This is a story from back when I was still living with my granddad, running a dairy farm at my childhood home.

Having lost my father early on, I lived in a five-person household with my mother, my younger sister, my granddad, and my grandma.

I had been working hard assisting my granddad, intending to take over the dairy farm that my late father was originally supposed to inherit.

Then one day, as I was hauling hay out of the barn toward the cow shed like usual, I suddenly heard Granddad scream.

Tossing my cart aside, I rushed over to the shed where the scream had come from and found Granddad in his T-shirt, collapsed on his rear on the floor, trembling uncontrollably.

I hurried over to support him, but—

"D-don't come over here! Get away!!"

Blood vessels bulged on his forehead as he roared at me. Instantly realizing this was no ordinary situation, I frantically scanned the area.

Then—

—Sploosh, squelch

A misshapen, wet sound.

The sound of something liquid squirming echoed from a corner of the cow shed.

My eyes were drawn to it, and I stood there, utterly speechless.

"D-don't look! You mustn't look!!"

Granddad shouted right in my ear, but his voice barely registered.

My body froze, gripped by a cold so intense it felt as though I'd been encased in ice.

What stood before my eyes was... something beyond words.

A mixture of blood and bodily fluids dripped heavily from between a cow's hind legs.

And connected to that, something was squirming on the ground.

It looked white, almost like a calf's body, but it had no head. No, it wasn't missing a head—it was melting. What's more, it couldn't even be called a cow's head; it was shaped in a way that somehow resembled a human face.

Covered in slick bodily fluids, it squirmed with grotesque, squelching sounds, until finally the face portion—a slit like a mouth—opened slightly.

"E-evac... comin'... it's comin' he-hehe... comin' here... zzz... g-gonna die, gonna die... everyone, everyone's gonna DIE! High, mount, high place, run away... gya, heheh...!"

After spewing those hideous words, it writhed its body, and a bizarre white smoke began rising from its entire form. Smoke just like steam.

Right before the stunned eyes of Granddad and me, its body gradually began to dissolve, until it was swallowed into the ground and vanished.

A wet mark remained on the ground, sizzling as it exhaled faint wisps of smoke.

As we stood there dazed, Granddad snapped back to his senses.

"We're going back..."

he muttered softly, standing up.

Leaving the cow shed behind, we returned to the house.

I was told to stay in my room, so I quietly obeyed, but before long, several car engines rumbled outside as visitors arrived.

Peeking through the gap in the curtains, I could see several familiar mini-trucks parked outside.

In this region, there's nothing but rice paddies, houses, and matching cow sheds—plenty of land, but very few residents. Aside from me, almost everyone else was elderly.

The folks who had gathered at the house all seemed to be familiar faces.

Curious about what was starting, I quietly slipped out of my room.

Creeping close to the living room, I heard a voice.

"Did you really see it...?"

It was Mr. Yasuda's voice. He was Granddad's childhood friend and ran a dairy farm as well.

"There's no doubt about it... that was a Kudan..."

"Phew..."

At Granddad's words, murmurs and sighs erupted from the surrounding crowd.

"If it told us to run, does that mean something's gonna happen?"

"I don't know, it didn't tell me what would happen. High places, bad... gotta flee to high ground on the mountain, or something like that..."

"High ground...? Around here, the only high ground is the mountain behind us with the observation deck."

"Yeah... but telling us to run..."

As Granddad spoke, voices rose in agreement around him.

"Th-that's right! We've lived on this land our whole lives! We can't just abandon our fields and cattle and run now!"

"Yeah! Me neither!"

"Still though..."

Mr. Yasuda spoke up, trying to calm everyone down.

Kudan...?

I rushed back to my room, opened my laptop, and searched for "Kudan."

There were a huge number of results, but as I picked out the notable ones and read through them, I gathered the following summary:

Around 1860, it was reported in a certain home that a half-human, half-beast creature was born from a cow.

It is a monster said to utter a prophecy—mostly regarding disasters or plagues—immediately after birth, and then die shortly afterward...

What is this...? A monster...?

I slammed my laptop shut without thinking.

Letting out a deep sigh, I sprawled out on the tatami mat. Looking up at the ceiling, I recalled the scene from this morning.

That sinister form, those prophetic words... and that unbelievable sight.

Slamming my clenched fist onto the tatami, I drifted off to sleep.

After that, life continued as normal. Until early morning on the second day.

As I was heading toward the cow shed as usual, my body suddenly reeled.

Anemia?

The moment I wondered that, the ground beneath me rolled like a wave.

Looking around, the calendar on the wall flew off, shelves overturned, and the building itself groaned and creaked violently.

Seeing all that, I finally realized it was an earthquake.

Crouching in place with nothing else to do, the shaking finally subsided.

I scrambled to my feet and ran toward the house, ignoring the cows crying out in distress.

There were several figures in the entryway; as I drew closer, I saw it was my family. It looked like everyone was safe.

As soon as my mother saw my face, she burst into tears and hugged me.

"Mom, are you okay!? Is—is everyone alright?"

Looking around, my sister, Granddad, and Grandma all managed to nod back at me.

"For now, let's get the car and flee to high ground!"

I handed the car keys from my pocket to Mom and instructed them to grab the essentials and go to the car.

But Granddad—

"Granddad!?"

Granddad bit his lip tightly for a moment, then suddenly bolted back toward the cow shed. I quickly chased after him.

"Granddad! What are you doing!? We have to run! An aftershock could hit any second!!"

I yelled at Granddad's back as he stood inside the cow shed, his hands trembling violently.

"Shut up! I... I ain't moving from here!"

"Wh—what are you saying...!? If we don't run, everyone... everyone's gonna die!!"

"Was it the Kudan...?"

Suddenly, Granddad spoke in a feeble voice.

"Y-yeah... I looked it up... That thing is bad news, right? Prophesying disasters and all... I still can't believe it... but now that this happened, we have no choice but to believe it!"

"Even so!"

Granddad's roaring voice made my shoulders flinch in fear.

"Even so... I grew up here... with these cows... always together... This is all I know... This is all I have..."

Saying that, Granddad looked around at the cows in the shed, his shoulders slumping heavily.

At that very instant—

—Rumble rumble rumble rumble!

An aftershock.

Instantly covering Granddad, we both crouched down on the spot.

The cows bellowed frantically, the building groaned violently, and surrounding items scattered everywhere with loud crashes.

The shaking lasted for about thirty seconds, but to me, clenching my teeth with all my might, it felt like hours.

"Has it... stopped?"

Raising my head, my eyes met Granddad's stunned expression.

"C-can you stand?"

"Y-yeah."

Prompted by Granddad, I took his outstretched hand and stood up.

But in the next moment—

"Ruuun... I told you to run, I TOUuLD YOU, why didn't you ruuun... didn't run... die... die... die die die DIE DIEEEE!!"

A grotesque, sinister roar.

Turning toward the voice, between the hind legs of one of the cows was that...

"K-K-Kudan...!?"

"Gaaah!"

The moment Granddad uttered the name of the Kudan, I shrieked and fell hard onto my rear.

White smoke sizzled and billowed into the air. That grotesquely misshapen creature dissolved and vanished as if sucked into the ground, just like before.

Afterward, exhausted, we returned to the house to find Mom and the others waiting for us in the car. In the end, it turned out no one had fled the area.

A short while later, town officials called for an evacuation, and our family was guided to the town gymnasium.

At the shelter, familiar faces welcomed us warmly. It turned out that none of the other villagers, including Mr. Yasuda, had tried to run either. Part of it might have been old age, but perhaps they all felt the same way my granddad did.

And then, Mr. Yasuda told us this:

"On the way here, I heard from the town folks that the observation deck got completely destroyed by a landslide..."

"A—a landslide!?"

"Yeah... Sounds like the ground up there was already weak, but if we had fled up there, by now we'd be..."

Gulping hard, I stood frozen; eventually, my trembling legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor.

That is the story from back when I used to live with my granddad.

Unfortunately, after that incident, I gave up on taking over the dairy farm and started working an office job instead.

Granddad passed away two years ago, and the dairy business was shut down.

Now I live with my grandma, my mother, and my younger sister—a family of four.

There was a path to continue dairy farming, but right now, I don't have the courage.

Not until the day comes when I finally understand what that thing... that thing that was probably not a Kudan... truly was.