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.