stranger isn’t merely unsettling, it’s disgusting and a clear violation of personal boundaries.

Normally, licking is associated with affection and intimacy, but here it’s invasive, predatory and eventually fatal. Even worse, it touches on our fear of disease transmission and contamination.

The story also heavily plays into psychological trauma and the shattering of intimacy. Those who survive the Licking Woman’s attack are never the same. They develop an aversion to being licked by pets, and even being kissed or touched by loved ones. It shows how trauma reshapes not only our body but also our mind.

The tongue is the story’s most interesting element. If it truly is a sentient organism with a life of its own, it gives the story yet another layer. This change The Licking Woman from a tale about a human-shaped monster, to one of parasitic horror.

The tongue distorts and warps its host, takes control and drives it to do abhorrent things. Seen through that lens, Nagaoka’s plan of killing the Licking Woman could be interpreted as her fighting her own parasitic infection. It’s her wish to free herself from the other that lingers inside her body, ready to break free at any moment and take control of her.

Final Verdict – Grotesque, Uncomfortable and Visually Stunning

The Licking Woman is a deeply unsettling story. Its imagery is unforgettable, but so is the intimacy of its horror. It’s not merely a tale of bodily invasion and its dire consequences, but one of parasitic horror and being controlled against your own will.

If you’re looking for a short, but deeply disturbing Junji Ito story, The Licking woman is an essential read.

Looking for more Junji Ito? Check out my reviews of Dissection Girl and Fashion Model, or my long list of the best 40 Junji Ito stories.

You can find it in Junji Ito’s Venus in the Blind Spot collection, available on Amazon.

Fashion model is another fan favorite story by Junji Ito, and for a good reason.

It’s a rather short and simple horror story, but one that stands out because of its central figure: Miss Fuchi. The moment we see her, we know instantly that something’s wrong with her. Her face is too long, her features inhumane and uncanny. No, we can tell this is not a normal person, but something entirely different.

Plot Overview – A Monster in Human Clothing

The story follows Iwasaki, a film student. After seeing Miss Fuchi in a fashion magazine, her uncanny appearance causes him to suffer from terrible nightmares.

When he and his fellow students begin casting for a short film, they put out a casting call. In the end, only three people sent in submissions, but Iwasaki recognizes one of them right away. It’s the terrible fashion model that so haunted him for the past weeks. Yet the others disregard his warnings, and decide to cast her anyway, believing that including her might bring more attention to their film.

As the group sets out, however, Miss Fuchi’s appearance and behavior soon begin unnerving the rest of the crew. Tensions rise, things take a turn for the worse, and Miss Fuchi reveals her true nature. She’s not merely a scary or weird looking woman, but a cannibalistic monster.

What Makes Fashion Model So Good?

Fashion Model differs from other Junji Ito stories. It’s neither a psychological horror story, nor does it feature cosmic elements. No, it’s a simple monster-tale, one about a terrifying creature pretending to be a normal human being.

The most memorable part of the story is, without a doubt, Miss Fuchi’s design. It’s instantly memorable for how comically off-putting it is. She’s the uncanny made flesh, something that looks almost human, but is definitely not. This dissonance lingers, and grows stronger as the story progresses, making her one of Junji Ito’s most iconic creations.

Fashion Model is also amongst the tensest of Ito’s stories. Right from the get-go, the moment Iwasaki first notices Miss Fuchi in the fashion magazine, we can feel something terrible is coming. This tension never breaks, and intensifies whenever we see Miss Fuchi and the more of her terrifying nature is revealed.

Deeper Themes – Hidden Danger, Instinct, and Monstrosity in Plain Sight

While Fashion Model might be one of Junji Ito’s simpler horror stories, there are still deeper themes hidden beneath its surface.

Iwasaki’s initial revulsion of Miss Fuchi turns out to be more than justified. His instincts told him something was wrong, but he eventually ignored it. It’s his hesitation that becomes fatal and showcases how often we second-guess our instincts to be rational or appear open-minded.

Miss Fuchi’s role as a fashion model, a profession rooted in beauty, can be seen as deeply ironic. It’s the idea that even a monster can wear normal clothes, and with enough glamor, enough attention, will be accepted without question. It’s a reminder that the most dangerous figures often hide in plain sight.

The story’s backdrop in the entertainment industry feels almost too deliberate. Miss Fuchi might have known that her status as a fashion model would guarantee her a role in the film. Seen through this lens, her behavior feels calculated, predatory even, as if her submission was nothing but a lure meant to draw in new prey.

Final Verdict – Simple, Uncanny, but Unforgettable

Fashion Model is pure horror and pure Junji Ito. It’s a story that shocks and unsettles you right from the get go, and continues to build up tension until its horrifying climax. Miss Fuchi is one of Ito’s most iconic creations for a reason, and her image will stay with you long after you read the story.

If you’re looking for a terrifying entry point into Junji Ito’s work, Fashion Model is perfect.

Looking for more Junji Ito? Check out my reviews of Greased, Dissection Girl, or my list of the best 40 Junji Ito stories.

You can find Fashion Model in Junji Ito’s Shiver collection, available on Amazon.

I read pretty much everything that Junji Ito has published over his long career, but few of his stories made my skin crawl the way Greased (also known as Glyceride) did. It’s not his scariest, but it might be his most disgusting story. Every page, every panel, feels coated in filth. It’s grotesque, visceral, and even if you want to look away, you just can’t.

While many of Ito’s stories focus on supernatural forces or existential dread, Greased is entirely grounded in reality. Here the horror comes from one’s own home, and from family dynamics that slowly rot away.

Plot Overview – A Grease-Soaked Nightmare

The story follows Yui, a teenage girl who lives above her family’s yakiniku restaurant. Right from the beginning, the setting is oppressive, disgusting even. The walls are greasy; the air is heavy with oil fumes, and even the floor is covered in grime that has built up over years. While her father’s busy running the restaurant below, she’s at the whims of her sadistic and cruel older brother who seems to thrive in this environment.

When Goro hits puberty, he develops severe acne. Over time, however, their disgusting living situation worsens it markedly, transforming his acne into enormous, crater-like pustules. Before long, Goro’s face resembles nothing but a giant crater-landscape.

Eventually Yui realizes just how disturbing a place her home has become. Her father’s business has long been failing, but suddenly starts booming again, after he sells a new type of meat. At the same time, Goro has vanished. The implications are clear, but that’s not the end of the events at play.

What Makes Greased So Good?

The story invokes one and one emotion alone: disgust. Ito does it masterfully; the setting is oppressive, suffocating even. Every surface of Yui’s home, and even she herself, is covered in grease and filth, almost as if there’s no escape from it. Everything sticks, everything reeks, and to us, it all feels wrong.

Greased is a story that switches traditional monsters and the supernatural with filth, bodily decay and the corruption of family bonds. Goro’s horrible transformation upon hitting puberty is a metaphor for how a toxic environment can warp a person beyond recognition. This can especially be seen in his long rant shortly before his death, his hate of society, and him wanting to get revenge on everyone who looks down on him and sees him as disgusting.

Even Yuri changes, but differently. Not only her home and her body seem to be covered in grease, but slowly even her mind begins to warp. Her only solace, watching mount Fuji, dreaming of a better, cleaner existence, changes into a grease-erupting volcano as her mind continues to spiral.

Another point of interest is Ito’s inspiration for the story. While studying at a dental school, he had to sleep on disgusting futons, stained brown from the sweat of former students.

Deeper Themes – Domestic Abuse and the Horror of Decay

Beneath all the filth, Greased is ultimately the story of a dysfunctional family. Their home life is toxic, both literally and figuratively.

Domestic abuse and control are central themes, but also the decay of morality. Goro’s torment of his sister is unrelenting and unchecked, but also a direct result of their living condition. Even worse, their father’s cold, and seems to care more about his failing business than his family. The environment they live in mirrors the psychological horror of parental and social neglect. Layers of grease are coating the home, just as trauma and rot infest those living inside of it.

The body horror here is key, too. The infamous panel of Goro’s ‘crater face’ erupting is one of Ito’s most visceral and disgusting, but it shows more than just physical decay. Goro’s body might be changed by their disgusting living condition, but it’s neglect and self-abuse that twist his mind.

Yet there are other, even deeper metaphors that some readers have spun. Some question if the story is a metaphor for unhealthy eating, obsessive consumption and the effects it has on body and mind. It might be, it might not. What I stand by, however, is that Greased is a metaphor for how toxic environments can literally and figuratively erode both body and soul.

Final Verdict – One of Ito’s Most Viscerally Disturbing Stories

Greased is not subtle, and it doesn’t want to be. It’s gross and disturbing by design. It might lack the deeper cosmic or existential horror of such stories as Long Dream and Enigma at Amigara Fault, but it sticks with you in a different way.

Greased is an excellent entry point for those readers who want to explore Ito’s nastier, more visceral stories, and features some of his most iconic panels.

Looking for more Junji Ito? Check out my review of Long Dream, Uzumaki, or my full ranking of the best 40 Junji Ito stories.

Greased is available in Junji Ito’s Shiver collection, available on Amazon.

Among Junji Ito’s many unsettling tales, Long Dream stands out for its unique blend of body horror and existential dread. While many of his stories stayed on my mind, this one holds a special place for its unique exploration of consciousness and the nature of reality.

Plot Overview – Eternal Life in the Realm of Dreams

The story centers on Mami, a young woman hospitalized with a terminal brain tumor. She’s gripped by an intense fear of death. Her terrors grow even worse when she claims death herself visited her room.

Unbeknownst to her, the figure she saw was Tetsuro Mukoda, another patient suffering from a peculiar condition. Whenever he goes to sleep, his dreams extend in duration. At first, they last days, but eventually years and even decades. Upon waking, he even keeps the memories of these prolonged dreams, resulting in profound psychological as well as physical changes.

As Mukoda’s dreams lengthen, his body slowly deteriorates, reflecting the strain his condition has upon his body. When he eventually succumbs to his condition, his body crumbles to dust, leaving behind nothing but mysterious crystals.

Dr. Kuroda, the attending practitioner, sees the potential of the crystals, and administers them to Mami. He believes that this might allow her to escape death by dreaming eternally.

What Makes Long Dream So Good?

Long Dream masterfully combines psychological horror with a profound philosophical question. The concept of experiencing entire lifetimes within a single night is as fascinating as it is terrifying. Mukoda himself outlines certain nights in which he suffered from terrible nightmares that lasted months or even years.

This theme resonated with me deeply, and served as the inspiration for one of my horror stories, The Special Dish.

Ito’s portrayal of Mukoda’s gradual loss of identity and humanity, as well as his confusion upon waking, all underscore the fragility of our perception of reality.

Once again, this story doesn’t stem from external dangers or monsters, but from the internal collapse of the self and the blurring lines between reality and fiction. Mukoda’s final transformation into an unrecognizable, alien being serves as a chilling metaphor for losing touch with the waking world.

Deeper Interpretations – The Illusion of Immortality and the Fear of Oblivion

At its core, Long Dream delves into the human desire to escape death, and the consequences of such pursuits. Mukoda’s condition is nothing but a twisted form of immortality, a mind living in endless dreams, detached from the physical world. This eternal existence, however, becomes a curse, leading to isolation in a prison of his own making, and the eventual erosion of his entire self.

Mami’s initial fear of death is a stark contrast to the horror of Mukoda’s endless dreams. One fears the dread of non-existence, the other the terror of unending consciousness. Dr. Kuroda’s experiment on Mami begs the question of if it’s right to extend someone’s life if it costs them their humanity.

Final Verdict – A Masterpiece of Existential Horror

Long Dream is a story that serves as a profound exploration of the human psyche, morality, and the nature of reality. Junji Ito’s ability to weave complex philosophical themes into horror narratives is unparalleled. The story serves as a cautionary tale about the dangers of tampering with the natural order of things, and the unforeseen consequences of our deepest desires.

For those who are intrigued by a compelling mixture of body horror and existential philosophy, Long Dream is a must-read.

Looking for more Junji Ito? Check out my essay in his style and themes, my review of Hanging Balloons, or my extensive list of the best 40 Junji Ito stories.

Long Dream is available in Junji Ito’s Shiver collection, available on Amazon.

I first came across Layers of Fear years ago, long before the story was ever officially translated. While I couldn’t understand a word, the outlandish visuals alone had me completely transfixed. Junji Ito has a gift for disturbing imagery, but in this story, he pushes it to its most surreal and grotesque extremes.

Layers of Fear is amongst Ito’s most outlandish, imaginative and terrifying one-shots, and his best work in recent years.

Plot Overview – A Family in Layers

The story opens in typical Junji Ito fashion. During an archeological excavation, a professor uncovers a strange set of layers. When an infant’s skull is discovered, the man realizes the layers are part of a burial mound or burial ritual.

Years after his death, his daughter Remi and her family are on their way to a memorial ceremony. After barely avoiding an accident, the car crashes against a street sign, leaving part of Remi’s sliced off.

Instead of a gaping wound, however, the injury reveals something much more disturbing, another face underneath. It’s a perfectly preserved replica of a younger version of Remi. During a hospital visit, it’s revealed that Remi’s body is similar to that of a tree, comprising nothing but layers upon layers stacked upon one another.

What follows is a descent into pure body horror. While Remi struggles to understand her condition, her mother, still obsessed with her daughter’s childhood as a former star, wants nothing more than to get her little girl back. One terrible night, she decides to do so, and begins peeling back Remi’s layers.

What Makes Layers of Fear so Good?

While its bizarre premise is part of its appeal, Layers of Fear succeeds on a variety of levels. It thrives because it combines Ito’s visual horror with deeper, more emotionally disturbing scenes.

The story’s horror is as multilayered as its protagonist. There’s the raw physical horror of someone’s body being torn apart, and its layers being peeled away one by one, but there’s also the emotional horror of someone’s inner-most workings laid bare for all the world to see.

Junji Ito’s art is at its absolute peak here. Even amongst his stories, there are few who can compare to the sheer level of grotesqueness at play in Layers of Fear. The peeling back of Remi’s layers, first almost tender, but finally manic, is terrifying, but what’s finally revealed to lie below is the stuff of nightmares.

Deeper Interpretations – Identity, Obsession, and the Horror of Regression

While Layers of Fear is visually stunning and disturbing, its deeper themes are worth talking about. The story is a critique of parental obsession and identity erasure.

Remi’s mother isn’t just a controlling parent, but a stand-in for a society that romanticizes childhood, idealized youth, and who can’t let go of the past. When it’s shown that her daughter’s childhood self might still be buried ‘under the surface,’ she takes it as a second chance to reclaim her lost past.

We learn, however, that this obsession is futile. There’s never a way to go back, and while Remi looks back fondly at her childhood, she’s happy as an adult. When her mother peels back all of her layers, all of what makes her who she is, Remi is reduced to nothing but an empty shell. While her layers might grow back, as shown in the story’s final panel, her appearance will never be the same. This is nothing short but a metaphor for the damage her mother has done to her.

On a lighter note, the story can also be seen as a subtle critique of child stardom and parental grooming. When parents project their own drams onto their child, and live through them, they often cause them irreversible harm.

Final Verdict – One of Ito’s Strangest and Strongest

Layers of Fear is a haunting, surreal, but also painfully emotional story, all within only forty pages. It showcases everything Ito excels at: visceral body horror, ambiguity, and powerful psychological themes.

It might not be as popular as Uzumaki or The Enigma of Amigara Faults, but it’s just as good.

If you enjoy horror that’s both disturbing and thematically rich, Layers of Fear is an absolute must-read.

Looking for more Junji Ito? Check out my review of Army of One, my essay on his style and themes, or my complete ranking of the best 40 Junji Ito stories.

Army of One stands out as one of Junji Ito’s most underappreciated masterpieces. It was originally published as a bonus story alongside Hellstar Remina, but, in my opinion, it completely overshadows it.

It’s a blend of psychological horror, societal commentary and existential dread. Even more interesting, it offers a reversal of one of horror’s most classic rules: safety in numbers.

Plot Overview – A City in Stitches

The story follows Michio, a young man and loner by nature, who bears witness to a chilling phenomenon unfolding first in his city, and eventually all over Japan.

It begins with two bodies found stitched together in a public place. At first, people dismiss it as an isolated incident and a cruel act of murder.

Before long, however, things escalate, and soon groups of three, four, even dozens of corpses are found stitched together as grotesque displays. Even stranger, the victims show no signs of struggle or resistance, almost as if they willingly succumbed to whoever is responsible. Soon enough, panic grips the nation.

In most popular horror stories, you survive by sticking together. Yet in Army of One, this concept is flipped. Gathering in groups is a death sentence, and only those who isolate themselves are safe.

What Makes Army of One so Good?

The brilliance of Army of One lies in how it not only distorts but weaponized one of our fundamental human instincts, the need for social connection, and turns it deadly.

Once again, Junji Ito masterfully escalates the horror. Early murders feel plausible, but when the body count grows, and corpses are found as part of massive, sprawling displays, the story shifts from a serial killer thriller to one of surreal, existential horror.

As the story continues, we witness a gradual breakdown of society. Public events are cancelled, people isolate themselves from society, and even mutual trust all but dissolves.

Ito captures this descent by employing his usual stark black-and-white style. It’s clean, simplistic, but increasingly claustrophobic.

Another highlight of the story is its ambiguity, and the fear of the unknown. We never find out who’s behind the killings. All we learn about is an enigmatic group named ‘Army of One,’ which seems to always have dropped fliers before the killings. Yet, how can a single group, however big, be responsible for murders on a nation-wide scale. This uncertainty deeps the horror, and it invites the question about what’s truly happening. Is it mass hysteria, collective violence, or the work of supernatural forces?

Deeper Interpretations – Isolation, Hikikomori, and Toxic Group Pressure

Beyond its surface, Army of One can be interpreted as a criticism of modern Japanese society, particularly the tension between individuality and collectivism.

Anyone familiar with Japanese society knows about the role of conformity. Toxic group pressure, especially in working environments, is common. Looking at Army of One through this lens, one can see parallels. Joining into this culture of collectivism, into these groups, leads to the erosion or even death of individualism.

Another point of interest is the Hikikomori phenomenon in Japan. Starting during the late 1990s and 2000s, more and more young people isolated themselves from society, and instead, spend their days inside their rooms.

Looking at Michio, one can see the parallels. The reason for his survival is the choice to withdraw from an oppressive, toxic, and ultimately fatal society.

At a deeper existential level, Army of One also portrays the collapse of communal bonds. There’s a rising fear that contact with anyone, even friends and family, can spell doom. This, in turn, entirely erodes human connections, and in a world without trust, survival demands nothing but loneliness and isolation.

Final Verdict – An Underappreciated Horror Masterpiece

Army of One is one of Junji Ito’s most chilling and intellectual stories. It perfectly combines visceral horror with social commentary, creating a story that feels both real, but also strangely important.

If you’re a fan of horror that goes deeper than just scares and gore, Army of One is an absolute must-read.

It’s a story about the dangers of modern society, toxic group pressure and conformity, all shown via a display of surreal horror.

Looking for more Junji Ito? Check out my ranking of the best 40 Junji Ito stories, or dive into my in-depth review of Uzumaki and The Enigma of the Amigara Fault.

You can find Army of One as a bonus story in Hellstar Remina, available on Amazon.

I still remember discovering The Enigma of Amigara Fault back in 2006, when it was first translated and shared on 4chan. Even amongst a plethora of strange and unsettling tales, it stood out. It was not only creepy, but unforgettable, making me a Junji Ito fan overnight.

The Enigma of Amigara Fault quickly became a viral sensation amongst horror manga readers. There’s one simple reason for it: it taps into a primal, almost unspeakable fear.

Plot Overview – The Call of the Holes

After an earthquake in a remote mountainous region, a bizarre geological phenomenon is uncovered: a fault line covered in human-shaped holes carved into the rock.

The news spreads and before long, curious onlookers from all over the country, including our unnamed narrator and a woman named Yoshida, set out to travel to the site.

Yet the holes themselves aren’t the strangest part of the story. The people traveling there did so for one specific reason: a powerful, almost inexplicable urge. Each person is convinced that one of the holes was made for them specifically.

Soon enough, driven by an irresistible compulsion, people begin to enter their holes and disappear into the mountain.

No one knows where the holes came from, or where they lead. Yet people continue to enter, for the urge to fit into what was seemingly made for them alone is too strong to resist.

What Makes The Enigma of Amigara Fault so Good?

Unlike many other stories, it doesn’t rely on jump scares, gore or monsters. The horror is entirely psychological, and thus much more effective.

Junji Ito’s artwork in this tale is minimalist, almost clinical. It comprises an open sky, a stark cliff and narrow tunnels, nothing more. Yet even as a reader, you can almost feel the same pressure the characters do. There’s nothing to see, nothing but holes, and one specifically made for you.

The horror in The Enigma of Amigara Fault doesn’t come from external threats, but from internal compulsion. The most terrifying thing isn’t the mountain, not even the hole itself, but the part of you that wants to enter it.

Every page deepens the atmosphere of dread, and almost spells out the inevitable doom we know is coming.

The final scene, revealing the ultimate fate of those entering the hole, is one of the most unforgettable and terrifying images in all of horror manga. It serves as a perfect payoff for a slow-burn horror story centering on compulsion and inevitability.

Deeper Interpretations – The Death Drive and Doomed Curiosity

Similarly to Hanging Balloons, The Enigma of Amigara Fault can be seen as an interpretation of Sigmund Freud’s concept of the death drive (Todestrieb), which represents the idea that humans possess an unconscious urge toward self-destruction.

The characters in the story aren’t forced to enter the holes, but do so willingly. Even when warned, even when terrified, they are still compelled to walk to their own doom.

Another theme at play is that of doomed curiosity. Human beings are curious by nature, have an insatiable itch to understand the world around them, and to uncover its mysteries, even if doing so will destroy them. What we want, what we need, are the answers.

Lastly, the story also taps into our existential fear of losing control. Once a character finds their hole, their autonomy vanishes. Curiosity becomes obsession, obsession turns into compulsion and ultimately doom.

Final Verdict – A Perfect Short Horror Masterpiece

The Enigma of Amigara Fault is, without a doubt, one of Junji Ito’s best stories. It proves that horror doesn’t need a complicated setup or graphic violence. Sometimes, all it takes is to show us we each have a small voice in our minds that might call out to us one day and compel us to do something, even if doom is inevitable.

It’s a minimalist, haunting, and unforgettable as one of the finest works of psychological horror ever created.

If you haven’t read this story yet, I can’t recommend it enough. It’s recommended not only for fans of Junji Ito, but horror manga in general.

Looking for more Junji Ito horror? Check out my complete ranking of the best 40 Junji Ito stories, or my in-depth review of Uzumaki.

You can find The Enigma of Amigara Fault in Junji Ito’s horror collection Venus in the Blind Spot, available on Amazon.

I’ve been a fan of Junji Ito’s work for almost two decades, but Uzumaki will always hold a special place in my heart. It’s not just one of his most famous works, but one of the greatest horror manga ever created. Uzumaki is a towering achievement in the realm of horror manga for how deeply unsettling, but also how creative it is.

A Town Spiraling Into Madness

Uzumaki is set in the small, coastal town of Kurouzu-cho which falls victim to the terrifying and omnipotent curse of the spiral.

At first, the spiral’s influence appears random and almost inconspicuous: whirlpools in the river, odd patterns forming naturally, or spirals appearing in people’s hair. Yet even from the outset, we can feel a foreboding sense of unease that should reach its climax at the end of Uzumaki’s very first chapter. From here on out, the spiral’s influence intensifies in disturbing way, and grotesque transformations become commonplace.

Each incident feels isolated at first, but before long, Kirie Goshima and Shuichi Saitou, Uzumaki’s protagonists, realize a horrifying pattern. All the madness at play in Kurouzu-cho is related to one another, and the spiral’s not the result, but its cause, a destructive, inescapable force.

What Makes Uzumaki So Good?

The true brilliance of Uzumaki lies in its conceptual horror. There are no monsters here, no feasible antagonists, and no traditional villains to confront. There is only an antagonistic force in the shape of the spiral. It’s an idea made flesh, one that turns into an inescapable force that spells doom for all who encounter it.

Each chapter builds on this concept, showcasing the continued influence of the spiral in more and more ways that are as disturbing as they are inventive. For long stretches, Uzumaki’s almost an anthology of spiral related horror stories, witnessed by Kirie and Shuichi.

Junji Ito’s imagination is in full bloom here. People are being twisted into spiral shaped monstrosities, the wonder of childbirth is made nightmare, and an entire town is warped into a mad, spiral-shaped maze. The creativity on display is unmatched. Every new event feels not only visually distinct and unsettling but also ramps up the dread with each consecutive chapter.

Visual and Existential Horror

Its artwork in Uzumaki is among the best, if not the best, of his entire career. His stark black-and-white contrast helps capture the creeping, claustrophobic dread that lingers over Kurouzu-cho, showing that the town’s been doomed from the story’s outset.

His detailed illustrations bring terror to life not only through grotesque transformations and gore but also through his characters’ expressions. Sometimes people appear dejected and stare blankly at others. Sometimes their eyes widen and their faces distort as they are plunged into madness or lose their grip on reality.

Beyond the visceral horror, Uzumaki strikes at something deeper, however: existential horror. The spiral isn’t feasible. It’s not so much a conscious entity with a plan, but an indifferent, cosmic phenomenon. This Lovecraftian theme of humanity’s powerlessness against vast, incomprehensible forces is the heart of Uzumaki’s horror.

Some Weaknesses Worth Mentioning

The episodic structure of the first two volumes helps to build an atmosphere of dread and showcases the spiral’s influence around town. However, it feels almost too much like an anthology, and makes it hard to get invested with any of the characters appearing, and lessens the emotional impact of their demise.

Kirie Goshima, our main character, is almost too passive. She appears nothing more than a witness to the events at play. Perhaps she’s nothing but another helpless victim, or has been under the curse of the spiral since the story’s outset. Yet this is a common problem with Ito’s protagonists. They are less traditional characters with an agency of their own, but more vessel or stand-in for the reader to provide them with a point-of-view to witness the madness at play.

The third and last problem is the manga’s ending. While I found it satisfying, it also tries to give readers a loose explanation of what the spiral curse actually is. This can diminish the sense of mystery that so dominated the earlier chapters. Once again, horror often works best when the unknown stays unknown.

Final Verdict – A Hypnotic Horror Masterpiece

Uzumaki stands apart from other titles as one of the greatest horror manga ever made. While it features copious amounts of gore and jump scares, its horror centers on dread, inevitability, and the terrifying beauty of cosmic forces beyond our understanding.

If you’re a fan of horror manga, of Lovecraftian fiction, or the more surreal and bizarre realm of horror, Uzumaki is an absolute must-read.

Prepare yourself for one of the strangest, most nightmarish journeys horror fiction has to offer.

Looking for more Junji Ito horror? Explore my complete ranking of the 40 best Junji Ito Stories, my favorite 5 Uzumaki chapters, or my essay on Junji Ito’s style and themes.

Uzumaki is available in a beautiful omnibus edition, collecting all three volumes into one.

I’ve been reading Junji Ito’s works for years now, and I recently came to appreciate Hanging Balloons much more than ever before. It’s, in my opinion, one of Ito’s absolute best stories. It’s deeply disturbing, bizarre, surreal, and absurd, more so than almost any other horror manga.

Plot Overview – The Beginning of a Comically Absurd Apocalypse

The story is told from Kazuko’s perspective and begins with the tragic death of her best friend Terumi, a popular idol. Her death is nothing short of horrific. She’s found outside her apartment, dangling from a noose made of metal, haphazardly wrapped around electrical wires.

From here on out, Hanging Balloons appears to be a simple ghost story. For Temuri’s boyfriend, Shiorishi, states he can see her ghost drifting around the city. Yet there’s something odd about his story. It’s not her full figure, but only a giant floating replica of her head.

Before long, others notice the weird phenomena as well. At first, it’s blamed on hallucinations or mass hysteria. When photographs show up, however, a horrifying reality sets in. Temuri’s floating head is real.

Soon Kazuko bears witness for what’s yet to come. More and more floating heads appearing the sky, all bearing a person’s face, and flying towards them with a noose hanging below. The result is always the same horrific display: a person hung by their own image.

Yet there’s even more danger at hand. Fighting the balloons off won’t work, because if the balloons destroyed, the person they represent will die as well. Thus, all you can do is hide from its relentless approach, but it soon becomes clear that resistance seems all but futile.

What Makes it So Good?

The premise is absurd on paper, but in execution Junji Ito’s Hanging Balloons turns into pure nightmare fuel.

The story’s pacing is masterful. The story starts slowly, almost grounded, before turning into surreal horror. The gradual escalation of the plot makes it so good, and its final scene so much more chilling.

Another reason it works so well is Ito refusing to explain anything. Similarly to works like The Enigma of Amigara Fault or Army of One, the mystery is left intact. We never learn what the balloons are, where they came from or why they exist. The horror remains entirely unknown.

Deeper Interpretations – Idol Culture and the Death Drive

While Hanging Balloons is an excellent story on its own, it’s possible to look at it through a more psychological lens.

In the late 1999s, Japan faced a surge in suicide rates, especially amongst young adults. Suicides amongst public figures, such as idols, were highly publicized. In Japanese culture, idols represent purity and idealized youth. Their deaths often caused emotional shockwaves, and sometimes even copycat suicides amongst their fans.

Viewed this way, Junji Ito’s Hanging Balloons could be seen as an interpretation of the dark sides of idol culture and the contagious effect of public tragedy. Terumi’s death is public, tragic, and afterwards, death keeps spreading, almost like a social or psychological virus.

Each person is haunted by a balloon bearing their own face, which can be seen as a symbol of their internal despair. Once Terumi dies, others begin seeing death as inevitable, personal, inescapable, or even fascinating.

On a deeper psychological level, this mirrors Sigmund Freud’s concept of the death drive (Todestrieb), our unconscious urge towards self-destruction. The balloons externalize this drive. They aren’t random threats. Instead, they represent the characters’ own death, and their fascination with it, seeking them out.

Of course, Junji Ito itself leaves everything unexplained. But these layers of ambiguity, horror mixed not only with psychological but also culture and existential themes, make Hanging Balloons so much more fascinating.

Final Verdict – A Surreal Masterpiece

Hanging Balloons is one of Ito’s finest stories. It’s a blend of surreal, apocalyptic horror with absurdity and existential despair. It’s not just a scary story, but one that gnaws at you in a variety of ways, but without ever giving a clear explanation.

If you haven’t read it yet, I highly recommend you check out this surreal, absurd, and most of all, nightmarish masterpiece.

Looking for More Junji Ito Horror? Explore my complete ranking of the 40 Best Junji Ito Stories.

You can find Hanging Balloons in Junji Ito’s horror collection Shiver, available on Amazon.