Before You Enter The Maze…

DisclaimerGensomaden Saiyuki belongs solely to Minekura Kazuya and whoever else may share its legal rights. This story was written without permission; my only purpose is to pay tribute and entertain other fans. No profit has been made, or will ever be made, with it.

The poem The Silent Scream belongs solely to Nightdweller.

Warning – For homosexual themes, foul language, sexual harassment, racial bigotry (human vs. youkai), violence, torture, and rape. If any of the above offends or disturbs you, be mature and hit your back button instead of hitting me. My concern with your sensibility ends where my freedom of speech begins.

Author's Note – The hero's mythic journey has a somber version: the nekyia—from the Greek vekuia (vekus, corpse), after the eleventh chant of Homer's Odyssey. It describes a descent into darkness, a plunge into the unconscious, a peregrination through Death's realm. The Anthill is the second installment of a trilogy that follows this premise and if you have not read The Maze, what comes next will make very little sense to you.

My deepest, sincerest thanks to my betas Willow and Procyon, and a special bow to dear Softwelshrain, who helped me with this final version.

The Maze II: The Anthill

Evermore impounded inside the belly of the beast,

I am diseased,

I am plagued,

I am wrought with the madness

Which consumes me piece by piece.

The Silent Scream, by Nightdweller

Chapter 1

The full moon lit the path for the group that escorted a decrepit vehicle to the top of the hill. Locked in darkness, folded legs on a higher level than his chest, Gojyo was aware only of a continuous climbing motion. The awkward angle kept pushing his weight onto his tied hands, and he tried to ease the pressure on his bad arm by sitting on his right hip. At least such a predicament made it impossible for him to give in to the wicked temptation to lean forward and feel with the tip of his nose how terrifyingly tight his space was. Also, it helped to take his mind off the stench that permeated the wooden trunk.

Had someone bled to death in here? It seemed so—it smelled so.

To keep panic at bay, he forced himself to think of his teammates. Sanzo was looking for him. Sanzo was coming for him. That guy Zhou Jun had dispelled all his malformed doubts when mentioning the word 'monk'—because there were many monks in this world, but only one who had anything to do with a certain Sha Gojyo. Gojyo tilted his head back, pleased with the connection. Estranged as they were at the moment, it still felt very good to fit his and Sanzo's names together in the same sentence: Gojyo & Sanzo, Sanzo & Gojyo. And Hakkai, since an existence without Hakkai was unconceivable. And Goku, since wherever Sanzo went that baka would follow. Sanzo & Gojyo & Hakkai & Goku. They made a good team, each adding to the others' strengths, each balancing the others' weaknesses. For the first time in his life, Gojyo was part of a whole. For the first time, he belonged.

So, so stupid to risk all that!

Tomorrow I'll apologize to Sanzo, he promised himself. I'll tell him I won't 'play games' anymore. And he'll give me another chance. Please, gods, make him give me another chance. I don't want any more fights, I don't want more hatred; just being with him will be enough. Hakkai will help me with this, I know he will.

Hakkai.

Gojyo's stomach churned. He could still hear the muffled sounds of Hakkai's suffering, the soldiers' laughter, and the uncanny blend of both, echoing endlessly in the empty corridors. Hakkai had been almost unconscious the last time Gojyo had seen him.

Sanzo, you corrupt monk, you had better help Hakkai first. Otherwise, I'm going to throttle you, I'm—

He was thrown violently against his bad shoulder, and for a while any coherent thought disappeared. There was pain and pain alone, bursting white spots behind his clenched eyelids. Not bothering to tone down his moans, he slumped back to his previous position, tasting bile.

Don't you dare! Don't you dare puke here in this hearse!

Shit, but the stench! As had happened to the wooden boards of the coffin-like trunk in which he had been locked—wood that once had vital sap running through it—the noxious stench now seemed to pervade his body, replacing blood with rottenness…

Where was I again? Hakkai. Now, Gojyo pal, Hakkai will be fine. No one, human or demon, is as tough and as smart as he is. Besides—

An agonizing spasm in his left arm was followed by a cramp in his belly, and he brought his legs closer, grinding his teeth.

Besides, besides… Oh gods, besides what? Fuck, I can't puke in here! Ah, yes, besides I felt Hakkai earlier. It was so strange, so crazy, but he was there, with me…

It had not lasted more than a few seconds. Bully-san and his men had dragged him through a subterraneous passage to the stables and Gojyo, knowing he was being separated from Hakkai, had tried to fight. The humans had just whipped his legs until he could not stand any longer. Curled on the dirty floor, he had been vaguely aware of a scraping sound, like old, worn wheels needing oiling and alignment. And then Hakkai had been there with him, caressing his hair, calming his fears… He had raised his head to look at his friend—only to find the darkness of this trunk, already wide open in front of him like Death's jaws. Much to his shame, he had recoiled with a choked scream. The soldiers had laughed, and Hakkai… Hakkai was no longer at his side.

It hadn't been just a dream. It hadn't!

Suddenly, the struggle uphill gave way to an almost smooth ride. The horses' clopping indicated that they were now on a paved surface. Gojyo tensed and tried to unfold his sore legs, his only available weapons now. It appeared that this particular journey was coming to an end.

When the cart finally halted, he could hear voices. Arguing, this time. And it was good to know that not everything was humorous about those bastards' dirty job.

"…can't accept prisoners without a superior officer's signature on the proper transfer papers," someone was saying. "You know this better than anyone, Chen Dan-san!"

Chen Dan.

Yes, that was Bully-san's real name.

"I don't remember being asked for papers for the youkai family I brought you two days ago," came the loud, angry answer.

"That case was different, Sergeant!" Whoever this fellow was, he sounded equally incensed. "If you took this youkai to Captain Wu Tai first, it must be because there's a human involved, right? So, the creature is your captain's responsibility until he signs it over to us—"

"I know that the regs are changing again, Private. And about time! So shove your lectures and get out of my way! I'm going to see the Colonel."

Despite everything, Gojyo chuckled. Bully-san was a very charming person, indeed.

"Changing? Who told you—Chen Dan-san, wait!" The voice grew distant, fainter. "You're making a mistake!"

"Which, I hope, will screw you up for good, fucker," Gojyo mumbled. "Sanzo is coming and I want to see you bullshit him."

As minutes ticked by, though, expectancy gave way to total, complete exhaustion.

And there was no Sanzo.

He lost all sense of time in the confining blackness, becoming just a hurt, worn-out body struggling to breathe.

And there was no Sanzo.

He sagged against the fetid boards of the trunk, too tired to keep his head up. Again and again he was awakened from his torpor by an excruciating spasm darting through his injured arm; and then he would mutter a protest that was a moan, a sob, and a muted scream. It was the only answer his fogged mind could give to the misery that defined his entire world now.

At one point, he gave up on his battle, leaned forward, and vomited. There was not much in his stomach, mainly the remains of the impromptu afternoon picnic under the dying trees. Sliding back into place, he huddled as far away as possible from the mess. So hot in here, so unbearably hot… He was going to suffocate… And his bladder…

Oh gods, oh Merciful Gods Above, he really, seriously had to piss!

There was a rusty noise to his left, and then a blast of fresh air hit him.

"Buddha!" The soldier who had opened the hatch to his trunk stepped back quickly. "Why do these creatures stink so much? Are they rotten inside or what?"

Laughter. More cruel jokes about youkai nature and general youkai filthiness. Gojyo did not pay them attention; all that mattered was that blessedly fresh air, so he crawled to the opening and poked his head through it, gasping and shivering.

A soft breeze started stroking his hair.

"Hakkai…" Please, be well!

The sudden, loud explosions caused him to jump and clumsily sit with his legs dangling from the cart. They were on the very top of the hill, in the inner courtyard of what seemed to be a fortress—he remembered spotting this structure upon the Sanzo-ikkou's arrival—and the view from such a height was breathtaking. Countless fireworks burst, fountains of color sending to the heavens wave upon wave of joyful dancing lights, and it was like being in the eye of a powerful divine manifestation. Even the soldiers were appreciating the spectacle, cheering and clapping each other's backs, prisoner and nervous horses forgotten.

"Hey, Mou-san, it's already midnight! Where's the sergeant? He's missing quite a show—"

Everything else was drowned out by another surge of lights, brighter and more deafening than the first. The whole hill seemed to be striving to break free from the earth and rise towards the sky in a lurid, jubilant guffaw.

Gojyo knew he would not have a better chance to escape. Measuring the distance that separated him from the fortress's outer open gates, he readied himself to hit the even cobblestones of the courtyard and run for his life.

A shadow grew ominously in his direction, the drawn gun just an elongated, distorted extension of its bearer's hand. Gojyo took in the grotesque figure projected on the ground, lifted his eyes to Bully-san's, and his mind went blank—his failing body unable to respond to his brain's half-formed order to fight-or-flee.

"Mou! Hu!" Bully-san spat. "Stop fooling around and take this thing inside. Now!"

Gojyo was seized by his ankles and wrenched out of the cart. Without any means of protecting his injury, he landed directly on his tied hands. There was not enough air in his lungs to free his howl, so he choked, tears of pain running down his face. In an attempt to regain control over his full bladder, he tried to cross his legs and bring them closer to his stomach, though harsh hands were already in his hair, pulling him up. He knew he should cooperate, that more would be in store if he did not, but his knees would not lock to support his weight. An angry order was barked, and the two soldiers were on him again, grabbing his forearms. He screamed then, feeling the tight grip closing on the very core of his suffering. Like a semi-drowned man, he was half-marched half-carried to the entrance of the fortress and shoved towards a waiting group.

He could not understand what they were saying. He could not fight. He could not even conjure a swearword to throw at them.

Pain.

It was all he was now.

But Bully-san was leaving, and his last connection with Hakkai would be severed. Anxiously, Gojyo turned his head back to follow the human's departure, watching as he was framed by the eerie, painted night sky. "Wait!" he managed to croak. "I have a message for Genjo San—"

With a loud noise, the massive door was closed, and all color and light of the universe were gone, sealing in the last syllable of Sanzo's name.