Chapter 8 - Kuragari Ni Oni Wo Tsunagu

1

His own screaming woke him up. Takeshi was in pure darkness. He’d apparently passed out while running around lost on the underground path. He felt like he’d had the most terrible dream. Probably something about being chased by a monster again. He breathed a sigh of relief to realize that it hadn’t been real.

Takeshi picked up the lighter and hurriedly flicked it to life. Getting back to his feet, he pressed on. He hated the dark. It made him feel as if he were hallucinating—like some unknown being was holding its breath as it lorded over him. He hated cramped spaces, too. They made him feel short of breath, like he was going to run out of air any second. Plus, what if the walls suddenly started moving and crushed him between them? Just thinking about that robbed him of any semblance of calm he had.

So, when he spotted a faint light before him, his heart leaped. He was finally saved! Capping the lighter, he ran toward the source of the light ahead. He faltered a bit when he saw the remains of a wall, but when he cautiously peered through the gaps in it, he could sense none of the sinister aura that filled the mansion he’d just left.

Stepping through the crumbled wall, he set foot in the annex. Before him opened up into a space that reminded him of a high-class hotel lobby. The place was lit only by indirect lighting, making it quite dim. But still, Takeshi infinitely preferred this to the darkness he’d just emerged from. It wasn’t nearly as creepy. He could just imagine a bellhop in a suit appearing to politely welcome him.

But as nice as it was, he couldn’t relax. Still gripping the iron pipe, he carefully scanned his surroundings. He strained his ears, but heard nothing suspicious. Only the sound of heavy rain that he hadn’t noticed until now reached his ears.

Takeshi quickly looked around. In the center of the room was a wide staircase leading to the next floor. A great oil painting decorated the dance hall. The smiling, short-haired woman on the canvas looked a little like his mother.

As he approached the bottom of the stairs, Takeshi stopped. He held his breath and looked around again. He could see a door to his right and to his left. They were both of a simple design and predominantly white—quite unlike the ones in the mansion. He could just imagine opening one to find a suited businessman working away at a desk on the other side.

Was he already outside the Jailhouse? This building was so different from the one with that terribly monster in it that he couldn’t help hoping.

It’s okay. There’s no need to be scared now. Things will work out.

Takeshi’s eyes wandered back to the painting in the dance hall. He gave a small nod of affirmation, then walked to the door positioned on his right. Without the card fragment the monster had absconded with, it would be impossible to escape the mansion. He needed to do as much as he could while he still had strength and his faculties left.

Grabbing the doorknob with his sweaty palm, he opened the door just a crack. Peering fearfully through the gap, he saw a strange man standing before him. Takeshi nearly screamed. Holding it in, he looked again and saw that it was just a bronze bust set on a pedestal. This wasn’t an art museum, so what was it doing here? He checked around the bust, but there didn’t seem to be anything suspicious about it. Takeshi breathed a sigh of relief, then slid into the room.

Brandishing the iron pipe in front of him, he slowly inched forward. Next to the bronze bust was a great fireplace. Inside was a bunch of neatly stacked firewood. He could feel a draft coming from it like it was connected to the outside world.

Can I get out from here?

He got on his hands and peered inside the fireplace. There was a single 20-centimeter square hole up at the top, but unfortunately, not even Santa and his helpers would be able to fit through that.

Takeshi stood up and looked around the whole room. From the outside, it had looked like an office of some sort, but in truth it was actually quite ancient. He’d gotten the wrong impression. It was as if space was twisted between the door and the room itself.

Was it a dining room? There was an extremely long table, the kind he imagined rich foreigners using. It was adorned with a tablecloth of pure white. Not a wrinkle marred its surface, as if it had been freshly laid. To his left and right were six leather-bound chairs with armrests. He wondered what it would be like to eat his father’s cooking here. That was when he realized just how hungry he was. All he’d had for breakfast was a sweet bun early in the morning and nothing else since. Saliva filled his mouth the moment he imagined biting into juicy, rare steak. The juices would overflow, and he would suck them right back up. He could probably eat a million right now.

A sudden dull pain in Takeshi’s arm brought him back to reality. The underside of his elbow was missing a large chunk. Bright red liquid dripped from it.

“...Huh?”

He freaked out and looked around, thinking he’d been attacked by the monster, but the room was as quiet as ever.

“What’s going on?”

He couldn’t understand how his skin had suddenly been torn apart. The wound began to pulse blood with the beat of his heart. It leaked like some kind of fountain. And for some reason, he leaned in to lick it... The taste of iron spread through his mouth.

Yum...

His throat was so parched. But this had the perfect blend of salt and acidity. It was as if he was drinking warm, freshly squeezed tomato juice—no, it was a hundred times tastier than that. The thick, dripping sensation on his tongue and the inexplicable raw stench of it were almost addicting.

I had no idea blood tasted this good.

Takeshi swallowed, ushering his own blood into his stomach. Suddenly, it felt as if he was on fire. His extremities began tingling with pleasure. All of his built-up exhaustion vanished in an instant.

“Hurgggh!”

But realizing what he’d just done, he heaved hard. Bright red blood splattered at his feet loudly. The pit of his stomach stung. He doubled over and retched again. His stomach wouldn’t stop convulsing, even after he’d emptied it of even its natural acids.

“What the... What the hell?”

No matter how thirsty he was, it was just crazy to drink his own blood. The area around the wound was turning blue and puffy now, as if he’d sucked too much in his fervor.

I’m hungry.

He’d thrown up so much already, but his hunger was unaffected. There was an Italian dish called carne cruda. It was a simple affair using only thinly sliced raw meat flavored with just a light touch of garlic and olive oil. His father had once made it for him. Right now, he could really go for it.

This was supposedly a dining room. That meant there had to be a kitchen nearby. Perhaps he could find some delicious meat there. He had to eat something, or he’d collapse. So he went.

Holding a hand to his stomach, Takeshi left the room. He cut through the wide lobby, dragging the iron pipe behind him, and proceeded to the other room. He’d hoped it would be the kitchen, but the room was stark and bare with little more than an office desk and chair. But in the corner of the room was a piece of furniture that looked like a wardrobe. Takeshi’s eyes became glued to it. A blood-like substance was dripping from a crack in the door, staining the floor bright red. Takeshi slowly approached the closet.

Don’t. Get out now.

His heart screamed. But it was like he had no control over his own body. Only the sound of the iron pipe dragging across the floor could be heard in the still room as he walked forward.

Don’t get any closer to the closet. No more. I just want to go home. I want to sleep peacefully.

Various thoughts crossed his mind.

Run away. Don’t open it. You know what’s inside... No, no, no! Someone help! I’m hungry...

Once at the wardrobe, he threw open the doors. A human head rolled out. It rolled three full rotations across the floor before stopping faceup. Back ooze dripped from its empty eye sockets.

“Ahhhhhhhh!” Takeshi screamed in a voice he didn’t recognize.

That blond hair was all too familiar. Those neatly plucked eyebrows. The low nose that he hated so much. There was no doubt that this was his face. All that was in the rest of the closet was a pile of meat. Between the roughly chopped pieces, a bloody arm protruded from the mass. The string of beads around the wrist looked just like the bracelet he always wore.

“Is this... me?” he whispered hoarsely.

It was all so confusing. Had he been attacked by the monster? While hiding and shivering in the closet, it appeared... Faint memories welled up in him.

Did I die? Then who’s standing here now? I’m hungry...

Drool dripped from the corners of his mouth as he stared at the corpse in the closet.

Meat. Fresh meat.

His stomach let out a weak growl.

It’s Dad’s homemade carne cruda...

He reached out with his right hand and grabbed a piece. He took a bite. It was still warm. Its juices flooded his dry mouth. It was fatty and melted in his mouth instantly. There must have been some intestines mixed in. They were chewy, but that was just a different kind of pleasure...

“Urk... Hurk... Hurgggggghh!”

The contents of his stomach stained the floor brown once again.

What am I doing?

He had to be crazy if he was eating human flesh. What in the world was going on? He couldn’t even control himself. It was as if someone was possessing him.

It’s no use... I’m crazy, and that’s that.

He tried to take a breath and looked up. There was an L-shaped hook hanging from a ceiling beam.

“...Oh.”

At that moment, the bracelet around his wrist snapped, sending the beads to the floor. He let out a sigh of relief.

Duh. Of course. I’m such an idiot. Why didn’t I realize it sooner?

Takeshi grabbed his favorite belt that he’d been wearing. There was a way to sleep peacefully. To escape the nightmares. Pulling on the belt, he smiled. It had been so long since he had last...

2

Shun asked the taxi driver to stop in front of the Jailhouse and paid him with the last remnants of change he had in his wallet. He had nothing left to spend. Shun thanked the driver and got out. The driver opened his mouth as if he meant to say something, but then thought better of getting involved, shut his mouth, and drove off.

Shoving his laptop into his shoulder bag, Shun stood before the mansion. Unfortunately, the door was locked tight. It wouldn’t budge no matter if he pushed or pulled. He knocked, but no response came from within.

He stepped away from the door and, following the building’s outside wall, moved through the yard. Right below the attic was the corpse of a man, just as Takuro had mentioned. Shun took out the smartphone he’d taken from home to call for emergency services.

In order to save his trapped classmates, he needed to find the previous owner and get the spare key from them as soon as possible. Shun had called the number Takuro had given him from the taxi, but they never picked up. It was almost 9:00 P.M. Maybe they were taking an evening bath before bed. He thought about visiting the owner’s home personally, but it was so late that he doubted he’d be a welcome guest. He was just some random middle schooler. The best he could hope for was a lecture.

After running through a bunch of ideas, Shun thought to call the police. But even if he explained that his friends were trapped in the Jailhouse and they needed rescuing, there was no way they would act immediately. Adults were so obsessed with common sense that they wouldn’t believe that they were in danger of being eaten by a monster.

But if they knew there was a dead body outside the Jailhouse, that was a different story. The police would surely take on a murder investigation. Then if they learned trapped children were involved, they would spare no expense in saving them.

When someone picked up on the other end of the line, Shun was expectedly nervous but managed to give a concise summary of the situation without fumbling. Once he hung up, he let out a long sigh. He’d only talked for a few minutes, but he was drained.

A flash of lightning illuminated the body before him. Here he was in pitch black without even the moon to light his way, alone with a corpse. Yet he felt no fear. He’d come face-to-face with an even more gruesome corpse three weeks ago. Plus, he could only think of Hiroshi and the others fighting for their lives inside the mansion. His mind was so preoccupied with worry for his friends that he had nothing to spare for himself. A corpse wouldn’t attack him like the Jailhouse monster would.

He circled the mansion looking for a way in. Just as he was about to give up, he spotted a busily spinning red light beyond the iron gate.

“Officer! Over here!”

Shun returned to the body and, waving his smartphone, shouted as loudly as he could. Two officers in uniform came jogging over. Illuminated by the light, the corpse’s head looked like a split pomegranate. They asked what he was doing there, and Shun answered honestly. There was no reason to lie.

“My classmate’s father has been missing since yesterday. Thinking he might be in here, a bunch of us went inside. But now the door is locked and can’t be opened. Maybe they’ve been captured by a murderer. Please save them.”

He didn’t need to tell them about the monster. It was clear they’d just make fun of him if he did. The officers seemed to know that Takuro’s father was missing, as well, and they didn’t seem to doubt what Shun was saying. They investigated the outside of the mansion, but the front door wouldn’t budge, and thick metal panels covered all the windows from the inside. There was no way inside. Only the small attic door was open, but it was a good ten meters above them. There was no way to reach it.

A grim look on his face, the older cop requested backup over the radio. Maybe if a bunch of officers worked together, they could do something about this. Shun felt relieved.

However, he couldn’t let down his guard. It was better to try every possible plan. Shun relayed the information he’d gotten about the previous owner from Takuro to the officers.

“Maybe he has a spare key?”

“Maybe...” The officer looked a little troubled before continuing. “But I’m sorry, kid. The previous owner you mentioned can’t be contacted.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“That’s the old man from the secondhand shop, right? He passed away five years ago. He was over 90, so it was probably just age.”

“What about his family?”

“None to speak of. His wife died young, and they never had any children.”

“But his shop is still active, right? Someone must have taken it over.”

“I heard a friend of his bought it all.”

“Can you contact them? Maybe they have the spare key.”

It was a slim hope, but it was worth investigating even the scarcest leads.

“All right. Give me a second. I’ll give it a whirl.”

The stern-faced officer stepped away, took out an old cell phone, and placed a call. Shun had no idea who he was calling, but surely it was some kind of intelligence network in the adult world that kids didn’t know about. But why was the officer so quick to act? Shun doubted he had been that convincing. Perhaps he believed there would be some reward for saving the son of a powerful local businessman.

Shun took out the laptop from his shoulder bag and woke it from sleep mode. He started the communications app and started to call Hiroshi, but then hung up. It would just depress them to learn that the previous owner was dead. And he had no good news to share.

He thought about just checking in to see if they were okay, but he couldn’t put them in danger for the sake of his own ego. A call would drain the tablet’s battery. Plus it would distract them from a possible monster attack. If that happened, he’d never forgive himself. The sense of powerlessness he felt was frustrating. He jogged over to the police officer to see if he’d found anything. Based on his expression, there was no key.

“No good. The current owner doesn’t know a thing. From what I vaguely remember, that old man wasn’t the type to blab about himself, either.”

His answer was as disappointing as expected. In the end, they were still in the dark.

“Well, it’s not surprising. If I owned this place, I wouldn’t go telling everyone I knew.”

He was right. People would avoid you the moment they learned the truth. Which was probably why Takuro hadn’t mentioned his father’s purchase of the Jailhouse until just recently.

“However, I did hear him talk about this place one time.”

“What did he say?”

Shun could only hope this would yield something useful. Against all odds, he leaned in to listen intently.

“It was over 20 years ago, but when the old man lived by himself in this mansion, he had an au pair who attended to his every need.”

“...An au pair?”

“Yeah. I guess kids today wouldn’t know what that means. It’s like a housekeeper. A helper. It was a lady named Saya. Ten years ago after she’d lost the last of her family, the old man continued to support her. He asked that she be looked after in his will, so now the shop’s current owner sends her money every month.”

“Is this Saya lady still alive?”

“Yes, but she’s over 80 years old. She’s also had cancer for years and is on the verge of death.” The officer continued, his face tightly drawn. “She’s in hospice care in the hospital.”

“Which one?”

The officer gave him the name of the hospital where he’d just taken Anna.

“Kid, you may want to talk to her, but it’s no use. She’s got terrible dementia. She can hardly hold a conversation.”

The look on the officer’s face as he looked at Shun skeptically told him loud and clear that he knew what he was thinking. But suddenly things got noisy and bright. Flashing lights appeared all around them. The backup must have arrived.

“Kid, we’ll have to investigate what you’ve told us, so we’re looking at this as both an accident and a murder right now. Either way, we’ll definitely get your friends out, so you should go on home. I called your mother earlier. She’ll be here soon to pick you up.”

Shun was shocked to hear this, but kept his thoughts to himself and nodded.

“I understand. Thank you very much, officers,” he said politely as he stepped away.

“Hold on. Wait here until your mother arrives.”

Ignoring the officer, Shun ran. He couldn’t be the only one to kick back and relax at home. He passed several officers as he retreated, but he used the overgrown weeds as cover to keep from being stopped or grabbed. He ran from the property and cut straight across the abandoned factory. It was the fastest way to the hospital.

He hopped the fence and was about to leave the factory behind when he heard a loud noise. He fished around in his pocket for his cell phone and checked the screen. It was a call from a public phone. He pressed the button to answer and held it up to his ear. It wasn’t his mother, like he’d expected. A much younger voice came from the speakers.

“...Shun?” Anna whispered uneasily.

“Anna!” Shun stopped in his tracks and readjusted his grip on the phone. “Is your check-up finished?”

“Yeah, as of a few minutes ago.”

“Are you okay?”

“My blood pressure’s just a little low. Everything else is normal, apparently. I’m sorry to have worried you.”

Her voice was normal, unlike when he’d left her at the hospital. He could even hear some resilience behind her words.

“Shun, where are you? I need to borrow some money for a taxi.”

“Forget about that. I’m coming to you now. Can you wait for me?”

“Huh? But...”

“You just had a big scare. Don’t push yourself. I’ll take you home.”

“I... I don’t want to impose.”

“It’s okay. I have something to check at that hospital anyway.”

Shun told her all about Hiroshi and the others trapped in the Jailhouse, the maid who once worked there who now was in hospice, and how she might know where the spare key was.

“...Okay. Then I’ll wait in the ICU lobby.”

“Got it. I’ll be right there.”

Shun ended the call and shoved his phone deep into his pocket. He couldn’t afford to waste any time. Turning his intense gaze towards the lights of town, Shun set off running.

3

After finally escaping the maze-like underground passage, they arrived at what appeared to be an entrance to a building. Heavy rain filled their ears. They hadn’t noticed it while underground. Hiroshi rubbed his upper arm. Unlike the building they’d come from—the mansion proper, as it was known in Shun’s game—this place was quite cold. The heater was probably broken. He looked over and saw Takuro rubbing his palms for warmth, as well.

“This place certainly ain’t like the other one,” Takuro said, breathing out a white mist.

It was all too true. The mansion had a familial warmth to it if one forgot about the monster, but if he had to say it, this place had more of an emphasis on function, like a business facility. It was still an ancient building, but the previous emphasis on European style was gone. Instead, this was more of a mish-mash of international styles. It gave off a very American vibe. Before them was a staircase leading to the second floor, with white doors on either side. Carefully checking their surroundings, the two of them first approached the open door on the left. Takuro, who was first to enter the room, swallowed hard.

“What is it?”

Hiroshi peered into the room from behind and was taken aback at what he saw. The room was completely clean. Not a speck of dust anywhere. Carpet covered the floor. Atop it sat a long office desk and a pipe chair. In the back was a brand-new-looking wardrobe. On first glance it was just your everyday office. Nothing strange at all. It was what sat in the middle of the room that completely destroyed that illusion.

The pipe chair was overturned. Above it was Takeshi, swaying like a puppet.

“You gotta be kidding me...” Takuro muttered.

Digging into Takeshi’s neck was the studded belt he always wore. He’d taken it off, dangled it from the ceiling, and hung himself with it. His dull white eyes were looking at them unblinkingly. It was clear he was already dead.

“...Suicide?”

“Most likely.”

Hiroshi answered without a flicker of hesitation. This didn’t seem like the monster’s handiwork.

“Idiot. What the hell did you do?”

Takuro shouted, got up on the chair, and unhooked the belt from the L-shaped metal fixture in the ceiling. Hiroshi held the body by its legs so it wouldn’t fall. Working together, they managed to ease Takeshi to the floor. Suddenly, his fingertip twitched.

“What?”

Hiroshi doubted what he was seeing. Shine returned to Takeshi’s dull white eyes.

“Good morning,” he said when he came to.