Chapter 4

Ahhh, my head hurts so much...

"The chains tighten and shatter into pieces. Screams, I hear screams all around me... Someone attempts to attack me, fool,

mere second - and he is just a pile of meet and bones on the floor..."

It hurts, oh, my head hurts so badly...

"I growl, jump in the crowd of shadows and slash my paw through them... More screams... More blood..."

Oh, God, it hurts...

"They got me... Argh! I feel pain in my left side, cold metal stuck into my flesh... That hurt, bastard! I jump into the window, the only exit they forgot to block... How stupid of them..."

Stop! Stop pounding like crazy!

"In a silver flash of light, I fall down, feeling the cold night air brush against my fur. I stand up on my four, realizing that the metal spear is still in my left side... I give out a soft growl and attempt to take it out with my jaws... Dark blood rushes out of my wound, pouring on the ground with a loud and disturbing sound..."

Its so cold all of the sudden...

I sit up on my... bed?

What?

This can't be... This is not happening... What IS happening anyway?!

A second ago... I thought... I thought...

Grandmother and me were kidnapped...

I was in a cage... yes, a cage.

Moon... Silver, beautiful light...

Me... Changing...

A headache, a horrible hedache...

Was this all a dream?

It was morning. The sun already rose. I heard the usual village noises you hear in the morning - kids laughting, people rushing, the screaking of the wheels, the barking of dogs. My window, oddly, was open. I hate sleeping with an open window, it gives me sence of insecurity and fear. I slowly got up and walked to close it.

The light coming through the leaves of an old oak was golden-green. Its branches were slowly dancing with the wind, allowing quick sparkles of light to pass through. I took a deep breath and sneezed immideately. I should've known better - my window on the second floor was facing a busy and dusty street.

I started to close the window, but then I noticed something odd...

A little piece of paper, only as big as my palm was pierced through the very middle of it with a bent nail and stuck to the frame of my window. I quickly reached to get it and my eyes widened in surprise - it was a note written on a hustly torn out piece of yesterday's newspaper with unaccurately words scrumbled with some cheap ink.

"Read and understand, little girl.

For this is the only help you shall recieve.

Lay low.

Eternal way of the Damned lies to the opposite."

Lay low... Way of the Damned? Huh? What kind of note is that? I was puzzled. The window seemed to be open just now... Yes, about now - it sould be the cold coming from the outside that woke me up. Then... Someone was there. Someone was in my room! Or at my window, at least; and it couldn't possibly be Grandmother - the note was way too high for her, she couldn't reach all the way up considering her age. And what's the point of her leaving me such cryptic and unreasonable note on the first place?

Hold on.

Grandmother.

"Men dressed in black... The throat and kunai... Strange demands... Me, knocked unconscious..."

Oh, yes. The dream, all a dream... no reason to panic. But man, did that dream seem real!

I dressed up and looked at myself at the mirror.

Average height... well, for my age at least. Skinny as a tree in winter. Long, thin, light hair that were forever tied in a low ponytail - for some reason I always comb it like this. But no matter what I do to it, no matter how hard I push on the comb, no matter how tight I tie the black satin lace around it - thin strands of hair always fall on my face. I hate that!

Well, overally I was average. The kids from around our neighbourhood called me "ghost" - for my pale skin, eyes, hair, and my preferation of grey colors. A little grey mouse.

But there was a reason I liked grey. I never was a kid that liked a crowd (I am still really uncomfortable with people I don't know, especially the ones of my age) - I would always rather take a walk in the park, explore the empty sunrise streets, or read a book in some quiet, abandoned place. Alone. My grey clothing was helping in a way - I ether blended with the walls or the road or was just too small and grey to be noticed.

As I observed myself, I realized that I am still holding the note I found on the window. I shook my shoulders and stuck it in my left pocket.

I never thought then that that might be the last time I saw my own reflection.

I slowly walked down the stairs, listening to the familiar screeching of the old wood panels, brushing my palm against the smooth surface of the wall. A comforting smell of something being cooked in the kitchen, a noise of water running, the usual morning mutter... Everything was cuddling my mind and soul; the suspicions of my dreams were slowly floating away in the sea of this tender warmth...

I was met by a loving smile on Grandmother's face as I approached the tiny kitchen.

"Awake already, my darling? Has something happened you look rather worried?" she asked softly.

"Yes... I mean, no, not at all. Just a bad dream, I think..."

"Oh, a bad dream, you say? Mind to tell your good old Grandmother about it?"

"Uh... sure... I do not remember it that well though... You were kidnapped, and... No, its me who was kidnapped, I was scared, and cold, and there were those people..." I murmured. Those memories of my dream... were slowly floating away, like any dream does after a while. But I just woke up... Why do they disappear so fast?

"Nothing to worry..." Grandmother softly stroked my hair.

"A moon... A light... Blood..."

"Just a dream, my darling..."

"A monster... Me..."

"Just close your eyes, my dearest... Just forget it, it is nothing to worry about... Just a dream..."

"Just a dream..." I was lulled by her soft voice...

Just a dream...

Nothing to worry about...

None of that horror happened...

Everything is back to normal...

"Everything is fine now, my little angel," Grandmother stroked my hair once more, planting a wet kiss on my temple." Just forget about it now, it is just a bad dream..."

"Yes..."I smiled, and went up the stairs minding to take a shower.

"And where do you think you are going?" I heard a yell from downstairs.

"I'll just take a shower... I'll be quick!" I answered.

I took my bathing robe out and turned the water on.

Damn! The towel!

I forgot the towel in my room, how very like me. Forgetting... things.

I sighed and let the water run as I walked back to my room. Swinging the soft cloth around my shoulder I was about to slid the door closed, when I heard the phone ring.

I sprinted towards Grandmother's room and lift the phone, blindly realizing that Grandmother picked it up downstairs as well. There I stood, torn between an honest intention to listen to the conversation and an urge to put it back. Now... I was an eleven-year-old girl.

Curiosity took over pretty fast.

"...remember it still?" a voice with no tone questioned. It sounded like whisper of two papers being stroked against each other. Quiet, yet disturbing voice.

"Not entirely," I heard Grandmother say. "But I'm not sure if Genjutsu will last any longer. An hour, perhaps... Then I'll put her to sleep again. The brat is a lot of trouble lately."

"Did she have any visitors?"

"No. But when I came to her with another injection her window was swung open. I went to close it, but she started waking up."

"Keep an eye on her. She must not, by any circumstances, escape; she is too much of an importance now."

"Our first Chitsuke to survive in years, yes... But are you sure she's fit?"

"Again, you are questioning Mother's orders! She's perfect. An orphan... well, legally."

"I am her guardian by law."

"Yes... That is just what we need for the moment; the authorities have no suspicion whatsoever."

"But what will we do for the next moon?"

"We will tame her until then, I suppose. Then we will use and dispose of her. The cleanup will take about a month... We will proclaim her missing; the search parties will last for a year or so."

"Perfect timing."

"Perfect timing indeed. Just enough time to recover the Chitsuke and find a new host. So... what are you going to do to her now?"

"I can feel the Genjutsu I put on her weaken already, so I think she should be able to see it by now. I need to take all mirrors out of the house as soon as possible, it is too much of a..."

I didn't listen anymore. I was watching the phone swing back and forth on the chord. Back and forth. Back and forth. A strange white pendulum.

My head was buried in my knees, my face wet of sweat and my hair sticking to my forehead.

My heart was beating across my ribs like a lone bird in a cage. I was biting on my lip so hard I could feel the salty drops of blood with my tongue.

My right hand was clinging to my arm, to the space just above my left elbow.

I could feel it. Seven little bumps on my skin.

Seven little red dots.

Seven tranquilizer injections.

My head was a whirlpool of thoughts... But one thing stood out clear as the mountain air.

Run. Run for your life, Anita. Run before they catch you.

Run before they find out what you've done.

Run before they make you hurt again.

Run before you turn into that thing.

Run, Anita. Run for your life.

Half an hour ago, I would have a million reasons not to do so. Half an hour ago, I would find a million explanations of that strange conversation. Half an hour ago... was half an hour ago.

I breathed heavily as I ran down the road with no particular direction. Forward, only forward and away from the home, down the dusty road. No, not from the "home". From that place.

I could not go back, not after what happened. And no, it was not the phone conversation.

My sandals were kicking up small clouds of dust behind me, dust was slithering between my toes, it tickled and annoyed. But that's what you get when running down the road in the Village Hidden in the Leaves where the temperature outside did not drop below the boiling point for nearly a month already.

That was pretty strange, but the meteorologists say it was because of rapid sandstorms in the nearby Suna. I never believed the meteorologists. Nor I do now.

Sweat was blinding my eyes, but shock and adrenaline pumped in my veins like crazy giving me the speed and energy I needed.

Good.

For now.

Here I sat; hand on the spot just above my elbow, nails dug deep into my skin, eyes solemnly watching the phone stop it's swinging.

I got up, dropping the towel on the floor - not that that matters anymore or anyhow.

I walked to the bathroom door, ever so slowly turning the water off. The air smelled moist and sour.

What do I do now?

I sat on the edge of wood-encircled bathtub, thinking, thinking, thinking...

Think.

Think, Anita, think...

Was that conversation about me?

Yes, my mind answered.

Was Grandmother involved in this?

Yes.

Did she stuff me up with tranquilizer like a goose with apples?

Yes.

Did she mean to harm me in any way?

Perhaps, but not now.

Was that dream a reality?

Most certainly.

Will it happen again?

You don't know.

Am I going to die?

Silence.

Am I?

No answer.

I let my hand slide away from the seven red bumps on my skin.

And just sat there, intensively thinking.

Am I going to die?

And what is there, just behind the curtain of pain? An eternity of heaven? An eternity of hell? An eternity at all?

Or will there just be silence and darkness, forever?

And am I really that afraid of death?

My hands were shaking, my fingers interlacing with each other in a nervous pattern.

So many questions. I want answers.

I NEED answers.

Now or never.

I stood up, and rushed towards the stairs... I will talk to Grandmother. I will ask her questions. I will get my answers. Should I tell her about me listening to th...

And then it happened.

Nothing supernatural, nothing extremely unusual or fascinating. Nothing out-of ordinary.

I bumped into something warm and solid.

Warm.

Soft.

And it smelled like homemade cookies... No, pancakes. I'm pretty sure of it.

Warm cloth nuzzled my nose for a second, and then it tipped down.

And then it fell.

With widening eyes, I watched the body bounce down the stairs all the way to the bottom.

Bum. Bum. Bum.

A soft "bum" echoed down the house every time it hit the hardwood step.

My eyes grew wider and wider with every "bum". My body shivered harder and harder. My hand clasped my mouth tighter and tighter.

My heart beat louder and louder

I heard an ugly crack.

There she was.

Her neck twisted.

Her right leg swung at

(her neck TWISTED)

an impossible angle.

Blood dripping down the corner of her mouth.

A spatula

(oh God, oh GOD, her neck is TWISTED)

still in her hand.

My Grandmother.

Dead.

Once again, I felt my body turn into a pile of shaking jelly. I grasped my hands into the railings.

Dead.

I just stood there, unable to take a step forward, unable to even blink. I knew and I've read about people being paralyzed with fear and shock, but I never imagined it to be like this. Unable to move a single muscle, an ultimate fear trap.

Come on, Anita... Go down, one step at a time. One-two. One-two. Snap out of it!

Dead.

For a second I thought I saw a smirk on Grandmother's face.

"Come on down and lay here with me, Anita. Come on and feel my cold. Come down and touch my neck, look how twisted it is. Come down, child, and I'll show you how badly it hurts to die."

"NO!" I shrieked, feeling my hands slip from the railings and grasp the thin air.

For a moment, I thought I saw the gates of Hell open before my eyes.

"Yes, my child, hell. Hell is where you are going to go. Just like all those murderers and thieves. You stole my life away, Anita. You KILLED me. Naughty little girls will be PUNISHED. And you will be in PAIN for this for ETERNITY..."

I didn't fall. My hands securely clashed around the railing bars at the last second.

Grandmother never had that last second.

"SHUT UP!' I yelled. "You are dead, you hear me?!? YOU CAN'T TALK! You will not tell me what to do, you are DEAD! DEAD! DEAD!"

The corpse lay unmoved and silent.

I let go of the railings and rushed up to my bedroom.

I panted heavily, sticking out a tongue like a tired dog. It is hot. The afternoon is coming like crazy, and it will only worsen as the time passes. Better save my energy, sit down and eat...

There, I see a cafe ahead. Cafes usually have tables and chairs, right?

Come on, just a little more... Almost made it...

I sighed with relief as I stepped into the shade of a small cafe, closing the door behind me and hearing the doorbell ring a cheerful tune. I set myself in the very corner, half-hidden behind a plant with wide, spiky leaves. A small palm, perhaps?

I unzipped my bagpack and took out small ceramic thermos and an apple. No one came up to me and asked if I wanted to order something... Do they have people like me come here very often, I wonder?

I bit into the watery flesh of the fruit, carefully chewing on every bit of it, sucking all the juice. I've heard somewhere, that the slower you eat, the longer you will not feel hunger. Which was very important to me right now... to prolong my food and money as long as I could, until I figure out what to do.

I looked around, my eyes slowly adapted from the blinding shine outside to the calming half-darkness of the cafe.

There were four tables ahead of me, each accompanied by two or three chairs and covered with a fresh snow-white napkin. There were two visitors besides me in there; a pale woman slipped her morning coffee in an opposite corner, and a man in a green hat that was carelessly pulled to the back of his head. The man was closer than woman; he sat right in front of the large window. The turned-around letters on the glass read "foC s'arihsaN"... I mentally flipped them and got "Nashira's Cof". Coffee Shop, probably. I couldn't see the rest of the phrase; thick navy curtains were blocking it out.

I turned around, and saw a chalk board with half-erased prices written on it. Which reminds me... Just how much money do I have left?

I checked my right pocket, but it was empty. I put my hand in another one, and took out three pieces of paper, ten thousand yen's worth each. A bill for another twenty-eight thousand yen. A countless bunch of metal coins. A piece of newspaper.

A piece of newspaper?

I put the money back, observing the note. Hey... That's the very note I found on my window this morning!

"Read and understand, little girl.

For this is the only help you shall receive.

Lay low.

Eternal way of the Damned lies to the opposite."

I stroke my chin, still puzzled by the message.

Grandmother...

I shivered.

Grandmother said that she saw my window swing open. Which means that she couldn't possibly leave the note, which is even clearer now considerign that she and whoever was on her side were after me.

So that note must've come from the opposite side of whatever is going on. That makes the Person that left me the message my ally... Doesn't it?

Ridiculous thoughts. Even if the Person was my "ally", what was he... she... It trying to say?

It doesn't make sense. Doesn't make sense at all.

I scanned the words once again, still without any ideas whatsoever.

I looked at the large clock to my right only to see that there was about an hour left until noon. By then, there will be simply too hot outside for people to come in, they will be all stuck inside their well-conditioned houses slipping ice cold lemonade and watching some fuzzy soap operas. Which is good, because there will be barely anyone to notice or bother me on my way.

And bad, because a lonely girl running across the streets is an easy target.

Goosebumps crawled across my spine, as I thought about it. An easy target. Who was after me, anyway?

First, the people in black. When will they find out that Grandmother is dead and I ran away? Did they call yet and got no answer?

Second, the police or whoever there is in the crime department. Corpses cannot just lie around without anyone noticing. But then again, they could call it a house accident, can't they? It was an accident after all... wasn't it?

Again, I felt myself shake with no symptoms of fever or cold.

Concentrate... Anita, concentrate. You should not let yourself go if you want to survive.

Then again, sooner or later they'll notice that I'm gone. Probably sooner than later. Then what?

Where am I going to go?

I shake my head and returne to the note.

I swore out loud. And by "out loud" I mean OUT LOUD.

Quickly, I ducked under the table. Whoops. Did they hear it?

But there were no "them", apparently. Both woman and man were gone. I sighed with relief.

The sheet of paper hastily torn out of my notebook lied in front of me. Beside it, a pencil and that very note.

THAT GODDAMNED NOTE.

For how long have I been trying to figure it out? Minutes? Hours?

Eternity.

I swore again, this time making sure no one could hear me.

Lay low... my ass.

I tried reading the note backwards.

I tried mixing the words together.

I tried circling every third letter.

I tried circling every fourth letter.

Heavens... I tried anything I could do with this note. Anything. EVERYTHING.

I was at my boiling point.

Eternal way of the Damned lies to the opposite.

I grumbled. Whoever sent this to me is ether extremely crafty or enjoys the sufferings of others.

I glanced at the table, noting the poor apple I left untouched. I bit into it hard, as if trying to take my anger off on the innocent fruit.

"It's all your fault," I said, accusingly pointing a finger at the note and chewing on the apple.

Yeah, that's right. First you blame unliving things in something they didn't do. Then what, talking to yourself? Oh, hold on, scratch that. I've gone through this one already.

I heard the doorbell ring and the door swing open. The sudden current of wind picked up my notebook sheet and I bended down to pick it up.

I glanced at it, and couldn't believe my eyes.

I held it backwards now, and I was looking at the place where I wrote out every single word of the note. Every word - new line.

I turned it around.

Lay

Low

Eternal

Way

of

the

Damned

Lies

to

the

Opposite

I turned it around again.

Opposite

the

to

Lies

Damned

the

of

Way

Eternal

Low

Lay

The capital letters clearly spelled:

O
L
D

W
E
L
L