【怖い話】「配達員」「マンホール」「案内」「サワシロチ」【怪談/朗読つめあわせ】

【怖い話】「配達員」「マンホール」「案内」「サワシロチ」【怪談/朗読つめあわせ】

Story 1: “The Delivery Man” This happened a few years ago. I used to shop online a lot. The person who delivered my packages was always the same man from a major shipping company. At first, he would just hand over the package in silence. But after seeing him a few times, he gradually started making small talk with me. (Delivery Man) “It’s hot again today, isn’t it?” (Delivery Man) “It’s raining today, so” (Delivery Man) “I was worried your package would get wet.” (Delivery Man) “But I managed to shield it with my body” (Delivery Man) “and bring it to you!” I wasn’t a fan of his overly familiar tone. I would always just give noncommittal replies like, “Ah…” “I see,” “Right.” That’s all I would say. Eventually, even that became a hassle, so I changed my delivery settings to “leave at door.” I didn’t have to see him anymore. And yet, he always rang the doorbell. On the other side of the screen, he would say with a smile, (Delivery Man) “Oh? I wonder if they’re not home?” And he would always ring it at the exact moment I got home from work. He would ring it. While I had specified the delivery date, I hadn’t specified a time. And since I had set it to “leave at door,” he should have just left the package at my doorstep. I finally reached my limit. I filed a complaint with the shipping company. (Me) “The behavior of your delivery man, O, is making me uncomfortable.” After that, the doorbell stopped ringing. But the real horror began from there. I started to constantly feel someone’s gaze on my back. It was the same no matter where I was. When I was at my computer at work. When I was eating lunch in the company cafeteria. On a crowded train. And on the street at night on my way home. Someone was always right behind me, piercing me with their gaze. Even when I turned around, there was no one there. But the gaze would just cling to my back, like something sticky. Then one day, a letter was slipped into my apartment’s mail slot. The sender was that delivery man, O. (Letter) “Actually, I fell in love with you at first sight.” (Letter) “I wanted to tell you how I feel,” (Letter) “so I wrote this letter.” (Letter) “You’re so cute. I just can’t get enough of you.” (Letter) “I think about you every day.” (Letter) “Please marry me.” (Letter) “No, marriage is too soon, lol.” (Letter) “Please, let’s start as friends.” The letter included his full name and his LINE ID. I immediately filed a second complaint with the shipping company. (Shipping Company) “We will take appropriate action.” The person on the phone said that and apologized repeatedly. For the next month, nothing happened. There was no contact from that man, and I was slowly getting my life back to normal. But the feeling of being watched from behind never went away. I started to think about moving. The fact that that man knew my current address, that was the most terrifying thing of all. I also consulted the police, but all they said was, “We’ll increase our patrols.” And then, the other day. A reunion for my university club was held at an izakaya in the city. Drinking with friends I hadn’t seen in a long time, I might have gotten a little carried away. To my friends sitting nearby, I told them about the love letter incident. “Whoa, seriously!?” “The fact that he wouldn’t just leave the package, that’s messed up.” My friends were laughing about it, when it happened. My vision suddenly grew dim. The bright lights of the izakaya suddenly faded, and the surrounding noise grew distant. Was I extremely dizzy? Had I had too much to drink? Just as I was thinking that and rubbed my eyes… …in a dim booth in the corner of the room, that delivery man, O, was sitting there. He was wearing his delivery uniform, and there was nothing on the table in front of him. He was just staring at me. His skin had no trace of life in it. His eyes were wide open, but they were cloudy and unfocused. His mouth was hanging open slackly, and a single thread of something like drool was slowly trickling down. He was just sitting there like a doll, staring only at me. (Friend) “Hey, what’s wrong?” My friend’s voice snapped me back to reality. When I looked over there again, there was no one there anymore. It was just an empty booth. What was that just now? It was after that. The quality of the gaze I felt on my back changed. Before, it was just a clingy gaze, just “watching.” But the gaze now is different. It now has a clear murderous intent and aggression. An icy blade piercing my back. I don’t know what happened to that man after that. But the “thing” I saw at the izakaya, it definitely didn’t have the aura of a living person. Maybe that man is already dead. And maybe he’s still following me. Or maybe he’s what you call a “living spirit.” I don’t know. And finally. I’m a man. This was the first time in my life I had been confessed to by someone of the same sex. But this incident, it’s not about him being a man or me being a man. His actions were just, as a human being, purely terrifying. Story 2: “The Manhole” Sometimes, I hear voices coming from the manhole. The sound of children laughing, “Ahahaha,” or a man chanting sutras in a low growl. On a deserted street, those sounds that I suddenly hear, they always come from the iron lid on the ground, from under the manhole. Strangely, the voices don’t echo at all. They’re raw and clear, as if someone is whispering directly into my ear. To be honest, I’ve had a bit of a strange power since I was young. At my elementary school sports day, right next to my parents who were filming with a video camera, a strange man was desperately trying to tell them something. When I asked my parents about it later, (Parents) “We didn’t see anyone like that.” they just laughed. In college, when I went to a haunted tunnel with a friend for fun, a woman hanging upside down from a stain on the ceiling was beckoning to me, saying, “Come here, come here.” My friend didn’t notice, and even when I asked, “Is there something here?” he would just say, (Friend) “Huh? What?” that’s what he’d say. At times like that, I would always (Me) “Oh, really? Then I must have been seeing things.” (Me) “Never mind, it was nothing.” and just go along with them. Because letting people know I have this power is just a hassle. Even now, I see ghosts in my daily life. But it’s rare that I can immediately recognize them as ghosts. They blend into human society with surprising skill. Lining up at a bus stop. Casually walking across a scramble crossing. Even if they seem a little off, it’s just a slight distortion in the shape of their head or body, that’s all. So most of the time, I only realize it later, thinking, “Ah, come to think of it, that person was a little strange.” That’s when I realize it. Some people say ghosts don’t exist, others say it’s a mental illness. From my perspective, as someone who can see them, I think that’s wrong. They are definitely there. But, maybe because I’ve lived with this power since I was a child, I’ve never really been scared of ghosts. For better or worse, I had gotten used to it. However, the voices coming from this manhole, I was honestly terrified of them, deep down in my heart. These voices, which started a few years ago, were different in quality from other spirits. There shouldn’t be a living person inside this iron hole. That fact, before I could even think, forced me to recognize, “This is a ghost.” And besides, it didn’t make any sense. Why were voices coming from a manhole? At some point, I started to avoid manholes when I walked down the street. I just couldn’t stand that raw, vivid voice. Especially recently, I’d been hearing the voice more frequently than before. And in the last few days in particular, on my way home from work, I’d had the sensation of someone whispering right in my ear. On my way home from work one day, a cold rain had been falling since the morning. I was walking my usual route, listening to the sound of the rain hitting my umbrella. Suddenly, on the wet asphalt, I saw something glinting. When I got closer, I saw that it was a Pokémon card. I didn’t know the name, but it looked like a shiny, rare card, and it was even in a protective sleeve. It must be important to someone. (Me) *I should probably leave it somewhere easy to spot.* I thought, and bent down to pick up the card. Someone must have just dropped it, because it wasn’t completely wet yet. Just then, I saw something black out of the corner of my eye. On the rain-soaked asphalt, long black hair was plastered to the ground. (Me) *Whoa, what is this…?* A chill ran down my spine. I strained my eyes, followed the roots of the hair, and slowly raised my gaze. There she was. A woman in her thirties, dressed in ordinary clothes, was lying on her back in a spread-eagle position. (Me) *Is this… a person…?* (Me) *Or… a ghost…?* An accident? Should I call out to her? My thoughts were racing, and I couldn’t move. As I hesitated, the woman’s mouth moved slightly. (Woman) *Heh heh…* I heard a chuckle. A small voice, almost drowned out by the rain. But it quickly turned into a loud, crazed voice. (Woman) “Haha, hahahaha, AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” A high-pitched laugh echoed through the rainy alley. I instinctively looked around. There were a few passersby with umbrellas. But not a single one of them paid any attention to this bizarre scene. As if the woman wasn’t even there, everyone was just calmly walking by. It was a ghost. The moment I realized that, the woman’s body started to move unnaturally. *Scrape… scrape…* As if someone had grabbed her by the ankles, still on her back, she started to be dragged across the asphalt. (Woman) “AHAHAHA! HEE HEE! AHAHAHAHAHA!” The woman was still laughing. In time with that gruesome laughter, her body jerked back and forth. *CRACK* With a dull sound, one of her arms twisted into an impossible angle. Her exposed back scraped against the asphalt, making a faint sizzling sound like meat on a grill, and a foul, raw smell mixed with the rain. Her fingertips caught on the ground, and her nails were torn from their roots, leaving red streaks. And still, the woman was laughing. Her eyes were wide with terror, but her mouth was split wide like a crescent moon, continuously spitting out a crazed laugh. And where her body was being dragged, there was a tightly sealed manhole. And then, an unbelievable sight unfolded before my eyes. The woman’s body contorted, and as if it were sinking into the sealed manhole cover, it was sucked in. There was no sound of bones breaking, or flesh being crushed. Just like a liquid flowing into a narrow gap, the human form passed through the iron lid, and disappeared into the darkness. The last thing to remain was her face, staring at me with wide eyes and a split mouth, and with a crazed smile, it made a light *pop* sound and completely vanished. As I stood there stunned, a voice reached me from under the manhole. (Woman) “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!” And then, a scream filled with a hatred I had never heard before. (Woman) “I’LL KILL YOU!!!!!!” I forgot to even scream, dropped the Pokémon card I was holding, and ran away from that place as fast as I could. What in the world was that? Under the manhole should just be a sewer. Were the voices I usually heard, the voices of spirits like that woman? Why were they being drawn under the manhole? I have no way of knowing. Even now, I still hear voices coming from manholes from time to time. Even if I hurry to cover my ears, it’s no use. The voices are not a physical sound. They pass through my hands, my skull, and echo directly in my brain, which is incredibly troublesome. Just below the ground we live on and walk on every day without a second thought, perhaps there’s a world we don’t know, a world where some kind of gruesome things gather, stretching out just beneath our feet. Story 3: “The Guide” When I was in the second year of middle school, I went to a cram school. It was a good school that took care of both high-achieving students and underachieving students like me. The teachers were all kind people. The school was divided into classes from A to D. Of course, I was in the lowest class, D. The D-class classroom was in the building where the cram school was located, on the third floor, at the very end of the hall. My favorite seat was by the window, and I often sat there. I liked to gaze out the window at the bustling street in front of the station. That day, too, I went to cram school as usual after school. It was during English class. While the teacher was enthusiastically explaining idioms at the front of the class, I casually looked away from the blackboard and out the window. And a strange sight caught my eye. On the crowded sidewalk, a single person in the middle of it was repeating a series of bizarre movements. I couldn’t tell their gender. They had short hair and a slender build. They were dressed all in black. Their movements were like a dance. But it didn’t fit into any genre. One moment they would spread their arms like a bird’s wings, the next they would fall to the ground and writhe like a caterpillar. Then they would spring back up, and as if they had no joints, their body would ripple like a wave. Ignoring the hurried movements of the people around them, only that person was moving freely with emotion. Their movements were eerie. But for some reason, I was captivated by the sight. The people around them showed no reaction at all. As if they couldn’t see them. As if only that person and I existed in the world. That’s what it felt like. But someone broke the silence. A man was pushing his way through the crowd, walking straight towards the dancing person. Were they an acquaintance? Just as I was staring at the scene, (Teacher) “Hey, [My Name].” (Teacher) “Hey! Answer me!” I heard someone call my name. I looked towards the front of the class, and the English teacher was looking at me with an exasperated expression. (Teacher) “[My Name]! You finally noticed!” (Teacher) “Read page thirty of the textbook.” (Teacher) “Stop spacing out.” The class broke out in giggles. My face turned bright red, (Me) “Ah… I’m sorry!” and I hurriedly started to read the textbook. After I finished reading, I looked out the window again. But the dancing person was no longer there. Instead, the man who had been walking towards them was lying collapsed in the middle of the sidewalk. The street was in an uproar, and people were gathering around him. After class, when I left the cram school building, there was still a crowd gathered in that area. The sound of an ambulance siren echoed. A week later. I was walking to cram school after school. And in the crowd, I saw that person again. Today, too, they were dressed all in black in the middle of the street, repeating those strange movements. Even up close, I couldn’t tell their gender. They had an androgynous, beautiful face. I was walking, mesmerized by their movements. I realized that I had walked right past the entrance to the cram school. It felt like my feet were moving on their own, as if I were sleepwalking. (Me) *Huh? My feet won’t stop.* My feet were moving against my will. I was being drawn towards the dancing person. (Me) *Huh? Huh!?* I touched my legs with my hands. But they wouldn’t stop. And just like that, I ended up right in front of the person. Then, the person stopped moving and took my hand. Their hand was as cold as ice. My vision started to go dark. I was being sucked into a deep darkness. The feeling of the ground beneath my feet disappeared, and all that was left was the strange sensation of standing in mid-air. When I came to, I was standing in darkness. And I was surrounded by a large group of people. Men and women, young and old. They all had blank expressions and were repeating the same movement. *Clap!… Clap!* They were clapping their hands. Only the dry sound of it echoed in the darkness. I was just staring at the scene, when… …an old man suddenly appeared in front of me. It was my beloved grandfather. My grandfather, who was supposed to have passed away a few years ago, was standing there, staring at me. And he quietly opened his mouth. (Grandfather) “Go back.” (Grandfather) “You should be able to move your feet now. It’s not too late.” My grandfather said this, grabbed my shoulders, and turned me around. I saw a sliver of light in the darkness. It was the familiar scenery of the street. But the light was gradually closing. Getting smaller. (Grandfather) “Now. Go.” My grandfather gave me a hard push on the back. I ran. And I jumped into that light. When I came to, I was standing in the middle of the street. I looked behind me. But the dancing person, and my grandfather, were nowhere to be seen. I looked at the clock on my phone, and it was already 11 PM. When I went to the cram school, the teachers were still there. (Teacher) “What happened, [My Name]? You didn’t come today.” (Teacher) “Class is already over.” Seeing the familiar faces of my teachers, I felt a sense of relief, and for some reason, I started to cry uncontrollably. That day, my mother came to pick me up by car. I couldn’t tell my mother, who had bought me a meat bun from the convenience store, anything about what had happened. But… (Mother) “What’s wrong? What happened? Are you okay?” she was worried about me. After that, I successfully got into my first-choice high school, and I became a high school student. And then I went to university, got a job, and now I’m a full-time housewife, raising three children. The events of that day were far in the distant past. My daughter, who is in elementary school, came to me and said, (Daughter) “You know, Y-chan,” (Daughter) “she said she’s been seeing a strange person recently.” (Daughter) “A person in black, who moves all wobbly.” (Daughter) “She said it was scary.” In that moment, I remembered the events of that day, which I had kept locked away. Everything I had experienced. I think that darkness was surely the afterlife. And that person in black was a guide, leading people to the afterlife. I was surely just one step away, and my grandfather saved me. If my grandfather hadn’t appeared then, I might have died. I told my daughter, (Me) “Listen, with Y-chan,” (Me) “it might be better not to get too close.” (Me) “Something bad might happen.” That’s all I could say. Because that guide, even now, somewhere in this town, is luring the next person. And this time, there might be no one to come and save them. That’s what I can’t help but think. Story 4: “Sawashirochi” This is a story from when I was still in elementary school. We had a Super Famicom at home, and I was obsessed with the RPGs that were popular at the time. I would come home from school, toss my backpack aside, and be glued to the TV every day. That day, too, I turned on the game as usual. The title screen appeared, and I selected “Continue.” But when I saw the save data screen that appeared, I tilted my head in confusion. You could save up to three files. The first one was, of course, my data. I had even named the main character after myself. But the second save slot. There was a save file there that I didn’t recognize at all. The main character’s name was “Sawashirochi.” It was a string of characters that made no sense. Was it a prank by someone? When I checked the data, it seemed like the adventure had just begun. They were just grinding for levels around the first town in the story. Rather than being creepy, I was a little annoyed. Someone other than me was playing my game without my permission. But more than that, I just wanted to play. I decided to let it go, selected my own data, and resumed my adventure. Several months passed. My adventure was finally reaching its final stages. And I had noticed. That mysterious save file, “Sawashirochi,” was also progressing, albeit slowly. On the save data selection screen, the game’s progress and playtime are recorded. Sawashirochi’s data, which was initially “Starting Village – 0 hours 30 minutes,” had changed to “Second Town – 5 hours” when I wasn’t looking. While I was grinding to prepare for the final boss battle, Sawashirochi was still just getting to the second town. just getting to the second town. At its slow progress, I started to feel a strange sort of affection for it. One Saturday, school was only for the morning, so I came home earlier than usual that day. Usually on Saturday afternoons, I would go straight from school to play with my friends until it got dark, but that day, I really wanted to see the ending of that RPG. I figured I could finish it that day if I tried. My parents both worked, and weren’t home yet. I was home alone. I rushed home, opened the living room door, and for the first time, I saw him. A kid, sitting on the floor in front of the TV, intently playing a game. He looked to be about my age. He was a strange boy in unfamiliar clothes. What was he doing here? As I stood there stunned, the boy noticed me, and slowly turned to face me. He looked like a perfectly ordinary boy. Tanned skin. Slightly wavy hair. The boy looked at me in surprise, his eyes widening. His expression looked somewhat apologetic. And the next moment, his body dissolved like TV static and disappeared without a trace. *Clatter.* Only the controller was left on the floor. Since then, the progress on the “Sawashirochi” save file has been stuck at the second town. And that boy never appeared before me again. I hesitate to say this, but he was probably a ghost. While I was busy with school and playing with friends, he was always here at home, alone, playing my RPG. When I came home, he would pause his adventure, and hand the controller over to me. That mysterious main character name, “Sawashirochi.” I wonder what language that was. A language used by ghosts? There’s one thing I regret a little. That I surprised him and scared him away. It would have been fine if he had kept playing. After I saw the ending, we could have even played together from the beginning. When I think about that, my heart aches a little, and I can’t help but think, “So ghosts play video games too.” That’s what I think about. That second save file, which has been untouched since that day, I still can’t bring myself to delete it. The ghost stories I’ve heard from all of you have been turned into a horror manga. Please enjoy the world of true ghost stories that could happen to anyone. And now, there’s an event where your ghost story could be turned into a book or a narrated video. We’re holding them all over the country. It’s a fun gathering where we share ghost stories in small groups, and participation is free. Attendees will receive a special keychain and an autographed business card as a gift. In October, we’ll be near Takasaki Station in Gunma, and in November, we’ll be near Shizuoka Station in Shizuoka. Please apply using the form in the description box. Alright, hey everyone, good evening. It’s Gomadango. This time, I’ve read four scary stories for you. I record the narration and this commentary section separately, so there might be a difference in my energy level. I’m recording this right after waking up, but… …anyway, let’s put that aside. The first story was about the delivery man. I wonder what that was all about. Being confessed to by someone of the same sex, regardless of gender, scary things are scary. The delivery man’s actions, you know? Personally, for a long time, I’ve always thought that sort of romance is perfectly fine. I myself am attracted to women, but… …who falls in love with whom, or who has feelings for whom, I think that’s all fine. But there’s nothing more annoying than affection from someone you’re not interested in. You can’t help but think that, right? Plus, this story was about affection from a delivery man, so there’s the fact that they know your personal information. Where you live, your address, of course, they know that. Your phone number, they probably know that too. That’s what’s scary. The reality of it is what’s scary. I wondered if things like this actually happen much in the real world, and when I looked it up, it seems they do. So, what I saw was, an Uber delivery man… a man. And he fell in love at first sight with the woman he was delivering to. He fell for her, and then handed her a love letter. I don’t know, but… you have to wonder if that ever works out, right? For some people, maybe they’d think, “Wow, he feels that strongly about me.” “Maybe I should give his feelings a chance.” Maybe that happens sometimes. But for most people, I think it would just be pure terror. Yeah. I shouldn’t laugh, but… it’s just scary. Regardless of gender, it’s scary. So, I have an X account, but I haven’t been logging in at all. I haven’t been logging in. And I opened it for the first time in a while, and for this video, I looked up if things like this happen, and they do. People post things like, “I received a letter like this,” and expose them. I thought that was a little sad, though. I don’t know. X used to be fun, back when it was Twitter. Yeah, how do I put it? But now, I don’t really feel that way. It used to be that you’d only see information from the people you followed, right? But now, you see tweets from people you don’t follow, and it’s just tiring to look at. And you see things that are blowing up, or people getting attacked… on Twitter. It’s just tiring. So I haven’t been logging in at all recently, but I logged in for the first time in a while to research, and it seems like this kind of thing happens a lot. So stories like this must be pretty common. At first, I just searched on Google, and found an article about something like this happening, and it had a quote from a tweet. I logged into X to see that tweet, but… The courage of someone who acts on the belief that they have a “one in a million chance” is amazing, but… …for the person who doesn’t feel that “one in a million chance,” it’s just a nuisance. I know I’m saying this like I’m all high and mighty, but it’s just my personal opinion. The feeling of falling for someone is a wonderful thing, but… …his actions were a little out of line, weren’t they? And the overly familiar attitude probably wasn’t good either. I’m just giving my pretty straightforward, objective opinion. Alright, so, there was also the story “The Manhole.” Yeah, this one was scary too. A different kind of scary from the first story. This man has had psychic abilities since he was young, and he’s seen things, but… …the manhole incident as an adult was the scariest for him. At the end, the woman gets sucked into the manhole. The *pop* sound. That scene reminded me of the first *Jumanji* movie. At the end of *Jumanji*, there’s a scene where a face goes *pop*. Do you guys know the movie *Jumanji*? It’s a pretty famous movie. It’s a board game movie, where you roll the dice and all sorts of things happen. The main character gets transported to a jungle somewhere. And there… was it there? I think so. A hunter… a hunter with a gun appears. And he chases them. The hunter relentlessly chases them to the very end. And when you finally finish *Jumanji*, you roll the dice and reach the end, the game goes “whoosh” and sucks in everything that happened in *Jumanji*. Elephants, other animals, monkeys… the hunter too, it sucks in everything that came out of *Jumanji*. The game closes, but at the very end, the hunter’s face pops out, and he screams as he goes *pop*, and the *Jumanji* board slams shut. There’s a scene like that. It reminded me of that. I don’t know what I’m explaining, but… I want to watch that movie again. I saw it a long time ago on TV, but it was good. I’ve always liked board games. The *Jumanji* movie is also about a board game, a cursed board game, so it was really fun. I want to start something like a board game club. And have about 10 people gather each time and play something. Anyway, I haven’t said anything about the second story, but… …so yeah, all of the stories this time were really interesting to read. Thank you for letting me read them. In the description of this video, this coming November in Shizuoka, I’m holding a “Gomadango 100 Ghost Stories” event where we all have fun and tell ghost stories. The details and the application form URL are posted there, so please check it out. I’m also on Instagram and TikTok. The URLs for those are also posted. I think that’s about it. So, with that, I’ll see you all
in the next story. This was Gomadango. Good night.

🕯️【ごまだんご百物語】のご応募はこちら🕯️
https://forms.gle/YPVTnw2YyzvpZc897

【ごまだんご百物語】とは…
実話怪談をみんなで楽しく話す会です。
聞いた怪談は動画になったり、本になったりします。

■静岡県会場(静岡駅周辺 予定)
日付：11月9日(日) ・11月10日(月)

◾️場所：レンタルスペース
◾️時間：２日間で３部やります。好きな時間を選んで下さい。　

【日曜】
１部　12時〜15時
２部　17時〜20時

【月曜】
３部　12時〜15時

◾️各部の定員 ５人前後　※抽選になります。
◾️参加費無料

お問い合わせ: gomadangohd@gmail.com

★怪談を１組１話以上、必ずお話しください。

★１人で来て話すのが気まずい人は、
お友達やご家族と来ていただいてOKです。
　その場合も１組につき、１話は怪談話をおねがいします。

★小説のように完成したお話を持って来て頂く必要は一切ありません。
　雑談みたいにゆるく怪談話を伺えたらと思っています。

★締め切ったら追加募集はないので、
早めに応募されたほうが参加しやすいです🙇
＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝

📸instagram
https://www.instagram.com/gomadangohd/?utm_medium=copy_lin

🎬TikTok

@gomadangohdkun820

＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝

視聴者の実話怪談をホラー漫画化！
「眞霊 ほんとに沼る実話怪談」（KADOKAWA）
https://x.gd/8mzye

＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝

★お話募集フォーム
https://forms.gle/MA459p6xHJrveiQm7

＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝

◾️おしながき

0:00 配達員
11:25 マンホール
26:04 案内人
41:15 サワシロチ

＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝＝

#配達員
#マンホール
#怖い話