Doryo-do:
Hachioji's Cursed Temple Site

Doryo-do (道了堂), which can be read as ‘End of the Road Temple’, is the site of a temple established in 1874 with a tragic history. It was once a stopping point for weary travellers, as it sat on the road between Hachioji and Yokohama. The name seems quite appropriate for someone coming to rest there after a long journey.

However, its name takes on a much darker meaning when you consider Doryo-do’s more recent history. In 1963, a robber murdered the elderly caretaker, which caused the closure of the temple. During 1973, the body of a murdered college student was discovered dumped on the temple grounds – the unnamed girl’s killer, a professor rumoured to be having an affair with her resulting in pregnancy, also annihilated his family before taking his own life. Finally, in 1983, an arsonist burned the temple down, leaving only the stone foundations. I wanted to visit Doryo-do because there are a lot of ghost stories surrounding it, including reports of apparitions and disembodied crying.

Doryo-do sits upon a hill, in the woods of Otsukayama Park (大塚山公園), which is reached by climbing about eighty steps. Even though it’s surrounded by a residential area, it feels a lot more isolated. The stairs were a challenge but the view was worth the exertion. When we arrived, the sun was just beginning to set and everything was pink and gold.

I visited Doryo-do with my best pal Caroline (you will meet her many times in this blog as she’s my main travel buddy). We saw several people up there; it seems to be quite a popular park. There was an old man and his grandson coming back from a walk in the woods, a couple of people running up and down the stairs for exercise, and a man photographing the sunset and wildlife. It was really tranquil and we all silently nodded to each other in greeting. The whole time we were at the actual temple site, though, no one was there. I imagine people who aren’t ghouls avoid it when it’s getting dark.

I nominated myself to scout ahead as I usually do while Caroline rehydrated and took in the view. As I walked along the dirt path, I checked where the temple was on the map. It appeared to be on my left so, when I spotted a break in the trees and a small track, I figured that was where I had to go. Thus ensued a scramble up a steep incline, sometimes having to grab tufts of grass or tree roots, occasionally having to use both my hands and feet to climb like some kind of cryptid. It turns out I just like making my life more difficult, as there were stairs up to the temple further along the main path.

I hauled myself up the last part of the hill, using a tree root as leverage, and the first thing I laid eyes on was a gravestone. Brilliant. It was a small one, set away from everything else in the site, with yellow flowers laid at its base. I have no idea who or what the grave was for – this was a time before I knew any kanji – but I stopped there for a moment anyway to pay respects.

I’ve since gotten a bit better at kanji. The writing is quite stylised, but from what I can tell it says 金神 – Konjin, meaning ‘golden god’. PLEASE correct me if this is wrong!

Directly in front of me as I emerged from the trees was what’s left of the temple. The stone foundations are fenced off and I didn’t go inside. That felt inappropriate.

I felt very alone up there, and had a distinct feeling of being watched. I fully acknowledge that knowing some of the history might have influenced the way I felt there, but it was eerie nonetheless. I personally believe that places do hold energy and memories, especially if something particularly bad or violent happened there. Doryo-do felt ominous, but also sad. It was a balmy evening but I felt unusually cold.

When I’d had a cursory look around, I approached the stairs. To the left was a lovely stone path sloping down, and I decided to take that. For some reason I found myself speeding up, almost running down the slope. I felt like I was suddenly being followed and it freaked me out.

A normal person would at this point go back to their friend, to lights, to less spooky plains. I was going to, but a couple of paths caught my eye. One led deeper into the woods and I decided against going down there. Not because of ghosts, but because the light was fading fast and I didn’t want to get lost. Instead, I started walking on the other path which followed the base of the hill that Doryo-do sits on. It was fenced-in, but the path was natural and unpaved.

I love woodland paths, and was thoroughly enjoying this one until I came upon a broken section of fence. I stopped to snap a photo, took a few more steps, and then couldn’t go any further. It was like I was frozen, every single cell in my body screaming at me to turn back. It was an entirely primal lizard-brain reaction that I’ve never experienced before. Despite my curiosity about where the path led, I didn’t question the alien feeling and went back the way I came.

When I got back to Caroline, I was deliberately vague about everything I’d seen and felt up at the temple because I wanted her to experience it organically. As we walked back toward the temple stairs, I showed her the tiny path in the trees that I’d climbed up. She laughed so hard, comparing my folly to her Skyrim method of just climbing everything to explore (and sometimes breaking the map by clipping through it).

Up at the temple, we both got very quiet. Caroline walked around the site to take it all in, as I drifted aimlessly. I kept thinking about my experience on the path below. Why did my brain to flip out like that? Unprompted, Caroline said, “I feel like I’m being watched.” Vindication! We were both shivering despite it not being very cold. Whether it was our own imagination or not, the effect was the same.

Caroline was unnerved by how dark the clumps of trees were getting so she switched on the torch. Somehow the focused torch light made the place more ominous. She pointed the beam down a hill near the back of the site, where we could see a sort of wooden structure. Wanting to know what it was, I asked her to keep the light focused there as I scrambled down the hill to see. I know, I know – I’d be the first to die in a horror film.

It turned out to be a seating area with a wooden canopy. A strange place to put a bunch of benches, but I imagine the view into the woods is nice on a summer day. Caroline cast the torch beam around so I could have a good scan of the area. I spotted a fence off to the left, behind a stand of trees. I felt like I knew what it was before I even went over there.

Sure enough, it was a tiny cemetery, fenced off with a heavy metal gate. Before I engaged my rational mind, I’d tried to pull the handle. It was locked. I’m glad because I don’t think I should have gone in there. It was a tiny standing space surrounded by graves, in the middle of the woods. I took a really quick snap of it (forgetting to put the flash on, brilliant) and scurried back up the hill to Caroline. Below is the original photo and my poor attempt at making it clearer:

There were several statues of varying sizes around the site and they all had red, knitted hats on. Some of them wore scarves too, and offerings of flowers and wine were placed at their feet. People obviously still go up to the site to care for it and the spirits that might remain.

The statues were very nice, but the setting, backstory, and darkening skies made them look incredibly creepy. I later found out that one of the statues is said to be cursed and brings death to anyone who touches it, so I’m really glad I didn’t actually touch any of them. The cursed statue is so because thieves stole its head – it has a new one now, but you can tell the stone is newer. Also, apparently the thieves drove a white car, so if you visit Doryo-do in a white car I’m sorry but… You’re cursed now.

By this time we were rapidly losing the light and neither of us wanted to be up there in the pitch dark. I already felt as though we’d hung around long enough, and didn’t want to overstay our welcome. 

We forced ourselves not to rush as we walked down the stairs away from the temple. At the base of the stairs, we stopped to look at the sign about the temple and quietly thanked any lurking spirits for letting us have a wander around. After a short bow to the stairs, we took the path back the way we’d come.

Away from the bulk of the trees, we were met with a twinkling view of Hachioji as evening drew in. It was a calming sight, and we felt much less edgy on seeing evidence of other humans. We hadn’t seen or heard any of the rumoured ghosts up at the temple, but the atmosphere up there was heavy and melancholy enough for us to have felt sufficiently scared. I couldn’t help but look back at the dark copse of trees on the hill as we descended the steps back to the quiet safety of the residential streets. We huddled at a Kōban (police box) while we waited for the bus, as if the cops could protect us from any angry ghosts that might’ve followed us.

Doryo-do was both beautifully scenic and seriously spooky – the best combination – and I loved exploring it. I hope you enjoyed coming along with us!