- Joined
- Jul 6, 2008
- Messages
- 11,370
track: prey
Somewhat reluctantly, you place one hand on the handrail for support and limp down the stairs a step at a time. The building shudders again. The lights begin to behave bizarrely, flickering off and on at random intervals. Your nerves are shaken and strained to their limit, both by the recent string of deaths, and the strange nature of the hospital… but at this point there is no choice but to move on. Though you would like nothing better than to curl up in the corner and wait for everything to blow over, it does not seem like a safe choice.
When you reach the first sublevel, a ghastly sight greets you. You step back and almost slip off the stairs in shock. Tokigawa and Okuyama are leaning against the wall in a sitting position. A gaping, red slit has been drawn across each of their throats. From the amount of the blood coating their necks, they are beyond any hope of rescue. Sakaki, the author, is spread out on the floor. His neck is twisted at an unnatural angle, his blood-shot eyes looking up at the ceiling. He, too, is unmistakably dead. As you clear the final step cautiously, your left leg stings painfully. You grab the railing tightly to avoid falling. Pulling up your pants, you can’t help but think that the bruise has spread even further… it now covers a good part of your shin.
A piercing scream distracts you from your leg. You had almost forgotten.
It’s coming from the level below.
Hastily, as you drag yourself down the stairs, you bring out the pistol that you took from Mori. It is a snub-nosed revolver, of the sort commonly seen in cheap television dramas where they are used by both policemen and yakuza. It feels surprisingly light in your hand – you thought it would have weighed more – and feels comfortable to hold. You remember faintly that you are supposed to thumb the latch on the side. The cylinder swings open, allowing you to peer inside the chambers. There are two rounds remaining out of five.
As you stumble onto the second sublevel, you find the source of the commotion. At the same time, you slip on the blood and tumble to the floor. The gun almost flies from your grip. Crawling to your hands and knees, you stare at Kayano. Her belly has been cut open –greyish-pink guts have squeezed out of the wound, becoming entangled in her lifeless, bloody fingers. Her eyes stare at you blankly… almost accusingly. It looks like she has just expired.
You hear sounds of a scuffle from further down the hallway. You scramble to your feet and begin limping desperately towards the noise.
There they are.
Taketatsu and Maeda.
Maeda’s expensive, elegant black dress is half torn – silently, Taketatsu rips off even more of the fabric even as she tries to kick him off of her. He has lost his blazer somewhere, and his long, white-sleeved shirt is stained with spatters of blood.
“You never let me touch you, you bitch,” he whispers monotonously. “Don’t get all coy on me now.”
“Fuck off!” screams Maeda in a decidedly unladylike manner. Turning her head around wildly in desperation, she spots you hobbling towards them. “Shi… Shinoseki!”
Taketatsu pulls her around and tightens his elbow around her neck, his hands groping her breast roughly. Maeda chokes and kicks vainly at the air as he hauls her back. “Shinoseki Adachi-san. I’ve never been more glad to see someone in my life!” The formerly quiet, calm business man laughs, his spectacles askew. His neatly parted hair is now a messy shock of black. “I’m sure you understand what I’m doing, right? Right?”
“I… I don’t know… what are you doing?” you respond nervously. It’s the truth. You have no idea what he’s doing.
“We’re all going to die. Everyone else is already dead. But I won’t die here. I’ll sacrifice what is needed. You understand, right? There are thirteen of us. Of course you understand.”
You shake your head, taking one step closer.
“Ah. Ah, ah,” Taketatsu shakes his head manicly. “Careful, Shinoseki Adachi-san. Just wait. After I take care of this woman we’ll be free. You promised me that we would.”
When? You refrain from saying anything, though, being as confused as you are.
There is a glint of metal – a large, flat scalpel appears in Taketatsu’s hand. He raises it into the air.
“L-let me go!” screams Maeda, struggling to free herself from his grasp, but Taketatsu remains unbudged as if possessed by some supernatural strength.
“Stop it, Taketatsu-san!” you yell out fearfully. Seeing no other choice, you raise the gun, gripping it with both hands.
“Ha. Ha ha.” His laugh is stilted and cold. “What are you doing, Shinoseki Adachi-san?”
“P-please… let go of Maeda-san,” you plead, your voice breaking in desperation. “It’s… what is going on here? Did you… did you kill everyone else?”
A darkness blooms in his eyes. “No. Of course not. I didn’t do anything. The hospital did it.” Taketatsu giggles, placing the scalpel against Maeda’s bare chest. “Please wait. I’ll be with you shortly.”
Maeda draws her breath in sharply and gulps, straining to keep her body away from the sharp blade in vain.
“I… I’ll shoot, Taketatsu-san!”
Taketatsu stares at you from behind his twisted glasses. “Come on, Shinoseki Adachi-san. You? Shoot? With that? That is a Nambu M60 revolver, if I’m not mistaken. Was it Mori-san’s? I like guns. I know a lot of about them. Look at you. You are shaking. You would not hit me. Not at this range. Not with that gun. You might hit Maeda-san instead. I would mind that a lot, because she is mine. I would like to continue having her. Please put the gun down and be patient. I’ll be done soon.” His mouth splits open in a wide, insane grin that shows far too many teeth for your comfort.
Your breathing is heavy. You can feel the sharp pain in your cheek. The dull ache in your ribs. The deep sting writhing its way up your leg. Your arms are heavy. Your aim is wavering. The iron sights sway from side to side, as your vision blurs from the sweat trickling into your eyes.
Should I shoot him?
Can I hit him?
What if I hit Maeda-san instead?
What if-
The scalpel presses inwards. A trickle of blood appears on Maeda’s fair skin.
“Taketatsu-san!“
…move.
Yet your finger refuses to move, to pull the trigger.
Move.
Your breathing stops, your heart catches in your throat.
Move!
The blade digs in. Tears itself out with a flick of Taketatsu’s hand. And again. And again. Savagely, rabidly, he attacks Maeda with the sharp instrument, grunting gleefully. In the midst of his frenzy he cuts his own arm but he does not appear to notice. With a snort, he drops her to the ground.
Unable to keep your arms up anymore, you lower the gun.
I couldn’t do anything.
I couldn’t move when I needed to.
But I could have shot Maeda-san.
It was too risky.
I should have done something anyway.
I shouldn't.
“Now it’s your turn, Shinoseki Adachi-san,” smiles Taketatsu, blood still dripping off his spectacles. His eyes shine darkly behind the red stains. “We need to talk. But before that, put down the gun. An amateur has no business holding one. It would look better in my hand. I should have it, right? Ha. Ha ha. I know you understand, right? Right?”
You do not respond, lost in your own thoughts. His words and face almost do not register in your mind.
I…
“Shinoseki Adachi-san?” asks Taketatsu again with perfect politeness as he turns towards you.
***
23:47
A. You shoot him. After all, Maeda-san is not in the way anymore.
B. He’s right… you should talk to him. He might know how to escape… right?
C. You run upstairs. This is all too much for you.
Somewhat reluctantly, you place one hand on the handrail for support and limp down the stairs a step at a time. The building shudders again. The lights begin to behave bizarrely, flickering off and on at random intervals. Your nerves are shaken and strained to their limit, both by the recent string of deaths, and the strange nature of the hospital… but at this point there is no choice but to move on. Though you would like nothing better than to curl up in the corner and wait for everything to blow over, it does not seem like a safe choice.
When you reach the first sublevel, a ghastly sight greets you. You step back and almost slip off the stairs in shock. Tokigawa and Okuyama are leaning against the wall in a sitting position. A gaping, red slit has been drawn across each of their throats. From the amount of the blood coating their necks, they are beyond any hope of rescue. Sakaki, the author, is spread out on the floor. His neck is twisted at an unnatural angle, his blood-shot eyes looking up at the ceiling. He, too, is unmistakably dead. As you clear the final step cautiously, your left leg stings painfully. You grab the railing tightly to avoid falling. Pulling up your pants, you can’t help but think that the bruise has spread even further… it now covers a good part of your shin.
A piercing scream distracts you from your leg. You had almost forgotten.
It’s coming from the level below.
Hastily, as you drag yourself down the stairs, you bring out the pistol that you took from Mori. It is a snub-nosed revolver, of the sort commonly seen in cheap television dramas where they are used by both policemen and yakuza. It feels surprisingly light in your hand – you thought it would have weighed more – and feels comfortable to hold. You remember faintly that you are supposed to thumb the latch on the side. The cylinder swings open, allowing you to peer inside the chambers. There are two rounds remaining out of five.
As you stumble onto the second sublevel, you find the source of the commotion. At the same time, you slip on the blood and tumble to the floor. The gun almost flies from your grip. Crawling to your hands and knees, you stare at Kayano. Her belly has been cut open –greyish-pink guts have squeezed out of the wound, becoming entangled in her lifeless, bloody fingers. Her eyes stare at you blankly… almost accusingly. It looks like she has just expired.
You hear sounds of a scuffle from further down the hallway. You scramble to your feet and begin limping desperately towards the noise.
There they are.
Taketatsu and Maeda.
Maeda’s expensive, elegant black dress is half torn – silently, Taketatsu rips off even more of the fabric even as she tries to kick him off of her. He has lost his blazer somewhere, and his long, white-sleeved shirt is stained with spatters of blood.
“You never let me touch you, you bitch,” he whispers monotonously. “Don’t get all coy on me now.”
“Fuck off!” screams Maeda in a decidedly unladylike manner. Turning her head around wildly in desperation, she spots you hobbling towards them. “Shi… Shinoseki!”
Taketatsu pulls her around and tightens his elbow around her neck, his hands groping her breast roughly. Maeda chokes and kicks vainly at the air as he hauls her back. “Shinoseki Adachi-san. I’ve never been more glad to see someone in my life!” The formerly quiet, calm business man laughs, his spectacles askew. His neatly parted hair is now a messy shock of black. “I’m sure you understand what I’m doing, right? Right?”
“I… I don’t know… what are you doing?” you respond nervously. It’s the truth. You have no idea what he’s doing.
“We’re all going to die. Everyone else is already dead. But I won’t die here. I’ll sacrifice what is needed. You understand, right? There are thirteen of us. Of course you understand.”
You shake your head, taking one step closer.
“Ah. Ah, ah,” Taketatsu shakes his head manicly. “Careful, Shinoseki Adachi-san. Just wait. After I take care of this woman we’ll be free. You promised me that we would.”
When? You refrain from saying anything, though, being as confused as you are.
There is a glint of metal – a large, flat scalpel appears in Taketatsu’s hand. He raises it into the air.
“L-let me go!” screams Maeda, struggling to free herself from his grasp, but Taketatsu remains unbudged as if possessed by some supernatural strength.
“Stop it, Taketatsu-san!” you yell out fearfully. Seeing no other choice, you raise the gun, gripping it with both hands.
“Ha. Ha ha.” His laugh is stilted and cold. “What are you doing, Shinoseki Adachi-san?”
“P-please… let go of Maeda-san,” you plead, your voice breaking in desperation. “It’s… what is going on here? Did you… did you kill everyone else?”
A darkness blooms in his eyes. “No. Of course not. I didn’t do anything. The hospital did it.” Taketatsu giggles, placing the scalpel against Maeda’s bare chest. “Please wait. I’ll be with you shortly.”
Maeda draws her breath in sharply and gulps, straining to keep her body away from the sharp blade in vain.
“I… I’ll shoot, Taketatsu-san!”
Taketatsu stares at you from behind his twisted glasses. “Come on, Shinoseki Adachi-san. You? Shoot? With that? That is a Nambu M60 revolver, if I’m not mistaken. Was it Mori-san’s? I like guns. I know a lot of about them. Look at you. You are shaking. You would not hit me. Not at this range. Not with that gun. You might hit Maeda-san instead. I would mind that a lot, because she is mine. I would like to continue having her. Please put the gun down and be patient. I’ll be done soon.” His mouth splits open in a wide, insane grin that shows far too many teeth for your comfort.
Your breathing is heavy. You can feel the sharp pain in your cheek. The dull ache in your ribs. The deep sting writhing its way up your leg. Your arms are heavy. Your aim is wavering. The iron sights sway from side to side, as your vision blurs from the sweat trickling into your eyes.
Should I shoot him?
Can I hit him?
What if I hit Maeda-san instead?
What if-
The scalpel presses inwards. A trickle of blood appears on Maeda’s fair skin.
“Taketatsu-san!“
…move.
Yet your finger refuses to move, to pull the trigger.
Move.
Your breathing stops, your heart catches in your throat.
Move!
The blade digs in. Tears itself out with a flick of Taketatsu’s hand. And again. And again. Savagely, rabidly, he attacks Maeda with the sharp instrument, grunting gleefully. In the midst of his frenzy he cuts his own arm but he does not appear to notice. With a snort, he drops her to the ground.
Unable to keep your arms up anymore, you lower the gun.
I couldn’t do anything.
I couldn’t move when I needed to.
But I could have shot Maeda-san.
It was too risky.
I should have done something anyway.
I shouldn't.
“Now it’s your turn, Shinoseki Adachi-san,” smiles Taketatsu, blood still dripping off his spectacles. His eyes shine darkly behind the red stains. “We need to talk. But before that, put down the gun. An amateur has no business holding one. It would look better in my hand. I should have it, right? Ha. Ha ha. I know you understand, right? Right?”
You do not respond, lost in your own thoughts. His words and face almost do not register in your mind.
I…
“Shinoseki Adachi-san?” asks Taketatsu again with perfect politeness as he turns towards you.
***
23:47
A. You shoot him. After all, Maeda-san is not in the way anymore.
B. He’s right… you should talk to him. He might know how to escape… right?
C. You run upstairs. This is all too much for you.
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