Lucy woke up on the hardwood floor of the Maple Inn kitchen. Picking herself up, she felt her hand touch something wet and cold. She looked over to see a puddle of water on the floor, with tiny ice bits floating in the thin film. Glancing around, she realized by the pale opal light flowing in through the shoji that it must have been early morning.
But that wasn't the only source of light. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the harsh yellow light from the refrigerator pouring out through the open door. Melting ice cubes were scattered across the floor.
"What happened here?" she wondered. She sat back on her knees and gave it a thought. Then she realized she was conscious of her own being. Whatever happened must've happened when she was in that awful 'Nyu' state or whatever it was.
"I was…thirsty, I think. So I came to get some water." She had to imagine it happening, as it was difficult to remember anything that happened during the times she was Nyu. "Maybe I spilled the ice. Stepped on a piece and-"
Out of nowhere frustration lodged in her throat and made her growl. God damn it! Every time she hit her head, these little jumps between her and the helpless personality called Nyu happened. It's fucking annoying! she screamed in her head. First a murderer, than an overgrown child. Who the hell lives like this?
Drooling shit-pants asylum inmates, probably.
She stood up and walked toward the front door. But on the first step she gasped and wobbled on one foot to lean against the counter. She brought the other foot up for inspection. Blood begin seeping out of her sole and toes.
Oh, right. The drinking glass had shattered.
"Fuck me." She kept walking toward the door, though now with a slight limp.
And why the hell hadn't the others woken up if they heard the glass breaking?
It's just one of those days when you don't wanna wake up
Everything is fucked, everybody sucks
You don't really know why but you wanna justify
Ripping someone's head off
"I need a punching bag," she said to the sunrise.
Walking down the steps in the direction of the train station, she ignored the fact that the sea salt on the stones stung the cut. The headstones in the graveyard glistened with dew. "Anything will do. Anyone is fair game. Just give me someone to break."
Not too many people were up and about at 5:30 in the morning. That was fair. Not as many witnesses. But then again, who wouldn't notice a girl with horns coming out of her head?
Humanity sucks.
Where's the next victim?
Ah. There. Bicyclist.
No human contact
And if you interact, your life is on contract
Your best bet is to stay away motherfucker
It's just one of those days
The bicyclist was crossing the three-way intersection onto the main road, coming in her direction. She kept walking forward, enjoying the fact that this unsuspecting target had no idea what was coming.
"Ohayo," the bicyclist greeted as he was coming up.
As if invisible monofilament was spanned across the road, the biker's head suddenly separated from the rest of his body. It fell to the ground helmet-first, making a clack on the sidewalk. Lucy turned to watch the bicycle. It was still going, the decapitated body riding it for 30 or so feet before it pulled into the middle of the road and skidded on its side, the amputated neck drawing a trail of blood across the asphalt.
A smile crept onto her face. It was actually kind of funny, watching the headless body ride. It was something of a circus act.
"Who's next?" she questioned the bleeding head on the ground.
It's all about the he says, she says bullshit
I think you better quit, letting shit slip
Or you'll be leaving with a fat lip
It's all about the he says, she says bullshit
I think you better quit, talking that shit
In an answer to her sinful prayers, a car pulled up, coming from the direction the bicyclist was heading in. When it pulled near enough, it slowed and then squealed to a stop in front of the body. The driver got out, a look of panic and horror on his face.
"Oh God, wh-what the hell is this?" he stuttered. He turned to someone in the car, an older teenage-looking boy, perhaps his son. "Stay in the car."
He walked around to the front of his car, looking at the mutilated sight lying on the ground before him. His eyes began scanning the area for the missing component. Then he looked up to see Lucy standing a meter away from him.
"D-Did you see anything?" the man asked her frantically. "Oh Jesus. Did you see what happened?"
The red-haired girl looked at the body. "Maybe it got caught in the spokes," she suggested.
"No, no, that's… I don't think that's possible."
"Really?" Lucy marveled. She focused on the bicycle. Suddenly the back wheel became unhinged, the bolts twisting out. The wheel levitated, then slammed through the passenger side of the windshield. It flew out the back window, spinning warm, crimson drops everywhere like a wet Frisbee, before skittering down the road. Red glass shards bounced right behind it.
"It just happened to your son."
The man's eyes were wide. His breaths were shallow and rapid. "What…what…"
"What am I?" Lucy finished for him. "What are you? You are scum. And I want you dead."
He couldn't even scream before his body exploded in half.
It's just one of those days feeling like a freight train
First one to complain leaves with the blood stain
Damn right I'm a maniac
You better watch your back 'cause I'm fucking up your program
She continued on in the direction of Gokurakuji Station, watching the world slowly light up as the sun inched its way into the sky. No one seemed to be out yet. Either sleeping in because it was a Sunday or having left for work early to beat the traffic.
No, wait. Here came a couple of pedestrians.
Two women jogged side by side, laughing and talking loudly as they bounded down the sidewalk. Lucy stopped in the center of the walkway, keeping her head down but her eyes on the pair. As they came up, they slowed down, then stopped.
"Are… Are you okay?" the woman on the right asked.
Lucy didn't bother responding.
They had partially concerned, partially creeped-out expressions on their faces.
"Do you need help?"
"Let's go, Kitsuki," the other woman murmured. "She's freaking me out. Those horns…"
"Forget that, there's blood on her shirt."
Lucy stood there. Talking in front of me like I can't hear you, she thought darkly. You are the worst kind. You should've died a long time ago.
Terrible. Fucking terrible.
The woman on the left's face exploded, getting blood on the Diclonius and 'Kitsuki', the latter of which stared at her friend's body with a shocked expression. Blood and brains dripped off her hair. Suddenly she was pushed to the ground by an invisible force, and just as quickly she felt a searing pain in her left leg. Or, more specifically, where her left leg had been a second ago.
And if you're stuck up, you just lucked up
Next in line to get fucked up
Your best bet is to stay away motherfucker
It's just one of those days
She was about to scream in horror and pain but found she couldn't. An invisible, vice-like force was clamping her jaws together rather tightly. It felt like her gums were going to bleed if the pressure got any stronger.
"This mouth does not deserve to speak," Lucy said indifferently. "How will you die? Dismemberment or a crushed skull?"
She started to pick the woman up by the back of her shirt, like a whelp by its neck skin. The woman floated up into the air, four feet, then eight. However, before she could be dropped, her shirt fabric tore. Instead of dropping straight down, she fell somewhat forward. She landed on her face, her body twitching spasmodically.
Lucy's eyes widened when she saw why.
The woman's back was gone. There was no skin and the muscle was severed. The spinal vertebrae and the backsides of her ribs stuck out, running down the red, bloody back like a white snakeskin. The flap of skin that had been cut off fell a few feet away, a giant red salami slice of leathery tissue.
She had been skinned.
It was this new concept that made Lucy smile. A new way for victims to perish- skinning them alive. It looked quite agonizing. It would definitely be a horrible way to die.
Perfect.
"Forget Kouta and Yuka," Lucy said out loud. "I'm just as well off without them."
She continued through the morning fog, looking for prey. She left scarlet footprints where she had been standing in the puddle of blood.
It's all about the he says, she says bullshit
I think you better quit, letting shit slip
Or you'll be leaving with a fat lip
It's all about the he says, she says bullshit
I think you better quit, talking that shit
Punk, so come and get it
Why are things always so much worse when people are around? Lucy wondered. There is no need for them. They deserve to die. Especially worthless pieces of trash like that who are apparently too good to help an underage girl because their pretentious suburbanite way of thinking decides that she's abnormal and therefore must be ostracized from their concerns. If only they had given her a chance-
Lucy smirked. Who am I trying to fool? she admitted. I wanted them dead, no matter what. Road kill, nothing more than road kill. And now I can expose their inside surfaces by removing the outside. This should be interesting.
Because who better than society to take the full brunt of my anger? It is, after all, the one that deserves it the most.
She looked ahead, after walking for ten or so minutes, and saw Gokurakuji Station up ahead. A small crowd of around fifteen to twenty passengers were waiting. Men in gray and khaki business suits. A mother and two children. An elderly man half-asleep on a bench. And other various civilians waiting for the kick start of their day to arrive on the electric train tracks running by.
But that kick start wasn't going to happen.
I feel like shit
My suggestion is to keep your distance
'Cause right now I'm dangerous
We've all felt like shit
And been treated like shit
All those motherfuckers that wanna step up
I hope you know I pack a chainsaw
I'll skin your ass raw
And if my day keeps going this way I just might break something tonight
Lucy walked towards the crowd, which didn't really seem to notice her. So innocently preoccupied with their own meaningless lives… This scene was familiar. It took her back to a festival of long ago.
She shook the memory away so she wouldn't lose sight of her task at hand. Everyone, everyone, needed to die at some point or another. She was only speeding up what was bound to happen. Obviously this excuse was a pretty damn lame one, but she didn't care. It was like the wolf and the lamb. A wolf plans on devouring a lamb and tries giving excuses as to why it is going to do so, but all of these excuses are disproved by the lamb. The wolf ultimately decides that the lamb was related to those who wronged it, and ate it for that reason. The moral was any excuse serves a tyrant.
Lucy could think of nothing more she wanted to be at that moment.
"Come here, my lambs," she said happily. "Come to your inevitable slaughter."
I pack a chainsaw
I'll skin your ass raw
And if my day keeps going this way I just might break something tonight
"Hey, hey… What's going on with her?" one sheep said.
"So creepy… Didn't the police say they were looking for someone like that?" said another.
"She's got blood on her shirt!"
"Mommy, who is she?"
"Don't get close, stay behind me."
Pile it on, Lucy thought darkly. These are the last things you'll ever say, you dumb fucks.
One of the businessmen stepped forward, his arm extended. "Hey, do you need some help or something-"
His forearm snapped backwards at a ninety degree angle. He and everyone else stared at it stupidly for a moment.
I pack a chainsaw
I'll skin your ass raw
And if my day keeps going this way I just might break your fucking face tonight!
As if an invisible, gigantic lawn mower blade had been lowered amongst the crowd, the people standing closest around Lucy had their heads popped off. Others had the majority of their necks ripped open so that their heads limply hung down vertically on their shoulders. The bodies stumbled backwards, soaking the soon-to-be-dead in the blood rain.
Give me something to break
Lucy sprang into action before anyone could get a hold of themselves and escape. She jumped over to the remaining businessmen and smashed their faces in like dropped dinner plates. For good measure, she hacked off their limbs and bombarded these severed arms and legs at people who were starting to move away.
Give me something to break
Next she maneuvered over to the mother, who had one arm each on her two children. Lucy severed these arms and ripped the majority of the woman's front skin off. Her stomach and breasts jiggled, red muscle masses close to bursting open. She screamed in agony, blood drops flying out of her mouth and onto her children's cheeks, and then toppled backwards.
"You're scaring them," Lucy said coldly. She picked the two little boys up by the backs of their shirts and flung them into the nearby creek.
Just give me something to break
She turned around, proceeding to jump over to escaping residents and continuing the onslaught. The screams of the dying drew the attention of people from the nearby boarding houses and restaurants. They were no doubt calling the police. Lucy realized she had to wrap things up here.
How 'bout your fucking face?
The only one left was the old man on the bench. He had awoken at the first scream of the massacre, and could only watch in horror as the horned demon before him ripped and flayed everyone in its sight. His eyes went wide and he was on the verge of a heart attack when it turned to look at him.
Slowly the Diclonius approached him, her victims' blood running down her arms and legs. As she drew up to him, he didn't appear to be breathing much.
"You are by far the closest to death," she murmured, casting her red eye's glare down on him.
His eyes widened when he suddenly felt impaled through the chest. Then, his head started to tremble, for on his left cheek a flap of skin had been dug up. The entire skin across his face began to pull away, like a sticker being peeled off an apple. With the avulsion of the facial skin his nose and lips went as well. When it was gone his red, gelatinous, muscle-exposed face, remaining in an opened-jawed expression of horror, twitched and fell to his lap, blood coming out of the eye sockets and the bony slit where the nose had been. His body fell to the ground with a dull thud.
I hope you know I pack a chainsaw (what!)
A chainsaw (what!)
A motherfucking chainsaw (what!)
So come and get it
Lucy looked at the shriveled mask floating before her, then tossed it on the bench, where it hung like a wet wash cloth. "So very sad-looking…" she muttered.
It was then that she heard the far-off wail of police sirens, though they were fast approaching.
"Oh yes. Come and clean up your beloved civilians." She was almost ready to leave when she looked at the train tracks. They gave her an idea.
Walking over to the rails, she bent and twisted a piece of the metal bench out of the sidewalk and slashed it into two separate, trapezoidal shapes of metal. She positioned these on the tracks, propped so they were inverted with their points toward the train. These would surely derail it.
With that she was gone, leaping over a brick wall and behind buildings. Thirty seconds later a police car pulled up, with two Kamakura policemen climbing out.
"It was her," the gray-haired one in the beige-yellow overcoat said.
Meanwhile, back at the street below the Maple Inn, Kouta was looking around for Nyu, who had wandered off again and this time left a mess in the kitchen.
"Just where is she always going to…?" he wondered aloud. Way down one side of the street there appeared to be a car and several scattered objects that were unidentifiable at that distance. He was considering heading in that direction when, at that moment, he heard a rustling in the bushes from the other direction. He turned around to see Nyu walking slowly towards him.
"Ah, Nyu!" he called out. He started towards her, but when he got within fifteen feet he saw that she was covered in blood. She didn't look at him, but rather kept her dark gaze to the ground.
"Nyu…what…" Suddenly something bad, like a forgotten memory, began to bubble up inside him. He put his hands on his head, his eyes went wide, and he started to shudder. However, he was interrupted by a large, resounding metal screech and crashing. Screams went up from the neighborhood below.
It's all about the he says, she says bullshit
I think you better quit, letting shit slip
Or you'll be leaving with a fat lip
It's all about the he says, she says bullshit
I think you better quit, talking that shit
Punk, so come and get it
