Toxic
Two
Catastrophe at the 'Other World'
The crime scene was a literal mess.
Yamcha stood with his handkerchief placed tightly over his nostrils, managing somehow to fight the urge to empty his stomach at the scene before him. the same cannot be said for his partner, however; Krillin took one look at it and bolted out of the door.
he had never seen anything like this before, not during his entire career in the force, not even when he was in a gang during his younger years, and he had seen a lot.
Disemboweled and dismembered bodies were scattered all over the place, blood painted the walls, the furniture, the ground. Some bodies lay whole, stabbed, slashed, some losing heads or limbs, some both. you could easily step on a hand or a leg as you walk. No one was spared.
It was a scene straight out of a horror film.
It's a massacre, that's the only way to describe it.
At the sound of a camera shutter, he turns at the forensic photographer taking pictures of the crime scene and holding himself way better than he or Krillin ever could. He takes notice of him and remarks, "This gonna be a tough job for the medical examiners, huh?"
"I'll say."
Not only is it going to be tough, but it's going to take a lot of time to figure out which body part belonged to whom. some of these corpses aren't even identifiable.
Yamcha hears footsteps behind him, he turns towards his newly returned partner. Krillin came prepared this time with a mask on his face and a tissue over the mask. "You okay now, buddy?" he pats the shorter man on the shoulder.
"Barely... What the hell do you think happened here?" Krillin asks, looking around the horrific scene.
"I don't know, honestly. I can't seem to find any trace of bullets and I don't think an explosion caused this either."
"You sure, man? Cause I don't think anything other than a bomb could've caused this."
"look around, aside from the dead bodies, you see anything else broken, charred, burned?" the interior of the building was intact, there was little broken glass, and there was absolutely nothing that might indicate a shockwave. "Bombs don't cause streaks of blood like that, Krillin." Yamcha Points towards a wall where you can see horizontal streaks of dark red. "Also none of the neighboring shop owners we talked to earlier mentioned hearing an explosion."
"Wait... You think people did this, like actual human beings?"
"What? You believe in monsters, Krillin?" he raises a brow at his friend, teasing.
"Have you seen anything like this before? some of these bodies look like they've been ripped apart. literally."
"No... I mean I can guess they used swords or something of the sort, though not everything is cut clean." his eyes fall on a severed arm where half the bone is exposed. fuck! it really does look like it's been ripped apart.
"Oh, man! you don't think it's one of those cults you hear about lately, do you? Or maybe gang work?" You can see terror flash across his friend's eyes as he asks, and he really can't blame him, because even though the thought is utterly unbelievable, he too, can't think of anything human that could've caused this.
"I've been in a gang before, Krillin, they don't operate crime like this. They only kill who they need to kill." Yamcha steps forward, scanning the club's interior, on the far side just behind the bar, he can see the outline of a black door with the inscription 'staff only'. "I'm gonna go look for the security room. CCTV should give us some answers for now."
He continues towards the door, taking care to not step on anything human. When he doesn't hear Krillin behind him, he turns to find him barely crossing a distance, gagging with each step he takes. Yamcha sighs and calls, "Hey, Krillin, Buddy, why don't you go look for the guest list at the entrance? Clubs like these usually have one, for VIPs at least."
His partner looks up from the ground. "What? You sure you don't want me to come with you?"
"Are you sure you want to step further into this pool of minced human meat?"
Krillin didn't look amused by his attempt at a joke as he gagged yet again. "Really Yamcha? you had to word it like that, huh?" he pauses to swallow something, "But good point."
Yamcha nods in agreement as his friend steps back into the semi-blood-free area of this place, taking one last look at him. "You be careful, man, whoever did this might still be around."
He highly doubts it, nobody does something like this and waits for the police to come catch him, still, he replies with a thumbs up. Krillin leaves and he continues his trek toward the bar.
It was a swinging door, Yamcha took notice of the bloodied handprint on the 'staff only' sign before he opened it carefully. There's a dead body just by the door. male, late 20-early 30s, a staff member, from his white uniform and apron, probably the owner of the handprint left on the door. Yamcha grimaces at the slash splitting his back open and exposing his vertebrae. He leaps over him and into another swinging door. it looked like the kitchen.
There isn't much blood in here, but there was a distinct smell of burned food and gas, he guesses that at the sound of the commotion the staff left this place to see what was going on and weren't able to escape.
The emergency exit lay opposite where he stood in the corridor just outside the kitchen, another dead staff member just near it. when he goes to investigate, he finds the door locked from the inside. he unlocks it and steps outside, into the alleyway behind the club, there is no sign of anyone managing to escape.
he doesn't linger in the alleyway for long and returns to the club. on the far side, parallel to where he was, stood another black door, the sign on that door reads, 'Security'. A triumphant smile plays on his lips as he paces towards that door but it drops as he walks in.
The security room was empty, all the screens showed nothing but dotty horizontal lines. Yamcha sat down and pondered why all the monitors had static screens. He takes the mouse and attempts to figure out what is wrong but to no avail. Whoever was responsible for this massacre was smart enough to destroy the cameras. He directs the mouse again to rewind to the point before they were destroyed, they had to be broken just before they committed their heinous act because there's no way no one noticed the camera's not working.
He re-winded several hours but he still got nothing, so he dragged the mouse and activated the frames option. There! At 12:35 am, he sees a clear image of the club, he moves to the frame 5 minutes before and lets the video play.
For the entirety of the five minutes, nothing out of the ordinary happens, the club was packed, and people danced and enjoyed themselves, all the way up to the last second, just before the camera broke. a flash of pink light.
"What the fuck?"
Alarmed, he rewinds. Something in the middle of the crowd flashes bright and then everything goes dark.
Was that an explosion? But that doesn't make any sense.
Yamcha takes his phone out, and rewinds again, recording the minute before the cameras break but as soon as he does that the door clicks shut. instantly his hand was on the gun at his side as he turned. his eyes taking a quick scan of his surroundings before they settle on the now shut door of this room. he pulls his weapon out and quietly heads towards the wall just beside the door and with his free hand he rotates the handle and pushes the door back.
Yamcha hoped that it would be one of the police officers roaming the place coming to check in on him, but his common sense warred him that they would've at least made themselves known and they sure as hell wouldn't be this silent. as quickly as his body allows, he peeks at the corridor.
his heart jumps into his throat, a man dressed in black jeans and a hoodie matched with a black face mask stood by the exit door. Krillin's warning that some of the criminals might still be around despite the odds of that rings in his head.
Yamcha releases a breath he was holding, he had faith in his abilities as a detective, he really did, but the crime scene he was trying to investigate didn't leave any room for bravery.
he removes the safety lock on his gun, and for the second time, he peeks through, this time taking longer. the mysterious stranger flinches not removing his hand from the handle on the Exit door. Yamcha shows his weapon in warning and as soon as he does that he hears the screech of the door as it opens.
"Don't move!" he tries to warn but the suspect is already bolting through.
Yamcha doesn't waste a minute longer as he chases after him, jumping over the corpses on the ground and into the alleyway behind the club but by the time he makes a little distance, the guy with the black hoodie is getting into a beige getaway car. he cursed at the fact that he didn't have any time to get a good look at it or the license plate as it sped up.
Yamcha sighs as he walks back but then he notices a small medallion on the ground. he bends to pick it up, it was a keychain with a circular metal medallion of the kanji 魔.
"Demon..."
This case was getting weirder by the second.
.
.
.
She ran.
She couldn't see anything in front of her, or behind her, or at her sides but she ran still, faster than she ever did before, faster than her human legs could handle.
It was a cold dark, void, and she didn't even know why she was running, or where she was going, but she could feel them, eyes as dark as night, watching her.
clawed hands whipping through the air trying to catch her.
to suffocate her.
Alas, she sees something in the distance. A large tree, with thick black roots and branches, and white, glowing leaves. It was beautiful. She ran faster, and the closer she was to that tree, the fiercer the sound of the claws whipped through the air, it almost sounded like howling. She didn't look back, she wanted to reach safety under that glowing tree with an urge she couldn't even begin to explain.
When she finally jumped under the light of the tree, silence prevailed. She stared in awe and circled the gigantic trunk until she found someone lying there.
She drew closer, the figure was a woman with black flowing hair, undulating on the ground beside her, she was covered by a sheer white dress that left her feet exposed, she looked like a mannequin made of porcelain, so mesmerizing. One of her hands lay carelessly beside her, the other carried a naked infant. The child's eyes were closed, it was pale and lifeless, and for some reason, she shed tears for the child.
The woman's face however had no features, she thought that if she drew closer she could see her face and she did, but as soon as she extended her hand to touch the porcelain face, the hand on the ground gripped hers. She tried to yank her hand but it was like steel.
The tree rattled. its white leaves dropped in a whirl around them. Chichi panicked when she watched the tree branches stretch, its endings morphing into sharp talons, when she looked back at the statue, the woman had features and her black, familiar eyes stared directly into hers. "Run," she spoke but did not loosen her grip.
"What?"
"Run," she repeated. She tried to yank her hand again but to no avail. The tree was in a frenzy now, whipping its large branches on the ground causing cracks.
"Let me go!" Chichi screamed, frightened.
"let me go!" she kept yanking her hand.
"let me go!"
"Chichi, wake the hell up!"
She jerked her eyes open.
"Gosh, are you okay?"
She looked into her roommate's vibrant blue eyes, heart hammering inside her chest, and could barely contain her terribly shaken body.
It wasn't real.
It wasn't real.
she looks around. She's in her room now, it was just-
"Chichi?"
"Yes. I'm fine, I was having…" She took a moment, recalling. " a really bad nightmare."
Her roommate sighed, letting go of her shoulders, and only when she did that did she realize she was being held. "You scared me, you know? You were moaning so loud, almost screaming. When I walked in on you, you were tossing and turning violently. What the fuck were you dreaming about?"
She looks into her roommate's eyes again as if their blue grounding her in reality. "A tree."
"A tree?"
"And a mannequin."
"Sounds terrifying," she replies with a titter which derives a faint smile from her too. "Do you always dream about trees and mannequins?"
Chichi shook her head no. She had nightmares before but they never felt this real. Something about this dream chilled her to the bones, so much so that she still felt the tight grip on her hand. And her eyes fall on her wrist as if to inspect.
her friend sighs, getting up off her bed. "I made coffee, so I'll wait for you in the living room... Chichi… We need to talk about last night."
She looks up at her, confused when suddenly a sharp pounding pain shoots up in her head. "OK." She manages to get out and the other leaves the room.
She brings her hand to massage the sides of her temple and fight off the dizziness that attacked her when she tried to get off the bed, nonetheless, she stands and heads towards the bathroom.
Chichi turned on the faucet, watching as clear water ran down the sink as she propped herself on the edge of it when another bout of dizziness assaulted her. She takes a deep breath and gathers water in her hand to rinse her face. She does this several times, enjoying the cooling effect on her skin. When she's done, she lifts her head and her eyes fall on the mirror. It takes her a second to focus on her reflection, the face in that mirror wasn't hers, it was featureless, pale, and just like the mannequin in her dream.
She jumps with a squeak, her heart racing but when she looks at the mirror again, she only sees her familiar face.
She breathes out. Shit, she's way too hung up on that nightmare.
She dries her face with a towel and gets out to meet Bulma in the sitting area. The latter was already waiting for her with a cup of coffee put down on the coffee table. Chichi sits down next to her, holding her cup in hand and taking a sip. "Thank you. That's a really good coffee."
"You're welcome." Bulma waits for her to take a few more sips before she starts with whatever she wants to say. She was thankful for that as the coffee started to take effect. "So what do you remember from last night?"
A pair of obsidian eyes pop up in her head.
But as she started to recall things, the last thing she remembers was sitting at the bar, waiting for Bulma when two guys offered to buy her a drink, what happened after that was obscured. "I was waiting for you," she said. "Then two guys bought me a soda and I don't remember much after that."
"Chichi," Bulma starts, placing a hand on her shoulder, "don't freak out, okay? but I think that soda was spiked."
she draws her eyebrows together. "Spiked?"
"You know, LSD? the rape drug?"
"What?!" she jumps, horrified.
"I got to you before anything happened though, so there's nothing to worry about."
"What do you mean 'there's nothing to worry about'? I was drugged!"
"Happens more often than you think. Just be glad you weren't alone."
She placed her aching head in her hands. "Ugh, this is the worst! I knew I shouldn't have gone to a club!" It was her first ever, and she was reluctant to go, especially with someone she knew only recently. Bulma was the daughter of her father's acquaintance, Dr. Brief but she didn't have much of a relationship with her, but it was through that connection she became her roommate in this apartment.
"Well, you shouldn't have taken drinks from strangers either…" she said this before she casually took a sip from her coffee.
Chichi glared at her. "How was supposed to know, huh?! I've never been to a club before."
"It's common knowledge, did no one ever mention that to you?"
"No! I was homeschooled my whole life, I didn't have anyone to tell me what to expect at clubs."
Her smug attitude fades upon hearing that information. "Gosh, Chichi, I knew you were shy but damn! I didn't know you lived such a sheltered life. If I'd known I wouldn't have asked you to come with me… I'm sorry."
She sighs. "I'm never going to clubs again."
"Good idea honestly… I didn't have any fun either."
She picked up her coffee again and just before she took a sip this time, the front door jerked open and their other roommate walked in, her face grim. Launch didn't come with them to the club the night prior, she wanted to spend it with her boyfriend instead.
She stopped once she noticed them, her face softening and she sighed in relief. "Oh, thank god! You two are okay!"
Bulma raises a brow. "Well, good morning to you too."
Launch regains her usual fierce expression. "What morning! It's already noon."
Bulma shrugs. "still morning to me."
Chichi, still hung up on her first sentence, asks, "What's wrong, Launch? you look pale."
"The Fuck? Haven't you guys been watching the damn news?"
"What news?"
"The club, the 'Other World' is all over TV!" she grabs the remote and turns on the TV. A news reporter was pointing towards the club behind her, yellow duct tape was put on the entrance and police surrounded the place. "You two could've been killed..."
Bulma gasped as Chichi sat in silence listening to the reporter explain the harrowing details, but the only thing on her mind was those dark eyes.
.
.
.
The air around him is as thick as water and just as heavy, he's drowning in the presence of the man sitting on the head of the table gazing out the window on the 55Th floor. The calmness, the serenity of his visage is unnerving, and Park turns to scan the faces of his companions; dread and apprehension evident on their stone-cold features, as is on his own.
A sigh escapes from beside him, Mai looking ahead with dreamy contentment, exempt from this strapping fear their newly awakened lord and master is exuding. There's no one in this room happier about his revival than she was.
Disgusting wretch, always their master's obedient little pet.
If only she took a moment from her swooning stupor to understand the gravity of his revival. Park sure did. He can feel it bouncing off his skin, drying his throat, and making the hair on his arms and neck stand stiff; the end of their tranquil days is upon them. He can see it on his comrades' faces.
He can see it on his face.
A thousand years had not made him forget what their Master truly is. He was power incarnate, a limitless, ruthless beast, he cared for no one and bowed to no one, he followed his reasons and his reasons alone, he could destroy the world if he wanted to and no one would be there to stop him. They're toys in his palms, forever bound to follow his capricious rule…
They were better off without him.
Black stands, and strides towards the windows, his hands interlaced behind his back, scrunching the black haori he left open. "I wonder, are the insects below all human?"
Silence prevails as none of them dares to open his maw, or lift their eyes to meet his, and their brutal master tilts his head in anticipation. Courage, he was not aware he had (or perhaps pride) compels him to answer. "Yes, my lord."
"I see… They seem to have grown in such vast numbers, that I wonder what you all have been doing In the past millennium?"
Park swallows, he continues in a shaky voice. "My lord, times have changed—"
"You've allowed them to." he turns, his expression hidden In the shadows of the fierce sunrays piercing through the glass, instilling his grandeur strength into their eyes for only he is immune to their natural enemy.
"The humans," someone says, and the suffocating weight on his chest lifts and he can finally draw a breath. "they were much more resilient than what we've anticipated."
He tilted his head, "Hmm, have they evolved to be somehow stronger than you?"
He lowers his head. "… No, my lord."
"Then what was your excuse?"
No one answered, no one could, they were all trembling in fear.
There was a knock followed by the opening of the door and in came his human secretary with a tray carrying a cup of tea.
Park is horrified.
"Excuse my intrusion," She enters and he can see Black's gaze silently following her as she places the cup in front of his chair. "This is the tea you requested, sir." She declares cheerfully.
He fidgets in his seat, why is she here with tea? who told her to bring it? This fool is going to-
Beside him Mai snickers and instantly he knows it was her doing, he turns to glare at her but she returns with a smirk.
"Do you need anything else?" the human asks.
Their lord smiles.
Park panics, he stands and orders, "You may leave-"
"No." The change in tone was faint, but the terror it inspired in him as their lord's dark gaze fell on his was far greater than anything he had experienced before and he was left frozen and speechless. "There's indeed something I need of you. Come." He extends his hand towards her and despite her obvious bewilderment, she complies placing her hand in his.
"What are you called, human?" Park can see Black examining her curly dark blue hair, he takes a whiff of her scent. And all he could do was watch in despair.
"My name is Lunch, sir."
He laughs, "What a befitting name."
Confusion mars her expression but before she has time to inquire what he means, he places his hand on the back of her head, bringing her in, and sinks his teeth into her jugular. Lunch screamed but no one came to her aid, she struggled, tried to flee his death grip, and even tried to scratch him. he watched helplessly for the next excruciating minutes as she cried out his name for help, until her cries died down and her arms fell limb by her sides. he lets her go and her body drops heavily to the floor.
"plain," he says and brings a finger to gather a drop of blood that escaped the side of his lips.
Rage consumes Park, Black watches him amused. "They don't quite taste as good when they are not pure… and especially when they are tainted by vampires."
He balls his fists, and clenches his jaw so tightly he draws blood. "there was no need for her death."
"I disagree, I was quite hungry."
"We're not in the middle ages anymore, you cannot carelessly kill people."
The amusement in Black's eyes vanishes, a deep, vicious scorn replaces it. Park was sensible enough to realize the consequence of his bravado against their master, but they have lived for the past 1000 years in his absence as masters of their own, if they don't put their foot down now, they'll forever be his slaves. "The humans are much more advanced now. They're not the same as you left them."
For a few excruciating moments, Black was quiet, his frightening eyes fixed on him. Park felt the urge to wet his dry throat but withheld himself. Any sign of fear is not going to help his cause. But the beast before him replies with a faint smile. "I see..." understanding prevails over his feature that compels Park to relax. "I've turned a bunch of cowards."
He felt incensed. "cowards?! We held up our own, built empires, we made something of ourselves that you could never have made while you laid in peaceful sleep for the last millennium, you have no right to call us cowards"
"How presumptuous." Deafening silence prevailed as the realization of what he had just passionately voiced sunk in. Cautiously, his eyes seek their master where he stood basked in the now red hues of the sinking sun, and bathing them in the savagery of his shadow. weakness ate at his limps at the sight of those red-glowing eyes, staring at him. gnashing at his soul.
Ah, he was a fool, he never should have spoken. He should have kept his mouth shut. Why did he feel the need to be brave? How had he dared to challenge their master?
His limbs shook, and he swallowed against the lump in his throat. He was dead and yet why did he feel so afraid of death?
He wants to beg for his life, but his lips refuse to move, instead, he intently focuses on his master's lips as it drag the word "Kneel!"
A force of the like of a hundred arms sunk into his shoulders forcefully bent his knees and brought him to the ground.
Black approaches, the sound of his footsteps is an agony in itself. "You're correct, it seems that I have slept for too long... I must have slept for so long that you all seem to have forgotten just who your master is." He sighs, running his fingers through his hair casually. "You need to be reeducated for your impertinence, and I do plan to take responsibility for such a daunting task."
Sweat profusely from his pours, something he never experienced post his turning. He struggles but manages a meek, "Please!" the invincible weight on his shoulder is unbearable.
"Shhh, Child." His lord commands, his eyes falling on him again, suffocating him as his tongue grows heavy and his jaws clamp shut. He bends placing his hand on his shoulder, staring into his terror-filled eyes. "I must make an example out of you. I must show you what true fear feels like, otherwise the rest of your companions might think it is OK for them to raise their voice in the presence of their divine lord."
He brought his face closer, his shaken, unblinking gaze met that overawing eyes, and in those eyes he saw, memories of a thousand years, the unchangeable loneliness in those castle walls, his numerous, attempts at ending his existence, and her. Blue hair, radiant smile, a personification of a life he once sought, and it all burns by the image of the gluttonous monster covered in blood.
Suddenly, his heart starts with an excruciating beat, drumming repeatedly within the bones of his chest adding to his antecedent panic. Black smiles at this, as Park's vision turns red, and a single tear of blood slides down his cheek. "Fear jerks life into my kin. How does it feel to have your heart beating again?"
He hated it. He wants to rip it out of his chest. But he feels powerless, his arms lay surrendered at his sides. he can't even scream as he watches his blood leak from every crevice in his body to pool around him with overwhelming pain and feel his impending end. He had seen it, so many times before, that Black invokes a fear so violent in his creation that they return to what they once were. Mere humans…
"You see, I made you. I can unmake you."
Black rises, a satisfied grin graces his lips before he turns to address Park's once comrades, the lot that he once considered the family he never had, all of which avoided looking his way. Park felt betrayed, he felt alone. But most of all he felt insignificant.
"I hope you've all learned a lesson here. That no matter what you thought of yourselves in my absence, in my presence you are nothing but subservient fleas."
"Yes, sire!" they reply in unison.
Black returns to his seat at the head of the table to discuss his new plan for the world as he is completely forgotten. He turns, he doesn't want his cruel master to be the last thing he sees as his petrification reaches up to his neck, instead, he lets his eyes fall on his beloved Lunch, her pale, lifeless face once was vibrantly alive, he remembered her eccentricities and naivety and his lips cracked in a smile, a mixture of relief and surrender washing over him as his conscience flees. He doesn't know if there will be an afterlife for him but if there is, he desperately wants to spend it with her….
A/N: I decided to continue this. Yay!