Chapter 5 - Miwaku: European Mansion

1

A stinging sensation on the right side of Shinichi’s face woke him up. He instinctively reached for his cheek, and his fingertips were met with the sensation of something soft and warm.

“Screech!”

The rat by Shinichi’s face let out a strange cry when he touched it. It immediately jumped back and bared its sharp front teeth in a threatening manner. It opened its mouth so wide that the thin strip of flesh it had been gnawing on fell to the floor.

Shinichi’s cheek still stung. He touched it with his fingertips and discovered he was bleeding. The flesh the rat was eating was likely from his own face. It had probably taken a bite out of him while he was unconscious. But that wasn’t enough to shock him anymore.

The rat’s whole body was covered in blue fur, and its enormous eyes took up nearly half of its head in a most unsettling fashion. But compared to the monster, it was actually kind of cute.

Shinichi picked up the scrap of flesh and threw it across the room. The rat raised its tail and instantly gave chase. The room was now silent again, and the pain in his cheek was growing stronger.

“...Well. I’m not dead yet, huh?” he whispered hoarsely, hugging his knees.

Shinichi had hidden himself under the long table in the dining room. He had no idea how long he’d been there, but it was far too late to regret not picking up Kota’s wristwatch. Thick iron bars and wooden planks covered the windows, making it impossible to even tell if it was day or night.

He hadn’t eaten anything since coming into the mansion, and his mouth was so parched that his tongue felt like sandpaper. His lips were dry and cracked, while his throat burned all the way down. He might find some bottled water if he searched the mansion, but he had no intention of leaving the room. There was no telling where the monster could be hiding. He never wanted to see that fearsome creature ever again.

His limbs were weak. He also had a terrible headache like someone was pounding on his skull from the inside. His eyelids grew heavy, and he would slip in and out of consciousness. All signs pointed to dehydration. He remembered reading in a comic once that human beings could only survive three to five days without water. There was no way of telling how long he’d been trapped in the mansion now, but he couldn’t be far from death. Burying his face in his knees, he closed his eyes. He could feel himself slowly slipping away.

Maybe this time I won’t wake up. If I’m going to die, I’d rather just peacefully stop breathing. I definitely don’t want to be torn apart the way Kota was. Just... quietly...

He silently prayed with all his heart for mercy, but he was startled out of this thoughts.

Wham!

A sudden noise echoed loudly from somewhere in the house. Lifting his head, he focused all of his energy on his eardrums.

Is it him?

An image of the blue giant crept into the back of his mind, but he quickly dismissed it.

No! Getting eaten by that thing is the last thing I want!

Turning to look at the door, he started to pick himself up off the ground. He was planning on using whatever strength he had left to bolt if the monster appeared.

“Whoa! The inside’s cleaner than I thought.”

But unexpectedly, he heard a voice coming from the other side of the door. A familiar voice.

“H-Hey. Don’t you think we should go back?” said a second familiar, shrill voice.

“What? You scared, Takeshi?”

“No, Takuro. That’s not it. You nabbed the key from your dad, right? I just don’t want to get in trouble...”

It was Takeshi and Takuro. Shinichi froze when he heard their names.

My classmates! They must have come here looking for us! Takuro! I’m right here!

Shinichi tried to call to them, but only a puff of air escaped his throat. The dehydration must have been affecting his vocal cords. He couldn’t speak a word. Shinichi crawled out from under the table and tried to stand, but his legs were weak. They were barely responsive. It almost felt like they didn’t belong to him.

“Be honest, Takeshi. You’re scared, aren’t you? You’re always pulling stupid pranks and getting yelled at by the teacher. There’s no way you’re worried about getting in a little trouble over me stealing a key from my old man.”

Shinichi crawled across the floor as he listened to Takuro laughing. His joints were creaking after being huddled up under the table so long. Every movement sent pain shooting through his body, but this was no time to falter. If he missed this chance, all that awaited him was death and despair.

With herculean effort, Shinichi pressed on through the pain and finally managed to reach the door. He leaned against the wall to support himself and dug deep to find the strength to reach up and turn the doorknob. He opened it a crack and peered through it down the hall. The source of the voices was a group of four people standing in the foyer. It was Takuro, Takeshi, and Mika, accompanied by Hiroshi for some reason. They were all looking around at the mansion in fascination. They hadn’t noticed Shinichi yet.

Everyone! I’m right here! Over here!

Still unable to speak, he lifted his right arm to bang on the floor, but it would be too late by the time the four of them noticed anything. Before Shinichi’s fist could hit the floorboards, something snatched his legs and started to drag him off into the kitchen. He was sliding along the floor before he even knew what was happening, and he slammed right into the cupboard. A plate fell from the shelves, crashing to the floor in a loud clatter.

He could feel a warm liquid dripping down his cheek. He figured he must have cut his head when he struck the cupboard. His face twisted in pain, he looked up to see who or what was dragging him off. It was exactly what he hadn’t wanted to see: the blue monster that had attacked Kota.

Uwaaaaah!

He tried to scream, but couldn’t. His dry throat was spent. The only thing that came to his mouth was the taste of blood. Shinichi watched in horror as the monster closed the door behind it, and then fixed its giant eyes on him.

“Wh-Wh-What was that sound, Takuro? No one’s here, right? So what was that sound?”

He could still hear Takeshi’s panicking voice from the front hall.

“I-I knew it! That blue-skinned monster is here!”

“Preposterous. You have to think about these things rationally. There’s simply no way that such monsters actually exist,” Hiroshi responded in his usual calm tone.

A bitter smile crept across Shinichi’s dry lips at those words.

I guess even the smartest kid in class is wrong every now and then.

The monster slowly leaned over Shinichi. Strangely enough, he felt no fear. Perhaps more accurately, the fear he felt was so great that it tripped his emotional circuit breaker. He felt hardly anything as he closed his eyes to say his prayers. He begged for his consciousness to cut out before it attacked, but he wouldn’t be that lucky.

There was the sound of snapping bones, and the next thing he knew, it felt like he was floating in the air. A foul-smelling liquid washed over him, running from his hips to his chest to his head.

What just happened?

He opened his eyes, unable to comprehend what was going on. Shinichi was hanging upside down in midair in what seemed to be the kitchen. Everything below his right knee was inside the monster’s mouth, and the foul green liquid dripping down him was its saliva.

As he looked up, Shinichi’s eyes met the monster’s. The inhuman creature opened its left eye especially wide, clenched its jaw, and chomped through Shinichi’s right leg. His consciousness was quickly fading.

Please. Just let me sleep now.

Shinichi continued to pray desperately.

2

Honestly... what am I doing?

Hiroshi cursed his weakness for European architecture as he hurried down the long hall.

I followed Takuro here in order to keep my promise with Shun.

He remembered Shun’s words clearly: “If any of our classmates say they’re going, you have to stop them.” But it wasn’t like Hiroshi believed all the gossip about a man-eating monster living in the Jailhouse. He knew good and well that such a thing couldn’t possibly exist. Normally, he would have laughed it all off as stupidity, but the serious look on Shun’s face when he’d said those words made him think twice.

Perhaps a living creature beyond human knowledge—something science couldn’t explain—really did live here. Of course, he had no evidence of that. The afterlife, supernatural powers, even gods... Hiroshi believed in nothing of the sort, so why was he suddenly willing to entertain the idea of something as silly as the Abominable Snowman or the Loch Ness Monster? Even he couldn’t say for certain.

If he had to guess, it was because he’d discovered that new species of grasshopper in front of the Jailhouse yesterday. Looking at it, he’d felt a strange sense of déjà vu. Hadn’t he chased after a blue grasshopper in this area just recently? He tried desperately to remember, but a thick veil obscured his memories. All he could recall was a vague series of impressions, and somewhere among them was something about a blue monster.

I have to keep my promise to Shun.

Hiroshi had only followed Takuro in the first place because he was determined to keep his word. He’d managed to catch up with him and the others just as they opened the front door to the Jailhouse. “Oh! How beautiful!”

Hiroshi was awestruck when he saw the white, heavily textured walls inside the mansion. They were made with stucco, a traditional European plaster. And the work was in incredible condition. Someone must have been taking care of it.

From the outside, Hiroshi had thought the mansion resembled the Pisa Cathedral. He’d also noticed a beautiful chandelier hanging in the entrance hall, possibly Italian. Whoever built the mansion clearly had a taste for European styling. Thanks to the influence of his Italian grandfather, Hiroshi had a great interest in anything European himself. And the moment he’d laid eyes on the mansion’s interior, he was smitten. It was like he was beguiled inside, forgetting all about his promise to Shun.

Ugh, I keep getting distracted.

Hiroshi vigorously shook his head to try and purge the beautiful walls from his mind. He cursed himself again and made his way toward the door at the end of the hall. He’d heard a sound coming from that room.

Takeshi had immediately started yelling about monsters, but Hiroshi found that highly unlikely. He was intent on investigating, and he had left the others at the entrance to go see what the noise really was. Was it to reassure Takeshi? No, that wasn’t it. It was to satisfy his own curiosity. He’d taken the initiative because he needed to prove to himself that there wasn’t really any monster.

Standing before the door, he turned the knob. The door creaked as it opened outward. Quite nervous, Hiroshi peered inside. He didn’t see anyone. Focusing his ears, all he could hear was his own breathing. He opened the door further and stepped inside.

In the center of the room was a large, elaborately inlaid dining table. A bit beyond it was a classical cupboard. They were both Italian, most likely. The shelves of the cupboard were neatly lined with expensive-looking plates. Reflecting the soft light of the chandelier, each one shone like a pearl.

Hiroshi couldn’t help sighing in admiration at the intricate beauty of the sight. Even though he’d just rebuked himself for such behavior, all thoughts of the monster completely left his mind as he walked over to the cupboard to take in its brilliance up close. As he approached, however, he spotted the remains of a shattered plate on the floor. He suspected it was the noise they’d heard. Something must have caused the cupboard door to open, and the plate came tumbling out.

The original owner of the mansion was clearly a methodical person. The broken pieces of plate glimmered brightly, almost as if they’d just been polished. There wasn’t a fingerprint to be seen on them. He could have stared at the mesmerizing sight for hours.

Hiroshi wanted to take one of them with him and keep it in his desk to admire while he took breaks from studying. Naturally, he couldn’t just steal a plate, but surely no one would mind him taking a piece of the broken one. Unable to suppress the urge, he picked up a fragment of it. He felt a slight pain, and bright red blood dripped down his finger. The broken edges were sharper than he’d imagined.

After putting the fragment in his jacket pocket, Hiroshi licked the cut on his index finger and silently stood up. He turned around to return to the others when he spotted something else that caught his eye.

“Hmm?”

He’d been so entranced by the furniture that he hadn’t paid much attention to anything else, but on the dining table sat something odd. It was something that seemed quite out of place in an abandoned mansion: a whole cake decorated with colorful candles. It appeared real at first glance, but the perfect sheen on the strawberries exposed it as a fake. Next to the cake stood a photo frame holding a replica portrait of a foreign man with great curly hair. It looked like something one might find hung in a classic music room or library.

Hiroshi leaned in to get a better look. The name “Jean de la Fontaine” was written under the portrait. He was a French fabulist from the 17th century. If Hiroshi recalled correctly, he was the man that the famous proverb “all roads lead to Rome” was frequently attributed to. But what was his portrait doing here? He cocked his head quizzically and looked around.

Wait. This place is supposed to be abandoned, is it not?

If it was, it was strange that so much furniture remained. And in good shape, no less. Had Takuro’s father moved it all in? No, that couldn’t be it. It seemed extremely unlikely that he’d bother to furnish the place before it was demolished to build a store.

According to rumor, it had been 20 years since the last owner disappeared. If no one had been in the mansion since, it should have been in a state of disrepair and utter neglect. Yet the plates were polished to a shine and not a speck of dust could be seen anywhere on the floor. Someone had to be dutifully cleaning every inch of the place. Hiroshi gulped and looked up toward the ceiling.

Why is the chandelier even lit, anyway? Is someone in here besides us?

Sensing someone’s eyes on him, Hiroshi whipped around. There was no one else in the room. Only the giant cupboard sat there in silence.

Actually... why is that plate broken?

A new question popped into his head as he stared at it. There had been no indication of an earthquake, and there was no sign of a draft coming from anywhere. They’d forced the front door open, but even if that had shaken anything, it shouldn’t have reached this far.

“A man-eating monster lives there!”

Shun’s words resurfaced in Hiroshi’s mind, and he could feel a chill run down his spine. The room was cold, but he was sweating for some reason.

We should get out of here. And quickly.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up. It was like an internal warning siren had gone off in his body.

From the moment animals first set foot on land four million years ago, insects had always prospered. It was Hiroshi’s belief that the cockroach, hated and reviled by humans, would never go extinct because of its superior ability to sense danger. They used the sensors covering their bodies to accurately read things like temperature and humidity as well as the smells and sounds of the surrounding area. Insects were surprisingly sensitive to malice.

Though they weren’t anywhere near the level of an insect’s, humans also had such sensors. And while Hiroshi didn’t believe in anything unscientific, he did put some stock in animal instincts.

This isn’t good.

Hiroshi broke into a run and darted out of the dining hall.

“Something bad’s about to happen. We need to leave—”

He ran as hard as he could to the entrance hall, but there was no one there. He looked around everywhere, but still found himself alone.

“...Guys?”

He called out to no one in particular, but no answer came. Thinking they’d gone outside, he tried the front door, but it was locked, and the knob wouldn’t turn. He inspected the door, but could find no sort of device that would unlock it. There was just an empty keyhole under the doorknob.

Giving up on going outside, Hiroshi stepped back from the door and decided to look for another exit. The mansion’s front hall stretched to the east and west. There were windows evenly spaced out along the southern wall, but each was covered in thick wooden planks. He inspected the closest one, but it was tightly affixed in place. There would be no way to get it off without some kind of tool. He then looked to the red carpeted staircase in the foyer that led up to the second floor. Beside it, right across from the entrance, was a mannequin.

In this mansion so exquisitely furnished and decorated in a European style, the expressionless, naked mannequin was strikingly bizarre. Its skin was faded in areas, and the hinges on the joints were all exposed. The blonde wig on its head was cheap, too, like something you’d find in a dollar store. He simply couldn’t understand why someone would put such a tacky item right at the entrance where everyone would see it. There was something different about it. Perhaps it hid some secret. Hiroshi approached to take a better look.

“...Huh?” he uttered in surprise.

He could suddenly hear his heart pounding in his chest. He’d thought it was just a dirty mannequin, but upon closer inspection, the eyes alone were oddly realistic. Capillaries hung in the whites—the conjunctiva—and there were even pupils inside the corneas. They were so realistic that he thought they might move at any moment.

On the north side of the building stretched another hallway that mirrored the one in the south. The more he investigated, the more interesting the mansion became. But he couldn’t afford to just wander the place aimlessly. His instincts were screaming of danger, telling him to run.

Hiroshi stepped back from the creepy mannequin and called out for Takuro. He had the key to the front door. For now, finding Takuro came first.

Ktunk.

A soft thud came from upstairs, as if responding to his call.

Are they on the second floor? In that case, I should go meet up with them immediately.

Hiroshi dashed up the stairs to the second floor.

3

The second floor was fairly similar in construction to the first. Long halls stretched along the front and back of the building to the east and west. There were windows along the southern wall, but just like on the first floor, they were tightly covered and the planks wouldn’t budge.

Across from those windows was a row of doors, and on each door was a plate engraved with a different Greek letter. Hiroshi walked past the closest door to the stairs—labeled ρ, or rho—and went into the neighboring one labeled π, or pi. For some reason, he had a feeling someone was in there.

Unlike the dining room, this room was quite dreary and contained nothing but a bed and a wardrobe. Seeing nothing of interest, he closed his eyes and tried listening.

Rattle, rattle, rattle....

He could hear something shaking rapidly. Opening his eyelids, he looked around the room again and noticed the wardrobe shaking slightly. Hiroshi held his breath as he approached, then yanked open the door. Inside was Takeshi, balled up and hugging his knees.

Rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle, rattle....

Takeshi’s whole body was trembling violently, as if he were being shaken by some unseen force. He had his arms wrapped around himself like he was trying to stop the shaking, but it clearly wasn’t working.

“Are you okay?”

Takeshi showed no response to Hiroshi’s question. He just stared into space and, like a broken toy, continued to tremble.

“What is it? Did something happen? Where are Takuro and Mika?”

Hiroshi asked question after question, but Takeshi offered no answers. Tears freely flowed from his eyes, which were open so wide that they looked like they might just fall out of their sockets.

Hiroshi realized there was no point in talking to him while he was in this state, so he gave up and started to poke around the wardrobe.

In the back of the wardrobe was a poster-sized map of the world. It had a singular red pin stuck into the upper-left section of the African continent, specifically in Morocco. Hiroshi stepped closer to get a better look at it, which made Takeshi jump. Hiroshi ignored him and leaned in toward the poster.

Stretching across Morocco was a mountain range called the Atlas Mountains that ran from Algeria to Tunisia. From north to south, it was further divided into the Middle Atlas, High Atlas, and Anti-Atlas regions. The pin was pressed into the Middle Atlas range. Hiroshi had to wonder why.

“You didn’t put this pin here, did you, Takeshi?”

Hiroshi tried to get an answer out of the quivering boy, but Takeshi wouldn’t even look at him. He turned back to the map with his head cocked to the side. Even with the wardrobe and wooden bed, the room was utterly dull. That was what made the map seem so peculiar. It was like with the cake and photo frame he’d seen in the dining room. It just didn’t fit. They stuck out so much that it was like they’d been put there on purpose for visitors to find, just like how you’d expect to come across key items in a video game.

Wait, a game...

A new sense of déjà vu overcame Hiroshi as he looked down at Takeshi, his unblinking eyes darting fearfully from left to right. Takeshi locking himself in a wardrobe... Hadn’t he just seen this same scene somewhere not too long ago? It only took a few moments’ thought to put it together. It was the PC game Shun had made. In it were characters named and rather blatantly modeled after Takuro and Takeshi. In the beginning of the game, Takeshi hid himself in a wardrobe, just like he had now.

Hiroshi felt like was watching events from the game unfold right in front of him, and it wasn’t just what Takeshi was doing, either. There was the broken plate in the dining hall, the layout of the mansion... Even the premise and setting were the same: four middle school students were trapped in a mansion where a man-eating monster was rumored to live. There was no way that much was just a coincidence.

Hiroshi’s thoughts were cut off by the sound of a door slamming shut somewhere else in the mansion. Then the whole room shook violently, causing the chandelier on the ceiling to sway from left to right.

“...Was that an earthquake?”

Hiroshi could barely get a word in before Takeshi started screaming.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhh!”

His eyes and mouth were open splittingly wide, and he howled loud enough that Hiroshi thought his eardrums might burst.

“It’s coming! It’s coming! It’s coming!”

He finally uttered intelligible words. Well, sort of intelligible.

“Everyone will be killed! Killed! Killed! I-It’s gonna eat us! It’s... It’s... It’s... It’s... E-E-Eeeeek!”

Takeshi gasped for air as if convulsing. Tears and snot streamed down his face, making it a complete wet mess.

“You okay?”

Maybe he was just hyperventilating. Hiroshi put an arm around Takeshi’s shoulders, thinking it might be a bad idea to just leave him alone.

“Uwaaaaah!”

But Takeshi was too beside himself to tell friend from foe.

“Stop! Stop iiiiit!”

Batting away Hiroshi’s arm, he uncurled his legs and began flailing them like a child throwing a tantrum.

“I’m sorry! Sorry! Please don’t kill me! Please! I don’t want to die! I don’t want to dieee!”

For some reason, watching Takeshi thrash around like that called a disturbing image to mind: Takeshi’s head tumbling out of a wardrobe.

What is this?

The image was far too vivid to be a delusion. Hiroshi shook his head. This strong sense of déjà vu wasn’t just because the situation was so similar to the game.

That much is clear. If that were the only reason for these visions, it wouldn’t explain why I remembered that new species of grasshopper. Have I had this same experience in this mansion before? Granted, I have no memory of it. But what if something happened to make me forget all of that? Try to remember...

Turning his back on Takeshi’s incessant screaming, Hiroshi searched his memories. Takuro running through the halls... A monster baring its fangs... The feeling of Shun’s tear on his palm... Various fragments of images popped into his head like clips cut at random from a film. They were all too scattered and vague for him to make any sense out of them.

Thoom!

There was a heavy, low rumble like thunder through the mansion, shaking the room again.

“Stop iiiiit!”

Sensing he was no longer capable of crying, Takeshi spewed spittle everywhere as he slammed the wardrobe door shut tight like a turtle retreating into its shell.

Thoom!

The room shook again. White specks of dust and aged paint fell from the ceiling onto Hiroshi’s shoulder.

Thoom!

The shaking continued. Something was definitely happening upstairs. Hiroshi darted from the room and headed straight for the stairs to the third floor to find out what.