The boys had called me, exasperated in breath as voices chattered frantically in the background. The line cut off before I could get a clear grasp of the situation. The caller was Takayuki, at least it was his phone that was used to contact me. There was a mess with the Sumiyoshi the night prior, something about a daughter of a Sumiyoshi big wig mouthing off to some Inagawas, and my guys had gotten mixed in.
Takayuki was a kid I had taken from the streets, I had every intention of shaping him into one of the Yamaguchi's finest. With that said, I told Takayuki to round up some brothers and bring back our guys, there was no need for us to meddle in another clan's issues. This would be Takayuki's first act as a leader, and a simple task to execute.
Now, I have erased this event completely from all other records, this writing shall serve to be the only surviving documentation. I made sure to keep my father away from this knowledge and I had terminated all but one loose end immediately after the occurrence of this event.
I pulled up, alone, to the Daiwa Roynet in Chuo. A normal atmosphere, as if nothing was wrong, occupied the busy streets and areas inside the hotel. Unaware of what may await me, I holstered my Glock beneath my jacket. Entering, I briskly made my way to an elevator. Having the odd luck of sharing the ride in solitude, save an old custodian, I ascended to the top floor.
When the doors slid open, following the long ascent, the lights from the elevator bled out into a hallway, shrouded in darkness. Odd. The old woman nudged past me with her cleaning supplies in tow. I watched her as she turned then disappeared into the darkness, no words spoken, no sounds emitted.
I have been through enough to sense danger, cautiously I exited. I was never of a mind to illuminate the area, the further I went, the more inconsistencies presented themselves to me. The entire floor was void of light, save the weak blink of fire monitors. My mind leapt to the assumption that one of the parties had resorted to the bullet, and that they were now attempting to clean their mess. So the lights would remain off, lest I project my presence to a group of drastic clansmen. Hopefully, it was Takayuki who decided to start shooting, and my guys came out on top. Vexing as it would be to help cover for my men, I would prefer that mild irritation over the sorrow of losing good friends.
After passing the third room, I slowed my pace, eyes glancing left and right. The doors to each room had been left open, I only then noticed as my eyes adjusted to the dark setting, the doorways appearing as deeper black, rectangles. Looking further, the hall was lined with the same black matte that stood out against the now greyed darkness of the hall.
I silently slid my gun out from beneath my jacket, holding it down by my side in both hands, gently placing my back against the left wall. My journey hindered at this point. I entered each room like a spectre, inspecting as quickly as I could without sacrificing my stealth. There was a feeling that began to grow on me, even now I remember the unease. The entire situation, the atmosphere, it seemed wrong. Despite the endless hours I've spent tasting at countless terms to describe this feeling, that was always what felt most accurate.
Wrong.
I had no way of telling who was where, yet another inconsistency caught my attention. It stood out immensely; a closed door. I could see a slight shimmer from the metal door handle, reflecting the blink from an overhead monitor. I crept towards the door. Resting my back against the wall beside it, I reached with my freehand towards the handle. The handle began to ease with a slight turn, unlocked. Slowly, I turned the handle until I felt the latch recede from the lock. A nudge opened the door slightly. I leaned forward with caution, an unidentifiable sound faintly reached my ears. Immediately a rush of foul stench hit me. A single glance provided a broken first analysis.
The room was shrouded in a choked void. There was a dim lighting, it made barely visible bodies strewn across the ground. Too many bodies were clustered around randomly in the small space. Looking past a wall mounted television, a girl hunched near the far wall. Her naked pale skin reflected the light source, static from the T.V. screen. I drew back slightly, looking now at the greyed hallway. I slid my gun back in place, and withdrew a knife from a sheath concealed on my lower back.
I listened carefully during the procedure. There was a rustling from the static screen, the pit pat of blood or a faucet echoed over the former. The muffled sounds of the girl, whispering and sobbing. Scratching. A shrill sound that I have always hated, a sound that induced images of nails on chalkboard.
Wrong.
Reaching forth, a gentle push was enough for the door to glide open. Mute in action, lacking sound to raise awareness of presence, I entered. Braced at the knees, keeping my center of balance, knife held at the side. My eyes were locked on the girl, her long, wiry arms reached up far. Bloody fingers, cracked and twisted, clawed at the wall as she ran them back down to her chest. Her scalp had been shaved. Her body was battered. She had been abused.
Two thoughts occupied my mind, conflicting with one another. Find Takayuki. Before my eyes could leave the girls figure the later thought came, don't look away. I approached the girl, passing the static television, furthering my descent into the sinister atmosphere. A glooming crucible of evil.
Was this the Sumiyoshi girl? If I had known the girls name I would have called out to her. Or maybe I wouldn't have, I was locked in silence amidst the delicate atmosphere. My horror and panic was barely kept in check by my logic.
I stopped a few paces from the girl, having maneuvered around the bodies. A smaller figure caught my attention from the corner of my eye, I sidestepped towards it. Front facing the girl, eyes glued to her. I knelt towards the body, looking down only to the level where both figures were visible. Unable to visually identify Takayuki, I fished through his pockets. Eventually I felt at an object that immediately authenticated the corpse, a sleek zippo lighter.
A gift I had given my junior clansman a few weeks past. To double check, I held the item up. Bringing it into the path of my eyes, still locked on the girl. I focused on an engraving within the lighter, a five petal lotus, the Oda clan mon. Looking back towards the girl, she had turned to gaze at me. But I immediately knew she could not see me.
Her eyes were gouged out.
Dried blood stains ran from the dark holes down her cheeks. She opened her mouth. "Pleaseā¦" Her voice came out, distant and cracked. She had chemicals poured down her throat in an attempt to silence her, however the job was left half done. "Please, please help meā¦" She sobbed, the strangeness of her voice made it hard to pin her age exactly, but she couldn't have been older than sixteen.
I stood upright, stashing the zippo in my pocket, as I walked towards the girl. Allowing my presence to be projected audibly, the girl's head seemed to track me by this. I knelt before her, looking at her terrifying figure with sore eyes. Probably starved for days, on top of being injected with toxins of varying purposes. "What happened here?" I spoke, slightly above a whisper, as I reached out and placed my free hand on the girl's shoulder. The girl winced as my skin made contact with her's, she felt of ice.
"It took usā¦" She sobbed, leaning into my chest, bringing her hands up to clutch my suit jacket, she spoke, "it wouldn't stop." Her tone was raising with her memory. "It kept fucking us!" She sobbed. "Kept hurting usā¦"
I remained silent. I assumed those things, I needed to know about the dead bodies. "What happened to these men?" I questioned.
"Aki, she was only twelveā¦" The girl whimpered. "My baby sisterā¦" She continued, my words and presence had now become oblivious to her. "It used me, then herā¦"
"Who is this it?" I interrupted.
"It cut her into piecesā¦"
"It made me watch as it kept raping meā¦"
I nodded my head. The unnamed girl had suffered too much. I would be the one to end it.
I gently ran my left hand down the girl's arm, stopping and wrapping my fingers in a light grip. I paused, the girl still sobbing, as I allowed my eyes to focus. I identified the cluster of veins on her wrist. I motioned my knife towards it, pressing down and cutting across slowly. The girl was unable to feel her death when it occurred, a side effect of one of the many drugs forced upon her. In a moment I could feel her blood rushing over my fingers.
A few moments later, her sobbing ceased. I held the limp body, and eased her onto her back. I sat there for a moment, waiting for the slight stains of blood on my hands to dry. It was too late to try to wash it off, I would let it remain on my skin until I arrived at a safer place.
The static from the television shut off.
It was an abrupt flush of darkness, and the sound of the action startled me to panic. Like a cat, I had thrown myself to the ground, back secured against the wall. Kneeling in a fighting stance. Left hand resting upon my chest in an open palm, right hand clutching my knife, crossed over the opposite. I sat in silence as I brought my breathing under control, decreasing my heart rate.
This next event, as strange as it may sound, is something that was as real as picnics and bicycles.
"Vos ipsi vidistis in peccatumā¦"
A whisper greeted me through the dark. It was Latin, I don't know much of the language, but enough to identify it. It spoke something about sin. And I could feel the intensity, one that encroached the room.
I do not believe in ghosts, or paranormal creatures of any kind. Yet, for some reason, I felt that to acknowledge the presence of the voice, to engage in conversation, would have been a fatal error.
I sat in silence. The television flickered to life, the image of a face displayed. It's skin was a leathery grey that seemed inhuman. It had two gaping black holes for eyes, and cracked black lips that curled into a wicked smile. Away. I had thought.
"Leave." I snarled, the same tenacity that I had always fell back upon during treacherous events finally surfaced here.
Much to my surprise, the television flicked off.
A moment later I could hear the turning of switches, as power seemed to surge throughout the area. The lights from the hallway turned on in sequence, the rooms following suit.
In the blink of an eye, an act I hadn't spared, I sat in light, surrounded by twenty or so bodies. Glancing at the opened bathroom door, with tiles stained of crimson, I saw odd shapes floating in a tub. Presumably filled with a mixture of water and blood. I stood, drained, weary, shocked, confused at what had occurred.
My phone vibrated.
Bringing it to my ear, Reiji's voice greeted me. We exchanged brief words. He had no clue of Takayuki or the other four brother's absences. That alone allotted Reiji more time on this earth. Hanging up, I moved to depart.
Two steps.
I halted after two steps, grip tightening on my knife. I couldn't get that nameless girl out of my mind. Neither her images, nor her sounds. I will never forget the grip of her hands, as she held onto me, using me as an anchor for her sorrow.
Although I made to leave, her corpse beckoned to me.
I slowly turned around, then walked to the girl's body. Falling to my knees, I used my free hand, stained with dried blood, to cover my face. As I wept, my tears rushed past my fingers, merging into the scarlet liquid surrounding the girl I leaned over.
After weeping to my heart's content, I regained my senses. Before I exited the room, I took care to hide my involvement. Unfortunately I had to pin the Yamaguchi's presence there on Takayuki, claimed he went rogue and withheld information from me.
I left the door open upon my departure. Travelling down the hall, area still vacant. The old custodial woman stood in the distance, her back facing me. I began to place my knife back in its sheath. "Oba-san." I called out to the woman. Turning towards my voice, the woman returned my gaze.
Her face was a greyed leather.
My heart stopped.
Gradually two gaping holes formed in place of her eyes, as her skin stretched in wake of a black, sinister grin.
I froze in shock. Wrong, everything was wrong. The past events came back surging through my mind in a wild frenzy. Despite my best efforts, I could not speak. The custodian turned away after some time. She then moved down the hall, cleaning supplies in tow, vanishing from sight.
That woman, aside from myself, was the only person to survive that tragedy. I have searched for her extensively, to no avail, in first an attempt to silence her, then in order to achieve answers to that sinister night. I have developed a sour resentment towards my line of work, one influenced by the previous happening.
However, this life is one I can never escape.
Ultimately, I remain clueless as to how the twenty-two men of the three clans were killed. Nor have I been able to identify that poor girl...