Fictional

Momo: the sculpture that became a panic

added30 August 2026

The face that frightened half the world in 2018 and 2019 was never a character. It is Mother Bird, a sculpture by the Japanese artist Keisuke Aisawa of Link Factory, made in the summer of 2016 and exhibited at the Vanilla Gallery in Tokyo. In July 2018 a photograph of it was used in a YouTube video, from there it spread through messaging apps, and by 2019 it had grown into an international panic about a non-existent "challenge" supposedly pushing children towards dangerous tasks. Police forces and child-protection bodies in several countries stated publicly that no confirmed cases were found. The sculpture itself was destroyed by its maker.

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Momo Challenge hoax — Wikipedia

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Aka Manto: red paper or blue

Another inhabitant of Japanese school toilets, and the cruellest in construction. A voice from the last cubicle asks which paper you want, red or blue. Choosing red means one thing, blue another, and both are bad; refusing to answer, in most versions, does not save you either. The legend is interesting because it is built as a trap with no exit: there is no right answer, and that is the point — it is the shape of a fear of being asked something you cannot answer correctly.

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Fictional

SCP-173: the Foundation's first file

On 22 June 2007 an anonymous user posted a short text to 4chan in the form of a containment report: an object of concrete and rebar that cannot move while it is being looked at, and kills the instant you blink. The entry came with a photograph of Untitled 2004 by the Japanese artist Izumi Katō, used without asking. That single post grew into the SCP Foundation, a collaborative universe of thousands of documents written over years by thousands of people. The illustration was replaced in 2022: the artist had never given permission.

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Hanako-san of the school toilet

A girl in a red skirt who lives in the third stall of the girls' toilet on the third floor of a school. You knock three times and call her name; if she answers, it is better not to open the door. The legend has been known across Japan since the 1980s, and its power is in the domestic precision: not an abandoned mansion or a graveyard but a particular cubicle in the building where a child spends half their life. Every school has its own version of who Hanako is and why she is there.

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