Join Date: Sep 2007
Location: Jersey Sticks.
Posts: 1,062
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Night Parade of One Hundred Demons
This is just a short story I've been working on. It's a new take on my whole demon/spirit world idea, and a spin on the old Japanese folk tale by the same name. It's not a serious piece, just a bit of practice really. Figured I'd post it for those who are interested to read.
I've been revising it a bit, practicing my editing skills. I'm still not entirely done with it; and what I have posted here is just the first half of the story, not the entire thing. Providing I keep up with this story, I'll update it whenever I'm given the chance.
Anyway, enjoy.
Cheery as a graveyard perfectly described Kuromura, a shady little town on Japan’s southwestern coast just a few miles north of Kyushu. It was one of those places most folks overlooked or avoided, like roadside stands, or the Bronx during nighttime. Kuromura’s buildings were unmemorable, all shades of gray, and stood like rows of mismatched tombstones. The trees were naked and gnarled; the grass (what little there was) unkempt; the pavement chipped, littered with trash, and the streets ragged and uneven.
But, despite its unwelcoming appearance, Kuromura was a special place, and only nosey folks--like a certain paranormal investigator--knew why. It was a hotbed for ghosts.
A muddy Bentley crawled to a stop just outside a run-down convenience store. It was a dilapidated little machiya--a Meiji era leftover--with a sagging roof missing several of its terracotta shingles, which were scattered all over the sidewalk. The front door was lopsided and hung off its track; and wreathing the ugly building was a smell reminiscent of shit.
The Bentley’s headlights snapped off, and the driver’s door burst open. A young guy in a duster--about eighteen--clambered out on to the sidewalk.
Gabriel Gray, the nosey paranormal investigator, stared at the building with a puzzled look on his face. He glanced down at a piece of paper pinched between his thumb and forefinger, then back up at the building. This was the place? He checked again to be sure. It was.
“Nate, you’re kiddin’ me,” he growled. His contact had either gotten something wrong when he gave him the message, or he’d decided to fuck with him. Again.
Gabriel reached inside his vehicle and pulled out a bulky metal case, slamming the door shut. Then he sauntered toward the front door.
But when he arrived at the entrance, a rather vexing situation presented itself. Thick, steel bars were barricading him from entering; and there were weird, little slips of rice paper stuck all over the door, covered in senseless scribbles. Kanji, he guessed.
“What the--”
“They’re preparing for Hyakki Yakō, stranger.”
Gabriel whirled around. A woman was standing on the sidewalk and watching him intently, like a deer staring at headlights. Her gaze crept behind his eyeballs. It made him wince.
“Who the hell are you!” he snapped.
The woman stepped into a strip of fuzzy streetlight. Her skin was like porcelain; her nut-brown eyes were genial; and her hair was a sleek, black-blue like raven‘s feathers. It was like looking at a china doll. She wore the red and white hakama of a Shinto priestess.
“My apologies,” she said, bowing. “My name is Kagami, I am a miko at the Kuromura Inari shrine.”
“Oh.” He coughed uneasily and shifted his gaze. He felt bad for having barked at a priestess. To him, it was about as right as chastising an old, friendly nun. “The--my--name is Gabriel Gray, paranormal investigator. Heard the town had some good haunts, so…”
“More than good, Gabriel-san.” The priestess twined her fingers. “Unfortunately, however, you picked a terrible night to go about your business. A very terrible night, indeed.”
“Yeah, didn’t you mention somethin’ like… er, what was it? Hiyaki yuko?”
“Hyakki Yakō,” corrected Kagami. “In English, it means ‘Night Parade of One Hundred Demons.’ But enough about that.” She tugged his sleeve. “Come with me to the temple.”
Gabriel didn’t budge. “Demons?” A light went on in his dark, hollow skull. He slammed his fist into his palm and grinned. His gray eyes sparkled like stars. “That’d make a great cover story!” He patted his case. “Got my camera here, all I need is some directions.”
“You fool!” She squeezed his forearm until her fingernails were digging into his skin. She glared, hard, at him. “You must come with me, now. The parade is about to star--”
A faint swell of drumbeats echoed in the distance, followed by the mad twang of shamisens and the trills of a hundred bamboo flutes. Thunderous footsteps shook the ground.
“Too late!” Kagami pushed Gabriel into a tight, dank alley beside the machiya and ducked behind a clutter of rusty garbage cans, pulling him down beside her. “Stay very still.”
Gabriel wasn’t even sure if he wanted to breath. He heard a cacophony of hoots, cackles, and wails in the distance, which grew louder and louder until it was as deafening as a jet engine. Shadows of all shapes and sizes gyrated and skipped across the facades of the miserable houses; and an eerie glow of polychromatic light flooded the narrow, dirty street.
Turning the corner, hundreds of demons poured into Gabriel’s sight.
They were the most bizarre and creepy things he’d ever seen. It was like Whitby Gothic Weekend all over again! There were man-shaped things with red skin and long, reptilian tongues; women with two mouths; heads floating in the middle of flaming wheels; little boys with one eye; paper lanterns with evil faces; and even sandals that had tiny legs and arms. And that was the only the tip of the iceberg. There were thousands of them.
“I thought you said it was the Night of One Hundred Demons,” Gabriel murmured.
“It’s just a name, it’s not as if we count them, Gabriel-san,” whispered the priestess.
“Okay, forget it, then. More importantly, how the hell are we gonna get out of here, Kagami? It’s not like we can sneak around them. There’s just too fuckin’ many of ‘em!”
“Lower your voice, idiot.” Kagami peeked over the trash cans to see if any of the monsters had heard them. Luckily, they were still oblivious of their presence. “Now,” she continued, “I’m not sure how… we will have to see if we can escape after the crowd wanes.”
Gabriel grunted; but he perceived the situation as an opportunity to get some great material for his magazine article. After all, he’d probably be stuck behind the trash for a while. He went to open his case, but Kagami stopped him before he’d even cracked the lid.
“Are you crazy?”
“But I need these photographs!”
“You will die if you try, Gabriel-san. Photographs can be replaced, lives cannot.”
Kagami was right, as much as he hated to admit it. He pushed aside his case and slumped against the machiya’s slimy wall; and as soon as his head touched the stone, he was out.
When Gabriel woke, the first thing he noticed was how dim the street outside the alleyway was. In the distance, he could hear the trilling, twanging, and beating of the demons’ instruments, which was coming from the center of town. He could see a billow of black smoke rising into the sky from that area, and the fierce, orange-yellow glow of firelight.
“Kagami!” He threw himself beside the priestess, who was fast asleep and curled up on the ground. He shook her. “They’ve moved on, we can leave now.”
The priestess stirred and inhaled sharply, stretching out her lithe body like a cat. She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes and, groggily, said, “Really? That’s good…”
“Yeah, and we better get outta here before they come back this way.” He stood up and gave a little bow. “Lead the way, m’lady.”
Kagami nodded. She dusted off her hakama and peered around the corner to see if the street was clear. There were only a few demons still hanging around, talking. She motioned Gabriel over and slipped, cat-like, into the open, ducking behind a parked car.
“We have to be careful,” she whispered as Gabriel joined her. “There is not a lot, but, even so, they still are a threat. Just follow what I do, and you will make it safely out of here.”
“You’re the boss.”
Kagami slunk out from behind the car and crouched behind a pile of mildewy garbage bags just a few feet away. It amazed Gabriel at how gracefully and quietly she moved; she was like a ninja rather than a priestess. For a few moments, Kagami was motionless. When the tall, gangly demon near her had turned its back, she waved him over.
Gabriel got up, but, unfortunately, hadn’t been paying attention to where he placed his foot. Something cold, jagged, and sharp ripped through his calf, and he tumbled to the pavement, cursing at the top of his lungs. He rolled onto his back and grasped his leg, feeling warm, sticky blood seeping through his fingers.
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"I love Wagner, but the music I prefer is that of a cat hung up by its tail outside a window and trying to stick to the panes of glass with its claws." - Charles Baudelaire
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