Land of the Setting Sun
5/23/2007 - Lost
His decision was his own; I turned and ran out of his home, watching as the ashen creatures approached him softly, like they wanted to embrace him. Itaki held his arms out in return, greeting the figures. I turned away, just before he began screaming, bloodcurdling screams that I'd never thought human lips capable of eliciting. I vowed then I'd not let them catch me under any circumstances.
I spotted the rest of the crew, who'd gotten a ridiculous head start. They were difficult to follow in the intensity of the storm, rain stinging my eyes and fog obscuring their movements. I finally lost track of Qara's orange jacket and lost my bearings completely. Shinagawa District became an interweaving maze of concrete and destroyed abodes. I attempted to use a building I'd dubbed the "Church" as a marker, due to its steeple-like architecture, but minutes after wandering off in another direction, I ran into the Church again.
"Maybe, it just looks similar?" I thought. I took a red string from my shirt and tied it around a hold in a piece of rebar. With this easy trick, I'd know if I found this landmark again. I searched for about thirty minutes, and I'd almost forgotten about the landmark until the steeple peeked itself through the fog like a knife. I ran outer to the rebar, and sure enough, a piece of red string hung off the metal.
I let out a disappointed breath, and decided to rest inside the Church to recover, pushing its gargantuan walls open, one of them became permanently stuck open, and I slipped through the gap. The Church had not seen its choir in five decades, and the damage was evident. Nearly all of the wood pieces had some sort of moldy defect. One of the pews near the front was intact, in mint condition, and on it a man in dark robes sat. I instinctively turned to run, but he held up a hand in protest.
"Wait, James. We have much to discuss," he spoke lowly. Despite being twenty feet away, I could hear him whisper.
"Hey man, who the hell are you? And how do you know my name?" I asserted.
"Who I am will become self-evident, James. As to how I know your name, well that's easy, I know you." he stood up and turned around to reveal the face of... the Chinese customs officer who'd evaluated my paperwork. I choked on my next words.
"Uhm... he never spoke English, though. Look, I'll admit I'm not usually one to put stock in demons, but this is a little much for even me."
"I'm ready to believe that too, actually. Which is why, you'll be taking my power."
"I'm not interested in demon powers, thanks. They're already responsible for the deaths of my friends."
"Very noble of you. Tell me then, do these look like the powers of a demon?" He held out a palm facing the ceiling and began to distort the air around it. The more I stared at it, the worse the distortion became. It formed a small orb, rotating and rippling with ethereal energy. He waved his other hand gently over the church, and it repaired itself before my eyes. Decrepit church pews became as polished as the one the robed man was sitting on. Rebar straightened itself, and concrete reassembled itself.
"I'm dead, aren't I? That's why you're here? That's why those things aren't around anymore?"
"No, not yet. You're not dead yet, but you will be, if you don't touch my hand." He stretches his arm out further, smiling softly as the energy hums.
His decision was his own; I turned and ran out of his home, watching as the ashen creatures approached him softly, like they wanted to embrace him. Itaki held his arms out in return, greeting the figures. I turned away, just before he began screaming, bloodcurdling screams that I'd never thought human lips capable of eliciting. I vowed then I'd not let them catch me under any circumstances.
I spotted the rest of the crew, who'd gotten a ridiculous head start. They were difficult to follow in the intensity of the storm, rain stinging my eyes and fog obscuring their movements. I finally lost track of Qara's orange jacket and lost my bearings completely. Shinagawa District became an interweaving maze of concrete and destroyed abodes. I attempted to use a building I'd dubbed the "Church" as a marker, due to its steeple-like architecture, but minutes after wandering off in another direction, I ran into the Church again.
"Maybe, it just looks similar?" I thought. I took a red string from my shirt and tied it around a hold in a piece of rebar. With this easy trick, I'd know if I found this landmark again. I searched for about thirty minutes, and I'd almost forgotten about the landmark until the steeple peeked itself through the fog like a knife. I ran outer to the rebar, and sure enough, a piece of red string hung off the metal.
I let out a disappointed breath, and decided to rest inside the Church to recover, pushing its gargantuan walls open, one of them became permanently stuck open, and I slipped through the gap. The Church had not seen its choir in five decades, and the damage was evident. Nearly all of the wood pieces had some sort of moldy defect. One of the pews near the front was intact, in mint condition, and on it a man in dark robes sat. I instinctively turned to run, but he held up a hand in protest.
"Wait, James. We have much to discuss," he spoke lowly. Despite being twenty feet away, I could hear him whisper.
"Hey man, who the hell are you? And how do you know my name?" I asserted.
"Who I am will become self-evident, James. As to how I know your name, well that's easy, I know you." he stood up and turned around to reveal the face of... the Chinese customs officer who'd evaluated my paperwork. I choked on my next words.
"Uhm... he never spoke English, though. Look, I'll admit I'm not usually one to put stock in demons, but this is a little much for even me."
"I'm ready to believe that too, actually. Which is why, you'll be taking my power."
"I'm not interested in demon powers, thanks. They're already responsible for the deaths of my friends."
"Very noble of you. Tell me then, do these look like the powers of a demon?" He held out a palm facing the ceiling and began to distort the air around it. The more I stared at it, the worse the distortion became. It formed a small orb, rotating and rippling with ethereal energy. He waved his other hand gently over the church, and it repaired itself before my eyes. Decrepit church pews became as polished as the one the robed man was sitting on. Rebar straightened itself, and concrete reassembled itself.
"I'm dead, aren't I? That's why you're here? That's why those things aren't around anymore?"
"No, not yet. You're not dead yet, but you will be, if you don't touch my hand." He stretches his arm out further, smiling softly as the energy hums.