Hearn sets the encounter on a stifling night in the hottest part of the year. His narrator has just awakened in distress when Baku enters through the window, asking whether there is anything to eat. The man gratefully offers the dream from which he has escaped. What follows is his account to the visitor, an intimate horror enclosed within their conversation. [1]
He had been standing in a large white-walled room. Lamps burned, but he cast no shadow on the bare floor. An iron bed held a corpse—his own. He could remember neither dying nor how he had come there. Six or seven unfamiliar women sat nearby, all in black, neither conspicuously young nor old. He took them for watchers beside the dead. They were motionless; the room was silent. Then an invisible heaviness began to gather, numbing the will. The women glanced at one another. One rose and left without a sound, then another, until he was alone with his body. [1]
The lamps remained bright. Nothing prevented him from following the women, yet he delayed, believing that he still had time. Curiosity drew him towards the bed. He wanted to examine the body that was his and somehow separate from him. As he approached, it looked unnaturally long. An eyelid seemed to tremble. Perhaps the lamp-flame had only made it appear to move. He bent closer, terrified that the eyes would open, and saw the face lengthening. It seemed impossible that this was himself, and equally impossible that it could be anyone else. [1]
The eyes opened. The corpse sprang from the bed and fastened on him, moaning, gnawing and tearing. He fought with a disgust as overwhelming as his fear. Then, without knowing how it had arrived, he found an axe in his hand. He struck until the attacking body was crushed into an unrecognisable mass. The dream ended with the ruin of the self he had first stood beside and then destroyed. [1]
Having told it, the narrator repeats the appeal to Baku three times, asking the creature to devour the dream. Baku refuses. It will not eat a fortunate dream, and this, it declares, is exceptionally fortunate. The axe represents the Buddhist Law; the destroyed body is the monstrous Self. Baku announces its faith in the Buddha’s teaching, then goes back out through the window. The narrator watches it crossing miles of moonlit roofs in astonishingly quiet leaps, like a large cat. He has received an explanation, but the dream he wanted removed remains his.
Manuscript checked 2026-10-11. Artistic interpretations © Scott Schubr / Luminary Oddities.