Author's Note: I got the inspiration for this halo for the segment called Imprison, in the 2010 Thai movie, Still. (It's not really a good movie, but I am interested in the real story that it's based on. I have been sitting on this idea for a while now. It had to come out and here it is. Think of this as the first step into a giant storm. I can't wait for Christmas. I'm dying to see where the rest of the season goes. I already have next week planned. For now, enjoy this week's halo.
Halo Fifteen: Denji:
You are looking at a man in turmoil. Kan Denji was arrested four weeks ago. They brought him in the middle of the night. Two cops walked him to his cell. Once he was inside, they uncuffed him. He's been in his cage ever since.
The man stayed mostly to himself. Sometimes, it is not good for a man to be alone in his thoughts. Denji was going to learn that the hard way. Once that door slid closed, he would be alone with what he did. The waiting begins. A man waits for when his trial will be. He has time to think about what they have done. The question becomes how long before they snap.
Denji was about to go on a long journey through his personal hell.
The other prisoners eye him. They are mentally taking bets on how long he will live. The longest is three weeks. Denji isn't afraid to be in jail. There's something much deeper than he's afraid of.
Lucky for him, he has Walker to keep him sane. Well… sort of. Denji couldn't figure out this guy. It was like he lived in a world of anime and manga 24/7. Did he even know what reality was? Out of everyone in lock-up, Walker seemed so calm. Almost like he knew something no one else didn't.
"Why are you always smiling?" Denji asked. His voice came out trembling.
"Me smiling?" he asked.
"Yeah," the other man said.
"I never thought about that," Walker said. Denji trembled. Who was this guy?
As the days went on, Denji began to notice that something wasn't right. No, that couldn't be right. When did his cell feel that much smaller? Denji could feel his heart pounding against his chest. He took in heavy breaths.
"Something the matter?" Walker asked. The other man whipped his head to the right. He quickly shook his head.
"I don't get it," Denji managed to choke out.
"Get what?" he asked.
"How can you be so calm in this place?" the other man asked.
"Oh, it's not much," Walker said. "They don't bother me here. It's kind of boring. There's no anime or manga."
"Oh…" Denji said. Of course, this guy would talk about anime and manga. He sat down on the ground and drew his knees to his chest.
He doesn't sleep well. Denji would wake up screaming in the middle of the night. Lately, his nightmares have been getting worse.
So dark… So cold…
His body felt like he was floating in the nothingness. When Denji opened his eyes, all he could see was the blackened water around him. Bubbles floated up around him. He panicked and tried to swim up to the surface. Denji noticed that his body wouldn't obey him. The man screamed as he sank deeper. He couldn't even hear his own voice. Denji couldn't only hear one thing.
Why?
A hand closed around his neck. It seemed to force him down further into the inky black.
The man awoke with a jolt. He lay on the floor of his cell, panting. Sweat covered his body. He darted his eyes around at the walls.
Where… Where am I?
It took him a while him Denji to remember where he was. The man gulped as he turned his head to the wall.
"Walker? Where are you? Walker? Walker?" he asked. There was no answer. Denji's heart raced against his chest. He looked around left and right. No… No! No! Where did he go? Come back! Come back!
Suddenly, the door opened down the hall. Denji sat up to see Walker walking past his cell. The otaku was shoved back into his own cell. The door slid closed. Denji watched as the guards walked down the hall. The man stared at his wall.
"Where did you go, man?!" Denji asked. "Where did you go?!"
"To the courthouse," Walker said. He said it like it was no big deal.
"Heh?" the otaku asked. "Why? Did you miss me?" Denji tried to get himself to calm down.
"Uh… yeah, yeah," he said. "I mean, sort of." The man sat up and cleared his throat.
"Heh," Walker said. Denji could relax now. His source of comfort came back. Suddenly, he lifted his head.
"What did you say?" he asked.
"What? I didn't say anything," Walker said. Denji sat frozen. He could've sworn that the otaku called him a murderer. The man shook his head. No, that couldn't be right. That didn't sound like Walker at all. Denji paused with that thought.
He didn't know anything about Walker. He only got a look at him once. Who was this guy? Where did he come from?
"Are you real?" Denji asked.
"Huh? Of course, I'm real," Walker said. "Why would you think otherwise?"
"I… I don't know," the other man said. He shook his head. The otaku didn't say a word. Denji laid back down on the floor. That single light hanging from the ceiling made his stomach turn. Before he knew it, the man went to sleep.
So cold again.
His body floated in the dark nothing. It's always this dream. When did he start having this dream? Before, his dreams actually normal. It couldn't be after he got arrested. That couldn't be right. Until now, Denji never believed in dreams. This felt different. He knew what was coming next by now.
Denji opened his eyes and saw the inky black water around him. He tried to swim up in vain. A strange pressure held him down. Tears ran down his cheeks. A wave of pain ripped through his body.
"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
No sound came from his lips. The only thing he heard was that voice.
Why?
I… I don't know.
That damned hand darted forward and grabbed him by the throat. This time, he noticed a few details about this hand. It looked so… small. So small, so dainty. He had seen the nails before. He didn't want to think the worst. He couldn't. His body was sinking too fast as he started to choke again.
Denji awoke with a jolt.
"Shut up!" another prisoner yelled. "You keep waking up screaming every night! Quit waking us up!" Denji just laid there on his cot, panting.
It didn't help that he was in the same cell where another inmate hanged himself just weeks earlier.
Meanwhile, the police sat around talking and watching the prisoners in the cells. One of them had his eyes on Denji.
"Isn't that the cell where that other guy hanged himself?" he asked. The other two came for a look.
"You sure?" another one asked. The first guy narrowed his eyes and took a closer look.
"I think it is," he said. The cops looked at each other.
"Why did we put him in there?" the third cop asked. The other two looked at each other.
"That was the cell that was available," the first one said. "It's not like it's cursed or anything." The cops didn't speak at first. The third one waved him off.
"Don't be ridiculous," he said. "Ghosts aren't real." The other two didn't look so convinced.
"I'm not so sure about that," the first one said. "The other inmates keep complaining about him waking up screaming every night."
"You can't serious," his colleague said. "It's just the guilt to what he did."
"Huh?" the second cop asked.
"You did read what Kan-san did?" the third cop asked.
"Yeah," his colleague said. The third cop shrugged.
"Well, guilt has a strange way of manifesting itself," he said. He turned back to the monitor.
"What we are looking at is just that," the third cop said. "Nothing but guilt and nightmares playing out before our eyes. Nothing more, nothing less. There are no ghosts." The other two police officers nodded, but they didn't look so convinced. Their colleague sat back in his chair and finished his lunch. The other two cops did the same with their own bento boxes. They turned back to the monitor again.
On Sunday, Denji's friends came to visit him. He awoke to the guard opening his door.
"Get up, you have visitors," he said. Denji said nothing as his wrists were cuffed. He was led down the hall. His two friends, a man, and a woman sat waiting in the visitor's section. The man looked up as Denji and the guard approached.
"Hey man," he said. Denji lifted his head. The guard whispered something in his ear before he walked over to the doorway. Denji's friends had looks of sympathy in their eyes. He lowered his eyes. Please don't look at me like that. It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault!
He sat down in front of the man and woman.
"How have you been holding up?" the woman asked. Denji dropped his head.
"Not good," he mumbled. He looked so pale and he seemed to have lost some weight. His clothes looked like they would eat him up.
"Your mom isn't doing so good either," his male friend said. Denji looked up. The woman nudged the other man in the side.
"What?" he asked.
"You could've delivered it in a gentler way," she hissed. She put up his hand.
"My bad," he said.
"It's fine," Denji said. His friends looked at him. He shook his head.
"How is everyone else doing?" he asked.
"We're fine," his male friend said. "Everyone else is fine." The trio descended into chatter. Well, the friends did most of the talking. Denji just sat, listening. It didn't feel real. They were sitting in front of him, talking. But we're they really here? Did he just imagine the whole thing? He mumbled something under his breath.
"Hm? What did you say?" his male friend asked. Denji lifted his chin.
"Are you guys real?" he asked. His friends looked confused.
"What?" the male friend asked, chuckling. The prisoner had a serious look on his face. His friend went quiet.
"Yes," the woman said. "We'll real." The man blinked at Denji.
"Are you sure you're okay, man?" he asked. The prisoner shook his head.
"No," he said. Denji looked ready to scream. The looks of pity in his friends' eyes made it hurt even more. In the end, the guard came and took Denji back to his cell.
"Okay, let's go," he said. "Visiting time is over." The prisoner said nothing as he was led away. He couldn't even bring himself to look at his friends once more. The man and the woman looked so worried. They were probably thinking the same thing.
They had to get him out of here. But would they get him out in time?
Walker could see that his neighbor was slowly coming unhinged. He's experienced this before. Somehow, Denji would be the key to getting the otaku out of jail. Walker couldn't tell him this yet. He doubted the Denji would understand. Walker counted down to when his neighbor was going to snap. It didn't feel right to let him hit rock bottom like that.
At least he could tell him the truth.
"You know that an inmate committed suicide in your cell weeks ago, right?" Walker asked. Denji jerked his head upwards.
"Why would you tell me that?" he asked.
"I don't know," Walker said. "Maybe it could explain all of the nightmares you keep having?"
"Did you know them?" Denji asked. "Did you know them?"
"No," the otaku said. "He died before I can here."
"I-I-I-Is my cell haunted?" his neighbor asked.
"I don't know," Walker said.
"And what am I supposed to do with that?" Denji asked.
"I don't know," the otaku said. He turned over on his side on the cot.
"Just thought you should know," he said. Denji looked like he was ready to throw up.
"Why would you think that?!" he asked. Walker had already gone to sleep. A chill ran through the other man's body. He drew his knees to his chest. The man shook his head.
No! Don't think about that. No! No!
Denji grabbed the sides of his head. He broke down trembling. Random images of death and blood played in his head.
There's a new prisoner today. Jimbo Aoko sat across from him. She shouldn't be here. She wasn't scared or calm. Aoko looked so angry. Denji didn't know what to think of her.
"Are you real?" he asked her. Aoko tilted her head.
"What kind of a question that?" she asked.
"Don't mean him," Walker said. "He's been here for a few weeks. I think it's getting to him." The otaku whispered that last part. Denji's right eye twitched.
Don't talk about me like I'm not here.
"Ah," Aoko said. Denji didn't know what to make of her. Was she good or bad? Maybe she was a trap. What sense did that make? Denji froze.
Oh no.
"Hey, hey, hey!" he whispered loudly to get her attention. Aoko turned her head.
"What?" she asked. Denji trembled as he drew his knees to his chest.
"Did you say Murata the other day?" he asked in a shaking voice. Aoko shot him a cold glare.
"Why?" she asked.
"You said it, didn't you?" Denji asked. "You said that man's name, didn't you?" Aoko's eyes widened.
"Did you…?" she began to ask. He looked away.
"Who?" Aoko asked. "Who was it?" Denji lowered his head and mumbled something under his breath.
"Excuse me?" she asked. The memories came flooding back. Denji lifted his head. The color had drained from his face. His eyes looked so hollow.
"Are you feeling okay?" Aoko asked.
"No," he said. Why? Why did Walker have to be at the courthouse again?
September 13th, 2015.
Something was off about that night. It was supposed to have been quiet. Maybe, a little too quiet. Walker seemed to be bracing himself for something to happen.
Meanwhile, Denji was having a terrible time. All the color drained from his face. He hadn't eaten in days. That voice and the dreams wouldn't let him sleep anymore. The past few weeks hadn't been kind to him.
It started with the needles in his food. Ten days ago, they gave him his usual meal. They gave him the meal of fish, rice, and miso. He took a bite into the rice. A sharp pain cut through his mouth. He gasped as he could taste blood.
"Ow!" he said with a hand over his mouth. Denji spat out his food. He took a closer look. A puzzled look came over his face. A small sewing needle sat in the palm of his hand. What was this? Why would somebody do something like this? Who did this? Denji nervously looked around. Did they catch on? Was this Murata's doing?
They are trying to kill me!
Since then, he hadn't eaten anything. Denji ignored his stomach pains of hunger. The guards insisted that no one was tampering with his food.
"No one is trying to kill you," one of them said. "Just eat." Denji wouldn't believe it.
I won't let them get me!
It didn't help that the lights kept flickering in the jailhouse. Denji would look up every time that happened. Even Walker couldn't ground the guy anymore.
"Are you real?" Denji asked.
"Yes," Walker said.
"How do I know you aren't lying?" the other man asked.
"You don't. How do you know that you are real?" the otaku asked. He might have made things worse with that one. Denji quickly shook his head.
"Of course I'm real!" he shouted. "I'm real! I'm real! I'm real! I'm real!"
"Shut up!" one of the other inmates yelled.
"I believe you," Walker said. The frayed man looked up.
"Huh?" he asked.
"If you say you are real, then I believe you," the otaku said. "You are real." That did little to put Denji at ease.
There have been debates on what led to what happened next. The inmates say that Denji kept mumbling to himself. Only Walker knew the truth. They wouldn't believe him. Why would they? He was just the crazy otaku who tried to kill a fellow otaku over a rare manga. He couldn't even remember the title anymore.
All of this played to his advantage.
Now back to Denji.
That night reached the breaking point. There was no thunderstorm. In fact, it was a clear night that night. Sometimes, the quiet can be even worse. Denji learned that the hard way in the few hours he had left.
Can the silence be so loud?
He took in heavy breaths. The whispering came back. Denji tightly shut his eyes. Please leave me alone. Tears filled his eyes. The man bit down on his thumb. He couldn't sleep anymore. That hand would be waiting. Waiting to finish him off.
I don't want to die. I don't want to die.
She could hear her laughing at him. Laughing or crying? He grabbed the sides of his head. Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Please leave me alone.
Denji froze.
What was that? He slowly turned his head. That sounded like the TV down where the police were. Why did they have to have it up that loud? Wait… That voice. Denji lowered his hands. No… It can't be! Murata's voice flowed through the vents. The man covered his ears.
"We all have to love each other!" Murata said. "We are all god's children. You are all beautiful inside. Give yourselves over to god and love each other." Lies. That was all that man said. He was a monster and a con man. Why couldn't anyone see that?
This was all his fault. Denji was a normal guy. He used to be happy. He was happy with her. Then that man came along and corrupted everything. This was him. He did this to us.
"Say this with me, my folks!" Murata said. "Man proposes, God disposes! Man proposes, God disposes! Man proposes, God disposes! Man proposes, God disposes!" The people started to chant along with him. Denji felt his stomach lurch.
Stop it. Stop it, please!
The cheering crowd made it worse. Denji's heavy breath couldn't compete. He could hear his heart pounding up to his eardrums.
Stop clapping! He's a monster! Why can't you see that? He did all of this.
You did this!
Denji opened his eyes. It all started to come back to him now.
He hadn't meant to kill her. They used to be so happy. One minute they were smiling and laughing together. Then he ended up with her blood on his hands. He remembered what changed. She discovered religion. More specifically, the Church of Light.
She wouldn't stop talking about them. At first, he thought nothing about it. She would lose interest and move onto to something else sure enough. He would just nod and tune her out. But sure, she changed. This wasn't the girl he fell in love with. She became quieter and more withdrawn. She didn't want anything to do with her family, friends, and him. He tried to get her back to who she used to be. Things grew worse when she tried to recruit her sister. The younger sister didn't fall for it. He had to try and get her out before it was too late.
He led her on a walk around the city. Things had grown tense between them. No smiling and laughing here. She wouldn't even look at him. He tried talking to her, but she wouldn't listen. At first, she wouldn't respond. Still, he wouldn't give up. The old her still had to be in there, somewhere. What happened next seemed so hazy to him.
There was an argument. He doesn't remember who started it. She slapped him in the face and he just snapped. He was on top of her on the side of the ride. He held her down and stabbed her in the chest. He lost count of however times he plunged the knife into her heart. She did struggle but never said a word. He did see the fear in her eyes, but it was useless to stop him. She reached up and touched his touch. Through the gurgling of blood, she only managed to ask him one question.
"Why?"
Her hand dropped to her side. Her eyes looked so empty. The time he realized he had done; it was too late. He ran away with the bloody knife in his hand. He ended up wandering around the city until police picked him up. He didn't know how long that was before they slapped the cuffs on his wrists.
September 14th, 2015.
-3:00 a.m.-
Kan Denji was found hanging from the ceiling of his cell. He must have died shortly after midnight. It wasn't clear how he managed to get some sheets. (They were taken away from his days earlier when it became suspected that he would try to kill himself.) His eyes looked so empty. Denji's body wouldn't be found until hours later. There would be several questions following his death. How did he kill himself without anyone seeing or hearing him? How did he manage to get the sheets to hang himself?
The inmates were all saying the same thing. They said that Denji kept complaining about the police watching Murata preaching on TV. The police denied that they have the TV on at all that night. In fact, there was only one officer on duty that and he wasn't a fan of TV. Who could blame them? He was about to be seventy in a couple of months. Everyone agreed that aside from Denji's screaming, it had been a quiet night. Given Denji's behavior over the past few days, they weren't surprised that it had come down to this. Some of the inmates were counting on it.
Meanwhile, Walker awoke around 3:45 a.m. He wasn't surprised. This had happened before. Now, he waited for what was going to happen next.