KRAWW!
The monstrous bird’s screech pierced the sky, heralding the rumble of thunder, and opening up the darkness with the screams of humanity.
A small walk away from the kingdom of dreams, where jovial music played and costumed characters frolicked with children, there was a tunnel. Past that tunnel lurked a huge, eerie building, standing beneath a sky tinted gray with burning smoke on even the brightest of days.
This was Tenchido’s Ghost Mansion.
The walls of the four-story building were covered in cracks and ivy, and there was a message written in dense, bloodied English telling the reader to “Go to HELL.” The mansion’s only purpose seemed to be to keep people out, and it was enough even for someone like me—Kohinata Iroha—to be overtaken by terror.
Okay, maybe not quite terror, but this place sure was confusing me.
Think about it from my perspective. I’d just been in the fun world of TEL. All I’d done was go through some tunnel, and now I was in some kind of horror movie. It was enough to give anyone whiplash. Who the heck thought this was a good idea?
“This is way too different to the rest of the park!” I said. “And what’s with the spooky music that showed up outta nowhere? This place makes no thematic sense!”
Otoi-san launched into an explanation. “They clearly put a lotta thought into where they placed each speaker. If you’d noticed the sudden change in background music, it’d break the immersion. This is a world of dreams; y’don’t want a reminder that it’s all made by human hands. The techniques they’ve used to subtly loop the music ’n’ change it ’n’ stuff mean the audience don’t even notice.” And all that with a mouthful of pancake. She bought that pancake sandwich from the stand we were at just before we came here. After that matcha parfait she had in Gion, I was starting to worry she’d overeat and give herself a tummy ache.
“I-I see. That’s fine for the music, but the atmosphere’s so different here, I think anybody’d notice.” This place was almost too scary for a haunted house. If it were up to me, I probably would’ve toned it down a little.
“’Sall ’bout loyalty to the game world, I guess. Everyone says the Ghost Mansion series is way different to the other games Tenchido makes. Stems from the chaotic time way back when the gaming industry was still young.”
“As a haunted house, it is famous, picked up by the media, and collects attention.” Mizuki-san added her piece to Otoi-san’s extensive explanation. “Especially the acting of the monsters. The actors and realisticness are very amazing, on the level of top actors. They scooped the talk of how it made everything as scary as possible.”
“Huh...”
Everyone around me knew so much more than I did. I was starting to feel like I was a video game protagonist. You know how it is: when the main character knows just as much as the player does, it makes for better immersion, and it’s easier to teach them the controls and the lore. In a setup like that, the side characters naturally become much more knowledgeable than they’d be otherwise. That was how I felt right now.
Oh, and it was Senpai who taught me that little game dev technique by the way! Tee hee!
Even if I didn’t know as much about TEL as these two, at least I could gain the mental upper hand by remembering what Senpai taught me.
“Are you going to be filming inside this house today?” I asked.
“Oui. More introduction of Japanese culture. Many of the ghost actors are taking a part.”
“Wait, you can get a gig in a Hollywood movie just by playing monsters in a haunted house? Are you serious?”
“But they are extras. Cast of the theme park, only unborn actors. Everything can collect attention and bless you with opportunities.”
“Pour everything you can into your work, and one day your talent will be discovered,” I said. “That sure is a romantic way of looking at things.”
Mizuki-san giggled, then passed me a warning. “Iroha-chan, I think that is a good, correct answer. But it is wrong that everyone is aiming at a big job like in Hollywood. They are maybe satisfied with their work now, and do this because it is worthy. In the end, this is only a result. It is the filming group who wants to rely on them, and use them.”
Right. Not everyone had the same huge ambition I did, and a haunted house was probably the last place you’d look for work if you wanted to end up in the movies. Thinking back, I was “discovered” by Mizuki-san thanks to my voice work for Koyagi: When They Cry. But the purpose of my voice acting wasn’t so that I could get scouted by a huge Broadway star, or anyone else for that matter. I did that work because I loved it, because it was fun, and because Senpai wanted me to. I gave my all to my work, but everything that came my way after that was nothing more than coincidence.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I guess I got a little overexcited because of how incredible this set is.” I let out an awkward laugh.
“No, it was an honest response. Normal and natural. It was cute, so I love it.”
“Wait a sec...” Otoi-san murmured.
“Oh. Otoi-san, something became your attention?”
“I was just thinkin’, there were a lotta park visitors still wanderin’ round for somewhere that’s ’bout to be used for filmin’. Looked like they were still comin’ in too.”