"C'mon, let's escape!" His own words still rang clearly in his ears, as if he had just said them. "We'll leave this place, go back to the real world!" What on earth was he thinking when he said that? He'd seen how locked down the prison was, especially when it came to G Block. No one came in, no one went out. Until today. They had the willpower, they had the motivation, and they had the innocence to get by in the normal world.
Well, he might not. He was some twisted kind of celebrity now. Everyone in Nagano - maybe even all of Japan - knew his face. And where could they go? Tokyo was still a barren wasteland, a shell of its former self. They didn't just have to make it out of the park; there was an entire city to escape.
But they could worry about that later. For now, escaping Deadman Wonderland was priority number one.
Ganta's eyes darted around the hallway. What little light crept through the walls was barely enough to see five feet in front of him. Minatsuki followed him in tow, her wrist enveloped in his grip. "You sure you know where we're going?" she asked.
"Not really," he answered. "I'm sort of making this up as I go."
"Well, that's reassuring."
He racked his brain for something, for anything. He'd found his way into G Block once already, so how could he get out?
All you have to do is nudge the grates out of the way and you can go anywhere!
The ventilation system! They'd taken it into the sewers of the prison and onto the war path in G Block. When they met the Crow. But he was tranquilized when they took him in... there wasn't a chance in hell that he could remember the way they dragged him.
"Look out!"
She caught his attention, as did the crashing sound of broken steel from overhead. He looked up, the falling pipes descending onto the two adolescents. Instinctively, he lunged toward Minatsuki, forcing their bodies into the wall. An edge of the beam sliced into the leg of his pants, tearing a hole in the fabric.
They collapsed against the wall. After a few moments, Ganta opened his eyes. That scent from before flooded his nostrils. It was the aroma from her room, of all the different varieties of flowers she kept with her. A softer skin brushed against his face. "Um..." Her voice was a whisper, accented with a tinge of embarrassment. It was only then when he realized just where his face was buried.
His cheeks flushed bright red, and he scrambled away from her onto his hands. "Uh... um..." His face stiffened, trying to find something to say. Dammit, why didn't I pay attention to Yamakatsu more often?
She pulled the collar of her shirt further up her shoulders, protecting her modesty, and patted down her dress as she stood. "Just... let's keep moving, yeah?" He accepted her extended hand, and she pulled him to his feet. Something inside him said that she could be trusted. She was different from the other Deadmen. Caring, sincere... honest.
"I... I think I might know a way out." He looked down the rest of the hallway. Surely a way out was somewhere along these walls. "You alright with getting your hands dirty?"
Minatsuki nodded. "If it means we can get out of here, any day."
"Alright. We need to get into the vents or sewers. I think we can take those outside." He turned on his heel, granting the same offer she'd given him. It was all that he could do, and she had to trust him if she wanted to get out of this hell. She gave him her wrist, and they took off again.
The dank walls flashed by in a blur. Droplets of water fell from overhead, leaking through the poorly maintained structures. As if they had a reason to care about scum like them anyways. In this world, survival was the only game you really played. If you couldn't stand on your own, then the living conditions were the least of your worries.
"Hey!" The gruff voice echoed down the corridor, ringing through their ears. "What are you two doing out here?"
Ganta turned his head, keeping up the pace. A lone guard had drawn his rifle, aiming at the runaways. He fired a few rounds at their feet, but neither runaway wavered. Ganta bit his thumb hard, a trickle of blood running down his wrist. Throwing Minatsuki behind him, he pooled it together in his palm, launching a single bullet at the guard. The guard clicked a small switch on the hand guard of his rifle and fired again. A blast of compressed air ripped Ganta's bullet apart, reducing it to nothing more than a splatter on the floor.
"Minatsuki, get back!" Ganta released her from his grip, gathering another sample of his blood. He held his wrist steady and attacked, sending a flurry of shots flying at their pursuer. The guard sheathed his rifle and pulled a small knife from his hip. With a series of swings, each bullet dissipated just like the first.
Ganta felt himself growing weaker. He hadn't eaten since before Senji's penalty game, and anemia was starting to set in. "Why isn't it working?" he growled. "How is he he doing that?"
Minatsuki tugged on his arm. It was her turn to play leader. She pulled him back. "Don't try and fight him! Let's just get out of here!"
She was right, and he knew it. They turned and ran, taking what little time they had before the guard could start chasing again. A connecting hallway lay just ahead. Ganta cut hard to his left, pulling both of them into the hallway. They stood flat against the wall. Fear started to overcome Ganta. How was he supposed to fight back? "What are we gonna do?" he asked under his breath.
Minatsuki turned her gaze toward him, watching him panic out of the corner of her eye. She wanted to play leader, and now was her chance. She tapped him on the shoulder and put a finger to her lips. Part of her wasn't sure how ready she was to show him this side of her. Sure, she'd been playing mind games with him already, but she wanted to wait for him to know the truth.
Please, don't hate me, she thought. Not yet, at least.
The guard's footsteps edged closer. He clicked his rifle back into ammunition mode. These Deadmen had shot at one of their betters, and he would make real dead men for that.
Minatsuki reached for one earring and pulled, ripping a hole in the cartilage. Blood oozed out of the tiny wound and into her hair. No going back now.
The guard rounded the corner, weapon at the ready. He caught a glimpse of the devil's flowing locks before his skin ignited with a series of lashes. The pain set in, and he fell to his knees, his rifle falling to the floor.
"Yeah, that's what I like to see," Minatsuki sneered. "A man in his rightful fucking place." She threw her hair around his helmet and tossed it to the side with a clang. The look in his eyes was delicious. He showed so much swirling emotion: terror, sorrow, regret, self-contempt. She licked her lips, the ball of her tongue piercing rolling along her teeth. "Oh my God, that face..." She let out a quiet, primal groan. "Oh, yes! You really know how to get a girl off, don't you?"
He said nothing.
"What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" She directed a tentacle into his mouth, gripping his tongue. "Oh, wait, that's me!" she cackled. A stream of blood wrapped around his neck, and another tightened across his waist to restrain his arms. She smiled. "Hard to fight back against a girl who hits at the speed of sound, huh? Don't worry, I'll make sure it's a mistake you'll never make again!" She lashed at him, whipping his back and head with her free strands.
Ganta watched wide-eyed. "Minatsuki?" he whispered. He'd fought the guard earlier, but this wasn't just self-defense. This was borderline torture. "Minatsuki, stop! This isn't you!"
She craned her neck, putting him on the edge of her peripheral. "This isn't me?" she said through clenched teeth before erupting into maniacal laughter. "You don't even know the half of it, shrimp. You really fucking think you know me after one bullshit sob story? What a dashing knight in his shining armor, caring for the damsel in distress." A stream of blood fired at Ganta's neck, pinning him against the wall. "Newsflash, dipshit, people lie! Everyone lies."
The guard screamed in agony as she tightened her grip on him. She freed his tongue and covered his mouth, muffling his cries of terror. His ribs started to crack under the pressure on his chest. A trickle of fluid started to well between her legs, the arousal of her prisoner's pain flooding her body. Her whip squeezed harder, and his trembling only stimulated her more.
"Yes, yes, yes!" she cried. "That's it! That's the good stuff!" Surges of pleasure rushed down her spine. Her blood responded in turn, constricting her prey into an ever-tighter death grip.
Ganta struggled against her hold on his neck. She was slowly restricting his airflow. Would she actually kill him? Or was this just some other sick way for her to get off? He wasn't willing to take that risk. But he couldn't afford to try hitting her with his own attack, unless he wanted to pass out for sure.
Her screams of ecstasy evolved into something more guttural, into a low, rolling moan of bliss. At the same time, the guard's own outcries permeated through his muzzle. Tears welled in her eyes, and a thin stream of saliva crawled down her chin. Her surroundings blurred as she pumped more blood into her hair. She was close... she could feel it. Just one more push would do it.
But where was the fun in that?
The pressure on the guard's chest lessened, and his screams faded into pants and gasps for air. Minatsuki's own pleasure subsided. The torrent of indulgence dissipated. Then, as she felt the last ember start to cool, she turned on the ignition again, and her captive responded in turn.
Ganta realized that he had to try and stop her. "Minatsuki!" he shouted. "Please!"
"Stop?" she asked sarcastically. "But he would've killed us, given the chance. And he'll have to suffer the consequences." She met the guard's gaze. His pupils shrank, leaving almost nothing but his iris behind. In his final moments of pure, unrelenting terror, she decided that he'd suffered enough.
She crushed her victim's ribcage, shards of bone tearing holes in his lungs and heart. The vibrations of his dying shriek rippled through the bloodstream and back into her cartilage, echoing beneath her skin across her body. With that, she lost all control. Her orgasm rocketed through her body, the tremors echoing into her limbs alongside his voice.
For a moment, she only stood there, pupils dilated and senses heightened, arms hanging at her sides. She retracted her blood back into her veins. Both Ganta and the guard fell to the floor, one gasping for air and the other nearing death. Minatsuki breathed a sigh of relief. She looked down; her dress was stained from the ordeal with both the guard's blood and her own secretions, but that was something she'd gotten used to.
"What the hell was that?" Ganta screamed. "You trying to kill me or something?"
She turned her head back to him. He was still clutching his neck, massaging the red marks from where she had him pinned against the wall. This wasn't a familiar sight. When was the last time one of her victims survived? Years, maybe? She replaced her earring. The wound would heal with time, like it always did.
"Sorry you had to see that." She kept her voice hushed. He stayed on the ground, so she met his eye level. "You were just being a little prissy-boy, and I had to do something."
That wasn't just doing something, though. She tortured the guy, and for what? Not just self-defense, that much was certain. Her reaction told the full story: it was a sexual thrill. What kind of sick girl is this? he thought. But the words wouldn't come to his mouth that way. "So you killed him?"
"Ganta, people die in this place all the time. If you haven't realized that, then you're even more of a dumbass than I thought." She stood back up. "Now get the fuck back on your feet and let's blow this joint."
He wasn't sure what to think of her. The Minatsuki he'd met in her room was shy, reserved, and had a caring side. Now, she'd shown him a side of her that not many lived to talk about: sex-crazed, sadistic, and merciless. Not to mention that she confessed to lying to him. Could he continue on with her? He sure as hell couldn't trust her, at least not completely.
"Only if you give me an explanation once we're out," he said.
She rolled her eyes. "Sure, whatever. Just... get a move on, okay?"
At least he would have that to look forward to. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that they had to stick together. Even if she didn't mean to, she'd protected him. That was better than nothing.
He planted his palm on the floor, using it for support to stand up again. His neck was still a little sore, but that would fade. "Right," he said. She detected a hint of doubt, but she didn't expect anything less. He looked at the guard one more time. The corpse was evidence of their escape, but that didn't really matter anymore. "Let's get out of here."
She kicked out her hip, placing her hand on it. "Well, Romeo. You said you had the plan. Lead the way."
Ganta looked down the hallway. This one was darker than the main one, but they might still be able to make use of it. He started walking, and Minatsuki followed close behind him. His hand traced along the outer wall, just so he wouldn't bump into anything unexpected. All sorts of questions kept racing through his head. Who was this girl? How much had she not told him?
"I'm not like that normally." Her voice caught him off-guard. He turned his head to face her. She kept her eyes locked on the ground. "Not that crazy, at least."
"Well, you seem at least a little calmer now," he answered. "What was that back there?"
"It's another side of me. Much darker. But... I guess you already figured that out."
"That's an understatement. You had me pinned against the wall." He averted his eyes back in front. "I was almost afraid you'd kill me, too."
"No, no. I wouldn't do that." She felt the tinges of Hummingbird coming out in her again. "Well... she might have. But I wouldn't!"
She? "You talk about her... like she's different."
Minatsuki nodded, nothing more than a formality in the darkness. "It's part of the Branch. Everyone changes a little bit once they realize they have it."
"I don't know about that." Images of the classroom massacre flashed before his eyes. The sight of the Red Man holding Mimi's severed head would probably haunt him forever. "I can't say I've changed that much." Or, at least, he didn't think he had.
"Don't know you well enough to say. You looked like shit in your fight with Senji." She reached for the sleeve of his uniform. Her loose grip was a simple gesture. She wanted to reassure him that she wasn't the monster he saw earlier. "You always like that?"
"Whaddaya mean?"
"You went down. Everyone thought you were a goner. Would've been lame as hell, to be honest." She thought back to the gladiators' ring, when Crow showed Ganta his webbed blade extensions. He fell from the tree, and the fight was presumed over. But Ganta found the strength to get back up, to keep on fighting. And he beat him. "You haven't figured out who your Woodpecker is yet, have you?"
"My... Woodpecker?" He stopped for a moment and arched his brow at her.
"Everyone loses themself in the ring. Think of it like an alter ego. We just call them by the names they give us." She counted the names on her fingers. "Mockingbird, Crow, Owl, Woodpecker, Game Fowl... Come the fuck on, you know what I mean."
Ganta blinked his eyes at her rapidly. "Uh... yeah, sure."
"Whatever. You'll figure it out one day."
A thought occurred to him. "Wait, what's your name?"
She held her hand against her chest. "Hummingbird. We were supposed to fight tomorrow."
Part of him wanted to lash out at her for not telling him sooner, but he kept his calm. "Guess I should count myself lucky, then, huh?" From what he'd seen of her Branch so far, he would rather not be on her bad side.
A hollow thud echoed beneath his feet. He signaled her to stop and fell to his knees, examining the floor's surface with his free hand. A few square grooves formed in the cold metal, surrounded by a thin ring. He tried to lift from the outer ring and found that it came up easily. The stench of stagnant water wafted up from the new hole in the floor, coupled with the sound of crashing waves.
Ganta stood and started to remove the upper half of his uniform. He wrapped it around his waist, tying the sleeves together to hold it in place. Miyazaki groaned. "You can't be fucking serious."
"You said you were fine with getting your hands dirty." He sat on the edge of the sewer entrance, feet dangling over the surface. "And here's your chance at freedom."
He jumped into the stream of filth below, rolling to break his fall. She took one look over the edge, then back down to her dress. A disgusted sigh escaped her lips. "Covered in blood and cunt juice and I'm worried about a little shit on my dress." She sat down on the lip just like he did. "Girl, you are one crazy motherfucker."
