Chapter 6 - Chimi: Blue Ogre

1

With every step Hiroshi took up the stairs, worry grew in him like an inflating balloon.

I have to hurry.

The moment he reached the highest floor, he set about systematically opening every door he saw. One after the other, however, they all seemed to be locked tight. The doorknobs wouldn’t even turn. Hiroshi knocked and called out Takuro’s name, but no one answered.

Thoom.

Another thunderous noise shook the whole building. The plaster on the walls fell off in flakes. The strange sound was much louder here than on the second floor. There was no doubt in Hiroshi’s mind that he was getting closer to the source. The tremors even seemed to get stronger as he moved eastward. He could see larger and larger pieces of plaster flaking from the walls in a pattern radiating outward from down the hall.

Hiroshi looked toward the door at the far end of the hall, functionally the northeast corner of the building. On it was the Greek letter “λ,” or lambda. Following the noise and the fractured pattern on the wall, it seemed to be the source of the violent shaking. Hiroshi leaned in and tried to listen to what was going on inside by putting his ear to the door, but he could scarcely hear anything over his own ragged breathing and racing heartbeat.

Stepping back, he looked at the door. For a moment, the letter λ reminded him of a creepy beast walking upright on two legs. He took a moment to catch his breath. It wasn’t like him to be so shaken. He sighed quietly and patted his chest with his right hand.

Hiroshi was aware that, compared to others, he rarely showed emotion. Unlike his classmates, he’d never experienced things like getting pissed off about something, bursting into laughter, or crying his eyes out. Of course, it wasn’t that he had no emotions. It made him happy to solve a difficult math problem that had been stumping him, and it made him sad when an insect he’d been raising with care died. But that was about the extent of it.

Hiroshi hadn’t the need for emotional signifiers like raising his voice, flailing his limbs, crying, or even laughing. Until very recently, he’d quite steadfastly believed that such acts were merely the conventional means of conveying emotions. Intentional, outward movements to express internal feelings. But that wasn’t the whole truth. Sometimes emotions escaped naturally on their own. They could make profound changes in a person’s face without them even realizing it. Shun had taught him that.

Shun always looked uneasy in class, but whenever he saw Hiroshi out in the hills behind school, he would smile broadly. Unused to being smiled at, Hiroshi had once told him that he didn’t have to feign the gesture.

“You don’t need to force yourself to smile in front of me,” he’d said.

The pained mixture of loneliness and confusion on Shun’s face after he said that was still burned into the back of Hiroshi’s eyelids.

“Sorry if it bothers you. It’s just so fun being here with you that I couldn’t help myself...”

Seeing Shun lonely made Hiroshi’s heart ache. But similarly, whenever he saw him smile, he found himself smiling too.

Hiroshi recalled being quite taken aback when he saw his own reflection in the blacked-out screen of Shun’s laptop after playing his game. He’d never seen himself smile so happily before.

“I was so close to clearing it, too, but it got me in the end.”

Hiroshi hung his head as the words “game over” popped up on the screen. Shun, sitting next to Hiroshi, stifled a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” he demanded.

“You should have seen it. When the monster jumped out of the closet, you looked so surprised. I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“I shouldn’t have let that affect me. It compromised my ability to make the correct decisions, ultimately leading to my untimely demise. A proper scientific approach to any situation requires a rational—and calm—mind.”

He’d meant to sound serious, but Shun only laughed harder. His carefree smile made Hiroshi smile, too.

I have the same emotions as everyone else—Shun taught me that. But I have to suppress them right now. If I let my emotions take hold of me, I won’t be able to stay rational in the heat of the moment. It’ll be just like the time I got that game over because I panicked. And I have to survive this time. Calm down. Clear your mind. Calm down. Clear your mind.

Hiroshi chanted those words to himself like a mantra. He needed to survive and escape this place if he was ever going to see Shun smile again.

...Wait, survive? What am I saying? I’m not going to die here.

Whatever had scared Takeshi so badly, there was no way it was actually a man-eating monster. Telling himself that, Hiroshi took three deep breaths and gripped the doorknob. He turned his wrist lightly, and unlike the other doors on the floor, this one opened easily.

Holding his breath, he entered the room. The stench of mold assaulted him and almost made him sneeze. Hiroshi looked around, rubbing his nose. Tall bookshelves as high as the ceiling lined the entire room, their shelves tightly packed with antique leather-bound books. Many of them appeared to be specialized texts, and they had English titles Hiroshi couldn’t understand.

The room was long, stretching all the way along the eastern side of the mansion. There was a second door in the room farther down from the one he’d come in, likely leading into the southern hallway.

The unique mixed smell of ink and aged paper made Hiroshi cough a little as he moved from shelf to shelf. As he studied them, however, he grew nervous. It wasn’t the content of the shelves that struck him; it was their placement. They were arranged the exact same way as the ones in the library of Shun’s game.

While it was improbable that the two mansions simply happened to have similar constructions and outward appearances, it was still conceivably possible that it was just a coincidence. Seeing details like these, however, Hiroshi was quite convinced that wasn’t the case. He couldn’t fool himself any longer. Shun must have investigated this place from top to bottom before making his game. There could be no other explanation for the similarities.

No, wait...

But while that might account for the look and layout of the mansion, it didn’t explain the other uncanny likenesses. The plate, for instance. Shun’s game also included a broken plate in the dining room that the player could investigate. There had to be some reason such a minute detail appeared to be the same, too.

And that wasn’t everything, either. After investigating the broken plate, Hiroshi had returned to the front hall only to find that his classmates had vanished. The scenario perfectly mirrored what happened in Shun’s game. Were the others all working together to scare Hiroshi? It was the only rational explanation Hiroshi could come up with for such an irrational situation.

But why? Were there hidden cameras set up around the mansion so they could laugh at his panic and share it with their classmates? That would only seem possible if Shun were in on it, so Hiroshi quickly dismissed that hypothesis.

“If any of our classmates say they’re going, you have to stop them.”

Shun had been the very definition of serious when he’d told Hiroshi and Anna to keep their classmates away from the Jailhouse. It was impossible to think he’d be party to some sick prank after that. It was also hard to believe that Takeshi—trembling and sniveling inside a wardrobe—was faking it. It was a scene straight out of the game, but if it was all an act, he’d need to be nominated for an award.

But if this isn’t some ruse created to try and scare me, then what is it?

Walking past the bookcase furthest in and turning left, a new hypothesis crossed Hiroshi’s mind.

...No. That’s preposterous.

Compared to his first hypothesis, this one was straight out of left field. If he had a doppelganger standing next to him, it would probably laugh and proclaim, “How unscientific!” But the more he thought about it, the more convincing it became. It was the only rationalization he could come up with that would explain everything.

Have we somehow gotten lost in the game Shun made?

It was difficult to conceive such a thing could even happen, but there seemed to be evidence supporting it. The world map inside the wardrobe, for instance. Hiroshi had never encountered anything like it in his previous playthroughs, but he could swear he’d seen it in screenshots of the latest version Shun had shown him the previous day. The same went for the birthday cake and the photo frame on the dining table, as well.

The mansion was extremely similar to the one in the game Hiroshi had played, but they weren’t exactly the same. The house they were locked in now more closely resembled the setting of the updated version of the game, which Shun had only unveiled the day before. There was no way someone could have rearranged the furnishings of the house to match the game to the letter in only a day. And if they weren’t in the real Jailhouse, perhaps they’d found their way inside a virtual one.

Hiroshi continued walking and looking around the library. He could see that one of the evenly-spaced rows of bookshelves was broken up by a square table with a comfortable-looking leather chair in front of it. Several old books were left scattered on the table.

This is just like the game too.

Hiroshi approached the table and silently picked up one of the books decorated with a lengthy title designed in a geometric pattern on the cover.

“I knew it,” he muttered.

An aged brass key was hidden underneath where the book had been sitting. Attached to the key was a ring with a wooden tag engraved with “σ,” or the Greek letter sigma. That too was the same as in the game, and if the pattern continued, it should grant access to the servant’s quarters on the first floor. Setting the book back down on the corner of the table, Hiroshi looked pensively at the key. Maybe it was possible to escape the mansion if they just played out the game. He’d need this key in order to do that.

However...

He lifted his head and looked toward a particularly antiquated bookshelf by the table. If real life mirrored the game, the moment he picked up the key, a monster would pop out from the shadow of the shelves. A giant with blue skin and an enormous head. Abnormally swollen muscles on its long limbs. Great, bloodshot eyes. Lips that stretched from ear to ear. Fangs as sharp as knives. The grotesque image of it surfaced in Hiroshi’s mind, making him grimace.

If such a monster actually exists...

The key on the table in front of him glinted dully in the light. It seemed to be urging him to pick it up.

I can’t get cold feet now. This should tell me conclusively whether they’re making fun of me or we’re really inside the game.

Hiroshi tightly pursed his lips into a flat line and boldly snatched up the key.

2

Thoom.

The whole room shook violently as a giant figure emerged from the shadow of the bookcase. It had a large, misshapen head with massive eyes that took up more than half of its swollen face. Its blue skin reflected the light in the room, gleaming creepily. Droplets of a dark liquid dotted its arms and legs like it had been splashing in mud. Hiroshi froze at the sight of the horrific creature, forgetting even to breathe.

“I never imagined... such a thing actually existed.”

He was instantly taken by its strange form. What was its skeletal structure like? It was humanoid in its features, but the color of its skin and the size of its eyes made it very clear that it was no normal human. Could it be a mutant of some kind? Hiroshi grew more and more curious as he stared at the bizarre thing. He wanted to study it more closely.

What if...

Hiroshi’s mind was racing. Across the street from the Jailhouse was a chemical plant that had long been shut down. What if harmful chemicals had leaked from it and affected the DNA of local creatures? It wasn’t out of the question.

As Hiroshi continued to stare at the monster, its giant eyes slowly swiveled around to meet his gaze.

Oh no, I need to run.

A warning siren sounded in his brain. He was well aware he was in danger, but his desire to learn more about the monster was only growing stronger. Torn between the two conflicting emotions, he remained rooted to the spot.

Hiroshi was sure it would attack, but for some reason, it instead shifted its gaze, turned its body, and hunched over. It then pulled a wet rug out from the shadow of the bookshelf. It was small, a throw rug at best. It was also oddly shaped, like a tanned animal hide, but the front of it was so darkly stained that it was difficult to tell what kind of animal it had been.

A thick liquid like coal tar dripped from the rug. The monster pressed a finger into the stream of fluid, then slowly brought its finger to its mouth. Then, like a hungry baby, it sucked on that black liquid-covered finger and wouldn’t let go.

Suddenly, a beeping alarm went off somewhere in the room. The monster looked around, finger still in its mouth. The source of the noise was soon obvious. It was coming from the rug. A watch with a digital display was wrapped around something long and thin dangling from the rug. The watch was incredibly dirty and coated in the black liquid, but it illuminated with the alarm, shedding a white light on its surroundings. Finally realizing what the rug really was, Hiroshi’s eyes opened wide in horror.

“It can’t be...”

The monster dropped the “rug,” then leaped up into the air and came down hard upon it.

Thoom.

Hiroshi could feel the floor shake underneath him. It was strong enough that it knocked him off balance, and he fell backwards.

Black liquid squirted out of the “rug” from the force of the landing. Some of it had splattered on Hiroshi’s face, and the smell of iron filled his nose. There was no doubt about it. It was blood.

What he’d thought was a rug was in truth a flattened-out corpse. And not a dog or cat’s corpse, either. No animal would be wearing a wristwatch with an alarm. It must have been a tough watch, too, because the alarm wouldn’t stop even though the monster had stomped on it.

The monster repeatedly stamped its feet in the pool of dark blood on the floor, almost like a child playing in a rain puddle. Its apparent playfulness made the act seem all the more cruel, and the sight of it finally triggered something in Hiroshi. At this rate, he would end up being the next rug. And despite what he wanted, if he died, he’d never get to study the monster’s biology.

I have to get away.

And so he ran. The monster was so engrossed with crushing the human remains that it didn’t even seem to notice him leave. Hiroshi was careful not to make a sound as he made a break for it.

He headed for the second door in the room and quietly turned the knob. Fortunately, it was unlocked. He opened it slowly and peered out. It seemed to lead into a hall with a blue carpet. No, something wasn’t right. The carpet was wriggling.

Sensing a presence, countless eyeballs appeared atop the carpet and looked up at Hiroshi. He let out a small yelp at the strange sight. He quickly covered his mouth, but it was too late. Turning around, he saw the monster had stopped splashing about and was now staring him down from across the room. The corners of its mouth curled up in a foul sneer as it stepped off of the corpse rug.

The monster roared loudly as it approached Hiroshi. Its bellow alone was enough to shake the floor. But then, as if harmonizing with it, the blue hall carpet let out a unified high-pitched squeal. That was then Hiroshi finally realized it was a horde of rats—hundreds, no, thousands strong. But they weren’t just any rats. They each had eyes larger than their heads should allow, and they were all covered in blue fur. Hiroshi had never seen anything like it.

If not for the life-or-death circumstances, he would have been elated to run into such rare creatures. He could see himself dropping to the floor to get a better look and study their biology with adamant fervor, but he knew now was hardly the time for that. His priority was escaping the oncoming monster, and to that end, he dashed down the hall.

Squish, squish, squish...

The crushing of the rats underfoot made a repulsive sound. Even with shoes on, Hiroshi could distinctly feel the soft, warm sensation of their small bodies giving way underneath him. He recalled the mutilated corpse the monster had stomped flat. The same monster, in fact, that was chasing him now. He could tell it was coming after him without even looking. If it caught him, he’d end up just like the rats. And that horrible future was something he desperately wanted to avoid.

As if sensing the crushing danger headed their way, the horde of rats started to disperse. They hurriedly scattered to the four winds, clearing a path for Hiroshi. As they fled, however, a wretched stench filled the air. The rat exodus had left behind a smattering of torn flesh across the floor. They’d been standing over all of it, probably even eating it. Hiroshi decided not to linger on what the pieces of flesh had once been. He had more important things to focus on, namely running from the monster.

Bounding down the hallway with all his might, Hiroshi chanced a glance behind him. The giant monster had struggled to get through the doorway, but it was quickly gaining on him now. Hiroshi had wondered how it might run with its giant body, but the floor wasn’t shaking underfoot like it had been when it was jumping up and down. Its movements appeared extremely sluggish for its size, but it took massive, sweeping strides. Hiroshi couldn’t shake it. The monster drew closer quickly but seemingly in slow motion, as if walking on a moving walkway.

Hiroshi turned left at the first chance he had and headed down the stairs. The monster was still following him. It was only a few meters away now. If it jumped, it could grab him easily. But it didn’t. Instead, it opted to move along at a leisurely pace like it was enjoying a game of tag. It closely resembled a child gleefully chasing after ants.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Hiroshi dashed for the dining room. He passed through it and went into the kitchen. There, he went into the cupboard and tried to find something to use as a weapon. There was so much tableware in the dining room that he’d hoped there would be a knife or other cutlery in the kitchen, but all the drawers he opened were empty. All they had to offer was a stale, musty smell.

Seconds ticked by nervously, yet the kitchen door remained shut. Hiroshi froze and listened carefully, but there was no sign of anything nearby. Was it circling around? He put his ear to the door that led from the kitchen into the hall, but there was still nothing. Not the bestial sound of its panting breath, nor the stink of rank garbage that came with it. Did the monster even have the brainpower to know to circle around to catch him? He knew from watching his classmates that the size of an animal’s head wasn’t directly proportionate to its IQ.

Hiroshi cracked open the door slightly, carefully checked to make sure the monster wasn’t waiting for him in the hall, and then dashed out of the kitchen. The monster had definitely been chasing him, but it apparently wasn’t willing to follow him to the ends of the earth. Maybe it gave up easily, or maybe it just wasn’t that hungry. It was a trait shared by the monsters in Shun’s game. They would pursue their targets, but tire eventually.

Hiroshi made sure the coast was really clear before retrieving the brass key from his pocket. If his hunch was right, it would open the door to one of the servant’s quarters, and if his memory served him, they were the two rooms just outside the kitchen along the southern wall. Hiroshi hadn’t planned this out, but luckily his goal was right in front of him.

However, when he looked up at the Greek letters engraved on the two doors, Hiroshi cocked his head to the side. The right door was marked “ε,” or epsilon, and the one on the left was marked “ν,” or nu, but the key Hiroshi had was labeled “σ,” or sigma. They didn’t match.

He tried both doors to be sure, but they were locked. Inserting the key produced no change either. Hiroshi diligently searched his memories for every last detail he could recall from the game. The letter on the key should have been “ε,” not “σ,” but apparently this was different from the game. Perhaps this was the result of the update, like the map in the wardrobe or the birthday cake in the dining hall. Maybe Shun had changed other things, too. But if that was the case, things were looking bad for Hiroshi.

He put a hand to his chin and sighed gloomily. It wouldn’t have been very difficult to escape if things had lined up with the version of the game he’d played. He’d already beaten it, so he knew all the secrets. But how had the update changed things? It had taken fifteen game overs for Hiroshi to clear the game the first time around, and Shun had proudly declared that he’d upped the difficulty in the newer version. It stood to reason that it would take Hiroshi at least as many tries to beat it this time, if not more. In the game, he could just save and reload over and over. But what about in reality? Did saves and reloads exist in this world?

3

Relying on his memory, Hiroshi made his way back to the third floor. The pieces of flesh that had littered the floor were gone, as if the rats had licked it clean, and the place was now silent. Had that hellish scene from before just been a delusion? He briefly considered the thought, but there was no denying the lingering smell of blood that hung in the air. Opening the door to the library, he peered inside. The corpse rug was still lying there, tossed carelessly aside by the square table.

Turning away from the library, Hiroshi shifted his gaze to the next door along the southern wall. It was engraved with the letter “σ,” just like he remembered. It seemed at least the room locations hadn’t changed from version to version.

He retrieved the key from his pocket and put it into the keyhole. Praying, he gave it a turn and heard the click of a lock coming undone. He cautiously opened the door and peeked inside. As he suspected, it was the study. In the center of the room was a low, Japanese-style desk. Against the wall was a bookshelf even more antique-looking than the ones in the library. Hiroshi looked everything over, but nothing in particular stuck out to him. It was just like the game version, but that wasn’t what was significant about the study.

Hiroshi cut past the desk and walked up to the bookshelf. He purposefully pulled a book from the tightly packed shelf and stuck his hand into the space it made. Then, putting his back into it, he began to slide the shelf to the right. Behind it was a square hole—a hidden passageway to the attic.

Stepping through the hole in the wall, Hiroshi discovered a stairway made of bare concrete leading all the way to the top of the house. He proceeded up without hesitation. The stairs were cold. It felt like he was getting a tiny bit closer to the outside world.

He came to a new door when he reached the top of the darkened stairway. Repressing his wandering feelings, he turned the knob. It wasn’t locked, and the door opened without resistance.

From the ceiling of the attic hung a naked lightbulb that cast an orange light around the room. The only furniture in the square room was a simple bed, and there was a small window near the roof to let light in. This one wasn’t covered by iron bars, but it would be just as impossible to escape through the square hole barely 20 centimeters across.

Closing the door behind him, Hiroshi looked around. On the wall were two large photos set with pins for mounting insects. He stepped closer to get a better look at the pictures, which both appeared to be Japanese temples. It was quite a strange thing to find in a mansion so dedicated to European flair. There had to be some meaning behind it.

Hiroshi removed the pins and took the photos off the wall. Flipping them over, he saw that one was scribbled with the words “Tairyū Temple” in felt-tip marker, and the other “Gōshō Temple.” They sounded familiar. Both were sites along the famous Shikoku Pilgrimage.

It was said that traveling to each of the 88 temples on Shikoku Island would grant a wish. Even nowadays with religious piety at an all-time low, people were still faithfully making the pilgrimage. Of course, Hiroshi didn’t believe in such superstitious nonsense, but he’d always enjoyed memorizing numbered lists of things. That was why he knew each of the temples that were part of the pilgrimage. The first was Ryōzen Temple, followed by Gokuraku Temple, Konsen Temple, Dainichi Temple, Jizō Temple, and so on. The two temples featured in the photos—Tairyū and Gōshō—were numbers 21 and 78 on the list respectively.

Slipping the photos into his pocket, Hiroshi pressed on further. Next to the bed was another door. It was only small enough that he’d have to bend over to get through it, and unlike all the other lavish and sturdy-looking doors around the house, this one was just a cheap board. The door knob was even held in place with two screws. It looked like a joke.

Bending over, Hiroshi gave the knob a tug, and the door opened easily. What he saw on the other side made him catch his breath. The door wasn’t just a flimsy piece of wood hung on the wall. It actually opened to a whole new area—the outdoors. From where he was, Hiroshi could clearly see the lights from town. The endless line of bright red lights must have been the main road, and the flashing neon lights looked like the pachinko parlor by the train station. This small door was definitely a way out of the mansion, but Hiroshi could proceed no further. There was nothing but air in front of him.

Getting down on his hands and knees, he stuck his head out the door. The cold wind brushed his cheek. It was too dark to really tell, but guessing from the scenery and the positioning of the attic, the Jailhouse’s large lawn must lie below. He’d finally found an escape route, but this was the attic. It was at least a ten-meter drop to the ground. There was no way to safely fall from this height.

“Is anyone there?” Hiroshi shouted as loud as he could. “Please, help! Four middle school students are trapped in here!”

Deep down he’d hoped for an answer, but none came. The only other building nearby was the abandoned plant, and there wasn’t a lot of foot traffic in this area. It was a spooky enough place as it was, and the rumors of monsters had taken their toll. The main road wasn’t that far away, but nobody wanted to use the side road that went by the Jailhouse. There might be a few brave souls come daylight, but Hiroshi didn’t think he could afford to sit around and wait on that chance. He closed the door and stood up.

There was no immediate escape, but this was still huge progress. If he could find some sturdy rope, he could tie it around the bed and get out. And the mansion was huge. There had to be something that could be used like a rope somewhere in the house.

The exhaustion Hiroshi had felt when first entering the attic was now completely gone.

It’s okay. We can get out of here.

With hope in his heart, Hiroshi dashed back down the stairs toward the study.