Bringer of Death

Springtime in Tokyo is always a beautiful time. For the people who live and work in this, one of the busiest cities in the world, it is a time of joy, of new beginnings. A time when the harshness of winter is replaced with flowers blooming, of the hope that maybe this year will be better than the last one. It also marks the start of the tourist season, where travellers from around the world descend upon Japan to indulge in its history, its culture and its technology. Of course, not everyone comes for such noble reasons. Some smuggle drugs, others explore the darker, seedier side of this country. Prostitution, gambling and even territorial warfare between rival Yakuza gangs are still surprisingly common, though most tourists wouldn’t notice the difference. But even these actions, and the people who take pleasure in them, are not the most sinister aspect of a modern Japan. Creatures believed to exist only in the nightmares of the most clinically insane prowl the night. Beings from myths and legends walk the streets, some working to aid those they meet. Some, wishing to only gain from the suffering there actions could cause. But then we also have those caught in the ‘grey’ area that surrounds and borders the two sides. This is one such tale, because when the shit really hits the fan who can you trust?

Tokyo: Early 2006.
A light mist hangs in the air, rolling through the neon lit streets like the crest of a wave upon a beach. It was a cold, damp night that was keeping most of the locals and tourists from this corner of the city. Not the best night to be plying her trade it had to be said, most of the other working girls had already gone home. Either they’d been lucky enough to find someone to take them out of the rain or they’d given up for the night. But still a few girls were out, waiting for someone, anyone, to come along. The weather had stuck her already tight clothing to her, and it was rapidly becoming more uncomfortable to move. A black car, possibly a European import, turned round the corner and headed down the street, stopping only when the traffic lights decreed. She’d stopped caring about what the cost of a night was going to be, what the client would do to her or if it was someone from the vice department. No, all she cared about now was being out of these clothes and being somewhere warm and dry out of this damned weather. A window wound down on the car, allowing some of the heat from inside to escape. She hadn’t even began her ‘sales pitch’ when a voice came from in the car.

“There’s an alley two streets up on the left. Be at the other end of it in 10 minutes, or stay out in the cold all night.”

The lights changed to go, the window rolled up as the car pulled away.
‘Well I don’t normally do women, but tonight I cannot be picky. Hell might even be fun.’ She thought, watching the rear lights of the car as they disappeared into the distance. Realising that the weather was only going to get worse, especially with those storm clouds coming ever closer, she walked as quickly as possible given the state of her clothing. High heeled shoes were never made for walking quickly, but still she made it to the alley with time to spare. It was a dark alley, the light from the streets not penetrating into the shadows much. Since she figured that she’d only be here for a few minutes it wasn’t that much concern, and headed into the alley itself. However halfway down she realised that this might not be a good idea, especially when faced with a wire fence blocking her path. Not for the first time did she think that someone was having a laugh at her expense. And on a night like this it made her angry. Very angry. The rain had stopper, but water still ran down the drainpipes of the dark walls. Deciding that even she had limits to what she would do for money, she turned to go back down the alley and on to her nice, warm bed. Complaining to herself she didn’t notice the discarded drainage cover that one of her heels and just gone through.
“Shit!”
Dragging herself off the ground she inspected the damage, feeling the bottom of her boots as well as checking to make sure that she hadn’t broken anything. Her foot was fine, the boots however weren’t. Great, now she was going to have to hobble home.
A pair of powerful arms grabbed her from behind, pulling her deeper into the alley. Terrified by whoever it was that had her, she screamed. A low growl, more animal than human, came from behind her. From the man, no, the thing that had her. Its arms were bigger, more muscular than any man’s she had ever seen, including those of some American movie stars. Still screaming, she started to flail around, hoping to free herself. Kicking wildly she caught something; she didn’t care what, the grasp lessened and she squeezed free and ran towards the mouth of the alley. A set of car lights filled her vision, nearly blinding her. Stumbling she fell onto the front of the car. Close, but not out of danger yet. She scrambled round the side of the car, hitting the windows and begging to help, safety, anything. Footsteps, loud, heavy footsteps followed by a low growl came from the alley. No, not a growl, she realised. It was laughing at her. Panicked and in tears she started clawing at the door handles, crying to anyone for help. A rear door opened, someone got out of there seat and looked into the alley. The creature was now in the view of the car, lit up by the front lights in all its horrible glory. It was big. Very big, easily reaching over 8” tall. A creature from nightmares, its powerful body glistened with sweat, its head what looked like an overly large goat but with 3 eyes. The terror had gripped the hooker so much that she didn’t notice the arms push her towards the thing.
“And when your done with this one,” said a vaguely familiar feminine voice, “then we shall talk business.”
The prostitute screamed, realising that she there never was any way for her to escape. She kept on screaming when it reached out with his arms and picked her up.