Creepy Japanese Ghost Woman

There is a TV in the upper corner of the room. It's been showing static for the past three days, and your immobility prevents you from changing it back to a channel that works. You can't talk, so you can't even beg the workers to change it. You just have to make due with the white noise and the patterns of snow on the screen, because you can't even turn your head away You're stuck sitting in your wheelchair, watching the door and the little TV.

Today, however, there seems to be something in the static. Your eyes are drawn to it, and you can faintly see an outline in the televised snow. As if... As if there is the shape of person.

Slowly, the outline becomes thicker, clearer, well-defined. It's definitely someone. It looks like a woman, wearing a long white dress, with long black hair that goes down to her waist. And she's getting bigger, as if she was walking towards the TV screen.

She keeps getting closer, until only her head appears into the small screen. The next moment, the screen seems to bend outward. She's coming out of the fucking TV.

Long black hair spills out of the screen, hanging towards the ground. One thin arm pierces the static and joins her head into the real world, grabbing onto the ceiling to pull herself out. A second arm, and she soon brings her torso out. Her breasts come into view, and the protruding nipples make it clear she's not wearing a bra under that old stained dress.

Her movement are unnatural, as if she has more joints that any human is supposed to have, or her limbs have been broken in places.

Eventually, she's fully out of the TV, and crawls up the ceiling towards you. She's silent, and you can't see her face under all of that hair. She's quite small, though you can't precisely guess her size because of the way her body is all twisted while she moves. You think that she must be around 5-foot-tall, give or take a few inches.

When she lets go of the ceiling, she falls on the floor right in front of you. It's not long before she gets up on her twisted knees, her hands grasping your legs for balance.

Her head rubs up against your legs, then stops for a moment against your belly, before continuing its ascent towards your frozen face.

She faces you, and slowly moves her hair away so she can meet your gaze. Her eyes are opened wide; She's studying you.

She whispers something, and it takes you a second to realize that it wasn't English, because at first you think you hadn't understood because of how quiet her voice is. She continues talking in Japanese, and you are left completely at her mercy, not knowing what she wants with you.

She pulls back a little, and grab the hem of her dress, as if to pull it up.