The Man In The Suit

After several months of grueling production, meticulous special effects work, and relentless promotion, Gojira was finally unleashed upon the public. The theaters were packed, audiences drawn in by the haunting imagery and devastating allegory of nuclear horror. Critics hailed it as a masterpiece-more than just a monster film, but a cautionary tale that would forever leave a mark on Japanese cinema.

For the viewers, Gojira was a metaphor, a powerful reflection of the nation's trauma after World War II. They saw the destruction, the sorrow, and the consequences of man's hubris. The monster was terrifying, yet deeply tragic-a force awakened by human recklessness.

But what no one knew-what only Toho Studios and its crew understood-was that Gojira was more than fiction.

The horror wasn't just on-screen.

It was real.

Behind the celebrated film was a secret buried within the very foundation of its creation. The man in the Gojira suit-the one who had once been human-was still out there. Somewhere. Watching. Existing.

Shindo sat in the darkened theater, watching the final moments of the film unfold. The eerie silence before the final attack. The scientist's sacrifice. The monster's last moments beneath the sea.

The audience gasped, some quietly weeping as Gojira let out one last, haunting roar before sinking into the abyss.

The credits rolled, but Shindo barely noticed. His mind was elsewhere, replaying the images he had captured-real images, not from the film but from the set. The photographs he had hidden. The moments that could never be explained.

Goji had disappeared in the final days of production. No one knew where he went, and Toho never spoke of him again. It was as if they had quietly accepted that he had simply become part of the legend-part of the monster that now lived in cinematic history.

But Shindo knew better.

Goji was still out there.

Somewhere.

And he was waiting.

A week after Gojira's groundbreaking release, Toho Studios held a grand celebration to honor its success. The studio lot, normally a place of hard work and long hours, was transformed into a lively festival. Tables were lined with lavish spreads of food-grilled fish, rice dishes, bottles of sake and beer clinking together in joyous toasts. A live band played traditional and contemporary tunes, setting a warm, celebratory atmosphere.

The crewmembers and actors reveled in their achievement, exchanging stories about the difficult yet rewarding months of production. Laughter echoed through the halls as they reminisced about mishaps on set, the grueling shoots, and the moments of triumph when they finally captured the perfect shot.

But despite the celebration, there was an unspoken rule-no one mentioned the incident.

No one spoke about that horrifying day when the Gojira suit became something more than just a costume. No one acknowledged the grotesque transformation or the disturbing reality hidden behind the film's success. It was as if, in their collective silence, they had all agreed to erase it from history.

Shindo and Takashi stood near one of the tables, observing the crowd.

Takashi chuckled as he sipped his drink. "It's strange, isn't it? After everything that happened, everyone is just acting like it was a normal film shoot."

Shindo, however, wasn't in a laughing mood. He scanned the room, searching. Something was missing.

Or rather-someone was missing.

Goji.

His absence gnawed at him. No one had seen him in days. Not since the final week of filming. It was as if Toho had quietly buried his existence along with the secret of what had happened to him.

"They're keeping him hidden," Shindo murmured.

Takashi looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

"Goji," Shindo said. "He should be here. He was the heart of this film-the creature that made it all possible. But he's gone. And no one is even asking why."

Takashi hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. "Maybe they sent him somewhere safe. Maybe... he just left."

Shindo shook his head. "No. He wouldn't just leave. Not without making his presence known. He's still here. Somewhere."

Takashi sighed. "Look, Shindo. Maybe it's better this way. Maybe it's best that we don't know where he is."

Shindo clenched his jaw. He couldn't just let it go. Goji wasn't just a mystery to be forgotten. He was a warning.

And Shindo had a sinking feeling that this wasn't over.

As Shindo drove through the dimly lit streets of Tokyo, his mind raced with questions. The city lights blurred past him, but his focus wasn't on the road-it was on the horrifying enigma that had haunted him for months.

Why hadn't anyone asked about Goji's transformation?

Was it fear? Or was it something more sinister?

He gripped the steering wheel tighter. If there was an explanation, it wasn't scientific. No drug, no radiation exposure, no illness could cause what happened to that man inside the Gojira suit. The way his body fused with it, the way he became it-it defied logic, defied everything Shindo understood about reality.

His thoughts spiraled.

Could it have been... a curse?

Shindo scoffed at himself. He wasn't one to believe in superstitions. Ghost stories, yokai legends, cursed objects-it was all nonsense. But what if this wasn't just some old folk tale? What if Goji was proof that something beyond human comprehension was at work?

Like a parasite, something had taken over that man's body. Something ancient. Something hungry.

Shindo's stomach turned.

He didn't want to admit it, but deep down, he felt it-Goji wasn't just a mutated man. He was something else entirely. And whatever had caused his transformation... was still out there.

A chill ran down Shindo's spine.

He needed answers. Now.