Ashes of Sanity

Lullaby – Part 1

There was a wondrously unique beauty to be gleaned from the break of dawn. An innate and simple delight was easily derived from the divine elegance of the sun slowly cresting and then crowning the horizon. But to a man who had never missed a single sunrise in a decade there was a far greater, almost primordial appeal beyond just that. To him, the celestial body of light boldly piercing cloud and thin morning fog symbolised the very continuation of life itself.

The lone man fervently believed that life was not a beautiful thing, it was far too marred; to him, life was no more than an all too brief prelude to death, the ugly void hungering to devour every living thing that clung on to existence. The natures of the two primary absolutes that governed life waged war with one another; they decreed firstly that every life must end, yet secondly as a whole, life would always march on. There was a certain kind of forbidden and unnerving beauty found in the contrast between these two truths, the dangerous beauty of an electrical storm, of a burning building, of two swords duetting as they cleaved at air and one another in search of flesh. They were reflections all, of the purest and greatest juxtaposition that there is and ever could be, controlled chaos.

The visual splendour of a sunrise was plain to see and appreciate, even a very young child, ignorant of the matters of life and death, could recognise it. An exponentially more powerful response was evoked from observing the same sunrise while thoroughly aware that death was near, all-seeing but not content, yearning to touch and to taste. With this fresh and grim perspective, one could see themselves within the sunrise, never as the eternal sun, rather as the single, beautiful, fleeting day. The day must end just as life must die, but more days will follow. Death over life, but life over death.

If death was to assume a physical form, then without question it would merrily mimic any of the abhorrent terrors that haunt this mortal plane. Those poor and wretched few, cursed with the knowledge of them, the true monsters, very real, and far beyond ordinary blood-thirsty beasts. They are regarded to be near as illusive as the spectre of death itself and yet the shadow of their legend looms large over the land, obvious, ominous, odious. These affronts to all that is good and pure have eluded conventional understanding. Although rare, they represent a dire threat to man and as such, many have taken to dwelling in near-constant fear of the very prospect of them. The grip of terror suppresses mere mention of any such entity as if discussion could grant truth to their legend. Belief has become a heavy burden on many a mind, a crushing, consuming curse some would deem worse to live with than the grisly ends they dare not lend thought to.

Purging the world of such monstrosities was an essential duty as far as the man was concerned, the need to do so was as unmistakable as the rays of sun he observed. In a way though, these macabre perversions of nature made everything more beautiful with their ever-present threat; they were a dark catalyst that forced mortals to cherish their meagre time. He couldn't help but ponder on whether he was stealing a fraction of the beauty that mankind was capable of perceiving in their lifetimes by eliminating the terrors? It was a strange notion to consider, but years of actively pursuing blights that make every sense scream run made you somewhat strange.

To those who met him, strange defined Ash. He brought unwelcome philosophies and idiosyncrasies but a very welcome purpose. He drifted between towns looking to exact this esoteric purpose of his, tracking and killing monsters, and he rarely visited the same town twice. No one knew him when he arrived, and they were seldom given the opportunity to learn much beyond his name as Ash wouldn't linger in any one place long. He was a grizzled young man who appeared older than his years and carried a stoicism that encroached on pure apathy, on the outside at least. His defined facial features hid behind wild stubble and an array of scars. He wore a long winter cloak of thick black wool; a light dusting of snow had fallen on the once-fine fur that adorned his shoulders. It draped over a brown leather waistcoat, which offered modest protection in combat and superior manoeuvrability, which was arguably more vital. Ash's boots were of similar but darker and dirtier leather. A large, powerful-looking mahogany crossbow was slung over his back by its strap and sheathed at his belt was a long dagger. Also adorning his belt were several small pouches and vials, many containing things far more dangerous than the conventional weapons.

Whether or not solitude was something Ash desired, townspeople tended to not approach him, save the morbidly curious and the unhealthily friendly. Although company was not a concern, testimony regarding the creatures that he sought was of paramount importance, now more than ever. Children in the nearby city of Cerulean had disappeared during the recent nights, mirroring abductions in not-too-distant northern settlements. He hadn't been able to uncover anything up north prior to journeying south of the Cerulean Bay. When it was just a single tiny settlement shaken by kidnappings, Ash had thought that a member of the community must have been responsible, and he took leave soon after; humans could be monstrous but even their worst were unworthy of hunting. The circumstances had made it difficult however for Ash to believe that a human was capable of the crimes, but he had other matters that also needed investigating despite his conflicted mind beseeching him to linger a little longer and learn a little more. No one had seen nor heard anything night after night and child after child. It wasn't until Ash heard grisly reports echoing in a nearby town that he knew for certain that the culprit was no man. Something inhuman was making prey of the children of Northern Kanto.

Hesitantly, Ash tore himself away from his view of the newly risen sun that hovered over the bay. Fishermen crossed paths with him as he walked away from the gently lapping sea; they worked long days in order to supply fresh Magikarp and Goldeen, the lifeblood of their city. Powdery snow atop the fine morning frost elicited quiet but satisfying crunches underfoot as Ash covered the short distance south through the woods from the sea to the city. The trees were bare and almost skeletal, contorted into disconcerting silhouettes in the fog. A plump bird with a leek stalk in its mouth observed Ash from a thick branch as he passed its nest, it quizzically tilted its head. There wasn't much to fear from mundane animals like this bird, but Ash was contemplating what manner of monster might be responsible for the abductions. Either the thing was somehow managing to enter towns unseen with unnatural speed and guile or perhaps by assuming the shape of man. Mayhap it was luring the children to it from afar or employed illusions and appeared invisible. However the abductions were being committed, Ash would inevitably have to hunt and face the being.

Upon arrival at the perimeter of Cerulean Ash regarded the citizens that busied themselves with their daily duties; the grip of fear that seized so many parents in the town was all but invisible to an outsider's eye, but some signs were not easy to mask. Ash made his way straight back towards the inn at which he had spent the previous night. There he quickly ate a breakfast of bread and meat, a meal that he had previously elected to postpone in order to first gaze upon the morning sunrise from a suitable viewpoint. Ash then washed his meal down with water before setting out to look for the appropriate people to question. Subtle looks of grief or suppressed worry were enough to warrant a conversation. Ideally, he would identify and strike up a conversation with parents who had lost a child already, regrettably such people were likely to be sequestering themselves away with their grief or blindly wandering the wilds in a hopeless search of their own. Those he approached with the subject of missing children initially met Ash with indifference. Once tracked down, the reactions of the actual parents of the lost were far worse, naturally there were clutched by despair and often hysteria. Those believing their children were gone forever tended to turn hostile, but others diverged towards gratitude that he was at least investigating. Both responses were wreathed in a crushing overtone of hopelessness. Ash spent a large portion of his morning in this way, his success at identifying those that had suffered loss or knew those that had was his only real victory and eventually he begrudgingly returned to the inn for lunch without having acquired any useful leads.

He had resigned himself to resuming his search for useful information after a hearty lunch of fish and rice. A middle-aged woman with dark orange hair that he had not seen working there until now served him. Upon receiving his meal, Ash concluded that the city of the Cerulean Sea certainly lived up to the culinary reputation that its fish boasted. He was already halfway through his meal before he noticed that the woman who had served him exhibited the same signs of restless worry that he was looking for.

"Excuse me," Ash called out when she was near.

"Can I get you anything else, sir?" the woman replied softly, attempting to collect herself as she approached.

"The meal is superb, I couldn't ask for more. I'd rather talk about the disappearances if I may," he manoeuvred. The woman was now doing a near-perfect job of hiding how uncomfortable the topic made her, but he had already seen behind the mask. "I know it's not an easy thing to talk about, but I'm here to help and for me to have a chance I need to know more," Ash declared "Your town is not alone in this. It has to end."

The orange-haired woman clearly found Ash's words difficult to respond to, her eyes jumped around the room aimlessly as she listened. "Thank you stranger, but we've lost five children this week, nobody has seen or heard a thing. What makes you think you could stop whatever has taken them?" she asked with an unsettled quality to her voice.

"I've pursued and slain horrors that I don't care to recount, if anyone can put an end to this, it's me," Ash responded confidently but with sympathy. "You've lost a child to this monster yourself? Let me help you try to get them back."

The woman narrowed her eyebrows as she recoiled from Ash's assumption. "No, my daughter is here. She's safe. The inn keep has allowed us to stay here if I work more days and longer hours. Our house is small and on the edge of the city, the offer is exploitative, but I see it as a blessing nevertheless, to be surrounded by the safety of others at all hours," she informed the wild-looking stranger. "Still, I'm worried to death for her."

Ash swallowed a mouthful of rice and fish as the woman explained. "My dear lady, I'm elated to hear that your daughter has not fallen victim, but I am confident that if no one acts, many more will," He told her bluntly with almost unnaturally static eye contact, "Perhaps her among them."

A dark and pregnant pause hung over the conversation as the two stared at one another until the woman finally opened her mouth to break it. "But… how can I help you if I have nothing substantial to tell you?"

"It's unfortunate that no one here seems to know any more than the other afflicted settlements I've passed through," Ash said before pausing to eat the final chunk of fish that he had been saving, relishing the natural juices and near-perfect seasoning. "I'd appreciate you keeping a room at this inn for me as long as it takes to end this."

"I'll beseech the inn keep, he too has a child, I believe you'll find him sympathetic. Anything I can do to help you, I will. Please just help me keep my girl safe," the woman begged, "Misty means everything to me."

Ash gave her a solemn nod and laid his chopsticks down on the empty plate.

"I'm Kasumi by the way," the woman said with a tiny smile of relief, "And what is the name given to our town's new guardian?" she asked, poking a minute amount of fun at the man with the surfacing of some long-absent optimism.

"Ash."

"Well Ash, what's your next move?" Kasumi asked with slightly piqued curiosity.

"I'm arriving at the conclusion that there is nothing for me to learn in town, so instead I'll survey the surrounding land and question travellers in case they've seen anything strange in the wilderness," he told Kasumi while standing and putting his cloak back on.

"What if there's nothing to be gained from them either?" Kasumi queried regressing back to worry as she thought Ash's plan through.

"Let's hope there is," Ash retorted before giving a small formal bow. He leant down to pick up the crossbow that leant against the table. Kasumi watched him leave, the weapon instilled faith in the man's boasts and abilities, yet it also heightened her worry, she deemed it excessive and unwieldly, what manner of thing was it designed to kill?

A bitter chill greeted Ash's unshielded face and hands as he stepped outside; the last few weeks were the first of this winter and they had brought some of the harshest conditions in years. He would have to buy a new pair of gloves soon, but Ash decided that his pockets and cloak would suffice for today. Ash's investigation of the surrounding area would have to be swift for fear of a freak snowstorm. The cold was a formidable killer in its own right and certain creatures flourished by hunting in poor visibility.

Ash strode into the forest at a quick pace, the crisp snow now shone under golden rays of afternoon sun, picturesque but hardly warm. Another half-inch had fallen since the morning and the veil of fog had almost entirely lifted, making for a picturesque view. Although scenic, the land in this trail's direction was unremarkable; it was flat, uninterrupted forest without even so much as a stream. With it being winter, Ash hadn't expected to encounter very many travellers; it took over an hour before he stumbled across the campfire of two journeying scholars. Ash shared their fire for a short while, running through a list of questions that might help him. The scholars were out seeking carnivorous plant-like creatures to determine whether they died out in winter or were capable of uprooting and moving south, but they had seen nothing of note. Though they were of no real use at all, at least interesting conversation was exchanged.

Wandering further north, Ash eventually stopped for a while atop a tall cliff overlooking most of the Cerulean Bay expanse. From there, he could appreciate just how far the bay penetrated inland. The gravity of his task had set in during his exploration, he had almost nothing to go on and the creature would likely strike again before long. The vast majority of what Ash eventually faced turned out to be little more than animals responsible for savage maulings. They usually had a nest close to where the attacks were occurring, which Ash would seek out. But every once in a while, Ash hunted truly intelligent nightmares and more often than he would like, found himself hunted in return.

In the southeastern corner of the Kanto, a younger and much more naïve Ash had investigated stories of men being viciously murdered in the dead of night; survivors of the attacks were rare but they each swore that they had been set upon in the dead of night by perfect duplicates of themselves. This was the first time that Ash had sought to engage the darker side of nature alone and part of him didn't want to find something responsible for the slayings. It took over a fortnight of near-constant searching before Ash was staring into the eyes of the phantom killer, staring into his own eyes. Ash hadn't even been successfully located the fiend himself, alone searching grassy plains Ash became aware that he was being pursued. The sinister stalker that he laid eyes on did not hesitate to attack once discovered. The reflection possessed Ash's athleticism and combat prowess, making for a formidable opponent in a brutal fight but it lacked his weaponry and he was narrowly able to triumph. After the seemingly fatal blow was struck, the strange being convulsed and fell apart into a viscous sludge of a dull pink, which struggled and flopped around. A fascinated Ash studied the thick, bubbling slime for a short while until he beheld two dark, minuscule eyes staring back at him from the ooze. At which point, he promptly destroyed it with neutralising powders that petrified it forever.

It was barely two months later when Ash investigated a grotesque creature, which terrorized a small town in the south by capturing those that ventured too far into its wilderness domain within invisible walls. Described as a terrifying abomination by survivors and being proven to have killed nearly a dozen, the thing was worse than a typical predator. It was said to have carried more sadistic desires than simple feeding instincts; it supposedly seemed to enjoy toying with and tormenting its prey, which ultimately lead to the escape of would-be victims. The freak wasn't particularly difficult to hunt, Ash found it very near the reported area where the previous attacks took place. Human remains were still strewn around, trapped within translucent barriers that required forceful blows from a rock to shatter. The creature vaguely resembled a man but was misshapen and hunched over. It bore a deathly pale complexion and stood at barely four feet tall. Even from afar Ash could make out its bloated face, stained fangs and the twin wisps of dark, matted hair atop its head. Ash managed to lure the thing out and grievously injure it, but the wounded monster bounded away into the trees. It took a further day of tracking before the monstrosity attempted to ambush Ash and gave him the chance to finally vanquish it once and for all.

Perhaps the most dangerous situation Ash had ever found himself in was in the midst of the wailing woman of the Seafoam Islands. Sailors had long told tales of a beautiful woman's crying leading men to their dooms in the waters that ran between the Seafoam Islands near Cinnabar. He had lied to a small boat crew with promises of treasures well worth the danger in order to foolishly seek out the woman's song. The little boat set sail toward the icy southern waters surrounding the Seafoam Islands. An eerie mist illuminated by moonlight quickly fell upon them moments before they first heard the woman's awful song. From that moment they were hers, totally spellbound; the rowers were powerless but to row towards her.

Upon reaching the frozen land she inhabited, the men marched slowly in a grim procession past the mist, towards the woman with Ash at the rear. He tried desperately to free himself from her total domination as they wandered toward scattered ice sculptures, but it was to no avail, his body was no longer his own. From afar the sculptures looked beautiful, distinct silhouettes of men standing tall against the starry sky. But as the march passed among the statues, the men saw the sculptures for what they were. Clusters of dead men stood frozen upright with their chests ripped wide-open, their expressions were perfect displays of fear and agony. Ash had begun to make his peace, believing that his death was imminent and surely unavoidable as the first crewmember approached a dark figure. Far past the macabre statues, waiting for them.

The wailing woman barely resembled a woman at all; she stood broadly, seven feet fall and with roughly human proportions, but there was no humanity there. Her features were all wrong; her expressionless face bore no nose, only two disgusting slits where one might once have sat. Her long hair was of a ghostly white and it danced an eerie waltz in the bitter wind. Pitch black frostbitten skin sat loosely around her unsightly, bloated figure beneath the tattered relic of a dark red gown.

Ash watched as the first sailor slowly strode reluctantly towards the awaiting demon amid a chilling soundtrack of howling wind and the erratic beating of his frenzied heart as it thudded in his ears. Her eyes were glowing a fierce blue as she glided the short remaining distance to the seaman, her ruined garment only just flowing over the ground below. The blue fire in her eyes dimmed as she leaned over the helpless man and seized him in a vile kiss. Her jaw opened unnaturally wide and engulfed the man's entire lower face. Ash and the other horrified sailors were frozen in place watching their own doom unfold before them.

The sinister being reared her terrible black hand back and shot it forward deep into her victim's chest. The two paused in this horrible embrace for a brief instance, fixed in the ethereal moonlight before she tore her hand from him in a spray of crimson. The woman didn't let him fall, no sooner than her horribly stretched mouth released the sailor's face it unleashed an arctic wind upon him. He was another icy statue in her gruesome gallery before his warm heart had fallen to the ground. Before Ash had a chance to digest the gruesome scene that had unfolded before him, the woman's eyes lit up with an intense energy once more. She glided along the ice toward the next sailor standing among the petrified dead that he was soon to join. As her jaw elongated once more and the grim process repeated itself Ash forced his eyes tightly shut and tried to distance himself from his impending doom. At least ten seconds must have passed before Ash had realised that he had actually been able to close his eyes. He had regained a small amount of control over his body while the woman's attention was focused solely on her current victim.

Before Ash could test his theory, the next sailor had been petrified and another heart lay steaming gently on the ice and snow that drank deeply from it, becoming stained in a matching dark red. The demon was soon upon its next victim and Ash mustered all his strength to reach something from his belt that might save his life. His arms were nearly immovable, weighing many times what they should but he refused to give up. Ash's hand was painfully close to his salvation before he became powerless once more. The woman floated over the ice to the final sailor that stood between him and her, eyes ablaze. Ash knew he had made a terrible, fatal mistake by coming here.

As the wretch craned over the last of the terrified seamen for her kiss of death, Ash put everything he had into trying to grasp the small vial at his waist. Ash had never faced physical exertion on such an unforgiving scale; his muscles were burning just to move the final inch. His blood surged through his veins like streams of hot sulphur and his nerves screamed as his fingers finally brushed against the vial. There was a sickening sound of snapping ribs when the foul woman tore out yet another heart as Ash's fingers finally began to curl around the vial. He saw the heart weakly beat one last time before it fell as he lost what little control he had wrestled back. He was completely paralysed once more as the monster glided toward him. His hand was at his waist wrapped around the vial, which was barely freed from his belt. The seconds felt like hours as she approached. Fine details in her horribly cracked black skin became clear as she drew near, her eyes burned like two blue stars and Ash was powerless to look away.

The demon was before him now, dominating his vision as she sank from the air back to the ice. The blue fire in her eyes began to extinguish and Ash recognised this as his last chance. He had originally hoped to muster the strength to throw the vial from afar when he first conceived the idea; despite quickly realising that act would be impossible he had persisted in his efforts to at least reach it. As Ash stared into the growing void that was the wailing woman's mouth, he desperately tried to release his grip on the vial. Effort was agony, Ash felt as though his fingers were breaking under the strain.

The woman's horrible maw was upon his face as the vial finally began falling to the ice below. Ash couldn't breathe, a strange feeling washed over him and he felt himself slipping away. If the wretch's approach had felt like hours, then Ash had spent days bathed in the warmth of his impending doom. There was no use in fighting the battles he fought; he was infinitely insignificant and after years of subjecting himself to endless torment for others he had earned peace at last. As Ash started to let go and allowed himself to embrace death's radiance, he felt it. A tingling sensation, initially so light and almost pleasant but it had begun to intensify. Soon there was a storm brewing in his nerves, what began as a strange sensation grew more and more into sheer anguish.

He was ripped at last from his trance-like state and sent screaming back to reality. His vial had shattered on the ice and released a flash flood of fire, which washed up and over his boots and the monster's tattered garment. Ash saw the flames licking at his legs in slow motion as his senses snapped back into focus, the fire climbed quickly up the monster's gown like an inverted waterfall, but she didn't relinquish her victim. Her unsightly form was soon completely engulfed as she raised her arm and reared back her hand to claim another life before the pain of the inferno overwhelmed her.

All at once, the agony broke her. Ash was violently thrown backwards, landing excruciatingly on his back-slung crossbow as the woman erupted with a shriek that made Ash writhe on the ice. He knew only pain. The horrible wailing noise felt as though it was boring a deep fissure into his head, his vision was scorched from staring into the demon's eyes and his lower legs had been burned from the fire that had risen above his boots. Ash's involuntary writhing on the frozen tundra was helping to soothe the burns he had sustained but even as the wailing began to subside, he speculated that he was far from safe.

His fears were confirmed when instead of collapsing, the hideous woman turned to face him. She was still cloaked in a shroud of dying fire, her dress all but destroyed. A terrible smell reminiscent of disease assaulted Ash's nostrils preceding the creature's advance, the harbinger of a grisly end. She no longer glided ominously over the expanse towards him, instead she strode on badly burned legs. The pains that stabbed at Ash's every sense were barely subsiding, but he was running out of time. He desperately fumbled onto his side and reached back to retrieve his weapon.

As the wretched demon closed the distance between them, wearing a visage of pure fury, Ash clawed at his weapon to save himself. He clasped the powerful crossbow firmly and slid it round to his front. Recognising the injured young man's efforts were a threat, the woman broke into a bound. Ash didn't let her pounce. Her form shook with the impact of the bolt and she fell forward carried by her frenzied inertia landing with a heavy impact. A welcome silence filled the air; Ash had hit her in the centre of the chest. He knew she was vanquished but didn't grant himself the rest he yearned for. Fearing that the cold would take him, instead he clambered to his feet and made for the boat after taking a second to observe her corpse, still smouldering as it released black blood on to the ice.

Standing atop the cliff overlooking the Cerulean Bay, the hiss of the wind and the sensation of snow landing in his dark hair forced Ash to cease reliving dark memories. The cold and snow were hallmarks of many of Ash's darkest chapters and when the winds of winter washed over him Ash couldn't help but be reminded of the times he had been lost in the cold, terrified. When Ash had clung to life fiercely rowing back from the Seafoam Islands, he shook the entire way from the chill and the sheer shock of the ordeal as it set in.

The wailing woman was one of the larger rivers feeding into the ocean of experiences that constituted him but it could never be the largest. Winter was once again prepared to greet Ash now, as it had at sea, and as it had when he was a child, and everything changed forever.

The celebration of life that became an unprecedented spectacle of death; the disastrous event that bound him to the path he was to walk ever since was hauntingly accompanied by the first snow of that year. Only a boy, the young Ash had fled aimlessly into the snowfall, alone and lost in every sense.

Now the snow was only a distraction to him, he had purpose, he had direction. Ash had known that the caress of the cold was the icy stare of death, he recalled cursing the snow, once as a lost orphan, once as a man lost at sea. Now he welcomed death's frigid company for as long as it was content to merely watch him from a distance.

It was time for Ash to make his way back to the city, the light snow could rapidly escalate into a blizzard and it would be getting dark soon; his investigative exploration was done for the day. Ash took a last look at the view before heading directly for civilisation, orange and blue clashed for dominance in the sky as the sun fell but they would both be replaced with black soon. The monster hunter regretted that he was not able to learn more about the creature he sought. If he wasn't able to find a solid lead in the next few days his only option may be to forgo sleep during as many nights as possible to hopefully catch the monster in the midst of an abduction. Ash was proven right to retreat as he neared the city, the snowfall grew steadily heavier and the wind intensified; it pushed against him as he strove for the warmth of the inn where he could gather his thoughts for tomorrow and bestill the knowledge that death was all-seeing and ever plotting.