The legend of the "Slit-Mouthed Woman," known in Japan as Kuchisake-onna, started as a creepy story whispered around Japanese schoolyards in the late 1970s. What began as just another scary tale among kids quickly turned into a full-blown nationwide phenomenon, with the story becoming so widespread that parents, teachers, and even the police got involved. As kids grew increasingly terrified, Kuchisake-onna became more than a ghost story—it was a cultural obsession. Some schools were forced to take extreme measures, closing temporarily or hiring patrols to reassure frightened students and their parents.
So, what's the story of Kuchisake-onna? Imagine a woman who could have been beautiful once, but now wears a mask and has a mouth slit from ear to ear, her face twisted into a horrible, unnatural smile. Her story comes in many versions, but here's one of the most popular: supposedly, Kuchisake-onna was once a stunningly beautiful woman, but she was vain to the point of arrogance. Her husband, overcome by jealousy and rage, accused her of infidelity. To punish her, he took a knife to her face and slashed her mouth open, slicing it from ear to ear. "Who will think you're beautiful now?" he mocked before abandoning her.
After the brutal attack, Kuchisake-onna vanished, but her anger and hurt didn't. Her spirit became something darker, something vengeful. She started haunting the streets, especially near schools, appearing to unsuspecting children who would be unlucky enough to meet her alone. She's always hidden behind a mask—a medical one, the kind people wear in Japan to prevent the spread of germs. Behind it, though, is her disfigured face, waiting to be revealed in the creepiest way possible.
The legend goes that Kuchisake-onna usually approaches kids, softly asking them, "Am I beautiful?" It's a simple question, and the kids usually say "yes" out of politeness or fear. But that's just where the nightmare begins. In response, she pulls off her mask to reveal her gory, stretched-out smile, her mouth cut grotesquely from ear to ear. Her teeth are jagged, and her grin stretches impossibly wide, a horrifying twist on the face she once took pride in.
At this point, Kuchisake-onna asks again, "Am I beautiful now?" And here's the trap: there's no safe way to answer her. If the kid says "no," she flies into a rage, reportedly killing them on the spot with a knife or pair of scissors. If the kid says "yes," that doesn't mean they're off the hook either. In some versions of the story, she'll drag them away to some unknown fate. In others, she simply "marks" them by giving them a smile just like hers, slicing open the sides of their mouth so that they can "share her beauty."
What makes this story even creepier is that it's a psychological trap, and there's no right answer. This twisted game of "Am I beautiful?" terrifies kids because there's no safe way to play it. Over the years, children have come up with clever tricks, hoping to outsmart her if they ever meet her face-to-face. Some say that if you respond with something confusing, like "So-so" or "You're average," it can make her pause just long enough to let you escape. Another popular method was to carry candies and throw them in her direction, since the legend says she might stop to pick them up, giving the would-be victim a chance to get away.
The fear of Kuchisake-onna grew so intense in the 1970s that it affected daily routines for families across Japan. Parents became paranoid, walking their kids to and from school, and some towns even arranged neighborhood patrols to keep an eye out for any strange women in masks. It was as if people genuinely believed she was real, that she could actually appear on any given street to ask that horrifying question.
But this story doesn't stop there. There's another version of Kuchisake-onna that's even more sinister: some say that she wasn't one woman but three sisters, each with a disfigured face. According to this legend, the eldest sister had her mouth slit during a botched cosmetic surgery; the middle sister suffered facial injuries in a car accident; and the youngest sister, mentally broken by her own suffering, cut her own mouth in an act of despair. United by their shared suffering, these three sisters became vengeful spirits, haunting lonely roads and schoolyards together. Imagine the terror of running into not just one, but three Kuchisake-onna spirits, all asking the same haunting question in unison.
Descriptions of Kuchisake-onna have become iconic: she's often dressed in red, her face hidden behind a mask, with long, black hair cascading over her shoulders. In some stories, her movements are almost inhumanly fast. Kids claim she can cover 100 meters in just three seconds—impossible for a human but terrifyingly fitting for a ghostly figure. This supernatural speed adds a layer of hopelessness to the tale; even if you run, she can easily catch up to you. There's no outrunning her if she decides she wants you as her next victim.
The last feature is that because the beautician applies thick hair spray, the split woman is very afraid of this hair spray. And then at this point, when you see the split girl, you just say hairspray, hairspray, three times like that, and the split girl will run away. She also has something she likes, and there are often people among this primary school student at that time.
Sneak this candy in your pocket and take it to school. And if you meet this ripper, give her her favorite black candy, remember it's black candy, uh, and the original lollipop and he'll be happy. And then he took the opportunity to slip away,
As the years passed and the legend spread, Kuchisake-onna became a symbol of fear for generations of Japanese children. People swapped new versions of her story, adding strange details and supposed "rules" for avoiding her wrath. In rural areas, teachers began to walk kids home, and in cities, some schools arranged for police officers to patrol nearby streets. Some towns even set up designated "safety zones" marked with signs, so that kids could feel a little safer walking home from school.
But even with all these precautions, the fear of Kuchisake-onna didn't fully go away. Kids continued to pass on the story, and Kuchisake-onna became a part of Japanese folklore, an urban legend with roots in deeply felt cultural fears. She became a ghost that everyone knew about but no one wanted to see—a legend lurking just beneath the surface of everyday life, always ready to reappear.
Over time, some parts of the story evolved and modernized. People began seeing Kuchisake-onna in places they never expected, like busy subway stations or crowded streets. The idea of a slit-mouthed spirit waiting around a dark alley was unsettling enough, but to think she might approach you in broad daylight in the middle of a crowded area brought a whole new level of fear. There were even sightings reported in places outside Japan, as people shared the story online, creating a worldwide audience for the Kuchisake-onna legend.
Interestingly, as her legend grew, so did the theories about how to protect yourself if you ever encountered her. A few kids came up with the idea of saying, "I'm busy right now," or pretending to check their phone if she asked, hoping the unexpected response would throw her off. Others suggested carrying charms or wearing red clothing to somehow "ward her off," though there's no part of the original legend that actually suggests these methods would work. The fear was so intense that children were willing to try anything to feel safe, and the list of supposed tricks continued to grow.
Some people saw Kuchisake-onna as more than just a ghost story. In Japan, where social pressures and expectations about appearance are strong, some people thought the story was a cautionary tale about vanity and beauty standards. A beautiful woman, obsessed with her looks, ultimately punished by her own fixation on appearance—it was a dark message about the costs of vanity. Others saw it as a way to talk about the repressed anger and frustration that can come from feeling trapped in societal roles, as Kuchisake-onna was often depicted as a wife mistreated by her husband, a figure pushed to revenge by the cruelty of the world around her.
Whether she's seen as a spirit of vengeance, a cautionary figure, or simply a scary story, Kuchisake-onna has left a lasting impact on Japanese culture. To this day, her image—long black hair, a red coat, and a mask hiding that terrible smile—remains burned into the imaginations of those who grew up with her story. Parents tell the tale with a mix of amusement and nostalgia, remembering the terror it inspired in them as children, while new generations continue to discover the story, adding their own details and twists as the legend lives on.