The 13 Most Haunted Places in the World: No. 1, Aokigahara Jukai, The Suicide Forest, Japan.
Aokigahara Jukai, literally
translated as “The Sea of Trees,” is a dense forest skirting the base of Mt.
Fuji in Japan.It is a strange forest,
an interesting eco-system where trees and undergrowth have grown over volcanic
rock silted up more than 1200 years ago from one of Mt. Fuji’s major
eruptions.A deep, web-like blanket of
lichen connects the trees in the deepest part of the forest, giving the
appearance of firm ground but in fact hiding deep crevices in the lava base
underneath.The outskirts of the forest
have been redeveloped as nature walks, and on the edge of the deepest part of
the sea of trees are two caves regularly visited by tourists interested in
exploring and photographing the unique geology and ice formations inside.
This alone would make Aokigahara
Jukai an interesting feature of Japan, one that might appeal to naturalists and
“ecological” tourists, but little more.But in fact, Aokigahara is infamous, notorious, a horror unto itself,
and the most haunted place in the world.
When I started this series I had
this place in mind as a definite for my list of Most Haunted Places in the
World.It was only after really
researching it, studying it, gazing mutely at the disturbing images of real
suicide victims in states of morbid suspended animation in little nooks and
crannies of this immense, sad sea of trees that I realized this was the most
haunting place I had ever encountered.Long after the computer was turned off, over a long period of days, the
images and the story continued to haunt me like nothing I have ever
experienced.I could not get it off my
mind.That a place could have such
power, could convey such unnerving emotion merely through cyberspace glances of
its ghostly reality, convinced me this place simply had to be number one.
Aokigahara Jukai is a place I
never want to visit.Others who have encountered
this forest firsthand often use the other name for it, “Kuroi Jukai,” or “Black
Sea of Trees,” to describe it, and have all returned from it with the same
impression: it is the scariest and most disturbing place on earth, and a place
they never, ever want to visit again.
Aokigahara Jukai has a history of
being associated with death and evil spirits long before it became a popular
place for suicide.Ubasute, the practice
of abandoning the elderly and infirm, was allegedly performed in Japan at least
until feudal times when harvests were poor, or drought and famine prevailed in
the land.The forest at the feet of Mt.
Fuji was one of the notable places where the practice was common.
In modern times, Aokigahara
Jukai’s infamy far outpaces its previous notoriety thanks in large part to the
book “Kanzen Jisatsu Manyuaryu” or, “The Complete Book of Suicide” by Wataru
Tsurimi.First published in 1993, the
book describes and analyzes a variety of suicide methods ranging from hanging
and overdosing to self-immolation and freezing; there is even a chapter
entitled “Miscellaneous.”Author Wataru
shows no particular preference for any one method over the other, although the
book does provide details on how painful each method is, how much planning goes
into each method, the success rate of the method, and even details about what
the condition of the body will be when it is found(according to the method
chosen).The book does not spend a lot
of time philosophizing about life or death, nor does it endorse any one method
over another, but it is possible that its descriptions of how disturbing the
sight of the suicide victim might be for family, relatives, and friends may
compel an individual intent on ending his or her life to seek out a hidden or
remote place.For this grim purpose
there is not a more hidden or remote place, indeed no place more fitting, than
the brooding, alien landscape of Aokigahara Jukai.
On average, 75 to 100 people a
year are found dead in the Black Sea of Trees; so many, in fact, that officials
stopped posting the body count in an effort to stem the site’s connection to
self-murder.Visitors to the Mount Fuji
Five Lakes area are reminded about the beauty of the natural landscape and the
other fascinating attractions of the area’s system of lakes and caves.One is only shown the way – and very
reluctantly – to Aokigahara Jukai if one asks, and locals know that the
majority of the time those asking for directions to the Sea of Trees intend
never to come out again.
A series of nature trails run
along the thinner edge of the Aokigahara Jukai, leading visitors to the nearby
Wind Cave and Ice Cave.But a sign
posted at the entry to the forest stands as a stark reminder of the forest’s
link to death.The sign says, in
Japanese:“Your life is a precious gift
from your parents.Think about them and
the rest of your family.You don’t have
to suffer alone.0550=22-0110 (Police
Station).”Even without a translation of
the sign, a visitor can feel the palpable, melancholy darkness and the deep,
pervasive sorrow drifting like a miasma from the tangled trees.It is not the place for light sightseeing,
nor for the curiosity seeker: once you pass under the canopy of Aokigahara
Jukai, you have entered the realm of the dead.
Thanks to movies like “The
Grudge” and “The Ring,” Westerners can claim some familiarity, albeit
sensationalized, with the Japanese perspective on ghosts and hauntings.The girl that climbs out of the well in “The
Ring,” disheveled, with shredded, shroud-like clothing, face obscured by a mass
of black hair is actually an image very much in keeping with Japanese
folklore.In Japan, such restless,
remorseless, vengeful spirits have long been similarly depicted in art and
literature.The Japanese call these
spirits the Yūrei, from “yū” (dim) and “rei” (soul) and describe them as ruined
spirits deprived of a peaceful afterlife because at death they did not receive
the proper funeral and burial rites.Souls of suicides are particularly vulnerable to this condition because
the manner of their death prevents the proper rites from being performed, but
also because at the moment of death the spirit of a suicide is weighed down
with the powerful emotions that plagued it in life.The yūrei continues to exist as a revenant in
the earthly sphere until the conflicts or emotions that keep it tied to the
physical plane are resolved; if this never happens, the ghost will continue
haunting indefinitely.
Yūrei are believed to haunt
Aokigahara Jukai in large numbers and are most active between the hours of two
and three a.m., the Japanese equivalent of the West’s “witching hour”; but they
can be encountered at other times of the night, and even in the daytime.The Japanese belief that these sorrowful,
angry spirits pose a particular danger to living human beings is supported in
occult tradition where such behavior is said to very often result in the
obsession and possession of sensitive or susceptible individuals.The invading spirits are believed to be
capable of inducing negative emotions in the living, and of influencing the
possessed to commit suicide in their turn.
Visitors to Aokigahara Jukai
invariably report feeling a pervading sense of misery and foreboding, a
hopeless sadness that has been known to reduce even the most reticent to
tears.Forest rangers and groups of
civilian volunteers whose unenviable job it is to go into Aokigahara Jukai and
retrieve the corpses of suicide victims, have reported hearing moans, sobbing,
wailing, and shrill, high-pitched screams breaking the unnatural silence in the
forest glades.
Beyond the well-marked, official
hiking trails are “unofficial” trails that lead off deep into Aokigahara Jukai;
these were made by the rangers and local volunteers to facilitate
corpse-gathering activities.These
secondary trails are roped off and are clearly marked by signs in Japanese and
English warning, “Do Not Enter.”Security cameras have been strategically placed near the paths not so
much to discourage interlopers as to alert police when someone who looks as if
he or she is about to commit suicide approaches the forest (although what the
“suicide look” actually looks like remains a mystery).Another sign warns, “No Camping,” because
many times in the past people have gone into Aokigahara to camp out and mull
over the decision – or build up the courage – to commit suicide.These unofficial paths are also clearly
marked with brightly colored tape so volunteers can more easily find their way
in and out: because it is also a fact that many people who have gone into
Aokigahara with no intentions of committing suicide have also died there simply
because they got lost in the vast belly of this dark, ancient sea of trees.
Entering the enormous Aokigahara
the atmosphere quickly changes.Visitors
who have returned have struggled to describe the feelings induced by the
forest: fear, despair, darkness of the soul, agony, melancholy, abject misery –
these are just some of the descriptions brought back.The negative aura is palpable, and has been
known to suppress even the most buoyant spirit; many reporting that thoughts of
the brevity of life and overwhelming despair persisted long after their visit
to Aokigahara was over.
Deep inside the forest the air is
thick and everything is green.An eerie
silence prevails and one is suddenly conscious of the profundity of that
silence – there is no birdsong, the wind blows but the leaves of the trees
never rustle, even the spongy, lichen-choked ground swallows the sound of
footsteps.Fear soon becomes the
visitor’s constant companion:fear of
getting lost, fear of seeing the remnants of a suicidal death, fear of seeing
another living person in there with you, perhaps trying to summon up the
courage to go through with the deed.Death is all around and by now the visitor just wants to get the hell
out.
Tiptoeing through this forest of
death one is inevitably going to stumble upon death sites, the last remaining
traces of those who journeyed into Aokigahara but for whom there was no journey
home – nor was there ever intended to be one.For all intents and purposes these are grave sites, but very often all
traces of a body have disappeared, removed by authorities or, more frequently
consumed by nature.Most unsettling is
the discovery at these sites of the mundane trappings of life, forever
anonymous, but speaking volumes about the person they once belonged to: empty
backpacks, an umbrella, lipstick cases, batteries, a crushed cigarette pack, a
“Hello Kitty” mirror; and, more ominously, shiny foil blister packs emptied of
pills, extra rope matching another skein tied around a branch above, hypodermic
needles.Surveying such a scene, the
last moments of that anonymous life spring suddenly to the empathetic mind;
clearly the last deed is obvious, but what preceded it, what familiar rituals
were performed for the last time before the pills were swallowed, the wrists
split open, the noose tightened around the sweating neck . . . ?
I said above that I would never
want to visit Aokigahara Jukai even if I had the opportunity to do so.Certainly, my interest in folklore, ghosts,
and hauntings makes the forest an attractive subject, but this in itself is
almost embarrassing to admit: simply put, no matter what my interests, there is
nothing at all attractive about an open grave.Aokigahara Jukai is just such a thing – an open grave.Under the choking canopy of tangled vines and
thick tree branches is, essentially, a mass grave where the dead lay atop the
ground to decompose, to be disturbed by scavenger animals, to deteriorate and
be rendered into ecological matter – and all in sight of the living, if the
living so choose.In addition to the
myriad emotions Aokigahara Jukai evokes in us, it also casts us – the living –
in roles with which we are not comfortable.In the end, Aokigahara Jukai is the face of death looking directly at
us, and we are left with all the guilt of a morbid voyeur, one who has been
caught out looking at things he or she cannot conceive of, things he or she
should never have to see.
Disclaimer Anyone who has visited Aokigahara
Jukai and written about it has felt the need to add a disclaimer for their
readers.This seems to mostly be fueled
by that voyeur’s guilt just mentioned, the knee-jerk reaction of being caught
in the act of looking at something horrible and being fascinated by it.Once exposed, the writer seeks to feel
obligated to distance him- or herself and the words that follow end up seeming
perfunctory and forced.They went, they
saw, and they were fascinated even by the corpses rotting in clear view, and
this, they feel overwhelmingly, is wrong.Then comes the expected disclaimer that anyone contemplating suicide
should not visit Aokigahara Jukai, should stop and think, as the forest’s signs
say, about family and loved ones, about the precious gift of life.And this last is something I am completely in
agreement with.
Life is precious and there is at
least one thing in each person’s life that makes the thought of suicide heinous
to contemplate.Even if you are someone
who feels God has somehow “tricked” you, has put those people or things into
your life because He knew you’d have to struggle and couldn’t just opt for an
easy way out.But many thousands of
people across the world stop to think about these things, and then proceed to
take their lives anyway.
So I, too, will add a
disclaimer:If you or someone you know
is contemplating or has contemplated suicide, do not hesitate to get help
immediately.It is never so bad that
death is a better option.Tell a friend,
confide in family, tell your doctor, or go to a hospital.There’s no shame in it, and this is the usual place where healing begins.If the
hauntings of Aokigahara Jukai tell us anything, it is that.
"The Perfect Place"
A short documentary film by a pair of Swedish filmmakers who enter Aokigahara Jukai as skeptics - even more than once suggesting to each other that what they were seeing were "props" - but who leave fully consumed by the moribund spell that it Japan's Suicide Forest.
How to Get There, Where to Stay .
. .
The starting point for a journey
to Aokigahara Jukai is the town of Kawaguchiko, the last stop before Mt. Fuji
and the forest.Kawaguchiko can be
reached directly by train or bus from Tokyo, a two and a half hour trip (so start out
early) that will set you back approximately ¥2600 (cash only).In July and August the buses can be crowded
with hikers and mountain climbers heading out to the trails of Mt. Fuji.
Maps of the Five Lakes area are
available at the Kawaguchiko station where personnel will be very helpful until
you mention Aokigahara Jukai.There is a
real fear among the locals about the place and they typically will try to warn
visitors to keep away from it, but will usually respond to insistence by
circling or designating the area on the map.Don’t be surprised by the looks you get: people there are consciously
looking for signs that a suicide might be imminent.At the station you will need to purchase
tickets for the bus to Lake Saiko (pronounced “psycho”) and the Lava Cave stop,
which will drop you almost at the forest entance.
There are guest houses and
hostels in the Kawaguchiko area, and referrals to these locations are easier to
come by.Don’t expect anything fancy,
but the places are described as clean and comfortable.There are restaurants and cafes in Kawaguchiko,
and convenience type stores where you can purchase miscellaneous supplies.
If You Go . . .
Paranormalists have visited and
investigated Aokigahara Jukai before with mixed results; even filmmakers not
intent on capturing anything supernatural have found evidence of it on their
film.However, even considering the
numerous physical challenges of this natural location, the one thing the
paranormal researcher or investigator should always keep prominently in mind is
the very real danger posed by the unhappy spirits of literally hundreds of
suicides that have occurred here in modern times alone.Occult tradition teaches that the spirits of
suicide victims are forced into a state similar to what is described as
purgatory: the manufactured cessation of life and the interrupted course of
development experienced by these spirits condemn them to remain in this
in-between state for what would have been the natural span of their lives.Paradoxically, then, the ultimate act of free
will – self-killing – actually locks the spirit in an unhappy, unsatisfied
state.These spirits who, for whatever
reason, were desperate enough to murder themselves, and who are now stuck in
that realization, will not hesitate to attach or obsess the living in order to
vicariously experience life again or, more dangerously, to drive the living to
a similar end.Paranormalists actively
seeking spirit contact inside the gloom of Aokigahara Jukai may very well get
much more than they ever expected.In
the end, then, it might be best to be satisfied with just knowing this place
exists, and to explore it from a distance, rather than seeking to experience it
firsthand.
Travel Blogger Punynari ventured into Aokigahara Jukai alone, on a less-than-picture-perfect day and managed to capture some of the eternal spookiness - and to scare himself as well! Here is his You Tube posting:
Images and Additional insight can be found at the following blogs:
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