Reek, page 12
The image regained focus, showing a pair of feet pressed against the camera lens.
“If you look at the monitor of the foyer right now,” Okada said, twisting a nearby screen to them. “You can see us and our heat signatures as well as our numbers.” The screen was bursting with color, all of the group alight in red and orange with numbers above their heads.
3, 2, 4, 5, 1, 7, 6
“Now, look back at the feet.” On the screen, the image was nothing but a dark shade of blue. “Whatever it is,” he continued, “it has no heat. And no number. It is definitely not one of us. As far as the camera is concerned, there is nothing there.”
“Well,” Sato said. “That, uh, it could be a malfunction perhaps? Or-”
“No,” Kojima said, his finger pressed against the monitor, the glow making his nail look like it had been dipped in blue paint. “That,” he said, pausing to look at everyone, “is our ghost.”
“No numbers, huh?” Jin asked, voice wavering as though he was having trouble getting the words out.
“Uh, yes. Anything not registered as us has no number,” Anno said.
“Jin, what's wrong?” Mai said, moving over to him. He was breathing faster now, looking between the monitors and somewhere behind her.
“You'd better pay attention, all of you. Something is in the room with us now. Right behind you, and it has no number.”
09:02:14:11
“Holy shit! Shit!”
A chair fell over, probably one of the camera guys bolting out of the way. Something was in the room. Something that stank, the smell strong enough to make you cough. Everyone panicked, moving to the other side of the room.
“Jin,” Mai said. “what do you see?”
With her own eyes, the foyer was empty save the team themselves. If it wasn't for the monitor and the smell, she would never have known anything was there. The main monitor of video village showed a high angle of the foyer, wide enough to get everyone in frame. Wide enough to get something else too.
The figure was a blur, a blob that looked human, but only just. It showed no heat, only a dark blue color, like deep sea ice.
“It's watching us,” he said, getting himself under control, pulling himself up to his full height.
For her it was the opposite; her mind sketched the thing, the most terrifying thing she could imagine. All teeth and glowing red eyes, pale and gaunt. Her pulse shot ahead, throat drying up. First the little girl, the door. Now this.
“Mai,” Jin whispered. He was next to her, a need in his eyes she didn't understand. “Don't move. Don't make a sound, just stay where you are.”
A hand over her collarbone, he gently pushed until her back was flat against the nearest wall, the texture rough against her scalp.
“Tanaka!” Kojima shouted, the sound like an explosion. “What the fuck is it?”
“Oh no,” Anno said, pointing at the monitor.
The blurred figure stepped forward towards Kojima.
“Stay where you are, all of you. Don't do anything to attract its attention,” Jin said.
“What the fuck is it?”
The figure moved forward again.
“It's a man. It-he's rotting.”
That last word contained everything Mai needed to know. She jumped out of the skeptical bucket and straight into the believer's pot. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw an innocuous cable get knocked aside by itself.
No, she realized, not by itself, by something.
She could not see what did it, as though the cable decided it was bored with its current position and decided to leap a few meters over to the left. Someone screamed again, maybe Yui? Maybe herself?
“Oh no,” Jin said.
“What?”
He leaned into her; his voice quiet, his hand over hers, “Mai, don't move. Don't twitch. Don't scream. Just...stay.” He gave a small pump of his hand, then pushed away from the wall. Leaving her alone.
NO!
The blue blob turned to them. A scream started to inflate from deep inside her. The blob moved on the screen, edging towards her. Her nose told her it was almost here. Her nostrils burned, as though the stink itself was acidic. Pressure started to build. It felt like someone was pressing down on the air around her; hairs on her arms bending inwards. From the corner of her eye, she spied the monitor.
The blob was right next to her, almost on top of her. From the camera angle, the blue drowned out her own red figure. Death choking the warmth from her.
The pressure increased, her nipples felt squashed. She had seen horror movies before, seen people trying to control their breathing, keeping quiet to avoid the psycho killer. She called bullshit on the whole thing; terrified, her breath was coming faster, chest struggling to suck enough air in. It was getting harder to breathe, lungs straining. She wanted to call out for help, use up her remaining oxygen. Yui, Anno. Jin. She couldn't see them, did not dare to search for fear of the blob suddenly turning visible. One glimpse would be enough to pull a scream from her, a scream that would never stop.
He left you, Sis. Smart move. No sense in the both of you dying. Remember that?
Mai felt her windpipe constricting. Not enough air.
I asked you a question. That feeling of looking after your own skin? Remember? Sure you do, Sis. Can't breathe? You know who else needed air? Who else needed help? I'll give you one good guess. Don't disappoint, now.
Mai looked ahead at the opposite wall. The wall was stained, a circle of color where a picture or something else once hung. She didn't want to die. She wanted to know what had hung on the wall. What was for breakfast. What the next bit of spam would be in her inbox; the million things that annoyed now seemed so important.
The blue blob wavered on the screen; dipping left and right like a metronome. The smell poured down her throat like liquid, threatening to drown her. Her eyes watered, knees began to jiggle. Whatever it was she knew, knew with a cold certainty it was less than an inch away from her face.
Too much for you? Can't take it any longer? C'mon, Sis. Answer my question.
“NO!” she screamed, legs buckling, taking her to the floor.
Her elbow bounced off the cracked wood to hit her in the face. Beyond the pain, there was the realization that the smell was lighter down here. Then, there was no smell. She didn't believe it. Any second she would feel something grab her; cold fingers sinking into her flesh. Grinding and cracking until her bones snapped. The smell would come back and she would die. Any second.
“It's gone,” Jin said, taking her into his arms. “You're OK, don't worry.” She screamed, slapping his face; terror and relief smashing together at once. “I'm so sorry I left you, Mai. I'm sorry.”
Shadows fell across them. Everyone was there. Yui was crying. Anno looked a few years older. Kojima looked from Mai to Okada.
“Check the tapes. What did we get?”
“Check the tapes?” Jin yelled. “Haven't you seen enough already?”
“I don't know what we've seen, Mr. Tanaka, that's why I asked about the tapes. We have to make sure we've got what I want.”
Jin took her, moving away from the group. “You'll get what you need, Mr. Kojima. Not what you want, what you need. Trust me on that.”
09:41:54:22
“If you are asking for my academic opinion, I'd say we experienced a technological malfunction. Nothing more, or less.” Sato stood back, allowing the camera team to stay on his face a little longer.
“Mr. Sato,” Yui began, dressed in a more sensible attire as far as Sato was concerned. Black trousers and a nice khaki shirt that complemented her figure. “You have a history of debunking popular supernatural theories within the scientific community, is that right?”
Fourteen and counting, little lady, he thought. Wouldn't do to appear so bold, though. Better to go the humble route.
“I try my best. My most recent book was centered around crop circles, a popular phenomenon in England. In this, I explained that what constituted as little more than a group prank spun off into a worldwide obsession. One foolish, though creative idea sparks like-minded idiocy on a global scale. Much the same as these 'spirits' we hope to find on this island.”
His palms were moist. He panicked, thinking for a moment she was going to point out the fact that this book had not been successful, a dud, even. An English language translation seemed unlikely.
“Is that why you joined the team, Mr. Sato? To prove once and for all that ghosts are not real?”
He put a hand on her shoulder finding it to be small and warm, withdrawing it quickly as he started to feel the onset of an erection.
“Ghosts, spirits, whatever you want to call them, are nothing more than the brain's attempt at crunching data. For example,” he said, turning to his right. His good side. “Recently it was proven that these so-called 'white light' sensations one has near death, or how the general public like to say 'life flashing before your eyes'; is nothing more than your brain starving for oxygen at the cusp of termination. Like a computer, your brain cycles through nonsensical pieces of data as it tries to hold on to everything, quickly saving before the power is shut off, like a sailor holding onto the mast of a sinking ship.”
“Is that so? That is amazing!” Her eyes were wide. Sato appreciated her playing it up. The book would sell after all. If this show was as big as Kojima said, a tour might even be in the cards.
“My dear,” he said, flashing a smile. And what a grin, famous back in the day; more than a few college girls finding themselves under its spell. Soon after they found themselves under Sato in the bedroom. “It is not amazing. It is merely science. Ghosts are the same principle. Your brain has an equation or image it does not understand. Perfectly normal. The brain cannot leave the image unsolved for that would cause panic or worse. No, confused by what it is interpreting it needs to solve the issue and quickly. To file the problem, again, much like a computer. And what file does the issue go under? The realm of fiction. Of movies and books and campfire storytelling. You hear a noise you can't explain? Must be a ghost. You see something move by itself? Never mind the rational explanation. Could it be the wind or the vibrations of a passing vehicle? No, of course not. It must be a ghost!” He raised an eyebrow. Adding a sliver of theatricality to things would help viewers sympathize with his character. “You see, this blue image could be a serious camera malfunction, caused by the installation or even the trip down here. As I understand it, poor weather is not kind to sensitive equipment. But as your minds are fixated on these ghosts, ghosts are what you see.”
Yui turned back to the camera, “Viewers, you've seen for yourself. What was that mysterious blue figure? Our camera crew swears it is not fabricated. I myself, am unsure as to what exactly happened. Our psychic, Mr. Tanaka confessed he had another encounter, though we reviewed the footage and found nothing.”
Of course, Sato thought, idiot could work himself into a panic over anything.
“With this information, we are going to finish for the night. Another day on Pokere Island is over. Thank you.”
The lights were turned off and the cameras whisked away before Sato could leave a parting statement. He would be sure to add one tomorrow.
“Yui, Mr. Sato, good work,” Kojima said. “Great footage, it gives us something to cut to once we have the stuff all edited together.”
“Are you serious about us sleeping tonight?” Yui said. “I don't think I'll ever sleep again after what happened.”
Sato paid attention. An inseparable part of him. He was the pinnacle; the one beacon rising above the clouds to shine on, rising above the scattered bodies of men unworthy. He paid attention so that there would be an answer for everything. Every single thing. Sato watched Yui, noticing that since the blue blob incident she had started checking behind her in increasing amounts, as though she expected to see something there. The cracks were showing earlier than he had wagered.
“Yes, we need to create tension to get the audience involved. Tension, Yui. You understand?” Kojima tended to speak to Yui as though she was some fragile thing, a meek rabbit in a world of foxes. Sato did otherwise, knowing the honey was easier to reach if you came at it from a different angle. Women were grateful if you put on the facade they were equals.
“Your work has been sublime thus far, trust me,” Sato offered, “but that and the blue image alone will not lead us forward. Yui, you would like NHK, yes?”
NHK, the national broadcaster in Japan, was the big leagues. Of course she would want the documentary to air on one of their channels. Sato, too, hoped for this. The exposure would be huge. He had to make sure he came across as the voice of reason in all of this. The one in control. People would be watching, judging. His career had been impeccable until now, spotless. All because he was the one paying attention.
“He's right, having us all sleep in separate rooms at night is exactly the kind of material the audience eats up.”
Sato stifled an empty burp as Kojima used the 'E' word. He had gone through his own supply of snacks and the pitiful offerings over dinner did nothing for his hunger. He was half amusing the idea of checking the nearby forest. He could catch something, he was sure of it. A mindless, wild animal was nothing when a man put his mind to it. A simple trap, and it would be his alone, every last bite. He licked the inside of his mouth at the thought. The taste. The meat running down his throat. So good.
“The cameras will be going the whole time. Anno and Okada are going to take shifts,” Kojima said, walking away as though nothing else needed explaining.
“Yui, trust me,” Sato said. “As a respected educator, there is nothing to worry about.” She bit her lip, an image which stirred his erection again. Twice in one day was something special, a thing worth going after.
“You really think so?”
“I do. Besides,” he said, taking a risk, “your room is right next to mine. I'm a light sleeper. If anything happens, I'll be there in a flash.”
She gave him pursed lips and a quick meeting of eyes. “Thank you, Mr. Sato. This place, it's starting to get to me.”
They moved down the hallway, passing empty room after room. He had filmed upstairs a few times now but this did nothing to help his bearings, he had already gotten lost once or twice. It wasn't that the building was all that big but there were so many hallways that had no distinguishing features, just the same faded wood with paint peeling off. This one was no different, lit only by a few small lanterns and the moon itself, its tendrils sliding in through cracked windows.
“As I said, your mind needs to file data. You are in a dark old building with a bad history. You don't realize it, but your mind is working against you, filing data in the 'spooky' folder.” Her neck, the swell of her breasts. He wondered what would it feel like to have them in his mouth, to bite down. “Pay no attention to it. Think rationally and clearly. It is just a building. And we are here to-”
“I feel sorry for Mai, don't you? I think she is still crying in her bedroom, poor her. Whatever happened back there, I'm glad it didn't happen to me.”
After the incident, Mai had retired to her room and refused to take part in any filming. Jin wouldn't leave, opting to camp out by her door, leaving Yui and Sato to film spots in various places. He had no problem with this.
“Mai will be fine. I've seen case studies of people working themselves up into a frenzy. One medical test revolved around a doctor blindfolding a patient and repeatedly telling them their arm was on fire. The patient went into a fit; so sure their arm was burning.”
“That's horrible. Who would do that to a human being?” she said, giving him a look that made Sato feel he had made two steps forward, three steps back. This annoyed him, as he had particularly enjoyed reading the case study.
“Perhaps we should say goodnight to everyone downstairs before retiring for the night?”
“Sure.” She stuck her hands under her armpits, casting a look back behind them. “I don't care if my brain is a computer or whatever. This place is scary no matter how you look at it.”
He shook his head. It was all he could do to stop himself from groaning. “Yui, when was the last time someone was harmed by a building?”
09:50:01:03
Jin had managed to steal a small stool from a nearby room, the kind where one leg was askew, causing the occupant to wobble back and forth. It was a better alternative than the floor. He wanted to avoid as much direct contact with the building as possible. Putting on gloves would not help, he was sure the place would soak in through the fabric, staining it. Staining him. Ahead, throwing light up the wall a lantern flickered. It ducked and weaved, moving in time with its unseen dance partner.
First, the Specter he had encountered. The way it toyed with him, using his memories. That voice. Then, the camera picking up the feet. A possible diversion. Finally, another Specter had almost attacked Mai. If the island had been playing hard to get in the beginning, it was now hurtling towards third base.
He sat outside Mai's bedroom, waiting for her to be OK. She had done everything but push him out of her room after what happened. His idea had seemed solid back then but thinking back on it he saw she could have used a little more of a heads up.
Wasn't that long ago I couldn't have cared less about these people, he mused. Now I'm worried about her. Scared I hurt her feelings.
He tried to stop there; end the guilt train before it terminated at its final stop. Something he had never been all that good at.
Andrew.
The spirit had looked like him. Another one had looked like Mai. The place was feeding off him, perhaps all of them; gorging itself, and he wasn't doing a damned thing about it. This was what he originally wanted; to come here expecting death.
The fuck am I doing? Pick a damned side already!
He felt as though he had been cleaved down the middle; two parts of him, both arguing their cases. Fuck it and be dragged to hell. Fight back and save an innocent life. If he was honest with himself, it was a tough choice.
“Goodnight, everyone,” Sato called out across the foyer.
