I've got a few things to say for this chapter
One: I completely revamped the first chapter of this story, and parts of the following chapters. I wasn't happy with the initial execution, so I redid it. This story now takes place 4 months after the events of Namek
Two: I wanted to give a huge shoutout to both KDAM and my irl best friend Eileen. You both have been awesome for the past several months and I appreciate all the feedback you've given me! Thank you so much!
Three: Once this fic is done, would you guys like to see me do an Abridged version of it? Like, what I imagine it'd be like if it was part of the actual show and TeamFourStar abridged it? Let me know (it'd be an interesting mix of horror and humor)
Chapter 6: Perfect Machine (Part 3)
Show me your insides
Show me your secrets
Show me what you desire
I can fake it
Show what you wanted
So I can be it
And if I bend just right
I can make it
The beautiful yet haunting melody echoed off the apartment walls, though Yamcha could barely hear it over the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears. It felt ridiculous. He had already faced more than a couple of monstrous creatures in this town, so the prospect of another one shouldn't unnerve him like this. Still, he couldn't help it.
The music box grew louder after a few seconds. Keeping the flashlight in one hand, Yamcha gulped down his fears and practically ripped the door open. He rapidly scanned the hallway, which was in an identical state to his family's apartment, for any sign of another creature. He didn't see anything, but that didn't stop the music box from proudly playing its song.
The sound of footsteps reached his ears, and he turned his head to the left where it was coming from. The music box grew louder again, and within seconds, whatever had set it off stepped into the edge of his light.
In contrast to the last few monsters, which were all humanoid in appearance, the creature resembled a dog. It was small, not quite a puppy but not quite an adult either, probably the size of a young German Shepherd. The creature was scrawny and had its back arched, its coat was snow-white and thin, its ears looked like they had been cut off, and it had no nose or tail. Bloated, fungi-like growths covered its body, making it look sickly and cancerous. One eye looked like it had been gouged out with the hole closed and bleeding, while the other had a black sclera with no pupil and a bright blue iris that seemed to pierce Yamcha's very soul. Its mouth had been slit open from the sides, ending where its ears should be and revealing a row of sharp fangs and a few jaw muscles. A long, reddish-pink tongue slithered out from its mouth, and it looked like its abdomen had been slit open, with the creature's guts spilling out and being dragged on the ground, leaving behind a trail of blood wherever it went.
The dog creature let out a gurgling snarl before lunging towards Yamcha, baring its fangs and ready to attack. Though a bit surprised, Yamcha rushed to the side before the creature could touch him, and didn't hesitate to deliver a powerful kick to the creature's side the moment its paws touched the filthy carpet.
The sound of cracking filled the air, alongside the creature letting out a loud whimpering whine, stumbling around as it did so. For a moment, Yamcha felt guilt pool in his stomach. This creature was reminding him too much of an actual dog, and the animal lover in him was starting to come out.
But then the creature let out a murderous growl as it turned around and limped back towards Yamcha at a rapid pace. The ex-bandit had to mentally slap himself. No matter how humanoid or animal-like these creatures might seem, he couldn't forget that they were monsters, that they were all out for his blood. If there's one thing that Kioku Town made clear, it was kill or be killed. If he wanted to survive, let alone find his sister and childhood friend, he needed to remember that.
The dog-like creature lunged at him again, and this time, Yamcha made sure to be quick as he moved out of its way before suddenly reappearing at the dog's side and forcefully slamming it into the wall. A loud snap filled the air and the creature slumped to the ground motionless, and the music box quickly grew quiet before becoming completely silent.
Yamcha sighed quietly as he stood back up, looking the creature's corpse over. If he was being honest, it looked so pitiful like this, its body obviously diseased and now laying the way a normal dog would probably sleep. He shook his head. There was no time to focus on that.
Yamcha abandoned the corpse as he took off down the hallway, heading down the rotting stairs and making it to the exit door at the end of the first hallway in record time. He reached into his bag to find the padlock as soon as he stopped in front of the door. But as he rummaged around, his hand came into contact with…something. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but the texture was somewhere between grainy and powdery.
He tried to grab ahold of whatever it was and pulled his hand out to examine it, and was surprised to see dark, ashy stains on his hand. What the hell? He reached back into the bag to see if he had missed the actual object, but stopped when his fingers came into contact with the padlock key. Right. He had to remember what he was doing. He couldn't get distracted.
Yamcha pulled the key out and placed it in the padlock, hearing the familiar click as it unlocked. Satisfied, he pulled the padlock off the door and tossed it aside, but paused as he watched the key suddenly turn to ash and completely flake away to the floor. Wait…Ash?
He looked down at the material still covering his hand, and that's when he remembered that he had put the key to his family's apartment in the bag…
"Oh, what the hell?" Yamcha groaned out, deciding he wasn't even going to question it at this point. Who knows, maybe this was Kioku Town's weird, twisted way of saying that he no longer needed those keys or whatever.
Regardless, he had more important things to worry about. Yamcha zipped up the leather jacket halfway up, just enough to keep him warm in the brumal weather, and pushed the door open.
OoOoOoO
The bloodstained snow crunched beneath Yamcha's steps as he made his way down the street. His flashlight only penetrated the darkness by a few feet, but so far, he hadn't run into any monsters, if the music box's silence was anything to go by. The journey from the apartments had been peaceful thus far, but still, he knew he couldn't be too cautious at this point. He needed to be ready in case another creature decided to pop up.
It didn't take long for him to come to a crossway in the street. Having memorized where to go on the map, Yamcha turned right and headed down that street quickly. Perfect. Now all he needed was to find the alleyway and he'd be at Geppei Prison in no time at all.
There it was. Yamcha headed towards the entrance, almost immediately identifying the shops it was located between. It looked barely big enough for two people to squeeze through, and a tall chain-link gate served as a door to the alleyway, just waiting to be opened. But just as he was about to reach for the gate and push it open, something caught his eye. Yamcha looked down, seeing a single pipe wrench resting against the wall in front of the gate. It looked to be rather old and was a bit worn out and rusted up.
Nevertheless, it caught Yamcha's attention and he bent down to pick it up in his free hand. Perhaps…He could use it as a weapon? He wasn't going to be using his chi, after all, and while he was one of the most powerful warriors on the planet, what if he ran into a monster that could poison or greatly wound him if he simply touched them? That emaciated creature at the lake had spat acidic bile at him, so it wasn't entirely out of the question.
With his new weapon placed securely in the messenger bag, Yamcha pushed the gate open, hearing it let out a loud, rusted shriek as he passed it and made his way into the alleyway. Based on what the map showed him, it was a simple shortcut: head straight into the alleyway, turn right, turn left, and the exit will be straight ahead.
To his surprise, the alleyway was…clean. There was simply no other way to describe it. A few pipes ran up the walls, and there was some old trash such as empty alcohol bottles and garbage bags here and there, but the alleyway was free of any blood or grim or even snow. It looked as if the alleyway had just been built, and hadn't been given enough time to become filthy.
If his mind wasn't so clouded with confusion at everything happening already, Yamcha would've grown a bit suspicious at the sight. But right now, all he could focus on was the thought of Sencha and Tenshi. He needed to get to the prison right away. This little 'alleyway mystery' could wait.
It didn't take long to come to the end of the first section of the alleyway, turning right into the opening that led to the second section. To Yamcha's right, there was a single neon sign consisting of the words 'Osake's Bar' in a circle on the wall that, to his astonishment, was lit up, bathing this part of the alleyway in a soft purple glow. Again, he probably should've questioned it, but just like before, he shelfed his curiosity.
There was a single door just a few feet away from the neon sign, though the knob had been broken off and looked to have no other way to open it. The sight wasn't given more than a passing glance by Yamcha as he made his way towards the end of the second section.
Yamcha turned left the moment he came to the end, and had to pause for a moment as his flashlight revealed what was waiting for him in the third section. There were probably three or four steps going downwards a few feet away from the entrance, with another chain-like gate in front of it, this one open slightly ajar. Weren't alleyways usually flat? He shook his head. He could worry about that later. Besides, he couldn't recall ever heading into one of Kioku Town's alleyways as a kid, so maybe this was how it was built.
Yamcha made his way down the steps and pushed the gate open, its rusty shriek nearly identical to the first gate, though once again, he didn't give it the time of day as he headed down the third section. But instead of an exit at the very end, the edge of his light showed a right turn up ahead.
Okay, this time Yamcha actually stopped. "Wait…What the…?" he whispered to himself. This didn't make sense. The alleyway was only supposed to be three sections before exiting out onto the road that led to the prison. The ex-bandit pulled out the map and looked it over again. He wasn't wrong, so why…?
Maybe…Maybe the map he was using was an older version? A couple of newer shop could've been built after this version of the map was created. Yeah, that was it. While it annoyed him to know that his map wasn't going to be as helpful as he thought, it was at least nice to have an explanation for something.
He placed the map back in the bag and continued down this section. As he did so, he couldn't help but look around a bit. This third section looked to be a bit older than the other two, with the paint on the walls having faded a bit, but other than that, it wasn't really dirty. Again, he thought nothing of this. But as he neared the end of this section, he noticed a faint purple glow emitting from the entrance to the next one.
Yamcha halted himself for a minute. No, it couldn't…
He rounded to corner, and there it was. The neon sign with the words 'Osake's Bar' in a circle glowing in all its purple glory, resting proudly on the wall to Yamcha's right, and with a single door just a few feet away that didn't have any access…
Now he was starting to feel unnerved. He shook his head as certain thoughts began to creep in. "No, everything's fine," he quietly told him. Maybe this bar had been so popular that the owner decided to open up a second one…and it was purely coincidental that they were connected via an alleyway, and that they both had doors that couldn't be opened…
At this point, it felt more like he was trying to trick himself into believing these things, but he was more than willing to take any explanation.
He made his way down the section, spotting a left turn at the end of it. He mentally groaned and shook his head again. After everything he's been through, a longer-than-anticipated alleyway shouldn't be a big deal. He'd be out of here soon and he could put this creepiness behind him.
But as he made his way to the end of this section and was about to turn left into the next one…
THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD!
Yamcha jumped at the sudden noise, turning towards the source. It sounded like…it was coming from the door…
THUD! THUD! THUD!
Thanks to the neon sign, he could easily see the door shaking with each thud, as if someone was inside and trying to break out. Yamcha could feel hope rise in his chest. Someone was in there. There was another person here…
…Maybe it was Evie, or one of the girls?
A small smile made its way to Yamcha's face as he turned around and walked back towards the door. But halfway there, the music box began to quietly play its song. Yamcha froze, the smile leaving his face.
THUD! THUD! THUD! THUD!
Yamcha jumped again at the pounding. No, he couldn't let it out. He didn't even want to think about what could be on the other side of the door as he turned and made his way back to the next entrance, the music box becoming silent as he did so…And after the left turn was another section of the alleyway, complete with a few downward steps and a chain-link gate…
…This is not happening…This is not happening…
He shook his head for the third time. "Stop being ridiculous, Yams," he chided himself out loud. "You're just scaring yourself." This alleyway had to exit out onto the street after this section. It was going on for way too long, and there was no way the people of Kioku Town would've built it any longer than this.
Yamcha pushed the gate open with another rusted shriek, and made his way down the new section. It was certainly older and bit dirtier than the last one. The paint looked even more faded this time, and dirt had begun to build up on the walls, though it was barely noticeable. No time to think about that, though, he was almost out of here.
Alas, there was no exit to be seen at the end, and he was greeted with a now familiar sight of a soft purple glow coming from a right turn.
Okay, what the hell is this?!
"Don't be the same…" Yamcha whispered to himself as he reached the turn. "Don't be the…"
And there it was. A purple sign for Osake's Bar and a single door, and a left turn at the end of the section…Except…The door was now opened slightly ajar…
The moment his mind registered that last detail, the soft sound of crying and whimpering penetrated the silence. It sounded like a child, and it was coming from the opened door.
Though still unnerved at what was happening, Yamcha carefully made his way towards the door. With each step, he waited to see if the music box would come to life, but it was as silent as a graveyard, even when he was right in front of the door. At least it wasn't another monster this time…
"Hello?" Yamcha called out, trying to look into the room, but it was pitch-black. He could hear the child continue to cry and whimper, giving him no other response. He reached to open the door a little further…only for the music box to suddenly play its song as loud as it could before his hand could even make contact.
Yamcha almost jumped out of his skin, turning to his bag in surprise at the volume. He looked back up at the door, and found a single onyx-black eye staring at him from the darkness inside.
Yamcha would never be able to deny the yell of fear that left his mouth as he hurriedly stumbled back, his heart leaping to his throat as the door was slammed shut by whoever or whatever was inside. He panted in terror; the music box quickly became silent again, and the child's cries ceased as well, but it did almost nothing to calm him.
He had no idea what that was, but he wasn't staying to find out. All he knew was that he wasn't alone in this alley. He needed to be on his toes for anything.
He rushed down the section, momentarily not caring about the left turn or the steps and gate that followed it. He just wanted to get away from whatever that was.
But as he heard the chain-link gate groan as it closed itself, Yamcha shut his eyes tightly. Please be the last section, he silently prayed. Please be the last one.
He reopened his eyes. This section was definitely older and filthier than the last ones, with the paint looking very faded and starting to chip away now, and the buildup of dirt was much more obvious now. And, now that he was recognizing it, the pipes and garbage were in the exact same place as each one before. And at the very end was a right turn with a purple glow.
That's it.
He couldn't take it anymore. Yamcha whipped around and placed a hand on the gate to open it up. Screw this 'shortcut'. He didn't care at this point. He'll just go back and take the long way around to Geppei Prison…Except the gate wouldn't budge.
"What?" Yamcha said out loud, but no matter how hard he pushed or pulled, the gate didn't move an inch. "No! You were just open! Let me out!" He slammed both fists against the gate as hard as he could, but despite his immense strength, it still refused to budge. "Open!" He yelled and slammed his fists against it again. It had the same results as last time.
"Shit…" Yamcha swore under his breath. He looked up at the top of the gate. He couldn't risk using his chi, so the only way out was to climb over the gate.
Wait a minute, had the gate always been that tall? It was easily twice his height, if not three times…And now that he was looking around, he finally noticed that the buildings were much taller now, too. He resisted the urge to slap himself. Of course they looked taller; he had gone down probably three sets of stairs now…But he didn't recall this section of the town being slanted, even if it had been so long since he'd last seen it…
Yamcha placed the flashlight between his teeth as he grabbed onto the gate and started to climb up it. Halfway up there, a sharp pain suddenly ran through his left palm the moment he grabbed the gate again. He gasped as he let go in surprise, resulting in him falling down and landing on his hindquarters on the ground. The flashlight clattered on the ground right next to him, and he looked at his palm to see a cut that was oozing blood.
He grabbed the flashlight with his uninjured hand and shined it on the gate. Razor wire had been wrapped around the upper half of the gate, and he could see a bit of blood—his blood—that had been left behind on it. How had he not noticed before? Were the other gates like this?
No…This wasn't happening…
There was no way out of here that didn't involve using chi. There were no windows or ladders or any ledges to be seen. And if he tried to climb over the gate again, it would no doubt cause him to bleed everywhere, and that wouldn't help him fight off any monsters or help his search for the girls.
He was trapped in this alleyway, whether he liked it or not.
Yamcha stood back up and slowly turned around, facing the rest of the section. Right now, it was the only way left for him to go. He curled his injured hand into a fist, hoping it would stop or at least congeal the bleeding, and made his way down the alley, wishing that he had another bottle of that 'Health Drink'.
As he neared the turn, the music box played its song again, though this time at a quieter volume. Yamcha halted at the sound, and quickly dug the steel wrench out of his bag. He winced at the feeling of the cold metal pressing against the cut, but he would just have to endure it. He slowly rounded the corner, trying to see whatever had set off the music box…and nearly dropped the flashlight and wrench as he exclaimed in shock.
There was a single being standing halfway down the section, illuminated by the neon sign. A being with sun-kissed tan skin, messy black hair that hung to his shoulders, had a tall and muscular physique, wearing a bloodstained white butcher's smock and black pants, was barefoot, had a blood-splattered faceless metal mask hiding his identity, and was gripping the handle of an enormous axe in his right hand.
Oh, no…Kami, please…No…
Anyone but him.
Yamcha found himself frozen on the spot, the memories of one particular dream echoing through his head. The figure, who could only be called the Masked Clone, made no movements or sounds. He was just standing there. And though there wasn't a single hole to be seen in the mask, he swore he could feel the Masked Clone stare directly into his soul.
What was he doing here? Why was he here?!
Yamcha wanted desperately to ask these questions, but found himself paralyzed with a primal fear that coursed through his entire being. Then, the flashlight started to flicker again. Yamcha's wide eyes were immediately drawn to it. "No, no…" he whispered harshly, shaking the object a bit. The light finally died after several seconds of flickering and wouldn't turn back on, no matter how many times Yamcha pressed the button or shook it. Damn it all…
That's when the neon lights began to flicker as well. He felt his blood turn to ice. Not that, too!
The flickering dragged on for several long seconds. Yamcha gulped heavily as he desperately prayed that the lights would stay on. But alas, when the flickering stopped, the entire alleyway was plunged into darkness. He could barely hear the music box over his own heart pounding in his ears. Why was this happening?!
"What do you want from me?" His voice was barely above a whisper. His grip on the wrench tightened despite the painful cut. As terrified as he was, he refused to go down without a fight.
Yamcha wasn't sure how long he stood there, waiting for something to happen, but after what felt like an eternity, the music box began to slowly quiet down until it was silent once again. Barely a second passed before the neon lights suddenly came back to life, illuminating the alleyway in a purple glow.
And the Masked Clone was nowhere to be seen.
He breathed heavily for a minute or so, fruitlessly trying to calm his nerves. He didn't understand any of this, but at this point, he didn't want to know. Trying to think about anything other than the Masked Clone, he looked down at the flashlight. He clicked it a few more times. Nothing. It was as dead as a doornail.
Yamcha grumbled under his breath and just tossed the flashlight onto the ground, watching as it clattered to the ground and rolled away before stopping. With that and chi being off the table, he would just have to rely on the neon lights until he found another light source. Hopefully sooner rather than later.
It took him another few minutes to fully regain himself, but nevertheless, Yamcha put the wrench away and walked off. He rounded the familiar left turn, headed down the stairs and passed through the gate again. Just as he suspected, the end of this section had a right turn accompanied by a faint purple glow. He gritted his teeth.
He picked up the pace, just wanting to get out of here. He could see from the purple lights that more dirt had formed on the walls, and at this point, a damp, moldy odor had made itself known. Yamcha grimaced in disgust.
He rounded the corner, but paused at the sight before him. The door right next to the sign was now wide open. From here, Yamcha couldn't see anything but darkness in the room. The music box was silent right now, so…maybe it was safe? He hesitantly started forward again. But when he was only a few feet away from the door, a flicker of dim light suddenly pierced the darkness inside of it.
Surprise and curiosity pushed him to look inside the room, and he was greeted with the sight of a zippo lighter sitting in the middle of the room, its lid open and a gentle flame atop it, just barely illuminating its surrounding area. Yamcha felt hope rise in his chest. A light source! Sure, it definitely wasn't as powerful as the flashlight, but it was certainly better than walking around in the pitch black.
Yamcha quickly scanned what little areas he could see. He couldn't see anything unusual, and even though he couldn't make out any shapes in the darkness, the music box remained silent. Taking that as his cue, Yamcha quickly stepped into the room and made his way over to the lighter, crouching down to pick it up. The flame suddenly died down the moment his hand touched the object, plunging both of them into darkness again, which prompted him to hurriedly click it as he stood back up. After a few unsuccessful tries, a flame finally shot up. Yamcha smiled despite himself, grateful for the light it provided and feeling the warmth radiating from it.
The sudden sound of a door slamming jerked him back to reality, making him jump and nearly drop the lighter. Yamcha whipped back around to see that the door had somehow shut itself. He felt his heart leap to his throat as he ran to the door, bashing his shoulder against it in hopes that it would break it down. But alas, just like with the gate several minutes earlier, the door refused to budge, no matter how much or how hard he pounded against it. He was trapped in this room.
An exasperated groan escaped Yamcha's mouth as he pressed his forehead against the door. "You're an idiot, Yams," he growled under his breath. "You knew something like this would happen, and yet you went in anyways! Hope you're happy, dumbass!"
With a heavy sigh, he took a step away from the door, and after a few seconds, turned around to look around the room for the first time. The room fared no better than the alleyway; the walls and floor were stained with grime and dirt, and a disgusting, pungent odor hung heavily in the air. But there was something else mixed in with that odor. It didn't take him long to realize that that 'something else' was a metallic scent. Against his better judgement, he drew closer to one of the corners, where the metallic scent was wafting from, and as soon as the flame's light hit the corner, it was impossible for him to miss the dark, dried bloodstains that covered that part of the walls and floor.
He swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat. It really shouldn't surprise him at this point.
A sound of a rusty, metallic groan, sudden and loud, nearly made Yamcha jump out of his skin. He quickly recognized it as the gate he had through minutes before. The sound was immediately followed by slowly approaching footsteps being accompanied by the sound of something metallic being dragged along the ground. And within seconds, the music box came back to life.
Oh no…
As the footsteps and dragging grew closer, as the music slowly became louder, something else joined the cacophony of noise. The wailing of the child returned. It was much louder than before, echoing all around him in the room. But no matter where he looked, no matter where he shined his lighter, he was the only thing in this room.
Yamcha could only stare at the door, backing away as he listened to each sound crescendo, until the footsteps and dragging stopped right outside the door. Then, the door began to shake as something pounded on it, clearly trying to get inside. The music was playing at full volume, but Yamcha didn't need it to know what was on the other side.
The door shook a few more times before stopping for a few seconds. Then, without warning, the door trembled much violently than before with a booming thud, as if whoever was on the other side had thrown themselves against the door. Yamcha slapped his free hand over his mouth to prevent any noise from escaping, feeling his heart hammer in his chest.
It happened a few more times over the next several minutes. Pounding against the door, followed by a violent slam. Until finally it was replaced by the previous footsteps and dragging, except this time, they were leading away from the room. As they grew quieter, so did the music box and the crying. And after what felt like forever, everything was finally silent.
For a minute, Yamcha wasn't sure what to do. His ears were practically ringing with how quiet it was. That door had been the only thing protecting him from the Masked Clone.
He had little time to think about it any further, however, before the door cracked itself open with an audible click. The ex-bandit jumped at the sound, but didn't hesitate to rush over and kick it open. He bolted out of the room; he never thought he'd feel relief at seeing the disgusting alleyway, but he didn't care right now.
After giving his nerves a few minutes to calm down from what just happened, he continued to make his way down the alley, this time with a new light source in hand. Same thing as before: left turn, stairs, and gate.
If the alleyway was filthy before, it was beyond disgusting now. The rotting stench was very much prevalent here, and grime had caked itself onto the walls. Halfway through the section, however, Yamcha froze as the sound of radio static and a grainy voice reached his ears.
He swore he felt a spike of ice in his stomach. No, not now! Not that!
He found himself standing perfectly still in one spot, waiting to hear Siren Head's footsteps or the music box's song. Whichever came first. But after a few minutes that dragged on, nothing changed. The music box remained silent. There were no footsteps. And now that he was listening, he recognized the voice and what it was saying.
"…the commotion, and the father shot her, too. His ten-year-old son had the good sense…"
It was the same murder report from the apartments. But where was it…?
Hesitantly, Yamcha made his way through the alleyway, and once he made the inevitable right turn, it didn't take him long to find the source. There, resting on the filthy ground between the neon sign and the door, was a single handheld radio. A mix of static and the grainy report proudly projected itself from the speaker.
"Police arriving on-scene after neighbors called 911 found the father in his car, listening to the radio. Several days before…"
Yamcha let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. It looked like Siren Head wasn't here. Thank Kami. He passed the radio as he continued walking, not bothering to give it a second glance.
"Look behind you."
His breathing hitched when the voice broke from its report to say those three words. Instead of doing what it asked, he practically bolted down the rest of the alleyway, slamming the gate shut behind him without bother to look back.
Yamcha inhaled deeply to calm himself. Nothing good would come of him panicking right now. But even so, as those three words echoed in his mind, he couldn't shake the feeling that something—someone—had been right behind him at that very moment…
He shook his head and continued down the alleyway. The buildup of grime was much worse this time around, and the smell certainly wasn't helping. The static and grainy voice was still present, and when Yamcha rounded the corner, he saw that the radio was in the exact same place, playing the exact same report.
"…state last month, and in December of last year, a man used a gun and a meat…"
Just like last time, he refused to look at it as he walked down the next section.
"I said, look behind you."
Yamcha froze on the spot. The owner of the voice was watching him. He didn't know how or why, but they were watching him. His free hand shakily reached into the bag and pulled the wrench out with a white-knuckled grip, and Yamcha whipped around on the spot, wrench raised up and ready to—
There was nothing behind him.
Yamcha stared at the empty space before him, and that's when he realized that the music box had been silent the whole time. He blinked, then let out a low, bitter laugh. Why was this voice messing with him? Making him paranoid? He already had enough to deal with at the moment.
He briefly considered smashing the radio, which had gone back to the same murder report like nothing happened, when a sudden, quiet growl made him freeze again. And this time, the music box came to life.
He turned back around, and at the edge of the neon light's reach, a single creature stepped into view. It…was the same dog-like creature from the Hotaru Apartments, damn near identical. Except this time, its blue iris was replaced with a vivid green one.
Yamcha groaned under his breath. "How many of you are there?" He really, really did not want to deal with any more of these things right now. The dog-like creature snarled, leaving a bloody trail as its guts dragged along the grimy ground, before picking up speed and lunging at Yamcha with its jaw wide open. This time, he didn't hesitate to jump to the side just before it could reach him and slammed the wrench as hard as he could against its head.
The creature let out a pained, gargling yelp as it collapsed to the ground, but Yamcha chose to ignore it in favor of delivering a few more powerful strikes with the wrench. He didn't stop until the music box died down again. Once it was quiet, Yamcha looked down at the dead creature, its skull cracked open with blood and brain matter oozing out. He had to look away to avoid being sick, and didn't fail to notice the blood dripping from the end of his wrench.
There was no time to dwell on this. Yamcha abandoned the corpse and followed the same pattern of the corner, the steps and the gate. No sooner had the gate shrieked shut than a familiar, metallic odor hit his nose. He looked up, and as soon as the edge of the flame's light the walls, the familiar sight of dark red stains greeted him.
Yamcha swallowed a lump in his throat as he placed the wrench back in his bag. As he continued forward, it became clear that the bloodstains weren't the only changes to this…this…The only word he could think of to describe it was a 'loop'. The purple glow of the neon lights was gone, now replaced with red lights that bathed the alleyway in a scarlet glow. It only added to the already unnerving atmosphere.
As he made his way down the section for what felt like the umpteenth time, something on the wall caught his eye. He looked up, seeing the words written in the same dark red that covered the filthy walls.
'FORGIVE ME, MY LOVE, THERE'S A MONSTER INSIDE OF ME'
He…didn't want to think about it. Yamcha picked up the pace. Same turn, stairs, and gate. This time, more dark bloodstains covered the walls, which now started to look like they were rotting away. They certainly smelled like it.
Yamcha rounded the corner, seeing the same red glow from before. The red message was gone this time, but it did little to unnerve him as he made his way through the section again.
CRASH!
Yamcha involuntarily let out a cry of surprise as he jumped, stopping dead in his tracks at the sudden sound. He whipped around on the spot. Nobody was behind him, and the music box was thankfully silent. Then, he looked down, and couldn't find his words for a moment. There, lying on the ground just a few feet away from him, was a single picture frame, which was cracked and covered in its own broken glass.
But he barely noticed that once he saw the photograph it housed. Dark eyes widened as he crouched down and reached for the photo, taking care to brush away the bits of glass and frame as he picked it up. It was a picture of three children: a boy with dark hair and eyes, a girl with brown hair and green eyes, and a girl with blue hair and eyes. All three of them looked to be in their preteen years, smiling energetically at the camera.
Yamcha stared at the picture for what felt like forever. How…did it get here? He didn't remember the exact moment this was taken, but there was no denying who the kids in the photo were.
His thoughts couldn't dwell any further, as the music box chose that moment to start up its song. The former bandit was immediately alert. He stood up straight and looked around; he saw nothing, which didn't help as the melody steadily grew louder. That's when he chose to look up, and nearly choked on his own breath when he saw the Masked Clone standing at the edge of one of the rooftops.
The Masked Clone didn't have his axe with him this time, simply standing there without making a single sound or movement as he stared down at him. Yamcha felt his muscles tense up. He was about to drop the photo and reach for his wrench, but the Masked Clone turned and slowly walked away from the edge. The music box grew quiet until it was completely silent again.
For a minute, Yamcha wasn't sure what to do, staring at the empty space that the Masked Clone once occupied. Just…what?
He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, before returning his gaze to the photo. The girls…He quickly shook his head. He didn't have time to think about this. He placed the photo in the bag with care, and continued down the same path as before. If anything happened to them…
Larger and larger bloodstains, now looking to be a mix of stale and fresh, covered the still rotting walls and ground. Halfway through the section, two sounds reached Yamcha's ears: the hissing of radio static from earlier—he hadn't even realized it stopped—and an ominous creaking. He rounded the corner, and the source of both sounds became clear.
The same handheld radio was lying on the ground.
And right above it, a single fridge was tied up securely with chains and dangling from the black sky, the few chains holding it up stretching into the endless darkness. He couldn't see what it was attached to. The fridge gently swayed several feet in the air, and the scarlet stains around the door stood out brazenly against its white color.
Yamcha didn't realize he was staring at it until the radio let out a few noises amidst the bursts of static, startling him out of his stupor. After a few seconds, the same voice from the report broke through the static.
"…After killing his family, the father hung himself with a garden hose they had in the garage…w…an umbilical cord they had in the g…"
The voice became muffled as it struggled to get the message through, before finally being drowned out by static. Yamcha resisted the urge to shudder at the message, instead hurrying past the radio and fridge to round the corner again.
As soon as he entered the next loop, Yamcha was forced to cover his nose as the pungent odors worsened. He looked around the alleyway, and quickly saw why. Bits of viscera were scattered across the disgusting ground, some of them looking like they'd been there for several days and rotted away, while others were fresh and still bloody.
Yamcha felt his stomach twist, trying to will away the urge to puke. He walked forward, taking care not to step on any of the organs. He drew closer to the next corner. He could see from here that the neon lights were flickering, the red glow disappearing and reappearing every few seconds. And as his mind registered this, new sounds reached his ears.
The creaking of the fridge was still there, along with the radio static. But the child's cries had returned, though it sounded muffled, and was accompanied by…a sloshing sound?
And every one in a while, the radio static would give way to a grainy, feminine voice.
"Ring around the Rosie
Pocket full of posies
Ashes, ashes
We all fall down"
He rounded the corner, and nearly dropped the lighter as his eyes widened. The fridge was in the same spot as before, but now it was swaying harder than before, and every time it moved, something would slosh inside. The child's cries…were they coming from inside the…?
"Ring around the Rosie
What do you suppose we
Can do to fight the darkness
In which we drown?"
And just a few feet away from the fridge, a single, twin-sized metal bedframe was gently swaying in midair. Almost identical to the fridge, the frame hung from barbed wire that stretched up into the sky. A naked, pale, featureless body was tied securely to the bedframe with the same barbed wire, its stomach split open, revealing an empty abdominal cavity, and its body covered in red stains.
"Ring around the Rosie
This evil thing, it knows me
Lost ghosts surround me"
Yamcha gulped heavily, slowly moving forward and never taking his eyes off of either hanging object. The music box came to life, its melody growing louder as he drew near them. That was more than enough to make him hurry along, doing his best to ignore the muffled weeping coming from the fridge. The music box played it song at max volume as he passed it, then quieted down as he moved.
"I can't fall down."
The song ended, dissolving into noisy static once more. Yamcha didn't care.
There were even more disgusting viscera on the ground in the next loop. He merely walked around and over them again, though it was a bit harder this time thanks to the amount. The rotting walls were finally giving way, with chunks here and there missing, revealing a metal structure that heavily resembled a chain-link fence on either side.
The red lights were flickering again. The static was gone, but now the muffled crying had evolved into the screams of a distressed child, along with the creaking becoming much louder.
He rounded the corner again. The fridge was now violently swinging in the air; whatever was inside was desperately struggling to break out; and whenever it swayed to one side, dark reddish fluids would leak onto the ground. And finally, a second 'bedframe corpse', identical to the first one, hung on the opposite side of the fridge.
Again, he hurried along.
The neon lights suddenly exploded out, a shower of spark flying as the red glow completely died, leaving the flame of his lighter as the only think keeping the alleyway from plunging into darkness. Yamcha flinched in surprise when it happened, whipping around to look at it.
"AHAHAHAHAHA!"
Yamcha jumped again as shrill, manic laughter echoed from the radio. It faded into silence after several seconds. He shook his head again and continued forward.
More the walls had peeled away in this next section, revealing that the structure was indeed a rusted up chain-link fence. He tried to look through the opening, but could only see darkness on the other side. He stepped over the various gore on the ground, which was now also rotting away to reveal a dark red metal platform underneath, and rounded the corner again. The lights were still dead, and the fridge and two 'bedframe corpses' remained in their spots, though the fridge had stopped moving and was now as silent as a grave.
As Yamcha walked through the section, his eyes found dark red writing on the parts of the wall that weren't ripped away.
'I CAN HEAR THEM CALLING TO ME FROM HELL'
He refused to even stop to think about it.
In the next loop, even more of the fence was now exposed, looking to be more fence than wall at this point. And there was still nothing but darkness beyond it.
He rounded the all-too-familiar corner. There was another corpse leaning against the wall/fence, right next to the radio, which was giving out bursts of static and unintelligible words again. Mutilated flesh, long tangled black hair, shredded black tank top and blue pants…It was the same corpse from the Hotaru Apartments.
But why was it here?
As Yamcha walked past it…
"You remember, right?" The words suddenly became intelligible again, making Yamcha jump and freeze in his tracks. It was the same voice that gave him the murder report. "Nearly twenty years back…" It went right back to static and gibberish noises after that.
Yamcha stared at the radio for a minute or two. Twenty years. His brow furrowed in thought as a perturbed feeling stirred within his gut. Why was…?
Never mind. He could ask Tenshi and Sencha about it once they met up. Maybe they could explain it.
Most of the fence was visible in the next section. However, one part of the wall had just enough parts to have another red message.
'NO TURNING BACK NOW'
Yamcha chuckled bitterly despite himself. It felt like the words themselves were mocking him.
The moment he rounded the corner, the music box began playing its song again. Yamcha was immediately alert, looking around but not seeing anything. It got louder as he got closer to the door, which now had a trail of blood leading towards it and fresh blood covering it. Once he was right in front of the door, he stopped abruptly. In spite of how loud the music box was being, it failed to drown out the sounds coming from the other side of the door.
The sounds of footsteps and something metal being dragged along the ground echoed inside the room. Then, after a few seconds, there was a wet thud followed by what sounded like a woman coughing and hacking violently. The footsteps and dragging stopped. The coughing and hacking were replaced with sobbing.
Then, whoever was sobbing stopped to gasp sharply, accompanied by the sound of flesh being sliced and a loud thud. The sound of metal scraping against another piece of metal. A shrill, horrified scream was cut short by flesh being stabbed. The scream was now a gurgling choke, but even that died down as it sounded like a body hit the floor. And then, nothing.
Yamcha stared at the closed door in shock, unsure of what to make of what he just heard. He was about to start walking again when the radio came back to life.
"I walked…" a voice, similar to the murder report voice but deeper and a bit distorted, said quietly. Yamcha looked down at it. "I could do nothing but walk. And then…I saw me, walking in front of myself. But…it wasn't really me…"
Gritting his teeth in frustration, Yamcha walked over and crouched down, practically snatching up the radio. "Who the hell are you?!" he growled at it. "What's going on?!"
He received no response for several long seconds. And then…
"Watch out," the voice continued. "The gap in the door…It's a separate reality. The only me is me. Are you sure the only you is you?"
Yamcha stared at it dumbfounded. Those words…
BAM!
Yamcha let out a yell of surprise as the door suddenly went flying off its hinges and slammed into the opposite wall. He dropped the radio, which clattered to the ground and broke into several pieces, but he barely noticed this. The sound of footsteps and dragging metal returned, and a single being appeared in the doorway. A single being with bloody clothes, an axe in hand, and a mask hiding his face.
Even though the radio was shattered, it managed to whisper out a single word.
"Run."
There was no question in his mind. Yamcha turned and bolted from the door as fast as possible.
He rounded the corner. The steps and gate were gone now, but he didn't care. Each section of the alleyway stretched longer and longer, with the walls now completely gone and showing only chain-link fences between him and endless darkness. There was now a 'ceiling' overhead, also composed of a chain-link fence. It was like he was trapped in a cage.
No matter how fast he ran, no matter how long, it never ended. He lost track of how many corners he turned, how long each section was. His thundering footsteps against the metal echoed all around him. It was the only sound, as the music box had gone quiet at this point. It only served to remind him of how alone he was.
Yamcha wasn't sure how long he ran, but after what felt like hours, his muscles started to ache and his lungs began to burn. The ex-bandit slowed to a halt, almost collapsing to his knees as he struggled to catch his breath. He looked back up, seeing nothing but the metal platform and the fences stretching out before him into seemingly endless darkness.
Was he ever going to get out?
The sound of metal scraping returned a minute later, along with labored breathing right behind him. Yamcha's body reacted without him thinking, hurriedly yanking the wrench from his bag and whipping around on the spot…
…Only to see nothing behind him.
He didn't get a chance to think about this, as the music box suddenly sprung to life at its loudest volume. Terror pooled in his stomach and he turned around.
Finding himself face-to-face with the Masked Clone.
The Masked Clone had a white-knuckled grip on his axe and had raised it up, swinging it once before he had could even react.
White-hot agony blinded him for several long seconds. The next thing he knew, he found himself laying on the ground, pain coursing through every part of his body. He wanted to stand, but his legs wouldn't respond to his commands. Actually, he couldn't feel his legs at all. He dared to look over his shoulder.
His body had been severed at the waist. His intestine spilled out, a pool of blood forming on the metal platform. His upper half was several inches away from his lower half. The Masked Clone was standing over his lower half, his axe covered in fresh blood, and he was staring down at his victim.
Yamcha struggled to crawl away, despite every nerve in his body screaming for relief. He barely pulled himself forward a few inches before the Masked Clone's approaching footsteps reached his ears. He tried to pick up the pace, tried to drag himself further and quicker. But alas, the Masked Clone stopped directly behind him, and without a moment's hesitation, brought the axe down onto his skull.
His body stopped working. Even though his head had been split open, his consciousness remained. Even though he couldn't move or speak, he could still see, hear and feel everything.
The Masked Clone yanked the axe out of his skull, causing brain matter to splatter across the ground. Yamcha's vision started to become blurry and faded. There was the sound of the Masked Clone leaning his axe against one of the fences, then closing what little distance was between them. The Masked Clone crouched over him as his vision darkened. Even as he was slowly being swallowed by blackness, he could hear and feel the twisted version of himself reaching into his broken head and tearing into his flesh.
And then, nothing.
OoOoOoO
Yamcha inhaled sharply as he bolted up from where he had been laying belly-first in the snow, forcing himself onto his hands and knees. He rapidly turned his head, but couldn't see anything thanks to the darkness around him. He panted heavily and coughed. He could still feel the sharp pain running through his nerves, and each breath he drew in made his lungs feel like they were being splashed with icy water.
He felt the contents of his stomach churn for the umpteenth time. He couldn't hold it back this time. The coughing quickly turned to retching, and he dry heaved several times as his stomach spasmed, before he finally vomited up long strands of acrid bile that landed on the snow beneath him.
He returned to coughing as soon as he was done, wheezing as he collapsed onto his side. Yamcha shivered, his body curling into a fetal position as it struggled to recover from what just happened.
He wasn't sure how long he stayed like that before shakily pulling himself up into a sitting position.
"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!" His scream seemed to echoed across the town.
Once he recovered himself, Yamcha silently reached into his messenger bag, and got lucky as his fingertips brushed against the Zippo lighter. He quickly pulled it out and successfully ignited the flame after a few attempts. He looked around, trying to get his bearings.
He was back out in the streets of Kioku Town. Yamcha stood up, brushing snow off of himself with his free hand. It took him a minute to realize he was in the middle of a parking lot. He turned to look at the large building, and was greeted with the words 'Geppei Prison' as he walked towards its main entrance.
Yamcha stared dumbfounded. Then, he let out a loud burst of laughter despite himself.
"This…I…" he struggled to find his reasoning, let alone his words, amidst fits of laughter. "I was sleepwalking. Yeah, that's it! That was…just a nightmare! I must've passed out when I hit my head on the bath tub, and sleepwalked here…" He didn't what kind of explanation he got at this point.
That's when he remembered that he was holding the lighter in his hand. He stopped laughing and blinked at it, then realized he was also wearing the same leather jacket as before. His left palm had a scratch on it, which was starting to heal over, and when he opened the bag again, he saw the same old wrench that was stained with blood…
"Oh, I'm not even going to try!" Yamcha yelled to no one in particular.
But regardless of how he got here, he was still where he needed to be. Yamcha approached the main entrance. The sooner he found the girls, the sooner he could get out of this hellish town. He pushed the door open with a loud creak and headed inside.
I didn't want you
I wanna watch you change
From a butterfly and into chains
In case anyone's wondering, I used the Dead Space version of "Ring Around the Rosie" for that one scene
Got any thoughts/predictions about what's really going on? I'd love to hear your theories, please let me know in a review!