The story of Kisaragi Station is one of Japan's strangest and most famous urban legends, starting as an internet horror story on the forum 2chan and growing into something that fascinates people even today. It all began in February 2004, when a user going by the name Hasumi shared an experience so eerie that it took on a life of its own, leaving readers wondering what was real and what was pure nightmare. Hasumi's posts unfolded in real-time, and the story just got stranger and stranger with each update, drawing people into a journey that felt like something out of a ghost story, only darker.
It was a late night, just after midnight, when Hasumi posted on the forum. He was riding a train home after a long day and noticed something strange—his usual route was taking way longer than it should. Typically, he'd be home within twenty minutes, but this time, the train kept going, passing familiar stops and continuing into unknown territory. Hasumi's curiosity turned to worry, and he reached out to the forum for advice, posting: "The train hasn't stopped for a while. I don't recognize these stations. Has this ever happened to anyone?"
People on the forum started replying with casual suggestions at first. Some told him he was probably just on the wrong train. But as he explained that he had taken this route countless times, others began throwing out jokes about haunted trains and time slips. Hasumi laughed it off, but his anxiety was building. No one on the train noticed anything odd, only making him feel more isolated. And then he realized something that made his skin crawl: he was the only one left on the train. Everyone else had either gotten off or disappeared, leaving him alone in the empty car.
Hasumi posted again, this time with a tone of genuine worry. "I'm alone. No one else is here, and the conductor isn't responding. The train should have stopped ages ago." The forum blew up with replies. People were now both freaked out and fascinated. A few suggested he try to find the conductor, while others encouraged him to get off at the next station, no matter where it was. But when Hasumi looked out the window, he saw only darkness stretching on forever, broken only by faint, empty platforms that looked abandoned.
Finally, after an eternity, the train slowed and stopped at a station. Hasumi, relieved and desperate for answers, stepped off the train. But his relief didn't last long. The sign on the platform read "Kisaragi Station," a name that immediately struck him as strange. He'd never heard of a Kisaragi Station before, and neither had anyone on the forum. When he tried looking it up on his phone, nothing came up. It was like the station didn't exist.
The platform was deserted, dimly lit by a single flickering light that cast long, eerie shadows. Hasumi started to get that prickling feeling at the back of his neck, the sense that something was very wrong. He posted again, describing the empty platform and asking if anyone knew where Kisaragi Station was. The replies were mixed—some users told him to leave immediately and walk along the tracks, while others joked that he'd stumbled into a ghost station. But it was clear that people were genuinely spooked, with more severe users pleading with him to escape the station as fast as he could.
Hesitant but running out of options, Hasumi decided to leave the platform. As he started walking down the tracks, he kept posting updates, hoping that someone would explain the weirdness of it all. The air was cold and unnaturally still, and the only sounds were his footsteps and the soft crunch of gravel beneath his feet. As he walked, he heard faint noises in the distance—a rhythmic drumming and what sounded like bells echoing faintly in the night.
He posted about the noises, describing them as unsettling and hard to pinpoint. They seemed to be coming from around him and grew louder as he moved. Suddenly, he noticed a figure in the distance—a lone, older woman standing by the side of the tracks. The sight of her made Hasumi's blood run cold. She looked like she belonged to another time, her clothing worn and old-fashioned. As she moved toward him, he froze, unsure what to do.
The forum was in a frenzy by now. Users were typing in all caps, urging him to turn around, run, and not engage with her. Hasumi took their advice, backing away slowly, his heart pounding. He started to walk faster, moving away from the station and deeper into the darkness. But the further he walked, the less familiar everything seemed. It was as if the world around him was changing, becoming more lonely and alien.
Hours went by as he walked, his posts getting fewer but more desperate. He shared that his phone battery was running low, and he still hadn't seen any signs of life. Every time he thought he heard something, he'd look over his shoulder only to see nothing but darkness stretching endlessly behind him.
Then, just when he was ready to collapse from exhaustion, a pair of headlights appeared in the distance—a car coming slowly down the tracks. Hasumi felt relieved and waved frantically, hoping the driver would stop. The car rolled up beside him, and the driver, a middle-aged man, gestured for him to get in. Hasumi posted to let everyone know he'd found help, and then he climbed into the backseat, too tired and cold to question anything further.
But as they drove, the atmosphere in the car shifted. The driver didn't speak, and something about the route felt off. Hasumi noticed they weren't heading toward any recognizable area but were moving up a winding mountain road. His nerves returned, more vital than ever. He posted one last time, saying, "The driver isn't talking, and we're heading up a mountain. I'm scared. I think I'll try to get out of the car."
And that was the last anyone ever heard from Hasumi. His posts stopped, and despite forum users frantically trying to reach him or get answers, there was nothing. It was as if he'd vanished. In the days following, people on the forum speculated wildly. Some were convinced he'd been transported to another dimension, trapped in a ghostly version of Japan where Kisaragi Station existed. Others thought it was a prank or an elaborate hoax, though no one came forward to confirm it.
But Hasumi's story didn't just fade away. Years later, others came forward with tales of encountering strange, unfamiliar stations late at night. One woman even posted about a place she claimed was Kisaragi Station. She described getting off a train at a station with an unfamiliar name, stepping onto an empty platform in the dead of night, and feeling a bone-chilling sense that something wasn't right. When she tried to take a picture, her phone wouldn't work, and her surroundings seemed to shift and blur. Like Hasumi, she was also approached by a silent stranger—a man this time, dressed in a dark suit. He gestured for her to follow, but she bolted, escaping down the tracks until she found herself back in a familiar part of the city.
These stories kept Kisaragi Station alive in people's imaginations. Over time, it became more than just a ghost story. It grew into a full-fledged urban legend that blurred the line between reality and fiction, a place you could accidentally end up if you were unlucky. To this day, the story of Kisaragi Station is told and retold on forums, chat rooms, and creepypasta communities worldwide. People have adapted it into plays, comics, and horror games, each adding something new to the legend.
For those who dare to believe, Kisaragi Station is a ghostly anomaly in the Japanese rail system—a place outside standard time and space. Some say it's a doorway to another dimension, while others think it's a limbo for lost souls. There are even theories that Kisaragi Station is a punishment for those who have somehow crossed into a realm where they don't belong.
As Hasumi's story continues circulating, people remain captivated by the idea of a place you can accidentally find yourself in, where reality twists and logic doesn't apply. And even though Kisaragi Station doesn't appear on any map, some late-night commuters can't help but wonder, as they stare out the train windows into the darkness, what they'd do if their train suddenly stopped somewhere they didn't recognize—somewhere that shouldn't exist. Would they stay on the train, hoping it would continue, or would they step off, risking a walk down empty tracks, uncertain where they'd end up?
For anyone who's heard the legend, Kisaragi Station is more than a ghost story; it's a haunting reminder of how thin the boundary between our world and the unknown can sometimes feel. So, if you're ever on a late train in Japan, and it stops at a station with a name you've never heard before, maybe think twice before you get off. After all, once you step onto the platform, there's no telling if you'll find your way back.