Chapter 10: The Ghost in the Utility Room
Haruto pressed his ear flat against the wall, his expression intent.
Yotsuya Miko didn't question him; she knew Haruto always had a reason for his actions. Following his lead, she leaned in and pressed her own ear to the cold, grimy surface. The next moment, her pupils constricted.
Creak… Creak, creak…
The sound was coming from inside the utility room. The wooden floorboards, soaked through with some slimy, unidentifiable liquid, groaned under a slow, deliberate weight. Even bare feet would make a sound on a floor that old.
'So… someone was in there the whole time!?'
A cold sweat instantly drenched Miko's clothes, clinging unpleasantly to her skin. The thing making that sound was, without a doubt, not human.
Was it Wanwan?
Or… she suddenly recalled what Haruto had said just after they'd first left the utility room—that something had been watching them from the left.
Though Haruto hadn't explained his plan, Miko had a sinking feeling she knew what was coming next.
The footsteps inside the room paced back and forth, as if hesitating, before finally striding purposefully toward the door.
The iron door wasn't locked. It wasn't even fully closed.
The first thing to emerge was a bloated, unnaturally pale head, its skin marbled with the greenish-black stains of livor mortis. It shambled out into the hallway, a figure barely recognizable as an adult male, trailing a heavy, cloying stench of rot.
One step. Two steps. Three…
Just as the two held their breath, thinking the creature was about to move on, it froze. With a sickening crunch of vertebrae, its head twisted around at an angle that defied all human anatomy. Its ashen, waterlogged face stared directly at the corner where they were hiding.
Without a shred of hesitation, the bloated body surged forward with an incredible, unnatural speed.
"Run!" Haruto yelled, grabbing Miko's arm.
Instead of fleeing down the hall, he pulled them directly into the utility room they had just been observing. The moment they scrambled inside, Haruto threw his weight against the iron door, slamming it shut just as a massive impact shuddered through the metal from the other side.
The two of them braced against it with all their might, the force of the blows threatening to throw them backward.
Miko's eyes darted around the cluttered room in a panic, finally spotting the heavy iron lock lying on the floor to the left of the door. She lunged for it, snatching it up and fumbling to thrust the bolt into its housing.
Thud—!
Thud—!
The relentless pounding echoed through the silent house, each impact a deafening boom. They continued to lean against the door until they were certain the lock would hold, only then allowing themselves to slump away from it.
Miko's chest heaved, her lungs burning as she gasped for air. She felt as if she'd been repeatedly rammed by a small cart through the door. If Haruto hadn't absorbed most of the pressure, she was certain she would have coughed up blood.
Outside, a deathly silence descended.
But they both knew. The thing hadn't left. It was standing quietly, patiently, right outside their door.
They stood in the cramped space, listening intently for any sound from the corridor.
Haruto rested his chin on his hand, his brow furrowed in thought. 'A commotion that loud should have drawn Wanwan over by now. Is she afraid of this… father of hers?'
He waited another five minutes, but there was still no movement from beyond the door.
"Has it gone?" Miko whispered, her voice trembling.
"I'm not sure."
This ghost clearly possessed a cunning intelligence and a solid physical form. Haruto suspected it wasn't Wanwan who had opened this door for them earlier, but this very creature. It had likely been hiding inside the utility room the entire time, save for the moment they'd found the pen for the Ouija board. Its bloated, water-soaked feet would have made almost no sound on the damp wooden floors.
Even Haruto couldn't help but feel a flicker of unease. They could complete the mission, but they might still be trapped, blocked at the only exit by this thing. Based on his guess, the door on the left side of the living room was their way out.
Miko's back was already soaked through with sweat. She carefully lowered herself to the floor, peering through the narrow crack beneath the door. Her breath hitched. She could still see those two bloated, bone-white feet.
"Haruto, should we wait or… continue?" she asked, looking up at him.
"No need to wait," Haruto said decisively. "Even if we hear it walk away, we can't be sure it isn't just making noise to trick us. It could be waiting on either side of the door. We're better off finishing the task. Maybe once the game is complete, we can leave directly."
Hearing his confident tone, Miko's hesitation vanished. She turned, walked over to the human-skin doll, and plunged a steel needle deep into its left arm.
The effect was instantaneous.
The doll, which had been hanging its head limply like an ordinary toy, began to struggle violently. Miko instinctively took half a step back.
It clawed frantically at its own arm, trying to pull out the needle, but the steel pin had been driven straight through the limb. A silent scream seemed to contort its stitched features, but no sound escaped its cloth mouth.
The clutter piled around the room began to shake, toppling over as if the entire utility room was caught in an earthquake. The old television set crashed heavily to the ground, its weight smashing through the rotten floorboards.
A thick, fishy stench, like old blood and stagnant water, filled the air, so potent it nearly made them gag.
Haruto glanced at the newly formed hole, from which a foul slurry of crimson and ochre liquid was steadily oozing. After taking a deep, steadying breath, he refocused his attention on the doll.
Miko saw the hole too, her face paling, but she picked up another steel needle. In a moment of unspoken agreement, they both avoided acknowledging what might be lurking beneath the floor.
The doll was still tearing at its arm. The skin there had been ripped open, revealing that it wasn't stuffed with cotton, but with a tightly packed mixture of blood and minced meat.
Seeing this, Miko's hand, holding the next needle, trembled violently. For a moment, it seemed she couldn't bring herself to do it. But then she glanced at Haruto, who stood calmly beside her. His steadiness was contagious. Her gaze hardened with resolve, and she lunged forward, driving the second needle into the doll's left leg.
The room convulsed again, even more violently than before.
The doll was thrown from the table, tumbling to the floor with a wet smack that splattered a patch of dark blood. With one arm and one leg disabled, it slumped against a table leg, its human-skin covering tattered, looking like a lamb readied for slaughter.
"I didn't expect the part where we stab the doll to be the safest," Haruto murmured, a hint of dry irony in his voice.
"I also thought the final step would be more dangerous," Miko admitted. She picked up the last steel needle and aimed it at the doll's head. Just as the tip was about to pierce the skin, her eyes met the doll's.
Its gaze was filled with an ocean of pain, yet there was no resentment, no malice. There was only… relief. A deep sense of liberation.
Miko gritted her teeth and thrust the needle home. The moment it pierced the doll's temple, its head hung limply, as if its life force had been completely extinguished.
Almost simultaneously, a silent understanding bloomed in their minds—the exit was open.
But no joy appeared on their faces.
A waterlogged ghost was still guarding the door, and Wanwan was nowhere to be seen. Rushing out now would be suicide, a guaranteed pincer attack.
"What if… we trick him into coming in here again?" Miko suggested, her voice tight with anxiety.
"No," Haruto shook his head. "That thing is intelligent." He didn't believe a ghost that had been patient enough to camp their position from the very beginning would fall for the same trick twice.
"Then what do we do?" Miko pressed, her anxiety mounting. "Maybe we should run for the kitchen? There are more rooms over there; we might be able to lose it." She had a gut feeling that the exit was on a timer.
Haruto didn't answer immediately. He leaned against the door, first peering through the crack at the bottom, then pressing his ear against the cold iron plate. His lips moved slightly, as if he were whispering something to the door itself.
Suddenly, he pointed to the left wall and gestured for Miko to move. Miko, who had also been trying to listen at the door, was surprised. She hadn't heard a thing, but she trusted him completely and moved to the indicated spot.
"Are we rushing out now?" she whispered, her hand hovering over the lock, ready to undo it at a moment's notice.
Haruto gripped the door handle with one hand and held up three fingers with the other.
Three…
Two…
One!
The lock clicked open, and Haruto yanked the heavy iron door wide!
Miko shot out of the room like an arrow, sprinting with all her might toward the living room. A few seconds later, she realized she was running alone. Glancing back, her heart stopped. Haruto was standing right where he had been, motionless, in the doorway of the utility room.
'Is he… sacrificing himself for me!?'
The intention behind his action struck her with the force of a physical blow. The tears she had managed to suppress since entering this horrific place finally welled up, and without a single shred of hesitation, she spun around and rushed back.
But it was too late. The edematous ghost had already reached Haruto, lunging at him with its grasping, decayed hands.
"No!" the young girl cried out, her voice breaking as hot tears finally overflowed, streaming down her cheeks.
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