Bad Memories

The last thing Ryota remembered was a typewriter on his working table, a few words on the page dangling from the typewriter and a pile of crumbled pages on the floor.

Now he found himself standing on a hill, above shouting men with katanas, nunchucks, chains, daggers, sickles, and guns waving above their heads.

Around fifty men were halfway up the hill. Although he could handle any level of horror, people stabbing, cutting each other's guts, tearing their limbs, and firing destructive spells in real life made him dizzy.

And although he was at the top, standing away from the chaos, he had no idea what was going on or why was he safe and everyone else was not. What about Sengoku and Hito? Were they safe?

He saw a small, old, wooden cabin on looking around; then realized he was not alone. A woman with wrinkles over her face jumped in front of him with a wide grin and a raised hand.

That old woman had sagging breasts, barely covered by the piece of cloth she had wrapped around her torso. Her hair was gray and wild, like that of a hag witch. Her eyes were demised and dark, her lips torn, and her nose pierced.

In the middle of her forehead was: Obasan, in Japanese kanji. It was weird, Ryota thought, for her to have her name tattooed on her forehead.

"Who are—" Before he could complete, she fired a spell which sent Ryota a few feet away with acute pain in his guts.

He landed in a pile of dry leaves, and the back of his head was caked in mud – he felt that wet and cold sensation on his neck.

Obasan. Ryota pushed himself off the ground thinking of her. He held onto his stomach, while he had to figure out the situation and fight at the same time.

The old hag strode across the hill with a wand in her rotten, old hand. She rubbed her full-of-blisters cheek and ran fast for someone as old as her.

Oh, shit. A spell. How do you kill a Hag again? He never liked Hags, so he had spent more time reading about other monsters in the Monster Manual Sengoku had imported from the States.

From behind Obasan, two shadows erupted. Ryota recognized them as soon as they stepped under the moonlight.

Hito's jeans were torn at the bottom and the shirt he was wearing was into shreds, barely leaving anything to cover him.

You didn't really have to be the tallest of them three to swing an arm around Oba's neck, then strangle the life out of that rotting old woman. Still, Sengoku let Hito do the honors.

Then Sengoku, whose white hair was covered in mud and dust, and his T-shirt was torn across the chest, jumped away with his wand stretched out at Obasan.

Ryota jumped to his feet, hoping to help them kill the Hag, but Sengoku's spell was enough to create a hole in her obliques, then send that old hag to hell.

From behind them, a silhouette appeared. This was of a woman with long hair and sharp fangs. Ryota opened his mouth to warn them, but no words came out as the woman dug her fangs into Sengoku's neck.

Twisting his head to the side before he could act, that woman pulled his head like plucking an overgrown weed from the backyard. Then she kicked it over the hill.

Hito punched her, then stepped back. He had brought a switchblade with him, just an old switchblade. He threw it, aimed at the back of her head.

She groaned first, then scoffed as pulled the knife out of her shoulder in a flash. Her eyes remained fixed on Hito, even as she raced towards him.

Ryota raised his hand – he knew the spell now. He could cast a fireball, at least – but before anything, he felt a sharp clutch over his shoulder.

Hesitantly, he turned. The grip shifted from his shoulder to the neck, choking him. His eyes met with the red eyes of a man whose face was hidden under his hood.

The man opened his mouth, revealing two sharp fangs, and strings of saliva. His eyes widened till they glowed bright red.

The woman snapped Hito's arm, spun him around, and dug her fangs into his neck before twisting his head off his body.

Hito's eyes went blank as he gave in to the pain. Blood spattered from his neck, washing the woman's face.

Ryota's heart beat fast, but his brain was frozen. His best friend's blood was sucked away, just like that.

The man opened his mouth wide. Ryota imagined him looming over him, ready to dig his fangs into his neck anytime. Ryota could already feel his blood being sucked away as it had during a blood test, but this would just be fatal.

Everything went dark. Then suddenly bright as he opened his eyes. He sat straight first, then thought about getting a glass of water at… two in the morning.

It was just moments before Ryota would think about how real the dream (nightmare) was as if it had happened for real in his past life.