[ Chapter 5]: "Miss Chizuru’s Final Lesson"

Bix and Hiroshima stood frozen in the conference room. It was silent—eerily silent. Everyone had disappeared.

Everyone, except Tento.

He lay crumpled on the ground, torn apart— chest slashed open, blood pooling beneath him.

Bix staggered back. "We have to leave. Call the cops. This… this isn't normal."

Hiroshima didn't argue. He nodded quickly, face pale.

Bix exhaled, relieved. "Thanks for not being one of those idiot movie characters who say, 'Let's split up.'"

Suddenly, something heavy dropped beneath them.

A loud thud. Then silence again.

Hiroshima's instincts kicked in. He rushed toward the far end of the hallway, trying doors, searching for stairs or an opening.

"Wait!" Bix called. "Let's just get out and call for help!"

But Hiroshima didn't stop. He opened a rusted metal hatch hidden behind an old vending machine. A ladder led down into darkness.

"A bunker?" Bix muttered. "This place has a bunker?"

Bix hesitated at the entrance. "Let's call the cops first. Please. We're not trained for this."

Hiroshima looked back. "What if our classmates are down there? What if we're already too late?"

Bix clenched his fists, torn inside. Then nodded reluctantly. "Fine. We do this fast. Quiet."

They climbed down.

The air was damp. The bunker smelled of mold, iron… and something else. Metallic. Like blood.

The candlelight was faint. But what they saw next made them freeze.

Their classmates—all of them—were strapped to old rusted hospital beds. Mouths clamped shut with iron plates. Eyes wide with terror.

Bix rushed to Sakura. Hiroshima to Tom.

"The keyhole's sealed… with wax?" Hiroshima said, scraping at the candle drippings.

Bix's breath trembled. "Who would do this?"

The walls were painted with strange symbols. Candles floated in metal bowls filled with blood.

Then Bix noticed something.

Sakura's eyes weren't on him. They were flicking upward.

He followed her gaze.

"…Hiroshima," he whispered.

"What?"

"Look up."

Hiroshima raised his head.

Bats burst out from the rafters in a blinding swarm.

In the middle of the ceiling—a figure crouched upside down.

It wore black, its face hidden behind a cracked porcelain mask. A six-pointed star marked its chest—a skull carved at its center.

Then it dropped.

The fall should have killed it. Its head smashed against the stone floor with a crack. Blood poured across the ground.

Bix and Hiroshima, about to run—

—when the blood stopped.

It crawled… back. From the floor, into the figure's body.

The shattered skull reformed. The bones cracked back into place.

The figure stood.

Its mask slowly lifted.

It was Miss Chizuru.

Their teacher.

Still smiling.

But her eyes were hollow. And the smile was no longer human.

Miss Chizuru stepped forward slowly, her voice calm and cold.

"Wait here," she said. "Your turn will come."

She moved toward Miyuri, who lay at the far end of the room, trembling.

Chizuru caressed her face, almost lovingly. "You were always so beautiful. So precious."

For a brief moment, her eyes softened. Her hand trembled.

"Miyuri," she whispered. "You were like a daughter to me… maybe this was all a mistake."

Bix dared to hope. Hiroshima stared, breathing shallow.

Miss Chizuru took a step back. Her face looked… regretful.

Then she smiled. Wider. Too wide.

Her voice dropped into a growl: "But beauty must be preserved."

She opened a box from a nearby table, revealing surgical tools, a fork among them. Calmly, she picked it up.

Then, without hesitation, she stabbed the fork into Miyuri's eye.

Hiroshima tries to run towars her but he couldn't reach her as for him the floor was expanding, for Bix's perceptive he was running in same place standing..

Bix knew she is dangerous so stood there in fear

She then applause bix for not doing stupid things.

Miyuri thrashed, but her screams were tied but bed shaked in agony. Blood streamed down her face.

Chizuru pulled out the eyeball and held it up, sniffing it. Then she popped it into her mouth.

"Delicious," she whispered. "Let's try the other."

She did.

Then, switching to a knife, she carved into Miyuri's side.

Bix shook. Hiroshima screamed. But they couldn't move.

Chizuru growled, more beast than human now. She stabbed again, diving into Miyuri's chest, digging for her heart.

Suddenly, body jerked and contorted, one hand trying to devour the heart, the other hand grabbing heart apart.

As in this madness the heart fell down , Mrs Chizuru, howled, "WHO? WHAT? WHY?!"

The madness overtook her.She fell in ground screaming and tormenting herself with the

In the chaos, Hiroshima broke free. He reached Bix, and they scrambled to free their friends.

But Chizuru jolted upright.

She grabbed a hammer from the box and hurled it.

It hit Hiroshima in the back. He collapsed.

Bix caught him by the shoulder, trying to carry him.

Chizuru grabbed a butcher knife and charged.

Before she could reach Bix—

BANG!

A gunshot echoed.

A man stood behind them—tall, cloaked in white robes trimmed with purple, a silver cross shining on his chest.

"Get out," he said. "Now. I'll handle her."

Chizuru fell to her knees, wounded.

Then, suddenly, she healed. The cuts closed. Her eyes flicked open.

She looked up. "You again… NO MORE!"

The man shot again. Reloaded. Fired again.

Bix dragged Hiroshima away. As they reached the stairs—

BOOM!

A grenade exploded. The bunker shook. Fire erupted.

They reached the surface, coughing.

Behind them, smoke billowed. The house—gone.

The man approached, shotgun in hand.

Hiroshima shouted, "You KILLED our teacher Our classmate!"

The man didn't flinch. "If I didn't, you'd be dead. And this island would be lost."

Bix stood still, skin crawling.

The man stepped closer.

"My name is Father Solomon."

Father Solomon gestured sharply. "Follow me," he whispered, eyes fixed on the figure emerging from the crumbled, long-abandoned building.

It was her.

The cult-member teacher, her white dress drenched in blood, limped out like a puppet stitched together with madness.

Without hesitation, Solomon tossed another grenade toward her. A blinding explosion shattered the air. Her body was ripped apart—limbs twisted, her form disfigured beyond recognition.

Yet… she didn't die.

They turned and ran.

With Hiroshima's arms slung over their shoulders, Bix and Father Solomon half-dragged him down the slope. Reaching the road, their escape halted—completely destroyed, cracked and sunken into the jungle. The only path left was forward.

Father Solomon revved up his old army jeep and drove into the dense forest, wheels bumping through a forgotten, broken route. After nearly an hour, they reached a clearing—a hidden compound wrapped in jungle silence.

It was the church. He parked the jeep in front of church..

Its spire crooked, its altar glinting under dim torchlight.

The church's small accommodation could only hold fifty people at most—yet even its silence carried secrets.

Inside the jeep, Bix sat in front, Hiroshima behind him—still pale and recovering.

"Why... why are we here?" Hiroshima murmured.

"To refuel," Father Solomon replied calmly.

Bix's eyes drifted to the fuel gauge. Full.

That was a lie.

A moment later, Bix saw the priest disappearing behind the altar.

"Wait," Bix whispered. He got out, walking toward the altar, and noticed a hatch. A metal door, partially hidden beneath a worn rug. Beneath the altar.

Bix turned to Hiroshima. "He went down there. There's a bunker beneath the Altar."

Hiroshima hardy able look inside,

he grim. "so,It's there…"

"What is?" Bix whispered

"The Jungle Church," Hiroshima whispered. "We heard rumors about it… back then."

Bix gave a tired smile. "Rest. I'll check. Just wait here, alright?"

Hiroshima nodded reluctantly.

The Bunker Beneath the Cross

Bix stepped down the narrow stairs. Cold stone walls. Faint lights flickered from tubes overhead.

Father Solomon was already waiting inside the room—dimly lit, cluttered with papers, bones, and strange religious symbols.

"Welcome," he said softly. "But you should know—curiosity isn't always good."

"Why'd you lie to us?" Bix snapped. "Why bring us here?"

The priest raised his palms. "Calm, Bix. This is my research room. And… I never truly introduced myself. I am Father Solomon. I came to Kobashi ten years ago to spread the Word of God. But this island… it's not normal."

He gestured around. "There's a cult in the shadows. Their full purpose is still unknown. But they become active… right before the island's festival."

Bix frowned. "That strange festival? Where everyone stands with eyes shut, hands raised?"

Solomon nodded. "From 11:50 PM to midnight. And then—fireworks. Always. I think it's all connected."

Bix whispered, "Why are you telling me this?"

Solomon laughed lightly. "Because… I trust you. And I feel—somehow—I've met you before. Somewhere far. Maybe in America."

He paused. "But… I know that's impossible."

But I won't be telling everything but the time we meet later

Bix looked puzzled..

Then, chillingly calm, he reached up and popped out his right eye.

It was glass—no, not glass. A doll eye.

"This eye allows me to see a person's soul color. And yours, Bix... is a Good one. So I'm entrusting you with this."

He leaned close. "But tell no one. Not even Hiroshima."

Bix, bewildered, nodded unconsciously.

They emerged from the bunker. Hiroshima rushed to Bix. "Did he do something to you?"

Bix shook his head. "No."

Father Solomon chuckled. "Are you his wife?"

Hiroshima scowled. "Very funny."

They boarded the jeep again, driving through the jungle. By evening, they returned to the hotel. Silence loomed between

them.

Father then gave a cross to Bix and asked to use it wisely..

Bix first hesitated but accepted .. and left them

Just as they got out, Hiroshima looked at Bix. "I'm with you now," he said. "Not like I was back in Class 11."

Bix smiled

After entering the hotel, they found no one but suddenly, flashing lights blinded them.

Police.

Dozens of officers swarmed the hotel entrance.

"You are under arrest for mass murder."

"What?" Bix froze.

Hiroshima protested, "This is a mistake! Listen—!"

"Hands up!" barked a cop.

In the chaos, Bix turned. His eyes locked onto someone in the crowd.

Mrs. … their teacher.

She was crying. Pointing at them. Screaming they were the killers. That they tried to burn her.

Bix's world spun.

Hiroshima gritted his teeth. "No! She's lying!"

But no one listened. The mob, the screams, the cops—surrounding them.

And then—

He saw Goto. In the crowd.

Smirking.

Kobashi Island Police Station. Small, suffocating.

They were locked inside.

Hiroshima paced furiously, banging the bars. "Lies! All lies!"

But Bix…

Bix sat in the corner. Silent.

He held the silver cross that Father Solomon had given him.

It shimmered strangely.

"Why… me?" he whispered.

His fingers curled around it. Tears welled in his eyes.

"Why this island? Why this fate? I should have stayed in Tokyo…"

Then—

Click.

The base of the cross opened and its cover fell down.

A blade. Small, sharp. Hidden in plain sight.

A knife.

His breath froze.

Hands trembling, he stood.

"Bix?" Hiroshima called. "You okay?"

Bix's eyes were wide—unblinking.

Then—he shouted.

Shouted with the fury of a soul pushed to the edge.

"DAMN YOU, KOBASHI ISLAND!"

Every officer turned.

"I'LL BURN EVERY EVIL OUT OF YOU! KILLERS! CULTS! SHADOWS! MONSTERS—"

He raised the knife.

"YOU'LL BURN IN THE FLAMES OF HEAVEN!!"

"BIX, STOP!" Hiroshima screamed and rushed to him

But it was too late.

"I AM BIX!!"

And he drove the blade into his own chest.

---

[TO BE CONTINUED…]