The Psyche Diver Trilogy: Demon Hunters (19 page)

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Authors: Baku Yumemakura

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fiction, #Fantasy

BOOK: The Psyche Diver Trilogy: Demon Hunters
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“I know you’re awake,” Fuminari said. He had wrapped a towel around his waist, but his powerful upper-body was bare. “I’ve dealt with the body. Buried him in the mountains.” Fuminari placed both hands on the bed.

“Why did you have to kill him?” Ryoko whispered, still with her back to him.

“For my own survival.” Ryoko lay silently. “I couldn’t let him go--it’s kill or be killed. The same applies to you now.”

“But to
murder
someone.”

“Look, we’re not in some girly drama group, you don’t get second chances in this life. You heard what he said about Munakata--he’s already dead. We’ve been hurled into a cage with hungry tigers and no-one’s coming to help us. We’re nothing more than food, so we better eat them first. That’s all there is now.”

Ryoko turned around to look up at him. The twilight of the window reflected tears in her black eyes. She sidled up to Fuminari’s arm. The bed sheets fell away, revealing her naked upper-body. Her well-formed breasts flattened as they pressed up against him. She took his left arm with one hand, his palm in the other. She brushed over the scar where his fingers were missing, as though seeking confirmation. Her warm breasts pushed into his chest. She was trembling slightly. She stood from the bed and hugged him close. Occasional shudders ran through her delicate frame as she buried herself in his body.

She had seen death for the first time, and she was under the same roof as its herald. The abnormality of the situation was playing havoc with her sense of equilibrium. He was also the man that had saved her from the kidnappers. She clung to him, completely naked. She was slender, but her hips and chest were well developed.

“Take me...please, take me.” She clung tighter, rubbing her body into him. She brought a hand down his back and pulled his towel off. She got onto her knees and reached out for his cock, holding it gently in her hands. She opened her mouth and slowly took it in, flicking with her tongue as her head bobbed. Fuminari stood glaring at the space in front of him in agony. After a while Ryoko stopped and looked up at him. His face was demonic. He was still limp as she pulled her mouth away.

“Fuminari...you...” Ryoko’s voice was hoarse.

“That’s right,” Fuminari muttered, biting down on his lips, “it doesn’t work.” Ever since Hanko robbed him of his fingers, Fuminari had been unable to get an erection. Fuminari ground his back teeth together, the sound echoed through the half-light of the room. Ryoko tried again, taking him into her mouth. Pain jolted through Fuminari’s left hand. It was the illusory pain of his missing fingers. She continued to stroke it with her mouth and hands, even reaching around to finger around his anus.

“It’s okay.” Fuminari took her head in his hands and made her stand up. He hoisted her into the air and put her down on the bed, spreading her legs wide. Her buttocks tensed and her hips began to shiver with small, delicate movements. She began to moan. She was already dripping wet, the tops of her thighs moist. He buried his face in the soaked parting between her legs. He worked with a ferocity that seemed to harbor a burning hate for female flesh; he licked her, sucked her, bit her. She came almost immediately. Fuminari continued with desperate greed, his face contorted into something hellish.

I’m going to kill it...
he thought.
Whatever happens, I’m going to kill that motherfucking freak.
The single burning desire was all that sustained him. No matter how long he feasted on the woman’s sex, his appetite was bottomless.

3

A gigantic black creature lurked in the darkness.

The creature kept its breathing in check, shrouding its aura in darkness as it waited among the trees that lined the garden, biding time for its prey to arrive. The creature was Fuminari Senkichi. His oversized frame blended impressively with the night. The house was not particularly large, but the grounds surrounding it were expansive. Its outer reaches were lined with Japanese Cypress, behind them was a protective wall encircling the whole property. The place seemed too opulent for a single inhabitant.

Three hours had passed since Fuminari hid himself in the trees. It was 11pm. The buzzing of summer insects vibrated in the air, the night breeze was uncharacteristically cool for July.

After another 30 minutes a car pulled up to the iron gates. A man in a suit got out. There was the sound of a door closing and the car moving forward, then the gates slid open, closing again soon after. The man emerged alone and began to walk toward the entrance of the house. When he opened the door, Fuminari Senkichi was already behind him.

Fuminari pushed the man’s back, sending him tumbling through the just-opened door; he had snuck behind with the agility of a jungle cat. Fuminari’s thick lips burgeoned into a smile, brandishing teeth as he closed the door behind him.

“Akio Ishibashi, correct?” he growled deeply.

Ishibashi looked momentarily stunned, but regained his composure with impressive speed. “And you might be?” he replied, voice steady.

“A man with a purpose,” Fuminari said.

“May I turn on the lights?”

“Go ahead. Try anything and I’ll beat you to an inch of your life.”

“Of course.” As he spoke Fuminari heard the click of a switch, and the entrance was suddenly bathed in light. Ishibashi was short, only 160 centimeters or so. Fuminari was probably double his weight. The man wore a light summer suit; his tie was fastened despite having been on his way home. He wore black, thick-rimmed glasses. His hair was trimmed short and parted cleanly to one side.

The man appeared intelligent, but Fuminari could tell it was just a facade, that just a layer beneath resided a devious snake. His appearance was that of any other businessman on the street, but the way he was handling the current situation separated him from that crowd.

“You’re a big guy,” Ishibashi said.

Fuminari wore a pair of black slacks and a black long-sleeve shirt. His shoes were black, so were the gloves on his hands. “Impressive composure. I’m starting to enjoy myself.”

“What do you want?” asked Ishibashi.

“I have a hunch you already know what I’m after.”

“Not a clue.”

“You know a guy called Ozaki?”

“Ozaki?” Ishibashi frowned, knotting his brow.

“Ozaki Yoshio. Don’t dick around.”

“Ah yes, of course, the private detective.”

“That’s better.”

“I have employed his services for our research a few times, it is only natural that I know his name.”

“By ‘services’, you mean kidnapping of course.”

“I’m sorry?”

“What other use would you have for a dead-end detective like Ozaki? You abducted the reporter Yoichi Munakata, and you attempted to abduct his friend, Ryoko Kitano.”

“Preposterous. He did these things?” Ishibashi’s play acting was impressive.

“Yeah, he did.”

“Even if it were true, it has nothing to do with me. It must have been something he took upon himself to do.”

“Hm.” Fuminari grinned, intrigued. He was suddenly right next to Ishibashi, towering above him. “I happened to hear this directly from Ozaki’s mouth.”

“Then you should have him testify in court. If you cannot, his words are all but meaningless, whatever the truth may be.”

“You can feign ignorance all you want, it makes no difference. We’ve got the whole night. I’ll make you confess, and I’ll take my time.”

“I will have you arrested for trespassing.”

“Go ahead, if you can, that is. Beside, I’m pretty sure you’re no fan of the cops yourself.” Fuminari pressed his hands into Ishibashi’s shoulders, slowly strengthening his grip. Ishibashi’s face contorted in pain. “I’m sure you like massages. I’ll rub you down until your bones creak.” Fuminari lifted Ishibashi by the shoulders and stepped up to the entrance hall. He kept his shoes on.

“Could you at least take your shoes off, perhaps?” Ishibashi’s voice finally began to tremble from the pain.

“Sorry, it’s a habit. I need to make sure I can run if I need to.” Fuminari sneered, drawing his face close to Ishibashi’s. He put him back on the floor.

Ishibashi removed his shoes and placed them in the alcove before turning back to Fuminari. He looked around 35, but his calm was disproportionate to his age. “If you want to talk I will listen. Would you care to join me in the study?” He started to walk ahead.

“Wait.” Fuminari grabbed Ishibashi’s arm and twisted it behind. “I’m an intruder in your house, I don’t know what you’ve got stashed. What if you’ve got a gun hidden somewhere? You don’t expect me to just let you wander about freely, do you?”

Ishibashi’s resilience was worthy of praise. Any normal person would have cried out in pain having their arm twisted like that, but there was not even a whimper.

“I can see it’s going to be a fun night.” Fuminari walked slowly down the corridor, keeping Ishibashi in front of him.

“Here we are, the study.” Ishibashi came to a stop in front of a heavy-looking wooden door.

“Turn on the lights, then open the door,” Fuminari said.

“They’re on the inside.”

“Then you’ll go in first, slowly. If you try anything funny I’ll break your neck.” Fuminari trailed Ishibashi as they entered the room. “Turn them on.” The moment he said the words Fuminari felt the hairs on the back of his neck prick up.

“Fuck!” Fuminari shouted as he jumped into a low squat. Ishibashi’s arm snapped with a nasty crunch. From his crouch Fuminari launched his left leg backward, it made a direct impact, his ankle smashed into someone’s chest, probably breaking a rib. The lights turned on at almost the exact moment the man’s body thudded to the floor. Three men stood apart from each other with guns trained on him. The other lay unconscious near the door.

“Looks like you got me,” Fuminari muttered. There was nothing he could do with three guns on him in close quarters. Even if they missed, they were positioned so they would have to be massively off target to hit one of their own.

“You would be smart to let me go. I have no value as a hostage. These men would not hesitate to kill both of us if the alternative was to lose you,” Ishibashi said, the pain had left him covered in a greasy sweat.

Fuminari sensed he was telling the truth. It was clear enough from their eyes, the way they stood guns ready. They had the same foul stench about them as Tsushima, the man whose arm he had broken when they had fought in Aoyama. Tsushima had attacked Fuminari with the full knowledge that he was sacrificing his arm. These men had the same look. The only question was whether they needed him alive.

If they wanted him dead, his only recourse was to fight for his life using Ishibashi as a shield. If they had lined up diagonally with Fuminari in the center, or if they all faced one direction, he would have a fighting chance. It would be the same as facing a single gunman. If they failed to get him with a fatal shot, he should at least be able to knock them down. Landing a fatal shot on a moving target is incredibly difficult.

But he could not do it from his current position. He would be taken down by two of the others while he was still busy with the first. The man that attacked Fuminari from behind had been nothing but a decoy to distract him from the gunmen.

I fell for their trap,
he thought,
but they’re not going to kill me straight away. If that was their plan they would have done it already.
They only had to accept that they would hit Ishibashi too, and then sink bullets into both of them. They could finish the job once he was immobilized. Ishibashi would be injured in the process, but they did not look like they would care too much. No, they were planning to capture him, then force him to reveal why he was looking into them; only then would they kill him. That had to be it. Fuminari let Ishibashi’s hand go; he slowly rose to his feet. “Okay, you’ve got me.”

Ishibashi stood unsteadily, cradling his broken arm, he collapsed painfully back to the floor. Nobody moved to help. They were not going to give even a moment’s window to Fuminari. They stood fast, guns on him. If they had showed even the slightest weakness, he had been ready to launch his counter-strike, but he could see it was not going to happen.

“Senkichi Fuminari, I assume.” Ishibashi was panting.

“I thought you might recognize me. Difficult to maintain a disguise when I’m built like this.”

“I heard that some ridiculous hulk had hauled Ozaki in. So it was only natural to expect you to show up here too.”

“So you set a trap.”

“At a number of places, not just here. My office and Toyama’s place as well.”

“Guess I slipped up.”

“You have been doing well, considering you’re working by yourself. Enoh is head over heels with you. He said he was hoping to have the chance to finish you off himself.”

“Enoh?”

“The old man you battled with not too long ago, in Aoyama.”

“Enoh...so that’s the old fruit’s name.”

Ishibashi got up and walked to the desk near the window, still shaky on his feet. He took the phone in his good hand and sandwiched it between his shoulder and neck. He dialed a number, panting heavily. The three men kept their guard up the whole time.

“Fuminari is with us. We will drive him to the agreed location now,” Ishibashi said briefly before replacing the receiver.

“Taking every precaution,” Fuminari said.

“We just pay proper respect to the strength of the body. After all, we have people like Enoh on our side. He warned us to be very cautious around you, you have him to thank for the three gunmen here. Enoh was waiting for you at my office. He will be quite disappointed to find out that we got you instead.”

They heard a car pull up outside. Two men came in. When they blindfolded him, Fuminari began to regret his decision.

Maybe I should have tried to take them down while I had Ishibashi.
They bundled him into the car. It pulled away without pause.

It felt as though he was being driven into the depths of darkness.

4

Fuminari was ushered into a chair, hands tied behind him.

They had driven for close to an hour before arriving at this place. He had no idea where they were. All he knew was that he had been led into a building and then into a room inside the building... And that he was tied up. They had used a climbing rope to tie him; no human strength would be enough to tear it apart.

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