Something rotted poked out of the ground, stretching towards the dark heavens. It fumbled around for a little bit before getting a handhold on the dank, wet ground. Sinewy, gleaming muscles were visible in the gaps where there was little or no skin. Then, the head popped out. It was just as rotted as the arm—maybe even more so. Leaves and grime formed the outer covering of the thing. The left eye was a gaping hole where a bullet had gone through. The jaw seemed to see it fit to detach itself partway from the rest of the face. Groaning, the other hand popped out, looking just like its brother. Pulled taut, the atrophying muscles yanked the rest of the body out of its prison. It lay there, facedown, in the mud and leaves, unmoving.
All around the graveyard, other corpses like the first one were being drawn from their resting places. Some were equally rotted and others were fresh. There were even a few in between. Once out of their wood and dirt homes, they lay facedown on the ground much like the first one. Everything was silent as a graveyard. They seemed to be waiting for something…or someone…
Not everything in the cemetery was as inactive as the corpses. A deep, rolling fog poured in from some unknown source. It covered everything, including the waxing moon. Every light in the area went out, leaving one to stumble over headstones blindly.
"Ah, my creatures! Awaken! Be reborn as Night's children!"
The cry that rose up from their missing throats was horrendous. No longer motionless on the ground, they were now stretching themselves towards the heavens, praying to someone to make the pain stop. Joints popped and re-grew. Muscles stretched, folding and settled into place, brand spankin' new. Cracked and broken bones healed perfectly with restored amounts of calcium. Eyes, teeth, noses…other parts of the body pushed out of nowhere to reclaim their spot on the body. Then, the skin started pouring, like a waterfall tipped out of a pitcher. It spread over the body, shaping and sculpting itself to fit the new muscles and bones. It settled and gave gender to the being writhing on the ground.
Bits of moonlight pierced through the fog, bathing the mutating corpses in its healing light. No longer did they scream in agony as their bodies were twisted for a masters bidding. They reveled in the light; they were overwhelmed with thanks—thanks for giving them life once more: a second chance.
Ritual completed, the lifeless-turned-alive examined their new bodies.
They were pale. Not all the same shade of pale, but they still looked like they hadn't been out in the sun in forever—which was probably true for the larger portion of these monsters. Their ears were turned up into a sharp point and their hair was jet black—all of them. Fingernails were no longer kept short and trimmed: they were grown and shaped into sharp claws. Canines were longer and sharper…tinted with a hint of red.
Then, there came the thirst. The terrible, overwhelming thirst for human blood. It was as if they hadn't drunk in years—which again, was probably true for most of them. All they could think about was the coppery taste of blood.
One by one they flew out of the graveyard. They had one destination in mind: Tokyo.
Population: 12.369 million.
Above, a hideous shadow cackled madly, clearly enjoying the pain it knew was about to be executed on Tokyo.
"Ren what!"
The Asakura hotel jumped from its baseline and settled back with a crash.
Yoh and Manta scrambled backwards on their butts until they hit a wall. A huge, burning image of Anna rose up before them, hands on her hips and her eyes dangerously narrowed. One sandaled foot was a little too close to Yoh for comfort, so he scooted closer to Manta, hoping that is the foot came flying at him, he could use his little buddy as a shield.
"You let that freeloader leave, without even cooking breakfast for me? It was his turn to cook breakfast and you knew it, Yoh." Her overlarge frame quivered as she censured her husband and his friend.
"We're sorry, Anna, but he said he has important business to take care of!" Yoh protested with a little wink to his friend. They both knew he went back to China after Horohoro.
"Yeah! He was really spaced out this morning. We had no choice but to let him go," Manta put in with feigned innocence. "Why," he continued, shutting his eyes and holding up one finger. "I bet that when he finishes his business, he'll come back here and fix a feast for us!" he smiled unknowingly, hoping that the statement above would placate the dangerous Itako, who looked ready to send Amidamaru to Heaven.
"Hmph!" she huffed, crossing her arms and turning her back on the two boys. "You better see to it that he does, Shorty. Otherwise you'll be stuck with kitchen duty for the next millennium! As it stands…since Ren's not here, you have the job of cooking breakfast. Get going!"
The smaller boy immediately scuttled off towards the kitchen to start heating up the pans, leaving Yoh with the terrifying figure of his wife.
"As for you, Asakura Yoh," her tone didn't soften at all. "Fifty miles today! Get going!"
Sighing dolefully, Yoh got up and brushed off his pajama pants. "Alright. Let me go change…" he walked to the back of the hotel (through a labyrinth of stuff) to where the owner's rooms were. He had just barely taken off the white bottoms with little yellow rubber ducks on them (his favorite bath-time toy) when a massive crash shook the house right down to its skeleton. Still in his red and white heart boxers, he ran right out of his shared room with Anna towards the front of the house where the smoke was still clearing, grabbing Harusame off the wall as he went. Amidamaru appeared, gliding effortlessly along beside him.
'I sense there is something very dangerous entering the house, Master Yoh.' The samurai spirit stated grimly. A silver bang fell into his eyes as both he and his Shaman picked up speed to reach the front room.
The room itself was pretty trashed. The wallpaper was carved off in some places; scratch marks embedded deep in the wood framework. Chairs were overturned. The couch was ripped to shreds with the stuffing hanging out. Some of the floorboards had been pulled up, showing the cement base underneath the hotel. The television was lying on its screen, red and orange sparks flying all over the place. The food Manta had been cooking was strewn all over the place: noodles plastered to the walls, vegetables were lying underneath the bits of debris, the cutting board has been snapped in half, and the knives and pots and pans were either stuck to the wall, or broken on the floor. Anna's scarf was caught on an erect floorboard (Sheesh, that sounded wrong).
"What happened here?" Yoh exclaimed, ripping the red scarf of his wife off of the board. Bits of blonde hair were caught on the wood and in the kerchief. "Anna? Manta? Anybody here!"
A gagging noise brought the male Asakura to a standstill as something moved by the broken wall. Sunlight reflected off of it and back into his face. A bird chirped somewhere outside in a tree.
"Who are you? Show yourself!" Amidamaru floated protectively at Yoh's side as the flaming little spirit ball, ready to be integrated into the sword at anytime. A sudden flurry of movement caught his attention.
"Master Yoh! Behind you!"
The black-haired Shaman was sent crashing into the next room with the force of the blow. Something smelly walked into the now-decimated kitchen.
It was tall, unnaturally so. It smelled like a Corpse Flower newly bloomed. The aura it gave off was black and tainted, but neither Amidamaru nor Yoh could see the thing fully.
"Nng…" Yoh threw the kitchen sink off his chest. "Man! What is that thing?" Spirit Ball Amidamaru rushed to his Master's aide.
"Yooooh Assssssakuuuuuurraaaaa…"
A long cape fluttered out of nowhere, and a Dracula look-alike stood before them in all…its glory.
"Finnallllyyyy, I haaaaave yoooou…"
"Finally…have…me? Amidamaru? Any idea what this creep is talking about?" Getting up, Yoh inspected Harusame to make sure the precious blade wasn't damaged.
'Not a clue, Yoh.' The samurai answered truthfully. A little piece of the spirit flew off and crackled in the air. Sniffing a bit, Yoh raised Harusame a bit into the air. A clear sign he wanted Amidamaru ready to integrate.
The Dracula thing snickered--which led to a nice bout of coughing. It still wasn't used to having a real, living, flesh-and-blood body. A bit of spit flew out from between full, parted lips, and some phlegm popped into the throat to say 'Hello!'
"Thaaat puuuuny shooooorddd willl dooo yooou nooo geeewwwd agaaaiiinsssst meee Asssakoooraaa…" the thing had a funny hissing accent that just grated on your nerves.
"Amidamaru!" Yoh held the sword straight up and a glowing light emitted from it. The said samurai flew up into the air, glowing a brighter red than before. "Into the sword!" in a flash of light, the spirit and the sword became one, forming Yoh's Over Soul. However, the thing had disappeared.
'Where did it go?'
"Beeehhiiiiiind yooooouu!" a rather large and rancid fist pounded into the Shaman's back, knocking him out the broken wall and into the open. Black particles flew out of the house and into the air, fast.
'Lord Yoh, behind you again!'
This time, Yoh was ready when the fist came flying at him. He brought Harusame up level with his neck to block the oncoming blow. Little crackling bits of lighting flew every which way at the point where flesh and metal met.
"Wow, this dude's stronger than he looks!" Yoh stated good-naturedly as he moved out of the way of another blow. The ground outside the Fubari Onsen Hotel began to dot with holes, bits of flesh and blood. Every strike Yoh made with Harusame pulled out chunks of skin, muscle and blood, but no matter where he struck, the thing kept coming back for more. The neck was blushing out blood, for Buddha's sake!
"What's going on, Amidamaru? Why hasn't he died yet?" parrying another blow, Yoh jumped back a few feet to catch his breath. The thing in front of him was a mess of gashes, severs, broken bones and any other injury you could think of…but it was still standing there, tall and proud. It was even grinning; baring long pointed, pearly white fangs at the same time.
'I'm not sure, Lord Yoh. But something is giving power to this monster. We must find what connects this thing to it's master and sever it!'
"Easy enough!" the brunette dodged a roundhouse kick to his face and jumped into the air, twisting his body so that he landed behind the Dracula-look-alike. The stench eminatting from the thing—even from about ten feet away—lulled the smelling senses to sleep. Yoh wanted to gag. Rotting meat—that overpowering smell of everything someone hates sticking it's disgusting finger right up Yoh's nose. Even Amidamaru was sickened…but only because of the sight.
And that's when he spotted it. A small, silver thread swaying with the movement of the Dracula-dude. If that wasn't it, then Yoh hoped to be struck by lightning.
He was sent flying backwards before he could get a chance to strike at the string.
"Do you honestly think you can destroy my puppet that easily?"
Something cackled evilly in the shadows. All that was visible of the speaker was a pair of fierce yellow eyes. …and that voice…Yoh was sure he knew it…
Best not to think of that now…
Yoh jumped over the next attack with ease and struck at the cord with Harusame. "Shock wave Buddha-giri!"
Harusame bounced away, and the string remained.
"What!!" both Amidamaru and Yoh screamed at the same time. Their faces were mirrors of shock: eyes white, jaws hitting the ground in synch. Yoh almost lost his over-soul.
Rubbing the back of his head, Yoh sighed.
"This could take longer than I thought…"
Author's Notes: ::twitch:: ::twitch::Yaoi Junkies,
The following review has been submitted to: Demon's Eye Chapter: 1
From: FLAMING DEVIL()
US FLAMERS ARE RIGHT YOU BITCH YAOI SUCKS GAY ASS I ALSO JUST CAME HERE
TO FLAME AND FLME THROWER 6 IS RIGHT YAOI SHOULD BURN IN HELL!
Why do I get the feeling that that dude is really Flamethrower? Can people not read warnings/disclaimers/…or can they just not read at all! For Christ sake, flamers…STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM OUR STORY!! You are crazy, uncivilized bastards that don't deserve to review a story. Especially OURS. Sheesh.
Falcon Strife: Me? Patient? Saroya? Patient? Hardly. They just piss us off. You should see us bitching back and forth at each other. Hope this chapter satisfies your needs
--Can someone verify that attack title? I'm not too sure...
Story Title: Demon's Eye by Deep Purple
Chapter Title: Down With the Sickness by Disturbed