ISHII731

Ito and Inspector Tokugawa sat in the office of police commissioner Botan. They’d given him all their findings in a report detailing the podcasters picking up three women from Kabukicho and bringing them to a village. The report also detailed how they tracked down the captain of a yacht who dropped the party off on the shore of the island. When they questioned him, the captain said the Americans paid him twice the going rate to sit and wait for their return. He’d wait for an entire day before phoning them. They never answered and never returned.

Botan sat up squared in his seat holding the report. The sheet of paper appeared off-white in contrast to his even whiter gloves. Once he'd gone over it, he sat the report down and slid it back to them.

“And so, what are you proposing we do?”

“A search party,” Tokugawa said. “The island isn’t too big, but we know of the history surrounding that village."

“Could it really be the same place?"

“We’ve done the research; it's the same.

“You’re asking for more manpower?”

“Just to be safe."

“I don’t think I can spare any more men for this investigation.”

Ito raised a brow but kept silent.

“Sir? I believe we have ample enough evidence to warrant at least a search party.”

“You’ve never asked for backup before, inspector.”

“Will you lend the men or not, Botan?”

Ito looked over to Tokugawa. The bite in his tone would have resulted in automatic disciplinary action had it been any other officer. There was obviously some history between the men. The same history that got Ito fast-tracked to his uncle's side.

“No. I won’t.”

“And why not?”

“Well, I’ll be curt, we don’t think the matter is that important.”

“Excuse me,” Ito started. “But how can you say that, commissioner? These are people.”

Botan looked over and acknowledged Ito’s presence for the first time since the meeting started.

“They’re trouble-making Americans who picked up a trio of escorts from the red-light district. We’ve allocated the manpower, one of our top inspectors, no less,” he gestured to Tokugawa. “We’ve done all we’re willing to do in this matter.”

“It sounds as though you don’t care if they’re found at all…” Tokugawa said.

“My feelings are not relevant. If they are found, good! Another merit on your jacket, and the first for your nephew. If not…” Botan shrugged.

Tokugawa slanted his lips.

Botan thought for a moment, then looked at Ito.

“How’s the kid working out?”

Tokugawa gave a double-take to his nephew after the disjointed question.

“Ito?”

Botan nodded.

“He’s pulling his weight. Inexperienced, as we all once were, but shows promise.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“I’m sorry, commissioner, I’m not following.”

“You’ll be retiring in the next year or so, no?”

“I’ve thought about it…”

“I’ve given it thought, too. I plan on buying a little property over in Akita with the Mrs. Spend more time with my grandchildren. Have you any plans? I’m sure your wife would love to spend time with you more, also.”

“I’m sure you’re right, but clue me in on what you’re saying.”

“I’m saying at the ripe age of fifty, you and I need to focus more on retirement. We’ve stressed our bodies and minds enough over the years. Seen a lot. I won’t blame you if you come up with nothing on this. The fault won’t lie with you.”

Ito looked over to the inspector again. He’d never heard the commissioner talk like that.

“Teach the boy all you can while you’re here, though. The force will need someone as sharp and dedicated as you once you’re gone.”

The inspector rose from the table, grinding the seat across the carpet. Ito followed his lead and stood, too.

“Thank you for your time, commissioner.”

Botan sat back in his chair. “What will you do now?”

“We’re heading for the village.”

Botan shook his head with some admiration and hints of pity “Be well, inspector.”

They were now walking down the stairwell from the top floor. Ito could feel the determination in Tokugawa’s stride and wondered if it was due to the comments of his age. That couldn’t be it; the inspector didn’t let petty comments charge him. There was something else going on.

“I-inspector?” Ito called from behind.

Tokugawa kept up the pace. The basement was still five floors down.

They reached the bottom and approached an officer behind a counter encased with glass. Ito recalled this place, though he’d only visited for arms training and registration. This was the weapons locker.

“Ah, inspector!” The officer bowed.

He passed Tokugawa an extensive form with a visible thickness. Tokugawa passed the form on to Ito.

“Go on. You’re the pencil pusher here.”

Ito got started. At the top read “NPA-FAA” or National Police Agency Fire Arm Aquisition form. Below that was the simplest part; name, department, rank. Below that were inquiries of more detailed information; marital status, date of birth, address, and badge number.

He looked up to the inspector who was listening to the young officer babble on about some of the interesting cases he’d heard about. Ito knew the law, and Japan was iron-clad strict on their gun control. He knew this form wasn't for him. Only senior officers could go armed. The officer noticed Ito’s patient eyes and politely silenced himself, prompting Tokugawa to look over.

“I’ll need some information from you…”

They got down to the selection of arms. There were more melee weapons than actual firepower.

“Just skip over that,” Tokugawa said.

After Tokugawa’s fingerprint and signature, he returned the form to the young officer. He wouldn’t even review it and retrieved a case from under the counter. Tokugawa opened it. Inside sat what looked like the standard issue Nambu M60, an action revolver based on Smith & Wesson’s design, but there were a few modifications. The barrel, which would be 4", now appeared to be a little over 6". The cylinder was swapped out too. Ito could tell because the frame of the firearm was gunmetal, but the cylinder was black steel. This was probably done with the function of holding larger caliber rounds in mind. Lastly, there was no safety chain on the butt of the gun. It was the law that officers tether their firearm to a chain attached to the belt and butt of the arm. It was clear, gazing upon this Frankenstein of a revolver, meshed together by metallurgy and stannous properties, that whatever law had barred citizen and officer alike from the carrying of firearms, Tokugawa was above it.

“I didn’t see that one on the arms training list,” Ito said.

The inspector pulled a leather holster from the case and wrapped it around his back, securing it under his arm. The young officer held out the firearm, carefully holding it across both his hands. Tokugawa took the gun in hand and nestled it in the leather cradle.

“How many rounds would you like?”

“Two boxes.”

This exchange was also unregulated. There was a section on the form that asked for specifications of ammunition, twelve rounds being the max. The officer produced what the inspector had asked; two 12-count boxes of revolver ammo. Tokugawa placed the boxes in his coat pocket and looked up at Ito, who just stared.

Once inside the car, Tokugawa could no longer ignore the questions on Ito’s face

“What is it?”

“Why weren’t we granted any backup?”

“It’s not obvious to you?”

It was. What wasn’t obvious was...

“I’ve never seen you carry before. And an unregulated firearm, no less. Just what are you expecting to happen out there?”

Tokugawa sat back in his seat. Exhaled. “There are people who go to that place and never return. When this place is uttered, those involved perish.”

Ito’s face lay blank in the wake of that cryptic statement. “That sounds like the Suicide Forest. Is that village another location where people go to quit?”

“No. I think this is something entirely different.”

“How so?"

“The forest you speak of has indeed seen death at one’s own hands. But that’s it. In this village, dwells something dark and prays on the souls of men…”

Ito raised a brow. “Is any of that credible?”

“You’re fairly new, so I doubt you know of the Red Taped Files.”

The words rang a bell. The Red Taped Files was a famous rumor floating around the police academy, sparking the imaginations of young recruits with all manners of conspiracy. The files were said to contain police reports involving powerful politicians and evidence that could condemn them. But it was also supposed to have evidence of the Hibagon, the Japanese Big Foot.

“I’ve heard of it?”

“It’s real…”

Ito’s eyes shot open. “The Hibagon?”

Tokugawa looked over at his nephew, disappointment seeping into his face. Ito closed his mouth.

“The files are many, containing happenings that the government would rather keep hidden- among the files are several accounts from this village, one of which I was involved in.”

Ito’s muscles became tense as he watched the color drain from Tokugawa’s face.

“Years ago, I was selected to be among a group of officers planning a raid on a Yakuza drug trafficking operation taking place in that village. Equipped with the element of surprise, we stormed in, expecting to combat live men. What we found was the dead…”

A bead of sweat formed above Ito’s brow.

“A dozen men… armed, butchered. Ground up like meat with their bones intact in their bodies. None of the most feral beasts could have done that. When interviewing the villagers, none of them had anything to say. Nothing accept whispers of a serpent…”

The sweat broke and bled down Ito's face.”

“When we presented the evidence, the bodies, they sealed the entire case. Since then, anything leading to that island, the department outright ignores. If you thought the department cared little for the search of those Americans? They care even less now…”

Tokugawa turned to Ito whose mouth was almost agape.

“You can quit now, of course. I won’t hold it against you.”

Ito wiped his forehead and cleared his throat, steeling himself.

“I can’t let you go to a place like that alone. Though, I wish we could bend regulation and arm me with a gun, also"

“Let’s hope we don’t need it…”

Tokugawa started the car.

The yacht gracefully powered on, seemingly gliding across the surface of the ocean without bobbing or resistance. The captain called her. “Mrs.Trump”. This vessel was needed to travel across the sea and to the island because there were no commercial fairies or boats scheduled for that route. Ever. They couldn’t rent anything from the department either, leaving personal boats as their only option.

They contacted Haan, who at first, thought he would have to answer more questions again, and maybe even be arrested. Haan was of Japanese descent but operated out of America. He was a banking investor who almost doubled his fortune during the cryptocurrency boom.

Tokugawa stood at the helm while Captain Haan steered. He’d been cracking jokes, none of which hit home. Not even a grin.

“Man, I get you're all focused, and all that, but even monks had a sense of humor.”

Ito shuffled up the stairs to join them at the helm.

"Uncle! There's jetskis on the stern and a UTV in the hull!"

Haan smiled and shared in the rookie's excitement. Tokugawa was not impressed.

“How much longer?” The inspector asked.

“Fifteen more minutes.”

Tokugawa silenced himself again.

“Do you think they’re alive— those people?”

Tokugawa would not answer. Ito hoped they were. He’d hoped it was all just a fairy tale.

When they docked, Tokugawa told Haan to be back before nightfall as they didn’t want to spend a minute of darkness on the island. Haan understood.

They walked along a dirt road that seemingly was the only path through the forest. It was dense. Their gaze was stagnated by trees in the immediate vicinity. Even the road in front of them appeared to curve into a wall of wood and brush. It was the middle of the day, but they found themselves trekking deeper into the shadows. Ito looked upward and found the trees on either side of them had merged at the tops, almost forming a roof, blocking the sun.

“Inspector…”

“Hm?”

“If this place has a history of being so hazardous, why do we let it be?”

“You’re aware that our nation is filled with islands for sale. I’ve gathered that someone owns this very island we walk upon and has opted to keep the village undisturbed.”

“S-someone owns this island? Who?”

Tokugawa shook his head and brushed off the very same question that had plagued him. “I don’t know. Not even the Red-Taped Files has anything on it.”

When they emerged from the shadowy wood, They were greeted by an imposing structure. Tall, void of color, with traces of crimson dye rotting away like ancient fruit. A Torii Gate.

They were finally there- inside the village whose name became lost with the passing of time. The village twisted by war and ravaged by the elements, filled with mythology and first-hand accounts of violence. All this, and there were people…

Villagers. There were villagers there. Walking, sitting, carrying out their lives as if the folklore of their dwelling was not a malefic one. Ito stopped in his tracks to ensure that his eyes were working properly. At first, he’d thought that they were volunteers of some kind, cleaning and rebuilding. That thought would sooner be debunked as their clothes were worn to the threads and their tools were archaic. Tokugawa was also taken aback, but he sensed no hostility from them. In fact, he didn’t sense anything.

“I didn’t know that people still lived here.”

“I think I didn’t expect this, either. This is no place to live. How have they survived so long?”

“What now?”

“It would’ve been a lot easier to search with no one here…”

“We have to talk to them, don’t we?”

“Afraid so.”

Tokugawa cast a wide net of vision over the village. It seemed in all the years since he'd been there, nothing had changed. The houses were still in ruin. Debris scattered about posing obstacles in the road. And that feeling lying dormant in his chest...

“Stay in plain sight. If you find out something, come to me on the main road."

They parted ways.

Ito approached a woman sitting in the sliding doorway of a house, washing clothes in an old pail.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he started.

She would not acknowledge him and continued washing her garments with a hyper-like focus.

“Ma’am?”

He crouched down to her. She was older. Her face was dry, cracking around the eyes and mouth. Her clothes were old and looked like something worn from the last century. Ito looked into the pail. The water, if you could call it that anymore, was murky and polluted with muck, almost resembling ink. The process of cleansing the garments by such a means would never be complete, yet she scrubbed and scrubbed.

The inspector stood at the side of a man hammering broken storm shutters on a house. He’d called out to him several times and wasn’t given so much as a glance. So he sat and waited. He’d end up watching the man hammered away at a nail that’d been knocked off center long ago, and driven into the wood on its side. As he looked on, Tokugawa found nothing behind this man’s eyes, not even a twitch in his eyelid as the hammer clashed with the wood.

Unable to yield any coherent interaction from the woman, Ito ventured off into the houses. He walked across a worn wooden floor caked with dust and grime. In the middle of it all sat a fire pit where a kettle hung, propped up by steel rods. He covered his mouth and nose as an oder clawed its way into his lungs. The wood under the pit was charred at the ends. The kettle was used recently.

Tokugawa followed the main path cutting through the village and stood at the south exit. From there the path stretched back into the forest where a squall blew through the leaves, landing at Tokugawa’s feet. He stepped onto the path and into the forest.

Ito lifted the top of the kettle, flooding the house with a warm, putrid stench. His hand was no longer good, he needed the pit of his forearm to stave the smell off. The scent was like a rotting animal had exploded in the heat, leaving its fresh insides to cook in the sun. There were bones inside the kettle. Big ones. It looked like it’d belonged to some kind of cattle; a cow maybe. But when Ito sorted through the pile, he found the remains of carpal bones and phalanges!

His heart throbbed into his throat as he staggered backward.

Plunk!

Something dropped from the ceiling and into the kettle. He looked up and found a soaked mold-like spot above.

“No,” he whispered.

The spot was the size of a body...

Tokugawa reached the end of the path and stood at the mouth of a great cavern. A deep wailing blew out from the bowels of the hole. He switched on his flashlight and pointed it in the cavern. It was too deep. The light tapered off and eventually hit a wall of darkness. What he was able to see were tracks leading inward. He followed them.

His light wouldn’t reach too far in front of him, nor reach any walls of sides. This cavern was as wide as it was deep. He walked in a straight line, following the tracks laid before him. His footsteps dug into the gravel sending an echo out into the void. His light eventually revealed an object lying across the tracks. It was a rusty pickax. It was now apparent that he was inside an old mine. He was right in extending the search; there’s a strong possibility they could’ve come through there.

The deeper he ventured, the heavier the air got, and before he knew it, his head was light. Then his body. A HISSING jutted from the darkest corners. His legs were weak, unable to carry the weight of his body any longer…

It was just as Ito feared. There, staining the floor was a body- some of the parts probably in the kettle downstairs. He got a good look. This was one of the missing podcasters.

He hurried back down the stairs, missing and tripping over a few steps. When he reached the bottom, he found the woman with the pail standing in the doorway, her dark eyes fixed on him.

He approached her slowly.

“Ma’am, you’re under arrest for murder…”

He closed in, reached for the zip ties in his side pouch, and readied them in his hands. When he made it to her side, her neck SNAPPED in his direction. At that angle, he got a good look into her pupils, straight to the back of the eye. Light? A faint light glowed from the back of the head, casting a shadow on something. A serpent—

The woman swung the. pail at Ito’s head- he stepped back, barely evading the blunt edge of it. He inhaled. Exhaled. She trudged towards him in a threatening stance, pail tight in her grip. With no weapons to speak of, Ito would have to subdue her. She’s older, he thought. He’d take care not to overdo it.

Her lips curled to the base of her jagged fangs. Ito could see the red-stained incisors and the chunks of meat still caught in them. He’d wait for the next strike and grapple her.

Suddenly, the woman took the pail in both hands and lobbed its black contents through the air, crashing it onto Ito’s shirt!

“Shi—“

He hurriedly tried to wipe off the substance. The smell… He looked at his hands and brought them closer to his face, smelling them. There was a faint hint of something... Gasoline?

The sound of a struck match sliced across his ears. The woman was now holding a dancing flame in her hand. With no lag in action, Ito shed the shirt from his back, ripping the button from the cloth—

She tossed the match! The flame caught the residue on Ito’s pants, but he was quickly able to pat it out. Had his shirt been on…

He shifted his eyes on the woman again and found both her arms submerged in flames. For every step she took forward, Ito took back. Her breath quickened as the flames spread through her body, eventually swallowing her head. He looked on while the woman, totally blanketed in fire, shambled forward. Her silence finally broke in a guttural cry! The flames had eaten away at her unnaturally durable temperament, bringing her to her knees. He tore his eyes away from the sight and hurried out the door.

The sun had already begun its departure from the sky. It was time to go!

“Inspector!—”

When he looked around, he found the eyes of the villagers all glaring at him. There were more of them present now than their initial arrival, standing with the rigid stillness of mannequins. Ito didn't stay long and made haste to seek out the inspector. They'd have to regroup and sort through the many crimes that’d just transpired.

As Ito searched, popping his head into every house and calling out for the inspector, the eyes of the villagers followed him, watching his every move, but making no moves of their own. The more he searched, the quicker his actions got. It would be dark soon; only a slice of sun was left. By now, Haan was at the dock awaiting their arrival to return to the mainland. But Tokugawa was missing… And though the angst screamed from the base of his gut and dug into his heart, Ito would not leave his uncle behind.

The dark had fallen and the sun said its final goodbyes for the evening with the uncertain promise of returning, and the already shady wood had morphed into a black canvas, masking its greens.

Ito’s search had taken him to the mouth of a cavern. The night had almost matched the shade of black in the hole, making an almost seamless transition into the tunnel. He was reluctant to use his light; he’d lost the villagers somewhere around the south exit and was none too keen on giving away his position again.

Uncle, he thought. “Did you come this way?”

The light shined as far as it could inside before tapering off. He stayed on the tracks laid out before him so as not to lose his sense of direction. The mine was a large and hollowed chamber with black in every direction.

“Inspector?” He called out.

No reply. Only the sound of his voice echoed out and bounced back to his ears.

He kicked something on the ground and shined his light on it. A pickax. Next to it was a flashlight, the kind only distributed by the department. “Inspector!”

A groan echoed from deep within the black. Ito shined his light as far as it could stretch but found nothing. Then came the sounds of heels grinding against rocks and gravel, closing in on his position. He swung the light around, searching for the source. It was then he realized the steps could be coming from any direction— the mine was too vast and dark to pinpoint it.

The deep groan droned on, only this time, it was right in Ito’s ear! He clenched his teeth and swung the light behind him—

“Inspector!”

Tokugawa stumbled forward to Ito before collapsing in his arms. He looked cold, pale, and there was a great amount of sweat beaded on his face.

“Inspector… what happened to you?”

“I-I don’t… I…”

He was shaking in Ito’s arms.

"Inspector, something is going on with the villagers here. I was attacked earlier."

"I feared this would happen..."

"You knew this was possible?"

"That case I shared about the Yakuza sting, there's a reason why it's been red taped. The report said that animals had done it, but there was overwhelming evidence that pointed to something else. It was the villagers..."

As Ito helped Tokugawa to his feet, a sharp grinding met their ears. Ito, throwing Tokugawa’s arm over his shoulders to hold him upright, used his free hand to shine the light ahead of them. The light revealed the lower half of a man, just out of range. A rusty pickax dangled in his hand. The man’s eyes glowed dimly with an amber tent as if lanterns were burning in the back of his head.

“We should trade…” Tokugawa whispered.

He handed Ito the gun and took the light in his hands, careful not to lose sight of the villager.

The man projected a guttural cry and charged with the pickax arced above his head—

BOOM!

The entire mine lit up in a brilliant light before the black reclaimed the space. They couldn’t see him, but they heard the moisture of viscera trickling down whatever surface it had painted. They would find the body a few yards away off to the side.

“Nice shot…”

When they emerged from the mine, they found dozens of villagers waiting for them. Their dimly lit eyes contrasted with the ebony of night, giving an appearance of demon silhouettes.

“How much ammunition did you bring again?”

“Not enough for all of them.”

“So what now?”

Tokugawa adjusted his weight and leaned unto Ito more securely. “I don’t know. You’re the one steering this ship…”

Ito readied the gun, gazing out at the sea of menacing fireflies lodged in the heads of the homicidal. At least the glow made for a good target; all he had to do was aim for the light. But still, there wasn't enough ammo to survive even a single wave.

At that moment, a large growl bellowed out from behind the villagers.

“What now?” Tokugawa moaned.

As the growl grew closer, they found that it was no growl at all, but an engine! A light peaked and shined through the crowd. It was Haan! In a full-sized UTV, stampeding and launching the villagers in the air! He made it to the front and drifted next to the duo.

“C’mon, C’mon!” He said revving his engine.

Ito hastily secured the inspector in the back seat, then took his spot in the passenger side.

The villagers regrouped and collectively projected a guttural cry! Haan was stunned at the display.

“You want to go?” Ito politely suggested.

“Uh, Yeah!”

Haan punched the gas, clearing all the wood and brushes with the giant tires of the UTV, effectively putting distance between them and the village.