The Dark Mystery of Booth 21 Unveiled

Description

Script Vidéo

The Man Who Smiles When the Phone Rings Ban was an employee at Metro Courier in Ikeshima, tasked with investigating a growing urban legend. He was initially reluctant, considering that the subject matter differed from what he usually wrote about. After interviewing a few people, Ban reviewed the information. Unfortunately, there was no consistent story, which likely meant the witnesses had made up their own versions of Booth 21. Seeking clarity, Ban decided to conduct further research at the library. Inside the library, he walked to the front desk to speak with an attendant named Kouta. "Excuse me?" Ban spoke softly so as not to disturb the people around them. "How may I help you?" Kouta smiled and turned to face him. "Do you know anything about Booth 21?" Ban asked, taking a notepad and pencil from his pocket. Kouta's smile faded instantly. He looked around to see if anyone was listening before leaning in. "Ah, that urban legend," he whispered. "You should stay away from there." "Is Booth 21 cursed?" Ban pressed. "Then do you know the true story?" Kouta remained silent for a moment, then beckoned Ban to come closer. He began to recount the legend of Booth 21. In 1999, three high school friends named Toki, Jun, and Ousei would always hang around the Kino residential area after school. They often dared each other to hide in Booth 21 and jump out to scare random passersby. One would hide inside while the others stayed out of sight, recording the prank on a cell phone. One evening, Jun and Ousei watched as Toki waited inside the booth for their next target—a local thug who was known for causing trouble. When the man threw open the door, he let out a noise of disgust. "What kind of prank is this?" he growled. Looking around, he spotted Jun and Ousei. "Hey! Did you two do this?" He pointed at the inside of the booth. What he had seen was a puddle of blood and a bloodied handprint on the glass. Both boys froze, looked at each other, and bolted, terrified the thug would beat them up. In their panic, they left without checking to see if Toki was okay. "If what you're saying is true, then the booth itself is an entity," Ban said, jotting down notes. "If I had to agree with any of the stories told, it would have to be this one," Kouta replied. "Did they ever find Toki?" asked Ban, watching Kouta's face become grim. Kouta shook his head. "No, they never found him. Но the blood was his." Ban shivered at the thought of Toki being spirited away without a trace. Thanking the attendant for his time, Ban turned to leave. "Stay away from Booth 21," Kouta warned one last time. Ban nodded, though he had no intention of following that advice. The next stop was the Kino district. The sun had just begun to set, casting long, dark shadows over the tall buildings of Ikeshima—the perfect mood for his investigation. The outside of the phone booth appeared normal, save for the chipped paint and the old police caution tape wrapped around it. The only thing that seemed intact was the privacy film on the glass. Ban slowly reached out and opened the door. The old overhead light flickered to life, and the sudden smell of old blood invaded his nostrils, causing him to step back and cover his mouth and nose. Stepping inside, he closed the door behind him, feeling the cramped space of the booth. He looked up and noticed many talismans taped to the ceiling—except for one that had been torn off. He wondered if Toki had peeled it off back then, or if it had been someone else. A shaman must have placed them there to keep the entity sealed. Taking out his cell phone, Ban began taking pictures of the interior. Suddenly, the call box phone rang, startling him. He stared at it, his instincts telling him not to answer. Despite the dread, Ban picked up the receiver and pressed it to his ear. "Hello?" he answered, his voice wavering. "Help... me... help... me," a raspy voice whispered. "Who is this? How can I help you?" Ban pressed, trying to get an answer. The call ended with a click, followed by a busy signal. Ban frantically pressed the buttons and listened again, but the line remained dead, so he hung up. A soft creak rocked the phone box, causing Ban to stumble. When he looked up, he saw it: the very thing that had been spiriting away everyone who stepped into Booth 21. The pale face of a young man, appearing slightly younger than Ban, reached out with long, clawed fingers. “Help... me... help... me," the figure whispered. He gripped Ban by the shoulder and suddenly yanked him up into the ceiling of the call box. Ban disappeared, leaving behind only a splash of blood and his cell phone. The camera was still on, recording the pulsating ceiling above as it dripped droplets of red. When Metro Courier noticed Ban had been missing from work for a few days, they called his family. The police eventually found only his blood-stained phone inside the booth in the Kino district. The urban legend was true, and it had claimed another life. A news broadcast soon aired. A young woman looked at the teleprompter: "A local citizen, Ban Ikumi, an employee at Metro Courier, was reported missing. He was last seen investigating Booth 21 in the Kino district of Ikeshima." She paused to inhale before continuing, "There are rumors circulating that the infamous urban legend of Booth 21 'spirited away' Ban. Many have stepped into this booth but never stepped out. Did someone kidnap these individuals, or is the legend a cover-up for murder? Police advise everyone to stay away from the Kino district as it is considered a crime scene. If anyone has information on Ban Ikumi, please call the station at (03) 4233-8899 or the emergency number 119." A couple turned off the TV, staring at the pitch-black screen. The woman sighed, her face heavy with sadness as she looked at her husband. "Do you think they will find Ban?" she asked. Her husband sat up and rubbed a hand over his face. "I don't know," he admitted honestly. Sullen and restless, she stood up. "I'm going for a walk," she told him. He nodded, understanding her need for air. "Be careful out there," he warned. This was Ban’s mother, and she knew her son would never just disappear. She had to see Booth 21 for herself. She walked to the Kino district and found the booth blocked off with yellow tape. Standing before it, her heart thundered so hard she could feel the pulse in her ears. "I wouldn't open that if I were you," a voice behind her said. She jumped, turning to see a young man. "Oh, you are Kouta," she said, recognizing him from the reports as the last person to see her son. "Please, tell me you know how to get him back," she pleaded. Kouta shook his head. "Sorry, I do not. I warned him about the curse, but Ban did not listen. No one ever does." Ban's mother felt an uneasy chill; something was off about Kouta’s behavior. Suddenly, the phone inside the booth began to ring. With a strange smile, Kouta pointed toward it. "Don't you want to answer that, Mrs.? It might be Ban." Curiosity and desperation overcame her. She opened the door, stepped inside, and faced the ringing phone. Just as her son had done, she reached out and put the receiver to her ear. "H-hello? Ban, is that you?" she whispered. "Help... me... help... me," the voice whispered back. She paled, her hand trembling as she hung up the phone. Something warm and wet dripped onto her shoulder. She reached up, and when she pulled her hand away, her palm was covered in blood. Back at home, Ban’s father grew concerned that his wife hadn't returned. He called the emergency line, explaining that she had gone to the Kino district. The police assured him they would contact him once they reached the location. He sat in the quiet house, unable to bear the thought of losing both his wife and son in the same week. A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. "Maybe that's her, and she forgot her key," he muttered. He stood up and walked to the front door, but as he looked through the glass, the figure outside was not his wife. "Hello? How can I help you?" he asked through the door. "This is Kouta, sir. I am the one who talked to Ban about Booth 21. I'd like to talk to you about some information that might be useful. Can you let me in?" He knew he probably shouldn't, but if this man had answers about his family, he had to take the chance. He opened the door and stood before Kouta, who was smiling broadly. "Do you happen to know about Booth 21?" Kouta asked.