Anathem of the Night
Alright, sorry this took so long. I had a horrible bout of writer's block, then I got grounded, and then I had to start my summer homework. I'm still not done with my school work, and now that the dreaded day of school draws closer, I don't know when then next time I will update will be. As I am a senior and have only two core classes, I should have enough free time to write, but I won't make any promises! Much love! Enjoy!
Chapter II: She Lives in Hell
The temple appeared to be Grecian in structure, though the pinpoint reason why was hard to place. The style just had the air of shrine dedicated for one of the many gods in mythology. Its stone walls were brilliantly bathed in an unnatural silver aura. The floor mostly comprised with the same cool stone, with the exception of several, evenly space circular patches of earth that served home to shining yew saplings; their gnarled trunks twisted out of the ground, yet looked smooth in texture. On both sides of the temple clear, crisp water flowed from the mouths of stone wolves. The small sliver of moon that shone from the empty area where a ceiling should have been let its pale, pearly light pool in the centre of the building, illuminating a high sterling altar.
The altar consisted of a platform, three pillars, and a circular ring that sat atop the columns like a glorious, lunar crown. The base was surrounded by flowers so white, they emanated a vampyric glow; their soft petals swayed gently in the cool evening breeze. Gold vines had been welded around the pillars, their tiny leaves twinkled and the yellow coloured flowers contained a miniscule diamond in the centre. The silver crown of the altar was engraved with ancient runes, all faintly familiar, but their meaning lost.
Although the temple had a tranquil appearance, the distinct chill of fear filled every crease and crack of the structure, rising from each direction. The peacefulness had been nothing but a clever guise, a blanket thrown to cover up the truth. The truth was that this temple was meant for a dark purpose; a purpose that could do no good. The moonlight's radiant effects were no longer present. Everything turned shady and ugly; the shadows began to take a somewhat physical form. A tall man stepped out, laughing a deep, sinister laugh. Fear now hung heavily in the air. In the distance, a scream rang out.
The girl's own frightened scream woke her from her less than dreamless sleep. She sat up, her chest pounding as she surveyed her surroundings. It soon dawned on her that she was no where familiar, but instinct told her that she was in no danger. The living room was simple, yet comforting.
What happened? Images flashed in her head. She remembered walking home from her ritual coffee run. Then those…things grabbed me. Entirely black bodies, horrifying twisted limbs, thin fingers with an unnaturally strong grip, and that glowing insignia. Why do I feel like I've seen that symbol before? There were two boys, demanding her release. After that, her memory went blank. She groaned, putting her hands to her head in hopes of dulling the pain that seared between her eyes.
Slowly the sensation lifted. She felt bandages above her left eyebrow and her damp hair. Why is my hair wet? A clash of thunder erupted outside the tiny window, immediately answering her question. She pulled back the grey comforter that had been placed upon her, noticing her original clothing was missing. Instead of the black leather jacket, purple and black striped tee shirt, and dark blue jeans, she was donning a white spaghetti strap and baby blue cotton shorts.
"Meow."
The looked down. A white and brown cat was slinking toward her. The cat lightly jumped in her lap and purred gratefully as she scratched behind its ears.
"It's good to see you are awake." Kurama smiled as he walked in. He sat on the couch opposite from the girl. "How is your head?"
"Oh! Fine." She instantly recognized him from the alley. It was hard to forget such beautiful red hair. "Thank you for earlier…um-?"
"Call me Kurama."
"Kurama," she repeated softly. The confusion swimming in her mind was becoming
unbearable. So much had happened, things she didn't fully comprehend at the moment and wasn't all convinced was reality. Well, only one way to get an answer." She finally burst. "What exactly happened back there? In the alley? What were those things and what did they want with me?"
Before Kurama could give any form of explanation, a commotion could be heard from the next room. "Perhaps we should go to the kitchen."
"Come on Urameshi! You can't possibly think it was all coincidence? You and Kurama take a stroll down who-cares and that girl just happens to be attacked my things that aren't from this world?"
"What are you saying Kuwabara?"
"I'm saying it's too suspicious! It has set-up written all over it!"
"You saw her! What could she possibly be?"
"She could be a brain-sucking alien form an alternate dimension!"
"Well, if she is a brain-sucking alien, I hope she gets to you first, not that it would distract her for long."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Figure it out! Just don't hurt yourself!"
"Why you-"
"Ahem!"
Yusuke and Kazuma Kuwabara dropped their argument at Kurama's interruption. Beside him stood the rumoured 'brain-sucking alien,' Kuwabara's cat, Eikitchi, cradled lazily in her arms and the grey comforter hanging loosely from her shoulders.
She was a classic beauty with a slight dash of sensuality. Her skin was pale, the colour of ivory. Her shiny raven black hair shone under the fluorescent kitchen lights; the tips touched her lower back. Despite all she had been through, it was completely straight, as if she had just brushed it. Her most stunning feature was apparent. Her eyes were dramatic in shape and were such a deep blue, it was as though she held the night sky in them, stars included; in the blue depths of her eye were flecks of silver here and there. She was of average height, 5'5 at the most. Her build was generally slender, with just the right amount of curve where there was supposed to be. She giggled as Kuwabara's face flushed and his eyes shifted to the floor. Her voice was soft, like a summer breeze. Her smile showed straight teeth.
Yusuke wore a triumphant sneer, knowing he was right. There was nothing strange about this girl and it was apparent she was human. Kuwabara's sister, Shizuru sat at the kitchen table. She looked slightly amused by her brother's embarrassment; she took a drag from her cigarette. The entire room remained awkwardly silent for several moments.
Finally Shizuru broke the silence. "Why don't you sit down?"
The entire room seemed to sigh in relief as time resumed.
"Wait sis, there are five people and only four chairs-"
"So be a gentleman and offer the pretty little lady yours," Shizuru replied as she reached for one of the legs on Kuwabara's chair. He gave a yell of mingled surprise and pain as he tumbled to the floor; Shizuru having swiftly pulled the chair out from under him. Shizuru slid the chair towards the girl; both she and Kurama took a seat, the girl let the cat down before doing so. Kuwabara managed to pull himself up and was forced to stand nearby. His faced burned red.
"Yusuke," Kurama started, sounding incredibly business-like, "I was about to explain to-"
"Setsuko. Setsuko Nagasawa."
"To Setsuko about…well-"
"The demons," Yusuke offered.
"Yes."
"Those things were demons?" Setsuko asked. She looked to Yusuke with an expression an interested school kid would give a professor.
"Well, they weren't kittens," Yusuke said sarcastically. With that, Yusuke began to delve into past adventures as a Spirit Detective. He spent the next hour and a half explaining about the the demon and spirit worlds, introduced the rest of the table, mentioned Koenma, and described several of his fights and rivals, with help Kurama every now and then. Through out the whole conversation, Setsuko remained surprisingly calm, not reacting as most people would have upon learning that the human race wasn't the only one in existence.
"All this still doesn't explain why these demons came after me, but it does shed some light on a few things. All these years and people though I was either imaginative or crazy, but really I can just sense other spirits and things like you guys. Is that why they attacked? Because I could sense them?" Setsuko asked as she ran her fingers through her now dry hair.
"I think the more important question is who sent them. They were a lower class of demon, not even literate; they couldn't have eve made it across the barrier alone. I have a feeling you were a target," Kurama said. He held his hand to chin as he continued to try and sort out the entire ordeal.
"Why would someone target me?"
"Maybe it was just stronger demon who likes practical jokes," Kuwabara suggested.
"Don't be stupid," said Shizuru.
"What were you doing in that part of town anyway?" Yusuke gave Setsuko a suspicious look. It was hard to tell people for what they really were these days. Maybe Kuwabara's right…in a way. Anybody could by a prostitute of drug dealer.
"I was walking home from-Oh shit!" Setsuko's eyes practically flew to the cat-shaped wall clock; it read 2:27- nearly two and a half hours after the curfew set by her strict, yet loving legal guardians. "Shit," she repeated as got up, "my parents are going to kill me!"
Kurama stood up as well. "I'll walk you home, just in case," he offered. Setsuko nodded, and then thanked the group for their help.
Yusuke also vacated his chair. "I guess I should go too, though my mom's probably too wasted to notice that I'm not home."
After bidding the Kuwabara siblings farewell, the other three walked together until Yusuke had to depart in the opposite direction. For twenty three more minutes, Kurama and Setsuko continued their walk, talking all the while. Kurama was pleased to find an individual as open minded as she was, and they quickly became friends. They talked about a varying range of subjects, including literature, paranormal experiences, and their opinions on natural selection. After exchanging contacts, Setsuko informed Kurama that they had reached their destination- an apartment building that was in slightly better condition than those surrounding it. Only two of its windows were broken, and the graffiti that had been sprayed on was less obscene.
"Well, thank you again," Setsuko said as she shook Kurama's' hand. "I'll call you if anything else happens."
Kurama scanned the building. Something was bothering him; he could feel an unusual aura coming from within its grimy brick walls. A chill ran through him as the faint yet unmistakably scent of blood wafted under his sensitive nose. "Perhaps I should take you inside as well," he said, his voice darker than usual. He seemed to be tensing up; Setsuko was strongly reminded of a dog that was being threatened, its fur bristling.
"If you insist." She couldn't think of anything that could possibly go wrong, except for the fact that her parents would be angry with her for returning home so late. Sure they rest of the building's inhabitants weren't exactly model citizens, but she had lived here her life and she knew how to deal with them. Still, she trusted Kurama; He is a demon after. He can probably sense things like that.
She twisted the knob of the building's main entrance. As they walked through several hallways and up two flights of stairs, Kurama realized just how small of an income the Nagasawas received. Most of the walls looked as though they would crumble at the smallest disturbance; its cream coloured paint was peeling away at an astonishing rate, and he had counted at least seven cockroaches. At last, Setsuko reached the door to her family's dwelling; an alarm went off in Kurama's head. Something wrong had definitely happened. The source of the blood he smelled earlier was apparent.
"Setsuko, wait-" His warning came too late; the girl had already forced the door open.
Setsuko gave a scream of horror at the grisly sight that had once been her welcoming home. So much blood was dripping from the ceiling, it was as if a morbid rain had started to pour. It was smeared across the walls like macabre paint; even the floor had a slick, shiny coat of crimson. The stench was stinger than ever, even the human Setsuko could identify it. The furniture, although forever death stained, seemed perfectly intact and showed no sign of struggle. Kurama knew he could not stop the shaken girl from exploring the rest of the tiny apartment.
The kitchen held even more despair for the orphaned teen. Judging by the gore on the usually clean tiles, something or some one had lost limbs. There was a path of blood leading into a far corner, what was at is end confirmed the theory. Setsuko gave a lurch and clamped her hand to her mouth to keep the sick that was threatening to rise and expel itself. She saw her parents' bodies- or what pieces were in that particular area. Her father's leg was laying next to her mother's torso, his usual house slipper still on hi s foot. An ear was several inches way from her own foot; her mother's, as the rhinestoned lobe told. Father's green eye, mother's slender hand, another gashed arm, a jaw.
Body part after body part; organ after organ, Setsuko finally returned to the doorway. She was shaking violently, her eyes were wide and alert, but the rest of her demeanor was visibly exhausted from the tour of hell. It was too much for her; she flung herself into Kurama, sobbing heavily for her lost loved ones.
Kurama held her in a tight embrace, knowing that it was the only form of comfort he could give the grief-stricken teen at the present moment. Words meant nothing now. The shock hit her hard. He couldn't think of anyway to describe the murder scene. Any word seemed too sugar-coated. He continued to hold her, ignoring the fact that his front was sufficiently damp with her sorrow.
"It seems I arrived too late. I was hoping to get here before you two; I didn't want her to see it. Awful sight in there, isn't it?"
Kurama turned his head to discover the speaker. At last, someone who hopefully knows the cause of all these recent events. "Hello, Koenma."