SANDMAN: THE MANGA

Volume One: The Long Sleep

The Story So Far: Akurei Sama, leader of the Order of Ancient Mysteries, attempted to use an ancient scroll to summon Death and imprison it so that he might have eternal life. Instead, an error in the spell caused him to summon The King of All Nights Dreaming, the lord of dreams. Hoping to gain some use from the Lord of Sleeping, Akurei stripped him of his pouch of sand, kabuki mask, and giant ruby. In an attempt to gain protection from the rest of the Dream Lord's family, the Endless Ones, Akurei trading the items with various supernatural forces. Meanwhile, in the Realm of Dreaming, the nightmare known as Kougaku has discovered a mysterious dreamstone hidden inside himself. Using the stone's power to manipulate the realm of Dreaming, he began a quest to gather all thirteen and crown himself the new King of All Nights Dreaming.

Chapter Two: The Once and Future King

"You can't escape me, Baiorin!" he cried

The Kougaku strode forward, each step filled with arrogance. All around him, his flowing silver kimono billowed in the darkness. He no longer wore a cloth around his eyes. The shadows obscured most of his face. He advanced through the darkness in search of his quarry.

"You should just give up now, Baiorin!" he cried into the darkness. "I only need two more and I'll be as powerful as the Master himself! I've located you... the last one ought to be a matter of time! C'mon, I'll be a kind and generous king... if you cooperate. But if you fight me, I will bathe your body in acid rain and bring a heard of razor-toothed, grass-devouring cattle to your fields!"

The darkness did not answer him.

"Damn it!" cried Kougaku. "I've have had enough of your foolishness, Baiorin! Show yourself!!!" With this, energy flowed around Kougaku. His body began to glow. Exerting his will over the darkness, he reshaped it. The shadows twisted and spun. The Ocean of Shadows faded to reveal a charred and barren wasteland. Suddenly, in the distance, a portly old man could be seen running. Kougaku smiled.

"I found you," he said to himself.

Baiorin ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He didn't know where he was running, but he had to escape. He had to prevent Kougaku from stealing the dreamstone that lay imbedded in his essence. The Dreaming had deteriorated since Kougaku's campaign at a coup against the absent Dream King, and if he gained the power inside Baiorin, he feared the Dreaming would collapse entirely.

Suddenly, Kougaku appeared a foot in front of Baiorin. Baiorin couldn't stop in time and ran right into the demented nightmare. Kougaku didn't move. Instead, Baiorin fell back onto the ground. He landed hard.

"You can't run from me you fat little hamlet! I am the new King of All Nights Dreaming. This realm is mine to manipulate. There is nowhere you can run that I can't find you. But you won't need to worry about running anymore." Kougaku reached down, his hand open, as if to grab Baiorin.

In a flash, the old man disappeared. Suddenly, Kougaku found himself in the middle of a grassy plain filled with trees and flowing waves of grass. At first, he thought that he had been fooled somehow, and that Baiorin had sent him to a different realm of the Dreaming. But then, he remembered...

"Thought you could escape me by transforming into your true form!?" he cried to Baiorin's Field. "No matter. An essence is an essence no matter what shape it takes!" He reached down into the soil below him. He could feel the edge of a small gem...

And suddenly, he was back in the wasteland that was once his own realm, empty-handed. Kougaku's eyes darted to and fro looking for Baiorin's Field. He caught a glimpse of movement towards the horizon. "I grow tired of these games Baiorin!" Again, Kougaku appeared in a flash infront of the elderly man who was also Baiorin's Field. Baiorin stopped in his tracks.

"Don't you understand? You cannot stop the inevitable. Just like the ten before you, I will extract the dreamstone from your essence and return you to your rightful place in the Dreaming! We can do this the easy way, like I did with that tall and foul-mouthed fellow (he just handed it over, you know). Or we can do this like I did with his fat, stuttering brother. Do you want to end up like that Baiorin? Because I'd really like to see what a field of grass looks like turned inside out!"

"Fuck you!" cried Baiorin as he spit into the face of Kougaku.

The nightmare lurched forward, putting his face nose to nose with Baiorin's. Baiorin could now see his eyes. He had deep sockets. Inside each one, however, was not an eye... but a set of razor-sharp fangs. As Kougaku talked, all three mouths formed the words.

"No... FUCK YOU!"

Kougaku back-handed Baiorin violently. The portly old man flew back several yards, landing hard on the burnt and ash-gray ground. He looked up with an expression of pain obvious on his face. His eyes darted all around as Kougaku slowly advanced on him. He had no way out...

Baiorin jumped up quickly, and ran as fast as he could to his right. Kougaku stopped and followed with his line of sight to where Baiorin was running. He was shocked to see a distortion in his reality. The image of the horizon was blurred by a swirling mass of energy. Baiorin darted towards it and jumped through it... vanishing.

Kougaku slowly approached the vortex. He could feel the energy it exerted. As he came face to face with it, he raised a hand towards. Holding it open-palm towards the event horizon, he slowly pushed into it. Kougaku could feel the other side of the vortex. He slowly stepped through the portal...

Kougaku suddenly found himself in the middle of a busy street. He stood wide-eyed and confused. He didn't move, even as the taxi came barreling down on him. The driven slammed on the horn and hit the breaks, skidding forward towards Kougaku. It stopped mere inches from hitting him.

The driver got up and reached out through the window. He was a very agitated man. "Hey, you fuckin' asshole! Watch where you're going you dumbass! I oughtta run you over right now, son of bitch!"

Kougaku smiled all three mouths. "I don't know where I am... but I like this place!"

* * * *

Akurei Sama climbed slowly down the stairs. With each step, a 'click' echoed throughout the chamber. This was the noise of his cane as it hit the granite floor. He descended the stairs very slowly. His hands wobbled and he grasped the cane. His body was curled and bent and he walked forward. Finally, he reached the bottom of the floor. He slowly hobbled forwards towards his prisoner.

"Look at you," he said. His voice was shaky with age. "Do you know how old I am? I am 95 years old. Almost a century. Look at me. When I captured you, my hair was long and as black as yours. Now, I am bald save for the coarse gray hairs that grow from my nose and in my ears. My vision is blurry. My hearing is almost completely gone. I need this infernal cane just to walk a few feet. I stay in bed most of the time now. I am going to die soon. I know it. Yet look at you. Haven't aged a day since I caught you. Not one goddamn day. Well? Do you have anything to say for yourself? Any words of wisdom? A curse? A boast? No? Hah!"

"You know, the Order has forgotten all about you. They follow my son, Deshi, now. When I was in charge he was a foolish and headstrong child. Now, they call him 'Lord Densetsu.' Now, he is the wise old magus. It's ironic, no? Anyway, when he dies - which will probably be within this or the next decade - everyone who knows you exist will disappear. This room will be sealed off. You'll sit down here forever, rotting in your goddamn cage."

"I could let you out, you know. Even now. I could stick this wooden cane, and smudge the line and break the circle. I could, you know. I have no reason not to. I don't want to live forever now. What good is immortality if I have to live as a frail old man for the rest of existence? No, I have no reason to hold you here. What's the worst you could do? Kill me? Hah! That'd be doing me a favor. I'll be dead by the time the week is over anyway. No, I don't think I fear death. Actually, I think I'm looking forward to it. I'm the most wicked man alive, you know. The Lord of Demons. It'd be nice to see if I can live up to that title. But you know why I won't do it? Do you know why I won't free you, even now?"

The Lord of Dreams sat silent.

"I'll tell you! It's because your so goddamn quiet! I hate that! For over half a century I've been coming down here and you haven't said a goddamn word. Not one, 'let me out' or a single 'fuck you.' Nothing! It's creepy. That's what it is. I'm willing to forget everything and let you out. Right now. All you gotta do, is say something. It doesn't even need to be a word. Scream. Shout. Growl. Laugh. Anything! Just say something!" Akurei Sama looked off to the side of the chamber, a confused look across his face. "What was that? It sounded like fluttering."

The Lord of Dreams sat silent. He heard a drip. He turned to stare at the large pool of water that lay in the corner of the chamber. The pool was big enough now that it had become a watering hole for the rats. It was bigger than a puddle. With that last drop, the pool finally overflowed. The drop gave it the impetus to travel. A small stream formed and snaked its way slowly across the downward slanting floor. Finally, it reached the thin circle of salt. The force of the stream made the slightest break in the line.

Akurei Sama's eyes grew wide. He realized what was happening around him. "No!" he cried. A sharp pain ripped through his chest and down the left side of his body. He grasped at his breast, collapsing to the ground.

The circle exploded in a torrent of bright light. Slowly, yet filled with confidence, the naked King of All Nights Dreaming walked outside the circle. With a deep breath, he smiled for the first time in sixty years. "At... last!"

The Dream Lord walked over to body of Akurei Sama. He lay prone and motionless on the ground. He was dead. The Prince of Stories bent down and held the man's unconscious head in his hands. With strong pressure, he squeezed on the man's eyes. Suddenly, the Lord of Demons exploded into dust.

The King of the Unconscious World stood up. "Brother, you would rob me of my vengeance?" The shadows of the chamber did not respond. The Lord of Sand sighed. "Very well, then the sins of the father shall be exacted upon the son." The Lord of Dreams disappeared.

The aged Densetsu Sama lay troubled in his bed. Despite the mattress filled with the feathers of exotic birds, and the sheets made of the finest silk, Densetsu tossed and turned. Startled to the waking world, he reached down to the floor where his glass of water had stood. In the darkness, he felt the cup overturned, and the water spilt. Densetsu slowly got up out of bed. He had meant to get some more water. He found himself face to face with a pale-skinned, dark-haired stranger.

"W-who are you?" asked the Lord Densetsu.

"What is the matter?" asked the pale man. "Bad dreams?"

Densetsu's eyes widened. He backed away slowly, but found himself falling back on the bed. "Please don't kill me! I didn't do it! It was my father! I never wanted to--"

"Quiet!" cried the Lord of Dreams. "Your actions have betrayed you. For sixty years I lay still in the darkness and the cold. You sat in the lap of luxury, enjoying your money and your status. You would have left me down there, after the father's death. I would have been trapped until the wooden boards of this temple rotted and decayed, collapsing down on me and finally breaking the circle. You would have done this to me!"

"Is he dead?" asked the old man. "My father? I suppose so, if you're here now. So, do you plan on killing me now too?"

"I kill only to ensure my own life," stated the King of All Nights Dreaming in a cold, monotone manner. "You are no threat to me. Not now. I can, however, punish as I see fit."

The old Lord of the Order of Ancient Mysteries swallowed hard.

"My tools, where are they?" asked the pale Dream Lord.

"Y-your tools?"

"I suppose my robe vanished once it was taken from my body, vanishing back to the shadows. But I require the others. The mask. The pouch. The dreamstone. Where are they?"

"I... I don't know."

At this, the King of All Nights Dreaming seemed to swell, to encompass the whole room. Now, the stars that twinkled in his eyes were like exploding supernovas, spreading their eerie glow upon the tattered old Densetsu Sama, and his lavishly decorated bed chamber.

"T-they were traded away. By my father. The mask, the one made from bone. He traded it to a demon in the Realm of Jigoku. In return he set spells of protection for me and father, and the temple. From the rest of your kind. The rest of the Endless."

"Foolish mortal. It is not the way of my kind to interfere with each other. It is not given of us to interact on another's behalf, unprovoked. No harm from the Endless would have fallen on you or your pathetic temple. You threw my helm away for a shallow promise. No matter, which demon did he trade it to?"

"I-I don't know."

The pale man sighed. "Very well. My pouch. The one that contained the sands from the Desert of the Dreaming. Where is it?"

"Stolen. By a member of the Order. A man by the name of Kirisuto. I do not know his first name. He was a magician. Not like my father... a real magus."

"Better," admonished the Dream Lord. "And my ruby. What happened to my crimson dreamstone!?"

"I don't know. As far as I knew, my father never got rid of it."

"This... Kirisuto. Could he have stolen it as well?"

"No, I... I don't think so. After he left, father began to sleep with the dreamstone. To protect it. Perhaps it is still in the temple. Hidden?"

"No. I would feel it if it were here."

"Are you going to kill me now?"

"No." The King of Dreams thought for a moment. "You have trouble sleeping, don't you Lord Densetsu?"

"...Yes."

"Very well. I will give you a gift. Never again will you worry about waking. For you I give an eternity of dreams." With this, the elderly Lord of the Order of Ancient Mysteries fell to the bed, unconscious.

"You will never wake. You will be trapped in a dream. A dream of sleep. Every time you wake up, you will find that you are still sleeping. When you wake again, you will again discover you are sleeping. Your prison will have no respite. Your circle will not be broken. If you are lucky, you will starve to death. If not, one of your followers will find you in the morning and will keep you alive. Either way, I care not. I have other matters to attend to."

The Lord of Dreams concentrated. The shadows around the bed chamber of Densetsu twisted and swirled around his naked form. The shadows coalesced. They formed a flowing black kimono. The Dream Lord concentrated again. Slowly, he walked into the mind of Densetsu Sama. Densetsu's dreams were a door, and through them, the Opener of Doors managed to enter his own realm.

"Finally," said the Lord of Dreams as he walked across the dead gray grass of the Realm of Dreaming. He ascended to a peak of a hill. Once there, he would see the Temple of All Nights Dreaming; his palace. "I am... home?" The Dream King was startled at the sight of his temple. The midnight palace where he had sat and ruled for a millennia was in ruins. The bamboo had broken. The wood had decayed. The temple had been destroyed.

* * * *

The fat and sweaty man who called himself Tanoshimu clumsily fumbled with the keys to his apartment. He flipped through his key ring until he found the shiny brass key. He quickly inserted it into the key hole, turned it, and opened the door. He dashed inside and slammed the door, locking it again. He flicked the light switch.

Now, Tanoshimu slumped against the door and let out a sigh. In the light of his small apartment, the blood smeared on his clothes became apparent. He closed his eyes and smiled. He had had another successful night. The urge was now gone. He was normal again.

"Which one was it, tonight?"

Tanoshimu turned, startled. He was shocked to see a lanky young man with long, silver hair, dressed in a fine new gray suit. His eyes were obscured by small round sunglasses. A devilish smile was on his face. He sat on the little counter that made up the kitchen of Tanoshimu's tiny apartment.

"Which one was it? A delicate young girl, full of sugar and spice? Or a feisty little boy, full of..." The man paused. "I forget? What is it little boy's are made of? On the inside? You would, of course, know best off all."

"W-who are you?" asked Tanoshimu. His voice quivered. His knees were shaking. "H-how did you get in here?"

"I go where I please. As for your first question..." The silver-haired man hopped down off the counter. He strode forward towards Tanoshimu. The fat, sweating man could see his own distorted reflection in the man's glasses. "I think you already know."

Tanoshimu's eyes widened further. "No. It... it can't be. They're just dreams. Just..."

"Do you have what I asked for?" asked the silver-haired man.

Not even knowing why, Tanoshimu reached into his pocket. He pulled out two small, bloody orbs. His hand shaking, yet seemingly acting of its own accord, reached forward and deposited the two red balls into the outstretched hand of the strange, silver-haired man.

The silver-haired man discretely tilted back his head and removed his glasses. The shadows obscured Tanoshimu's view of his eyes, but he knew... deep down... what was happening. Pushing his hand up to his eye sockets, the silver-haired man put back his glasses and turned to look at Tanoshimu.

"I wasn't sure you'd do it, you know," said the silver-haired man with a smile. "I knew you'd go hunting tonight. I just wasn't sure that you'd bring me back my... souvenirs. I'm glad that my message made itself clear."

"Just a dream," muttered the fat, disheveled man. "You... you're just a dream."

"I have a new job for you, my little minion." The silver-haired man reached into the inside of his crisp new suit. He produced two seemingly ancient pieces of scroll. He handed them over to the fat man. Tanoshimu grasped the papers hesitantly, then drew them to his face.

The first piece of scroll had a drawing, seemingly made in some lavish brush-strokes. it made the picture of an impossibly realistic man. He was old, in the sixties perhaps, though his eyes made him look much older. His hair was gray. Tanoshimu silently marveled at how colorful the black and white drawing was. Underneath the picture, in elegant writing, was written 'BAIORIN.'

Tanoshimu shifted to the next piece of paper. It was another drawing, fabulously rendered. It was a jewel, perfect in every sense. Again, though the picture was black ink on yellowed parchment, the fabulous glow of the red stone seemed to glitter in the light of the apartment. Tanoshimu looked back at the silver-haired man.

"You're real, then?"

"More real than you could possibly imagine." The man smiled. "I need you to find me those two things. You can do that for me, can't you?"

Tanoshimu nodded, slowly.

"Good, good." The silver-haired man began to walk slowly into the shadows. He stopped and spun around. "By the way, I may not know what they are made of..." He pulled down his glasses. Tanoshimu could see his eyes. They were bloody and had a speck of lint from Tanoshimu's own pockets. And they were framed, all around, by razor-sharp teeth. "But I must say, the little boys taste wonderful." He readjusted his glasses and turned back to head into the shadows. As he disappeared, Tanoshimu heard a whisper in his ears.

"Sweet dreams..."

To be continued...

NEXT: 'In Dreams'