In that minuscule moment, such a momentous rush of panic, horror…and guilt catapulted my legs forward. At first, I ran just beyond the tree line, but as nerves set in away from the eyes of anyone witnessing and the black from my eyes receded as apprehension superseded rage my body moved in a desperate, primeval way. Involuntarily, my body sent electric signals to my legs and they whipped beneath me so violently that I felt the earth churn at my feet and icy wind pelt my face.
Ahead of me, the glow of gas streetlights grew brighter and I felt rather than saw the warm bodies just beyond the tree line on the other side of the park. After throwing caution to the wind and barreling through the woods with all the intelligence of a cornered animal, I felt the familiar pang of hunger and my instincts roaring for me to simply bulldoze into the closest body and-
With outstretched hand, I crouched and forcefully burrowed it into the ground. My body flew from under me and met the ground with a crash sliding across dead leaves and shrubbery while my arm kept me anchored to the ground. I slid to a halt just behind a hedge sheltering me from the gazes of confused teenagers.
"Did you hear that!" A gangly teenage boy hastily gripped the arm of his companion, tearing her away from my crash site behind the bushes. "Don't be such a baby." An irritated voice replied and I waited until their voices faded in the distance before standing up and dusting off my trench coat of the remnants of forest I had just familiarized myself with.
I hastened towards the alleyway that ran parallel to the strip. Before being zombiefied, I was warned never to walk in the alleys behind the shops and restaurants at night because of what may loiter in the darkness, but now it afforded me the luxury of moving quickly throughout town. Now, as a zombie it seemed pointless to avoid the looming walkway that seemed to shirk from the bright lights of the main strip full of people. Avoiding the alleyways certainly didn't prevent the attack a year ago.
I was galvanized into action and all it took was a brief look. One fleeting transition of recognition to disbelief and a trace of revulsion in Kuwabara's steely, dark eyes had sent me pummeling into the alleyways with legs automatically moving on their own. He saw me. The thought stilled me and my legs abruptly came to a stiff halt. He called my name. My breath came suddenly and painfully, a poor mimicry of hyperventilation when I was still alive. But, wait.
Why was Kuwabara there, in the woods with my attacker? I took stock of my surroundings, but there wasn't much to see. Two brick walls encased in shadows on either side of where I stood kept me from prying eyes. My eyes glazed over and all fidgets and involuntary movements I had practiced to seem human ceased as the breath paused in my throat.
See, when I zone out, it's normally because I'm hungry or in deep contemplation. I become the rigor mortis body that personified my descension into zombiehood. In one moment, I was alive and the next I wasn't. But because of the state of my body in its truest form, I could do something truly curious. They say when you die the last image you see is imprinted on your eyes…sort of like a negative photograph of your last memory. However, I was dead, yet unceasingly animated so all those images became a compendium of frames in my mind that could form a moving picture. And, only when I was zoned out with eyes opaque could I replay memories of what had taken place moments ago in the woods.
I flipped through the memories like a librarian turning a page with finger pulling the image of the gazebo turned rubble on the ground. I watched with a sort of detachment as someone watching a boring movie. When I was there in the moment, I was so focused on my objective, the white haired man standing just to the left of the gazebo, that I barely saw anything else. A body, there. Soaring through the air like a tossed ragdoll in a stream of orange hair and brown windbreaker was my former best friend Kuwabara. He met the floor hard and he was the heap on the ground I barely registered before. I heard him crash behind me.
And, then the conversation with the man that was my creator. He was tall and broad shouldered, and when he laughed that evil laugh as he saw my face it could be mistaken as warm and airy had we not been discussing the creation of ghouls. He chuckled, and his face replicated amusement, but his eyes betrayed him. They were dead and lacked the luster of vibrancy that came with life. A glint of light flickered from the fabric tucked underneath the black blazer. A name tag caught the light of fire around him and I slowly moved the memory backwards to catch the glitter of fire reflected on the aluminum painted tag.
Dr. Harada.
Then, the familiar black of rage seeped in from the boundaries of my eyes and obscured my vision. Similar to a horse with blinders I could only see what was directly in front of me. Inwardly, I cursed at myself for allowing it to happen. I watched the rest of my memory with my view impeded by the black fuzz covering anything in my peripheral. But, I didn't need my peripheral as a flurry of gold aura and legs reappeared aiming for 's face.
Kuwabara? That was Kuwabara.
The zombie doctor simply side-stepped almost instantaneously and so brief that even my decelerated memories had barely caught it. He winked at me before retreating into the black fog and finally disappearing. I hadn't caught the gesture before due to how quickly he moved but I felt a new resurgence of irritation witnessing it. Kuwabara stood up, his gold aura dissipating into the darkness.
What was that light? I had always known that Kuwabara was somewhat attuned to the otherworldy, but not in any capacity that was so…palpable. In that brief time, he looked like an entirely different person. He wasn't the fumbling, excitable newly orientation-ed freshman that I had met at the on-campus bookstore struggling to find the right titles for his classes. Nor was he the wide-eyed, easy- to-blush youth that stammered obliviously when he was being hit on by college students at mixers. He was resolute, steadfast, and…imposing.
His face appeared clearly as he walked closer lit by the bright moon overhead. A long face tempered with strong jawline, cheekbones that could cut diamonds, and a pointed nose hovered in front of me. He glanced down and curious mahogany eyes assessed me: realization, disbelief, disgust. Again, in that order. I hoped that the revulsion I'd perceived was some misunderstood interpretation on my part, but it was there. And, quickly concealed with concern.
"Yoko…where the hell have you have you been?!"
I turned away.
The wisp of breath that I held in my lungs forcefully moved from my chest out of my mouth and I jolted back to awareness. I was back in the dimness of the alleyway. At first, I crept forward clumsily readjusting to the rhythm of twitches and replicating the involuntary breathing and stirring that made everyone else alive. But, I quickly adjusted. With time and diligence, I could practice breathing so my metastasis from zoning to full action would be more seamless. I may be undead, but I could, at least, pretend to be alive.
I needed answers. I swiftly paced deeper into the alleyway and weaved through older dilapidated buildings. In my earlier stages of zombie manifestation, Miki, being a mostly nocturnal creature, wanted to display the upsides of the shitty hand I'd been dealt. She took me on a tour that would be a spectacle of oddities and curiosities. Our first stop, was a homeless man's shanty-house fitted awkwardly between three walls that met in a dead end. The same one I was standing in front of now. The wood and tin roof jutted inelegantly above a canvas entrance. The inhabitant of the house pulled the canvas back and smiled a toothless grin. His shaggy, matted hair was braided loosely and slung on one of his shoulders and his bony knees projected outward from his too small makeshift seat that was a plastic bucket.
"Could you spare some change for an old soul?" He held out his hand expectantly.
"I didn't realize there was a cover charge." I blinked at him knowingly.
"Ah. Old friend, I didn't know that was you." He stood making his way to the back of his makeshift abode and pushed a tattered canvas marked with a yellow sigil away from a stairwell dipping into the ground.
"Good to see you Octavius." I patted him on the back before descending down the steps.
"And you, friend." He called after me. I heard the shuffle of steps behind me and knew he resettled on his bucket.
Octavius, the gargoyle, was one of the first creatures I had met on my outing into the supernatural. At first, he struck me as a bizarre and wishy washy guard dog to an establishment that was barely secure. But, as I adapted to the new world of supes and acquainted myself with the unorthodox customs of its peculiar inhabitants I began to recognize Octavius for what he truly was. A keeper with undying loyalty to his cause.
As I neared the bottom of the steps the yellow sigil reappeared on the slabs of a gnarled oak door. The door arched to a point and the towering frame crisscrossed with runic symbols into branches that encased the weathered gate. The yellow sigil, a single half of a Yin Yang symbol unfilled, pulsed softly and welcoming. I pressed my hand against the sigil and the click of a rusty latch met my ears as the door sluggishly came away from the frame. I stepped past the threshold and the cacophony of sounds from within clashed against my ear.
Uproarious laughter rang from a corner where two orcs and a satyr were gulping down the last of their drinks and a gaggle of goblins egged them on. Pixies whizzed past me and buzzed with trails of light and color above me creating a crude chandelier. I strode past the bar just before a harpy came crashing down from the countertop caterwauling as she clattered into a stool. At least, The Hollow did not lack liveliness. I waved to the barkeep, a tall incubus with maroon hair and obsidian eyes. He leered at me, from behind the worn surface of the counter before tilting his head towards the end of the room. I followed the tilt of his head and found Kaito playing poker among a lamia, a harpy, and The Hollow's residential diviner, Charles.
Kaito was leaned across the table elbows propped and hands laced in a knot. His cards remained face down between his elbows as a look of amusement and self-contentment darted across his visage. And, why wouldn't he be amused especially when his closest friend need only look to the stars to see the result of a mere card game. Charles studiously let his fingers slide delicately above his cards before pausing and revealing a card to the lamia's dismay. She rose from her coiled spot like a cobra readying to strike, but instead smacked her chips on the tables. Kaito ducked as chips splashed the walls and ricocheted off the unbalanced wooden table. The lamia slithered away as her harpy friend frantically followed her out of the bar. Just as she reached the door, she molded into a young woman wearing black slacks and simple green blouse as her glamour took effect. She disappeared behind the door slamming it in the harpy's face. The harpy's feathers rustled in irritation and she joined her boisterous kin at the bar.
Charles lit up observantly and he waved me over. "I've been expecting you, Ms. Nakajima."
"Yes, I know." Exasperated, I sighed. The only downside to being acquainted with a diviner was adjusting to his literal know-it-all attitude.
"Welcome back, Yoko." Kaito's golden eyes traveled to a piece of leaf stuck to my jacket, then upwards to my face. Ever the perceptive one. "Seems you've had an exciting night."
"Oh, she has." Charles raised his hand and motioned in a beckoning gesture to a minotaur behind the bar. The minotaur disappeared momentarily before arriving at the edge of the table with a plate full of half seared, half uncooked meat. My hunger reignited at the sight of pork ribs and pulled meat and brains. Supposedly, pigs were genetically closer to humans, and my appetite agreed. The diviner looked satisfied at my surprised, but content expression. Charles knew I would be hungry and must have had them prepare it while I was on my way. Charles always knew.
"I've always admired your appetite for life."Kaito mulled over the last word. He smirked from behind his laced fingers and leaned back into the wooden chair. Charles chuckled.
"So, tell me. How did it go?" Kaito asked hopefully, but Charles held up his hand pausing him.
"If she starts now, she'll have to repeat it once Miki arrives. Let her eat first, then she can give us her version of events." Charles motioned to the plate placed in front of me and encouraged me to dig in.
I exhaled and delicately plucked a fork from the table and fought back the urge to rip at the meat with my bare hands. Instead, I split the meat with the prongs and as I took my first bite fought the jerk as my body almost lurched forward. I softly chewed and swallowed. And then another. Kaito and Charles watched me struggle internally with twin looks of appreciation on their faces.
"By god, she's got it." Kaito chuckled. "It was only a year ago that she impressively ripped a roast chicken in two and…" My eyes widened.
"No need to remind us!" I said after gulping down a too large portion of meat. My throat resisted and I sputtered.
"Well' she's almost got it." He merely smiled and stared as I gulped down water and continued my meal.
"Right. On. Time." Charles murmured as Miki burst through the entrance her eyes darting on the inhabitants of the room before landing on us. She marched over and plopped down on the empty seat between Charles and myself.
"You left me in the park. I can't believe you!" Miki threw up her hands in frustration before she waved her arm haphazardly in the air and the incubus from the bar brought her a blood beer. He placed it in her hand and winked at Miki before returning to the bar. Kaito narrowed his eyes at the exchange and his golden eyes turned into slits.
"Yes, yes I did." I responded remorsefully. "I'm sorry, Miki. I just didn't expect to see Kuwabara there." I turned the name over in my head. What was he hiding?
"Kuwabara? Why does that name sound somewhat familiar?" Kaito spoke thoughtfully.
"He's the young man that was your confidant, before Miki occupied the position." Charles answered all-knowingly.
"Right, a year ago, he was my best friend." I picked at my food listlessly as my hunger subsided somewhat. I was grateful to Charles for letting me eat. I was going to need all the strength and cognizance that came with eating brain food (no pun intended.)
"What was he doing there?" Kaito's voice became sharp and his eyes hardened.
"I'll start from the beginning." I responded to his gaze with determination. And so, I spun the narrative version that I replayed in my mind at the destroyed gazebo. Brief looks of surprise and interest played on both Miki and Kaito's face, but Charles closed his eyes and smiled mysteriously as if he had a secret. And when I ended my story, we all paused silently.
"Dr. Harada," Kaito began seriously, "is a retainer within The Company." He affixed me with a caustic gaze and reached over to clutch my wrist firmly beneath his calloused fingers. "Yoko, whatever you do, do not seek this man out."
The scholar and scribe in front of me was well-versed in the factions that existed in the supernatural world and one of the first that I was aware of that Kaito lectured me on was The Company. A league of affluential supes that valued little besides strength and wealth and viewed humans as little more than sustenance and entertainment. However, with time they slowly became a pillar of like-minded individuals that handpicked enterprising upstarts. Now, they were a conglomerate that dominated the ebb and flo of the supernatural world and had forcibly earned a chair at council altering and dictating the politics of supes.
"But my humanity-" I began.
"NO!" Kaito roared. His eyes turned bloodshot and he bared his fangs. His grip on my wrist became harsh and he yanked me out of my chair like a petulant child so my eyes were directly in front of his wild golden orbs. "Our family cannot protect you if you decide to offend The Company."
"Kaito…" Miki warned. Her eyes were locked onto his tight grip on my wrist.
"Let's calm down. After all," Charles stirred the tea in front of him with a single finger looking down at the leaves placidly, but his eyes were elsewhere as if he was seeing something just beyond the tea leaves. "Kaito is correct. It wouldn't do to go chasing after Dr. Harada because eventually," His fingers stopped stirring, "he'll find you."
Kaito and I both snapped our heads in disbelief toward Charles. He grimaced at our dual reactions, he always disliked it when we doubted him.
"You need only wait, Ms. Nakajima. Eventually, he will come after you, overstepping his boundaries to meet his only successful creation, but it's too late. You already declared allegiance to Neutrality." He took a sip from the tea. "Allow him to make the first mistake."
Neutrality was a term coined for those that were unaligned with major factions, but in a way we were a faction ourselves. We teetered between the boundaries of the other factions neither agreeing with or denying what they had to offer. And in turn, we offered many a sense of freedom and lack of obligation that many supes were demanded of when joining a faction. It was why Neutrality was attractive to supes like Octavius that were odd and didn't belong anywhere else. It was the very reason why meetings of the council were hosted on neutral grounds, an area impartial to either side. And, the leader of the neutral party, Kaito and Miki's father Daisuke Hara, was offered a chair on the council to observe the meetings with an unbiased eye.
I receded back into my wooden chair and Kaito released his hold on my darkened wrist. It turned an ugly yellow on my pale skin.
"Once he does, we'll allow one of the other factions to handle it. Exposing ourselves to scrutiny of the other factions is not our way. We will remain neutral." Charles finished and I could discern he was suppressing a smile. "Of course, there are things I can't tell you, but for now trust an old diviner." His rheumy eyes crinkled into mirth and he nodded at me in an understanding gesture.
"But, what about Kuwabara…" Miki muttered, "you said he glowed gold."
"Yes, that is another concerning matter entirely." Kaito sat back down and crossed his arms, he closed his eyes in meditation.
"It seems your friend has fallen in with an interesting crowd." Charles spoke and he placed his cup on the table.
"Interesting is not what I'd call it. More like vastly incompetent." Miki retorted and she took a swig of the beer she nursed in her hands.
"What do you mean, Miki?" Kaito inquired curiously.
"When Yoko bolted like a bat out of hell…" She grinned at me and I gave an annoyed sigh in response. "I was standing there shrugging at this tall fellow when he was asking me questions about you like 'where you living' and 'are you okay' when some guy burst from the rubble like a lune yelling, 'Did he get away?!' He ran up to where we were," Miki took another swig, "and he was suspicious, that one. He thought I might know something about Dr. Harada. I think his name was Yusuke." She shrugged.
"Anyways, when the other weirdo showed up wearing, I shit you not, a cloak, I took off faster than you can say bye. And let me tell you, those three are fast. Not as fast as me, mind you. But not human fast, you know?" She finished off her drink and she swirled the foam playfully at the bottom.
Charles held his hand out across the table and looked at me searching for something in my gaze, "Your palm, dear."
I obliged and stretched out my arm laying my hand against his palm facing up. He gripped my fingers first with his other hand and massaged his way to my palm slowly making his way to the lines toward my wrist. He released my palm slowly and rested his fingertips against the edge of the table contemplatively. "It seems I am overdue for a talk with your Father."
"If you want more answers, I suggest you return to the Hara household." Charles stood and his form dissipated into a miasma of cerulean and lavender wisps leaving the three of us remaining in bewilderment.
"That's twice that I've seen someone vanish into a poof today. I need to learn me one of those." Miki quipped.
"Shall we make our way home? I'm sure our father is eager to see the both of you since you rarely visit." Kaito stood from his spot and angled his arm in my direction. The moment when he grabbed my wrist forcefully was completely forgotten behind his eyes. As a born supernatural, incidents like that hardly called for any mention, but for me, as someone who was once human, it was still unnerving. My wrist was still darkened, but due to lack of circulation and dead nerves I barely felt it. I linked my arm with his and with Miki trailing behind us we left The Hollow.