Kenta Mifune (Thing-A-Week 3)

Aside from writing short stories, I also enjoy playing roleplaying games. My favourites are Dungeons & Dragons and the varied World of Darkness games. Frequently, I run the games, but as of late, I have found myself on the players’ side of things. As such, the duty of making a sustainable, interesting character falls to me. For the Changeling game my friend Nick is running, I will be playing as a Japanese-American Ogre. As I am a writer, I have written a backstory for him…

———————————————————-

Kenta stirred an enormous pot, desperately trying to ignore its contents. The Great Sugashima, the terrible and powerful King of the Yokai, had tricked Kenta into His service nearly five years prior. Catching a glimpse of a soft, boiled face as it floated across the top of the seething water, Kenta did not wince. He had been stirring these pots too long to be affected by the sight of the boiled bodies; instead, the fear that overtook him was the fear of his rising hunger. He struggled with his hunger like a Yokozuna. He would watch it as it rose and tried to overtake him, then he would react. He would think of more pleasing times.

He thought of his life in Hokkaido. He was the youngest son in a family of farmers, and each of his brothers (there were five altogether) were planning to continue the family tradition. Kenta, aware that he stood no chance of inheriting his father’s lands, decided that he would train to become a chef. He moved to Tokyo and became an apprentice sushi chef, learning at the foot of several respected masters of the art.

However, his ascent to greatness faltered when he became entangled with a young run away called Yoko. She was pixie-like and beautiful, and stole his heart. However, in his amorous zeal, he found himself stepping into dark territory. It started small; he would give her leftovers that could not have been sold, and then he started making handouts for her. Ultimately, he found himself stealing from the registers so that he could pay the rent on the small apartment he eventually shared with her.

Soon, a son of his own was born, and he was followed swiftly by a pink slip from Kenta’s employer. With his name besmirched, and not wanting to burden his family, Kenta decided to move to the United States so that he could make a new start. Taking odd jobs, he found himself working for Akira Funaki, a Yakuza boss. Unbeknownst to Kenta, Funaki was a kitsune sent by The Great Sugashima to trick a skilled mortal into His service. Funaki, having found out about Kenta’s past as a sushi chef, decided that the young man would be an ideal target.

“Do you like your job?” shouted the trickster as he sashayed through The Great Sugashima’s kitchens. Kenta tried to remain oblivious, desperately clinging to his past memories like a sleeper that wished never to wake. A cruel whip bit into Kenta; the kitsune sneered as he looped the serpentine coils in his palm. “I asked you a question, underling. Answer me!”

“I like my job,” replied Kenta. He knew if he said otherwise that it would end in a beating administered by The Great Sugashima Himself. The kitsune walked away, easily satisfied by Kenta’s obeisance in the face of more pressing matters. When Funaki disappeared from the kitchen, Kenta kicked the side of the pot he was stirring, leaving a deep dent.

“It is a chain restaurant called Sugashima’s Sushi. It may not be glamorous work, but it will be enough to get you on your feet. I have personally taken care of all the arrangements; in three years, you will have made enough money to bring your son and wife over. Until then, in the face of your service, we’ll be able to take good care of them.” Even after all the years that had intervened, Kenta would never forget the day that Funaki told him that he would be sending him to America. It was a tearful good bye to his homeland and family, and his arrival in Califorbia was filled with troubles of their own, which he chose not to think of.

Sugashima’s Sushi was known for cheap sushi, often with a Western flair. The chain was renowned for having one of the most vile items on their menu: The Two Pound Tuna Roll. While the prospect of that much sushi would be enough to put most people off of fish for life, what was most disgusting about the product was the quality of the tuna. Often discolored and arriving in unmarked boxes, the fish also smelled strangely un-fish like. Despite the horror that the TPTR inspired in Kenta, he found that it sold astoundingly well.

A day came when the owner of the chain, Mr. Sugashima, was to come for a visit, the wrinkled, old man took a shine to Kenta. Of course, the man was no man, and when Mr. Sugashima turned out to be The Great Sugashima, Kenta was afraid. Abducted on the day of the visit, Kenta was tortured with hunger from that day until the end of his imprisonment.

He studied the pot’s contents as they swirled about. His hunger was growing, starting to overpower him. He heard the bellows of The Great Sugashima as He admonished Funaki for a poorly executed job. Kenta glanced at the pot, then at the door that led away from the kitchen. He had considered escape before, but had seldom had a chance. With The Great Sugashima preoccupied, Kenta slipped away.

Kenta’s escape was far more of a trial than his imprisonment. He found himself performing depraved acts in order to find his way across the Hedge. The memories that he held onto so dearly began to slip away with each goblin he had a transaction with. Some called on him to commit murders, others were helpful, but none bettered his lot in life. He eventually found his own way through the Hedge…

Returned to the mortal realm, Kenta has lost much of his humanity. He lives as a homeless man in a complex of boxes behind a Sugashima’s Sushi restaurant, along with a baker’s dozen of cats. The workers are unaware of him being anything more than a down-on-his-luck human; they offer him food and drink, and in turn he watches the restaurant at night, guarding it from tresspassers and secretly hoping that The Great Sugashima would visit while in His mortal coil.

In his mortal seeming, Kenta is a dirty, homeless man. He wears the tattered uniform of a sushi chef underneath a cape he fashioned out of plastic and festooned with dog and fish bones. He carries a cruel, rusty knife for protection. He is moody and territorial, and also fiercely protective of what he considers his. He sports a mangy beard, complimented by long bushy hair. His eyes seem to reveal a steel resolve, but also seem unendingly sad. Despite being homeless, he has a very large belly, which is the part of his Fae heritage that leaks through the most.

In his Fae seeming, Kenta is a horror to look upon. His eyes protrude from his skull and always seem to be darting around. Upon meeting his gaze, one often feels as though Kenta is wondering where he should start eating. His skin is a dark coal color, streaked with vibrant red; his hair is black, with wide bands of grey throughout. Tusks protrude from his lower jaw, and thick, yellow claws tip his fingers and toes. He walks, eternally hunching, on feet thick with calluses and wears nothing but a dirty and greasy fundoshi, along with a hooded cape festooned with bones.

The most interesting part of his Fae form is his stomach: each time he devours a creature, it appears as though the creature is once again whole inside of his stomach, and struggling to escape by pressing on his flesh. For example, if he eats a person, you might see a hand pushing against the inside of his stomach, then a foot, and perhaps a head or face. This effect is purely cosmetic, and terribly creepy.

Mentally, Kenta has a difficult time with reality. At times, he confuses the mundane world with the fae world, and vice-versa. He has invented an ingenious way of figuring out which is which: he wears two watches, one of which is set to the time in the real world, while the other is set to what he perceives is the time in the Fae world. Of course, the effectiveness of this ritual is highly questionable.

Side Notes:

The Great Sugashima is aware of Kenta’s escape, and he is suspiciously happy about it. Perhaps he has a plan for Kenta that requires his presence in the Mortal world.

Funaki is very upset about The Great Sugashima’s secretiveness, and resents His plans for Kenta.

The mystery meat that makes up the Two Pound Tuna Roll is what is made in The Great Sugashima’s kitchens. It is a mixture of human, goblin, and changeling flesh, and it is highly addictive, as it gives the person that eats it a slight magical high.

What Kenta wants the most, as a changeling, is to have a single reality again. As a mortal, his greatest desire is to see his family again.

————————————–

Now, aside from the backstory, I have also created a pair of illustrations of Kenta…

—————————————

The serious version of Kenta

—————————————————-

The Cartoon Version of Kenta

———————————————————

I used to draw much more than I do now. I had a fascination about drawing as realistically as possible. However, being a practical person, I figured that “If I wanted reality, why not just take a photograph?” So, I strayed away from drawing for a long time. I still draw occasionally, but now I favour a cartoony style.

For the drawing, I dressed Kenta in a ragged chef-ish uniform, rather than wearing just the fundoshi. I felt it was more appropriate…

~H

El Monstruo: Life Without the Mask (Part Nine)

How many alarms are in this place anyway? I asked myself the question aloud, and was hardly able to hear my voice above the din. Despite the deafening screams of the sirens strewn about the Dunwich Museum of Oriental Antiquities. It was like most of the museums I’ve seen. Long, illustrated scrolls were protected by panels of Plexiglas, while a monumental wooden Buddha sat in the darkness, unperturbed by the sound.

I could feel myself drawn deep into the museum; clumsily, I made my way past rooms lined with delicate porcelain that shuddered with each of my steps. I found what was calling me when I came across a room laden with ancient armor and weapons. My eyes passed over the relics and stopped their roaming when they fell upon a club behind glass; the handle was oak, and the rest of the instrument was covered in short, pyramid spikes. The small plaque read “Ornamental Kanabo”.

“Hey! What the Hell are you doing in here?” asked a security guard that had finally woke up and tracked me down. He was slight of frame and clutched the handle of his holstered gun while he shook his flashlight in my eyes. I pushed my palm against the glass and heard it begin to creak and groan. The guard fumbled with his gun; I was certain he finally understood what I was, and that it was making him panic.

The glass shattered and the security guard’s eyes bulged from his head, as though someone had suddenly started strangling him. As my hand wrapped around the kanabo, I felt a surge of power. My chest expanded and my stomach swelled. I could feel my skin burning red, and when the guard pulled his trigger in a panic, I felt the bullet crunch against my chest. I smiled, as much as I could smile with my tusks, and let the rage that had built up inside me pour out with a roar. Frozen with fear, the guard watched, moving only his eyes, as I walked past him.

I walked past an alarm station, gripped the kanabo, and smashed the electrical panel repeatedly. It felt good, but the noise continued. I knew it wouldn’t be long before real police officers showed up. I didn’t want to hurt anyone unnecessarily. It was bad enough being on the run after committing one murder.

In the parking lot, Kappa and Kyoko were sitting in a green sedan that Kappa had convinced a woman at the motel to let us borrow. Also in the car was Adam; he was the key to making Kyoko human again. I had considered trying to change back, but with the kanabo in hand, those thoughts flew from me like frightened pigeons. I liked the power, but I still wasn’t sure if I could be trusted with it.

For a moment, I felt like a hero again. I felt like I did when I first got the mask; I felt like I was strong, special, and looking at a life filled with possibilities. However, I reminded myself, You can’t screw it up this time.

“Let’s get a move on, Grant. We only have an hour before the sun comes up. We need to find Adam’s body and get this over and done with.” yelled Kappa, rubbing his eyes after a short nap.

“How are we going to find it? That long-neck woman was supposed to be here with the body, but she was a no show.” I replied just before spotting a powder blue Gremlin rolling into the parking lot. What looked like a dog-man was driving, and the long-necked woman was his passenger. The dog-man stopped the car and stepped out of it dramatically, letting his long, white scarf blow in the breeze. He was naked, except for the scarf, his pendulous scrotum swaying to an fro.

“Do you have Adam?” barked the dog-man.

“What of it?” I asked, forgetting about the alarms and the police that were likely soon to arrive. I leaned the kanabo against my shoulder, trying to seem confident.

“You have a club, so you must be the oni I’ve heard so much about. I’ll try to keep this simple. You trusted the wrong guy.” said the dog man as a rainbow of colors flowed into his scarf while an iron chest plate seemed to float up out of his fur.

“So, I’m guessing that you think I should have trusted you?” I responded, wondering what to make of the stranger. He seemed like the shape shifting tanuki that Kappa had told me about. I looked to Kappa, hoping for some sign of approval. He looked as confused as I felt. I looked for Kyoko, and saw her spilling out of the car. A green fire had started to consume the vehicle; I was sure that it was Adam, and I was sure he had broken free. I tightened my grip on the kanabo and prepared for the worst.

Kyoko rolled to her feet as claws sprouted from Kappa’s webbed hands. The dog man grabbed onto his scrotum, which began to grow in size. Tossing the prodigious sack over his shoulder, he winked at me, saying “My name’s Sam, and you can trust me. Never has a tanuki broken his word, and I give you my word that there is another way than what that devil is showing.”

Adam’s head, glowing with searing green fire, had no flesh on it. The fiery skull exploded out of the car, leaving a gaping hole in its roof. The fire burned so brightly that it cast a green light about all of us.

“I need my body now!” demanded the head, “Or I will end you all now!” Adam’s voice was shrill and inhuman. I could feel hatred growing inside me. He had strung us all along, saying that his way was the only way. I was foolish to believe him, but felt less so when I realized that Kappa and Kyoko believed him as well. I found myself wondering why we thought there was no other conceivable way. Was it Adam’s charisma? Perhaps it was that all of us were too jaded to think that there was a peaceful way to change our lives.

A ball of fire blew out from Adam’s mouth. Sam dodged past it, throwing his sack out like a net. Adam maneuvered swiftly out of the way, but floated too close to Kyoko, who leaped, grabbing for his hollow eye sockets. The skull tumbled through the air, evading Kyoko deftly, but falling directly into the path of a swing from by kanabo. I hesitated for a moment, but not long enough for Adam’s benefit. I swung the kanabo and it struck the floating head with a satisfying crack. Fragments of bone spilled onto the ground as the rest of the head sailed out of sight.

“Good swing,” complimented Sam, “But we need to go; The cops are coming.” I could hear their sirens wailing above the alarms of the museum. Piling into our cars, we set off onto the highway, following Sam’s Gremlin. I didn’t know where we would end up, but I all ready felt like life had improved. I was amongst my own kind now; we were like a team of superheroes. I couldn’t conceal my grin.

“You look happy.” said Kyoko, seeming rather unhappy.

“I am.” I said. “The bad guy’s been beaten, and now we have a better way to make you human again.”

“Are you sure he’s gone? His body is still out there, and if it finds his head before sunrise, Adam will be fine. And then he’ll be back on our trail.” Kyoko slumped down in her seat and closed her eyes.

“Well, at least there’s more of us now.” interjected Kappa, who had been silent since Adam freed himself from the safe. “There’s safety in numbers.”

El Monstruo: Life Without the Mask (Part 5)

“Why are you obsessing over him?” Arouna asked with a wide grin as he leaned over the bar. Rita fiddled with the vibrant pink straw that stood lazily in her drink. She had been mulling over the same question for weeks.

“I think its because I fell in love with him. There really is no other explanation. What else could keep him stuck in my head?” replied Rita. She had been dreaming about Grant since the day he left. The horror of the murder he committed had faded as she began to understand his condition. Now, she just wanted to get him the help he needed before he sunk deeper into self-destruction.

“Where I come from, a lot of people believe in evil spirits. They cower in fear at night, worried that the Suangi will come and take their blood. To me, it is like one of those old stories came true. Grant was a good man, and suddenly, it was as though he became a monster. It was that damn mask.”

“I think it is more than that. I saw what was under his mask, and he really did become a monster.”

“It is like a disease, and it is consuming him.” concluded Arouna, striking a pensive posture. “That is why you are obsessed with him. You want to help heal him. But I wonder if the authorities would see it the same way.”

“Sometimes, I wonder if anyone can see him the same way.” Rita took a sip of her drink, her thoughts wandering to the scene Adam showed her. She wondered who the man by the sea side was, and hoped that he could help Grant. In her heart, she knew that there was nothing she could do.

***

I found myself thinking about Grant and Kyoko, and I felt slightly guilty about leaving them alone. Could I forgive myself if she hurt Grant? Then again, could anything hurt him? He was a big boy, and he could take care of himself, and I was certain of that. Walking through the cool summer night, I surveyed the old motel. The neon sign buzzed quietly; it seemed to be the only element of the place that hadn’t fallen into disrepair. The paint on the walls looked terrible, as though they had psoriasis. In the shadows, the dumpsters were overflowing. When I spotted a raccoon, habit forced me to sing a song.

“Tan Tan Tanuki no kintama wa, kaze mo nai no ni, bura bura bura.” I smiled at myself; I knew that the raccoon was not a tanuki; hell, it wasn’t even the right species, but part of me wished he would have started singing along. I could have used someone I could trust. Then, I found myself wondering how an American tanuki would understand a Japanese song.

“What was that you were singing?” asked a meek looking woman wearing a powder blue windbreaker, her hair pulled into a messy bun.

“Just a song that I remember from when I was growing up.” I responded, trying to get a feel for who she was. A second inquisitive stranger was two inquisitive strangers too many.

“What does it mean?” she asked, making me nervous. I felt very naked without Grant to end any hostility.

“It is just a silly song.” I said, breaking off the conversation as quickly as I could. “I need to go. It was nice talking to you. Sorry I can’t talk any longer.” She smiled pleasantly at me as I walked away. My stride was even and calm, despite my heart’s furious pounding. I headed back to the motel room and let myself in. Kyoko and Grant were sitting on the beds, talking and smiling, distracted briefly by my entrance.

“I was just asking Grant how you learned to change yourself. Both he and I would like to learn. It would make things much easier, especially if we keep traveling together.” I glared at Kyoko’s wide, grotesque smile. If I could have understood what her eyes were trying to tell me, I might have been inclined to trust her. However, I was too distrustful.

“I can’t teach you.” I said at last. “I don’t have the patience for it, nor do we have the time.”

“Why the rush?” asked Kyoko, still with that smile.

“Because I can’t help but think that someone is following us.”

***

“I can taste her lips now.” said Adam, his hands gripping the steering wheel of the golden colored Volkswagen Vanagon. It was old and an eyesore, but it had enough room for all his intended passengers.

“Do you really think she’s still alive?” asked Carol, fidgeting with her lap belt as her neck began elongating. She smiled with satisfaction as her muscles stretched.

“Yes. It would take a lot more to kill her than a sea of glass. Soon, she will be free of her prison.” Adam pushed the accelerator down harder, urging the bus along the highway.

“And where will I be?” The question flew from Carol’s mouth, and her eyes widened as she wished she could lash her tongue out and pull the words back. Adam focused on the road, seemingly ignorant of Carol’s question. The van drifted along the road in relative silence. Carol wanted to ask the question again, but she was too terrified. She had been like a wife to Adam while they were in the world of mortals, but once they returned to the other world, all those years would mean nothing. In the back of the van, a cage rattled. One of the tsukumogami, a one-eyed umbrella with arms and a leg, was stirring.

Carol looked at the pitiful creature and empathized with it. Adam regarded the tsukumogami as tools. She began to wonder if he viewed her the same way. She rested her head on her lap and began combing her hair with her fingers.

“Soon, the red oni will be with us, and soon he’ll get us back home.” muttered Adam, as though it was a prayer. Carol eyed the mask that was crumpled in his coat pocket and let her thoughts wander.

El Monstruo: Life Without the Mask (Part Four)

Don pleaded with Adam as the bear trap growled and tightened its maw. His words were incomprehensible; warped by sobbing, every sentence was punctuated by gasping and wailing. Adam simply watched, enjoying the sight.

“It hurts, doesn’t it? That is no ordinary bear trap, as you might guess.” said Adam, whose words seemed to calm Don slightly. “That is what we call tsukumogami. On its one hundredth anniversary of its creation, an object may become invested with a spirit. They are the lowest of our kind, and I am a collector of them.”

“Can you get it off of me?” begged Don, his face contorted with agony.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t control the tsukumogami any more than you can control the sun. They are nearly animals, and I have never done well with animals.” Adam’s voice bore a thick coat of sarcasm. While he could never get a dog to fetch a stick, he could likely get a tsukumogami to write a novel while swimming the English Channel. Don couldn’t recognize the weakly veiled lie. His focus was entirely on the scraping sound that a sharp metal tooth was making against his shin bone.

Carol, wearing a form fitting shirt dress, stood far away. She usually delighted in the way Adam treated humans, but she never witnessed him torture someone for so long. For a moment, she wondered what it would have been like to be born human. Unlike many yokai, she was born as a yokai. She never knew what it was like to be a normal person, but thought that it would be terrible beyond imagining.

With a final snap, Don’s cries subsided. The tsukumogami seemed happy with its day’s work. Adam stroked it lovingly, pouring praise onto it like a gardener tending his plants. Carol thought that he seemed very kind and loving, and found herself hoping that there would still be room for her in Adam’s life after he returned to his wife.

***

 

Kappa sat on the bed, leaning back on the headboard. He looked at Grant and Kyoko and thought that they looked like fish waiting for a hook. He cleared his voice and let himself float backwards through his memories. He found himself remembering a day long ago, when he was a teenager.

“I was young and dumb, really,” he said to his audience. “I had deluded myself into thinking that I was one of the most handsome guys in school. Girls would ask me out on a date, and I thought it was because I was really something. They’d ask me to go to the movies, or shopping, or out to eat. I worked part time at a Chinese restaurant; the owner paid me under the table, allowing me to make the most of my minimal wage. I’d lavish gifts on almost any girl that liked me. I thought that I was young and successful. I had almost anything a young guy could want.

“Then, I started wondering why I never kissed any of the girls. All these dates, but never a kiss. I never even held hands. I found out the truth in the usual way; someone took pity on me and told me what had been happening, and what the girls called me behind my back. The friend who told me was a girl, Renee. She was bookish and quiet, but nice also. We had a few classes together, and talked a lot.

“’They call you free ride,’ she said, ‘because you take girls out and never try anything. It’s like a game to them. They want to see how much they can get out of you before you try anything.’ I was baffled about what she said. I didn’t want to believe it, so I just dismissed it as jealousy. However, it ate at me all day long and deep into the night. The next time I went on a date, I tried holding hands with the girl I was with and she shrank away. We broke up soon after. It started becoming a pattern, and eventually, I found that the truth I was told was indeed true.

“I wound up dating with Renee, and it was the greatest thing to ever happen to me. We dated through the rest of our first year in high school and spent the summer going on outings. I tried so hard to convince her to go to the beach. When we did,” Kappa paused, his eyes filling with tears. “When we did, we swam in the ocean. And…”

“What happened?” asked Kyoko, unwilling to let Kappa keep his secret. He had started this game, and she wanted to see its conclusion.

“A riptide pulled her out to sea. I tried to save her; I was a much stronger swimmer than she was. When she sank into the sea, I went under the water to find her. I must have swam too deep, because I started losing my breath. I don’t remember how the change happened, but I remember waking up on the beach early the next morning. I had a shell on my back and a bowl of water on my head.” Kappa let the sentence hang in the air, rolling off of the bed and onto his webbed feet. His brow furrowed with concentration, Kappa’s shape slowly changed to that of a man, fully clothed, wearing the same Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles shirt he always wore.

“That’s my story, and that is my shame.” he said with weighty drama. He left the room, leaving Kyoko and Grant in a stupor. They sat, gape mouthed, until the door slammed shut and Kappa disappeared into the night.

“Do you think we should go after him?” asked Grant.

“He’ll be back soon enough. Probably just needs some space. Guys can be like that sometimes. You should know that.” answered Kyoko. “So, do you really think I’m beautiful?” she asked, smiling grotesquely. Grant returned her smile with his own tusk-framed grin.

“I do.” he said, meekly. Looking into Kyoko’s dark, almond shaped eyes, Grant felt a peaceful sensation well up inside him. He felt at home, which was not something he was accustomed to anymore. Kyoko extended a hand clad in soft white leather and wrapped her fingers around Grant’s massive ring finger, and noticed a deformed silver band.

“Why do you still wear that ring?” she asked.

“Because it represents a promise I made.”

“The promises a man makes die when the man dies. You are an oni now, Grant. You really should let go of your old life.”

“I all ready gave up too much.” said Grant with a voice like a thunderbolt shattering a tree. Kyoko reeled backwards, afraid of the rage that could overtake Grant at any moment. She stopped her retreat when she saw that Grant wasn’t lashing out at her. She decided that she needed to be less direct if she wanted to earn the red giant’s trust, and she needed that trust badly.

 

 

El Monstruo: Life Without the Mask (Part Three)

Don was the kind of boy that liked to set fires. He was walking deep in the woods when he came across something which must have been an astonishing fire. It was the burned out form of a car, turned black as grease from extraordinary heat. He looked up the cliff and guessed that the car must have plummeted down from the highway. He saw the bent, broken, and burned trees that marked the vehicle’s descent. Peering inside, he hoped that he would see a body or something cool like that. Instead, there was just the burned interior of a sedan. He kicked open the trunk and found nothing but ashes. Ashes, and a mask.

“What do you have there, boy?” asked the deep voice of a man dressed in a well tailored black suit. Adam adjusted the flamboyant purple paisley cravat around his neck as he studied Don, who tried fruitlessly to hide the mask behind his back. Don lied poorly, his ears turning a deep red as he told Adam that he had nothing. Don’s eyes followed Adam’s hand as it slid to a patent leather holster that draped across his hip. Adam rested his hand threateningly on an antique pearl handled revolver. “Do you know what I love?” he asked.

Don tried to answer, thinking that an answer would save him. He hoped that guessing correctly would keep the expensive looking gun holstered. “Guns?” answered Don hopefully.

“No, but I am fond of them. What I love is the tongue of a liar. A liar’s tongue is sweeter than the tongue of someone that always tells the truth. It is a strange sweet, yet savory flavor.”

“Here! It’s a mask! Don’t hurt me mister, please! Don’t eat my tongue!” screamed Don as he tossed the unburned mask at Adam’s feet. Still screaming and pleading, Don ran away. Adam chuckled, considering shooting the unfortunate youth.

“You’re just going to let him go? That’s surprisingly beneficent of you.” said Carol, who was hidden from sight behind a tree.

“I’m not heartless. I don’t kill every human that crosses my path.” responded Adam. “Besides, a well told tale will make me just as powerful as eating him alive.”

“This is a side of you I have never seen.” responded Carol. She looked at the mask on the ground. “Hm. It doesn’t seem magical. I guess this just pushed him to realize his destiny sooner.” Adam studied the mask, then crumpled it into his pocket. As he and Carol walked away, a howl of pain echoed through the woods. Far away, Don found that bear traps can trap more than just bears.

 

****

 

“So, what’s your name?” asked Kappa, wishing he had a more poignant inquiry.

“I’m Kyoko.” replied the woman, still standing in the doorway.

“Are you from Japan?” asked Grant.

“I’m from Des Moines, but my parents came from Hokkaido.” replied Kyoko, feeling as though she was being grilled without any pressure. She was waiting for one of them to ask ‘who sent you?’, but they only seemed interested in getting to know her better. She always thought that there were two kinds of men: those that would underestimate her, and those that would want to get close to her. She concluded that Grant and Kappa were the kind that wanted to get closer to her.

“How did you become yokai?” the question flew from Kappa’s mouth and caught Kyoko in the gut. For a moment, she forgot that she was talking to other yokai, and the question caught her off guard. It was like asking a woman what she looked like naked. It wasn’t something you ask, it was something that you’d find out as nature intended. Flushed, Kyoko struggled to answer.

“You still haven’t answered me.” said Grant to Kappa, “I asked you the same thing before this trip. Why don’t you tell your story, then Kyoko can tell hers.” Kappa looked disgusted as he shook his head.

“You really aren’t being helpful, Grant.” retaliated Kappa, “She’s the one we can’t trust.”

“I understand if you don’t trust me. My sudden appearance must seem suspicious. I think that if we each shared our story that some of the mistrust will disappear. I will start; my story is brief, really. I wasn’t one of the pretty girls, and I wasn’t one of the slutty girls. I just existed; I warranted very little attention from the teachers. I was an adequate student and I stayed out of trouble. One day, a couple of boys were harassing me.” A smile formed inside of Kyoko’s heart. She looked at Kappa and Grant and was amazed at their rapt attention as she recounted the story she made up long ago. There were kernels of truth hidden in the story she was telling, but there were also lies which Kyoko was starting to believe from having told them so often.

“They wanted to have their way with me, and I refused. The little fat one pulled a knife on me and threatened to cut me if I didn’t do what he said.” Kyoko felt tears welling up in her eyes on cue.

“You don’t have to continue. I think we understand.” said Grant, moved by the artificial display of emotions. Kappa sat in stolid silence. He wanted to be moved by her story, but he couldn’t help but feel like there was something wrong. She is far too forth coming with this story and those tears. He considered her facial expressions, distorted by her slit mouth. He couldn’t tell if she was smiling or frowning, nor could he read any emotion in her eyes. Maybe she has distanced herself so much from the assault that she no longer has emotions about it. Is that even possible? Kappa found himself willing to trust Kyoko, at least a little.

“My story is hard for me to tell,” started Grant, “because I’ve only just begun to understand it. It is a puzzle inside of my head, and every time I come near completing it, someone throws more pieces in front of me. I know that I become destructive when the mood takes me. Sometimes it is anger, other times it is when I feel ashamed. I think I started down this path when I wasn’t able to show my fiancée my emotions. We had been together for years, and all of those years, I hid so much from her. I couldn’t bear telling her how I felt. I pushed all of the emotions away, until the day that I started wearing that damned mask. I made the lock, and the mask was the key. It started a transformation that is still happening.”

“Are you hoping to stop it?” asked Kyoko.

“I’m just following where I’m being led. I’ve felt myself being pulled North. I think there is something I need.”

“It is your club.” said Kyoko. Kappa looked like he had been slapped in the face; he hadn’t even thought that Grant was looking for his club. Every Oni had one; a thick club whose head was coated in metal and adorned with spikes. He found himself remembering the Oni that guarded the way into the Other World, the world of spirits. His club was taller than a man and thicker than a cow.

“The club will make you stronger. It is a natural extension of your spirit. They say that an oni with his club is indestructible. I’ve never seen anyone mad enough to test that folklore.” said Kappa, trying to redeem himself. “I never considered it before, but it makes sense.” Grant listened to Kappa, and felt some comfort knowing that there was a reason he was traveling aside from being a fugitive. An unpleasant thought flashed through his mind. If the club truly makes me indestructible, what will happen when the cops find me?“I guess that means it’s my turn.” said Kappa woefully.

El Monstruo: Life Without the Mask (Part Two)

“It would be nice to go home again, Adam.” said Carol as her head bobbed at the end of her long, serpentine neck. A thin, red-lipped smile crossed her pale face. “Will Kappa help us?”

“I don’t know. He’s never been a friend to our cause.” replied Adam. His body remained seated across the room, leaning against the door. His head bounced and rolled along, finally resting on the window sill. “But we need that Oni, and we need him soon.”

“But he doesn’t even have his metal staff yet. What use will he be?”

“He will find it soon enough, and when he does, he will be able to lead us back into our domain.” responded Adam.

“I’ve been wondering; what will you do when we get beyond the door?” asked Carol as her neck continued to stretch.

“I will bring my wife back here.” Adam said, smirking. Carol’s smile widened; she had met Adam’s wife only once, and it was at her trial. She didn’t see much of her, as she was wrapped inside of a sack; however, she seemed nice enough. Carol wondered if it was even possible for Adam’s wife to still be alive, as she was tossed into a river of glass shards and left for dead. Yet, many yokai could survive much worse; each one had some way of surviving even the most drastic of circumstances. The ring of a cellular phone broke the silence. Adam’s head rolled towards his body as his hand flipped the phone open.

“I can see them.” said the sultry, feminine voice on the phone.

“Good. Stick with the plan I outlined earlier. Remember! We need the Oni.”

“Yes Adam.”

***

Sitting on the side of my twin bed in the bland motel room I shared with Kappa, I looked at my changing body. My nails had become claws and my tusks had grown longer and sharper. After attempting to shave my head or my beard, I found that the hair just grew back more swiftly and more wiry. Afraid that if I cut my hair too many times that it would eventually break the scissors, I decided to leave it alone. My stomach had grown to giant proportions; when I sat down, it would rest on my thighs.

Laying down, I looked across at Kappa. He told me that he learned to control his shape, but when he slept, he would revert to his true form; a giant man-turtle with a bowl of water on his head. Because of his bowl, Kappa always slept sitting up. I still hadn’t gotten used to it. There are a lot of things I had to get used to. Sometimes, I would miss the mask. It hid my face well. Instead of looking like a monster, I looked like a weirdo.

Unable to get comfortable, I rolled out of bed and went into the shower, which was barely big enough for my expanding frame. I stripped off the tiger-striped shorts I wore to bed and let the cold water spray against my skin. It was cool and refreshing; I could imagine the water washing everything away. No more red skin, no more horns, and no more guilt. Why did I still feel bad for killing that thug? He was going to try to kill me. I should have stayed in Little Arkham and talked with the police. Instead, I ran.

I switched off the shower and dried myself. I wrapped the towel around myself and walked out onto the small porch that jutted out from the motel room. The night air was cool, but not as fresh as it was back in Little Arkham. I longed for the air of the ocean; it would always make me feel fresh and alive. The city air was stagnant and stifling. I looked at the towering buildings and found myself wanting to knock them down. I wanted to break the street lights that were out shining the stars. In my anger, I almost didn’t notice a person watching me from the parking lot. It was a woman standing next to a pale pink Vespa. She took off her matching helmet, loosing a torrent of shining black hair. A white scarf was wrapped around her neck and mouth and I wondered how well the person she was talking to on her cell phone could hear her.

Sliding her phone into her white leather jacket’s pocket, she began to walk closer to the building. Our eyes met for a brief moment, and I felt entranced. Her dark brown eyes were like an abyss waiting to swallow me.

“Do you think I’m beautiful?” she yelled in my direction. I began to stammer and mumble. I croaked out a yes, partially because it was true and partially because I didn’t know what to say. Her knee high white boots flashed in the night as she sprinted into the building. I dismissed the interaction until I remembered what I looked like. By the time I made it to the door, it was swinging open. The woman was peeling off her scarf, revealing a gaping mouth filled with needle-like teeth.

“Do you still think I’m beautiful?” she said with a high pitched laugh.

“There’s no answer he can give that is right.” said Kappa, who I was sure had been asleep. His voice was watery and thin; it was the voice of his true form. He leapt to his webbed feet and crouched low to the ground, ready to pounce.

“I haven’t come for a fight.” said the woman, backing away slowly. “I was just having some fun. I saw your pal outside and figured I’d come and say hello. It isn’t everyday you see an Oni in America.” The tension in the air lifted and Kappa relaxed, sitting on the floor. I wanted to trust her; she was a yokai, that much I thought I knew. I wondered if she knew what I had done. I also wondered if she had come to help me like Kappa did.

To Part 3

El Monstruo (Part Six)

The thin man reeled in his fishing line and smiled smugly at el Monstruo, who froze immediately. Turning, he watched as the man sat cross-legged on the sand, gazing at the rolling ocean.

“How do you know that I’m turning into something?” asked el Monstruo meekly.

“We smell our own.” answered the man as he pulled the worn sandles from his feet. To el Monstruo’s astonishment, the sandles each had a single eye that looked eagerly at the surf. The sandles sprouted little arms and legs; they raced to the surf and began splashing each other. El Monstruo sat on the ground, his head swimming. The man looked at el Monstruo’s confused expression and giggled. “You don’t know anything about us, do you? You never heard of the yokai?”

“The yokai?” asked el Monstruo.

“That’s what we are. You are an Oni; I can tell from those horns and teeth. It is a curse and a blessing.”

“And you are one of these yokai?”

“Yes. I am a kappa, a water spirit. When I was a man, I fell into the water by a bridge. When I was under the water, I began to change. Instead of drowning, I became what I am.” replied the kappa in a bouncing tone. “Now you are what you are. The only question is, how did you become what you are?”

El Monstruo let his thoughts drift back to when he received the mask. “I started wearing a mask. It was red and reminiscent to what I look like now. Do you think that it did this to me? Maybe the mask was to me like water was to you?” El Monstruo didn’t notice the flash of agony wash over the kappa’s face.

“There was more to it than that.” replied the kappa softly. El Monstruo urged him to continue, but the kappa wouldn’t let go of his secrets that easily. He simply changed the subject, saying “What did you feel when you wore the mask?”

“I felt powerful. I felt changed. It was like the slate was wiped clean. I liked it.”

“Why did you like it?” asked the kappa, paying little attention to the sandles as they romped and played. El Monstruo’s eyes watched them intently, wondering if he had finally gone insane. “Why did you like it?” asked the kappa again.

“Because it let me be someone else. I was just tired of being who I was.” said el Monstruo, obfuscating the truth slightly. One of the sandals grabbed the other and heaved it into the ocean with a great, cackling laugh. The kappa listened intently, letting el Monstruo open up slowly. El Monstruo found himself telling the kappa more than he ever intended. He told him of the night he came home to find his fiancee with another man. He told the kappa how he just left, without so much as a word. El Monstruo’s eyes lit up when he told the kappa about Rita, who had helped him get on his feet after the break up, and then how she helped him after he started wearing the mask. El Monstruo realized that he was smiling broadly. “Talking about her always makes me feel happy.” 

The kappa took off his sailor hat, revealing a bowl of water that was balanced on his head. He felt it was time to reveal a little more of himself. ”This is part of who I am now,” said the man, “I need the water no matter where I go. Since that time in the water, I’ve lived on the fringe of the normal world. No one would ever notice a simple beach bum, you know? I just sit here and fish. I can’t live a normal life anymore. Could you imagine going to a job interview wearing a bowl on your head? This is part of my punishment, doled out because of the things I have done.”

EL Monstruo reflected on the kappa, then, pointing at the sandles said, “What did they do?”

“They are over one-hundred years old. Now they have their own lives. They let me walk on them only because of the good deeds I did for them.”

“You aren’t being very forth-coming about yourself.” said el Monstruo abruptly. An injured look appeared on the man’s face. Pointing a finger at himself, the kappa said, “I am trying the best that I can. This is hard for me.” A feeling of anger creeped over el Monstruo. He wanted to grab the bowl off the kappa’s head and smash him in the face with it. The kappa must have seen the anger rising in el Monstruo’s eyes, because he began to rise to his feet.

“I don’t want to fight you,” he said, “I know I can’t win. I just thought you might want some help. I’m sorry.” The kappa called to the sandles, which dashed back to him, throwing themselves at his feet. He slipped his feet into them and cautiously stepped back. He had dealt with an oni in the past, an he knew that he stoo no chance in a physical confrontation. He tried to soothe el Montruo, but realized that a rage had come over the red-skinned ogre. 

El Monstruo felt his fists curling into tight balls. He wanted his way; he was tired of the kappa’s hints and subterfuge. He wante to know the kappa’s secret. He had told his own, after all. Then, el Monstruo felt tears well up in his eyes and pour down his cheek. His emotions ran wild and confusing circuits through his heart and stomach. He considered what he was about to do and what he had done in the past. He roared with primal anger as the kappa continued a slow retreat.

“Grant! What are you doing!” yelled a feminine voice that cut through the turmoil that filled el Monstruo’s body. He turned to see Rita, who was followed closely by Arouna.

“Calm down, friend.” said the kappa as sweetly as he could. “They’re friends here to help you. Don’t let what you’ve become destroy them.” El Monstruo felt a rush of calmness flow through him. His anger, chilish upon examination, deminished quickly when Rita drew closer. He could smell the scent of flowers on her and he immediately thought of great rolling fields of multicolored blooms billowing in a gentle breeze as Rita ran through them gleefully. He held his arms out for her embrace, but she didn’t come any nearer.

“You need to go now.” said Arouna in a deep, thickly accented voice, “The kid is dead. The cops are gonna look for you. They are coming soon.”

“Why did you do it, Grant?” asked Rita, weeping.

“I guess you met me at just the right time.” remarked the kappa as he scanned the horizon, looking for police. El Monstruo felt a tremendous sensation of shame and hung his head sadly. He realized that Rita would no longer stand by his side as she stood there crying. He hated himself, because he had made those tears. “Come on, friend,” said the kappa, “the road is long and often short of cucumbers.”

                                                               

El Monstruo (Part Four)

El Monstruo let himself sink deeply into the warm bath water, but not so deep as to get his mask wet.  When he asked if he could use Rita’s bath tub, she insisted that he take the mask off. Despite himself, he told her that he would take it off. While he didn’t feel right about taking the mask off, he was starting to feel itchy; sometimes, it felt like the mask was crawling on his face. He tugged at the laces and pulled the mask off. How long has it been? Two months all ready. I wonder… El Monstruo pulled himself from the tub; dripping water, he walked to the mirror. Apprehensively, he looked at himself in the mirror.

Rita was sitting on the porch watching the tide coming in. She was proud that she stayed ‘just friends’ with el Monstruo. He was beautiful in his own way. He was tender and caring with children, and he had grown to be extremely gregarious since starting his job at the Freeky Tiki. Arouna had confided in Rita that he wasn’t sure if the burly man was the right fit for the restaurant. However, el Monstruo’s presence warded off any chances of drunken patrons starting a brawl and soon he found himself working in the kitchen. Rita was quite happy with the man that el Monstruo was becoming; Grant was meek and mousy, while el Monstruo was quite the opposite. Her quiet satisfaction was interrupted when she heard el Monstruo yell out.

Rita rushed into the seaside condo and rapped on the bathroom door urgently.

“What’s wrong!” she asked, praying that there was nothing wrong at all. El Monstruo didn’t answer. “El-Mo, what’s wrong? I heard you yell.” She put her ear to the door and could hear sobbing. Her imagination painted the picture of a suicide; in her mind’s eye, Rita imagined el Monstruo laying in her tub with his wrists cut deeply. She couldn’t bear the idea of him giving up when everything was going so well. She started to open the door and el Monstruo slammed it shut, dropping his weight against it. Rita pounded on the door desperately.

“You can’t see!” said el Monstruo pleadingly, “I need to put my mask back on.” El Monstruo grabbed his mask and slid it over his head once more. He wrapped a towel around himself and opened the bathroom door to see Rita with tears in her eyes. She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed. He folded his arms around her waist and held her close.

“I was so worried about you.” she said while weeping. “I thought you killed yourself. I was so worried!”

“I’m sorry,” replied el Monstruo, “I just took my mask off.” El Monstruo’s voice trailed off as he lost himself in Rita’s embrace. She smelled nice, like she was kissed by the sun and massaged by the sea breeze. She took her arms from around his neck and took a step away. To el Monstruo, it seemed like she had suddenly became wary and frightened. In truth, she felt his hardening manhood pushing at her from beneath the towel and realized what she was doing. When he saw her turn away, el Monstruo apologized even though he was unsure what he was apologizing for.

“No, you don’t need to apologize. It isn’t your fault. It’s my fault. I just…” Rita’s voice faltered and she felt herself starting to panic. She didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything. The pair stood silently for a minute or more, searching for the right thing to say.

“This is awkward. I just don’t know what to say.” said Rita weakly.

“I’m sorry” responded el Monstruo, frustrating Rita. He turned to go back into the bathroom and Rita took a couple steps forward, and then she noticed that the mask was not tied. In the gaps between the laces, she saw that el Monstruo had black, curly hair and that his neck looked red in color. She stepped back, slightly shocked. El Monstruo shut the door and started to towel himself off. Rita tried to convince herself that el Monstruo’s skin wasn’t actually red under the mask. It’s just my imagination. He just Grant under that mask. But Grant didn’t have black hair.She was still thinking when el Monstruo came back out of the bathroom dressed in white linen shirt and pants.

“Thank you.” he said without much feeling. He tried to stride towards the door, but Rita stood in his way.

“What made you scream?” she asked him directly. Perhaps not the most tactful approach, but I need to know. I need to know what’s under that mask.

“Please don’t be afraid, and please, don’t tell anyone.” El Monstruo questioned his reasoning. He would show her what he saw, and hopefully she would still talk to him. Hopefully she will keep it secret. El Monstruo took off his mask, and Rita felt her knees buckle.

“What happened to you?” she asked as she studied el Monstruo’s face. It was deep red and his awkward smile exhibited a mouth filled with jagged fangs. A wiry beard was growing on his chin and his hair was matted. She could see tiny lumps emerging on his forehead.

“I don’t know.” said el Monstruo truthfully. Rita extended a hand to touch his face; her touch excited el Monstruo’s emotions. He hadn’t felt a woman’s hand on his face in so very long, however she withdrew her hand swiftly.

“Your face is scalding hot!” she exclaimed, trying to cool her hand by waving it about. El Monstruo’s head tipped downward and he felt something growing in his stomach. It was despair, hate, anger, and love all at once. He had truly become a monster; although he didn’t know how he became a monster, he knew how beautiful women usually treat monsters. He also knew how most stories about monsters normally ended. Rita considered what she should do next. She felt the urge to run from el Monstruo, but she also felt the need to help him. He looked at her sheepishly and simply said that he was sorry.  

To Part 5