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Ranma 1/2: A Murder of Crows
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Akane Tendo sat alone in the shadowed room, staring at the walls as
she had for countless months since that fateful night. Time, for her, had
lost any semblance of meaning, with one hour blurring into the next in a
seemingly never-ending succession.
She couldn't cry anymore. Akane had tried, but the tears just
wouldn't come. Maybe she had cried them all out, she didn't know, nor care.
She was beyond caring anymore. There was indeed no justice in this world.
None at all.
The pain, the fear, it had all blended together into a numb,
soothing balm that muted all thought, all feeling. Akane couldn't bring
herself to feel anymore. In many ways, she was already dead.
The sound of the door banging open echoed throughout the room,
footsteps hammering out an off-beat cadence against the floor. She waited as
they grew closer. A strange sensation of acceptance washed over her as they
drew nearer. It was time. Soon, this would all end.
"Akane?" asked a gruff female voice. Akane sat in place, not
bothering to answer. "It's time." The barred door to her cell slid open with
a lound clang, two armed guards stepping in to the cramped space.
Akane stood, obligingly offering her wrists. The cold metal cuffs
locked around them, a chain wrapping around her waist while another kinked
to the cuffs around her ankles. Hobbled, her escorts roughly pushed her out
of the cell and into the brightly-lit hallway.
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Many of the others called this the longest walk, though to Akane it
seemed all too short. The green carpet stretched the length of the cold and
unfeeling hallway, flourescent lights reflecting of the white-painted
cinderblocks of the walls.
The carpet absorbed their footsteps as the grim procession marched
to the large door at the end. No words were spoken, muted footfalls and
rustling links of chain the only sounds in the otherwise total silence.
As they neared the end of the hall, the blissful numbness began to
burn away from Akane's mind, allowing emotions to once more return. A cold
lump of dread settled once more in the pit of her stomach as the fear
returned to sink its claws into her heart. She didn't want to die, not here,
not like this! For the first time in as long as she could remember, Akane
Tendo cried.
I didn't do it! she wailed to Kami-sama. I didn't do it! Why am I
being punished, I didn't do it! Terror-induced adrenaline poured into her
bloodstream as the march drew to a stop at the foot of the metal doors that
granted access into the chamber beyond...
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Akane's heart triphammered as her arms were strapped to the twin
protrusions jutting forth from the sides of the table. Her waist and legs
were next, effectively pinnning her down. Despite her fear, she couldn't
summon the strength to break free. Her muscles had become far too weak to
even put up a convincing struggle.
A long, rectangular piece of one-way glass stretched across the far
wall, granting Akane a reflected view of the room and her own wretched
state. Her hair was dull and limp, its former shine lost long ago. Her skin
was pale and flaccid, nearly hanging off her bones in some places from lack
of nutrition. Sallow cheeks highlighted her sunken eyes, eyes that now
showed true emotion for the first time in months.
A white coat filled her vision, just before she felt the small,
stinging pricks in her right arm. Nobody said a word as they went about
their task in the sterile death chamber, the rustling of fabric and beeping
of whatever machines present the only sounds.
The white coat vanished, giving Akane a view of the three tubes now
sticking out of her arm. This was it, then, the end of the road. The fear
began to fade, changing into a burning sense of anger. Whoever was
responsible for this, no matter who or how or why, she would see them pay.
Even if it took all of eternity!
"Do you have any last words?" a voice asked as a black microphone
was lowered to her lips.
"I'm sorry, Ranma." There was a universe of other statements in
those three words. She had failed, and now she was about to die for it. The
microphone left her field of vision, having recorded her final words on this
earth.
It hit her in a rush, a feeling of infinite peace and tranquility
that enveloped everything at once. Her fear, her anger, her pain, all of it
vanished in an instant before she shut her eyes to sleep.
The doctor present felt the young girl's arm for any sign of life, a
task he knew to be futile. She had taken her final breath not a minute
earlier, but he still needed to check, just in case. He shook his head,
feeling no pulse through her veins.
"Time of death: 12:01 a.m.," said one of the three men present.
"Let's get her out of here."
"Never thought I'd see someone so young on that table," the other
remarked as they set to remove the straps. "Makes me sick."
"C'mon, let's just get her ready," his companion replied. "The
family wants the body back for a proper ceremony."
"Y'know, I don't really think she did it..."
"Don't even say it, man," the other warned. "If you can't believe
the people brought in here are guilty, then you shouldn't even be here. She
did it, end of story."
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A black shape launched itself into the night from the roof of the
imperial prison, beginning the journey with its new passenger. It knew,
above all else, that this was not the end. It would return, as would the one
it carried. With a mournful caw, it vanished into the night.
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Three years later.....................
The crow sailed silently through the black air, wings seeking out
the currents of wind that would keep it aloft as it searched the river of
stone monuments below. Low, menacing clouds hung over the city, bringing the
promise of a violent storm. The crow, also, carried that same promise.
It swooped down lower, homing in on the one monument in the entire
expanse of earth it was destined for. The crow sliced the air as it streaked
toward the nondescript mound of carved rock, hurriedly flapping its wings to
slow its approach.
The crow's taloned feet gripped the smooth tip of the rounded stone
monument, and shrieked out its strident call into the still and silent
night. It remained perched atop the stone, keen eyes staring into the void
as the process began. It knew that it was violating one of the most sacred
orders of existence, an order older than mankind itself, but still it
pressed on. This had to be done, else the soul would have no peace.
The earth before the stone marker erupted in a shower of dirt and
rock, sending the crow back into the air with a series of loud and insistent
caws. A shaft of light lanced the darkness from the gaping hole, a dark
cloud rising up into the luminous beam. The crow lighted on a nearby branch,
watching the event with its cold gaze.
The cloud of ash coalesced into a vaguely human form, a tortured
scream burting forth from it. The ravages of time and fire were undone,
ashes condesing with moisture from the air to form bone. The crow watched as
muscle and sinew formed from what little ash was left, veins and arteries
growing forth like a twisted network of fleshy vines from the newly-reformed
heart. At last, flesh covered the grotesque form like a peach-colored
liquid, hair sprouting forth from the head and crotch. The light finally
faded, the reconstructed body landing in a crouch on the ground below.
Air filled Akane's lungs, oxygen racing to rejuvenated cells with
the breath of life. The sight greeting her eyes overwhelmed her, images
lancing her brain faster than she could grasp. She was alive, why did that
seem so strange? Where was she? Why was she here?
[Come, child.] The voice in her head pulled at her, urging her to
move her legs.
"Wh.... who....?" She couldn't remember, not even how to walk.
[You must hurry, Akane,] it insisted. [You must move.] Slowly,
awkardly, Akane rose to her feet. [Good. Follow me.] Her eyes locked on a
shape darker than the night as it flew over to a tree ahead of her. She took
a tentative step, one bare foot rustling the grass beneath it, then took
another.
Akane's legs gave out, toppling her to the hard ground. She
struggled to rise again, legs pushing at the dirt in an effort to raise her
up once more. The voice called again for her to hurry, that time was of the
essence as she pulled herself upright once again. The shape took flight once
more, stopping at a point farther ahead and waited for her to follow.
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The shape, which she finally recognized as a large crow, rested atop
one of the many markers in the cemetary, waiting for her to catch up. She
looked at the name, which she could see even in the darkness, and froze.
No, she thought, please no!
[It has to be this way, Akane.]
"I don't want to see, please don't let me see please!
[Remember.....]
The night vanished in a flash of crimson as a life once lived played
before her sight. She could see Ranma lying on the ground, her girl body
being ravaged by a group of men she had never seen before. She felt Ranma's
rage and shame at what they were doing to her, the helplessness as her limbs
stubbornly refused to move. Akane could feel the strange substance in
Ranma's blood as if it had been in her own, robbing the proud warriror of
her strength as those animals had their way with her.
The images became disjointed and jumbled, but the pain only grew.
The line between reality and dream became blurred, then vanishd altogether
as she screamed in tandem with Ranma. Finally, the shadow standing over her,
raising the dark, sinuous shape before bringing it down again and again.
She saw herself stumbling on what was left, a horribly mutilated
corpse that was all but unrecognizeable. The blood, oh, Kami-sama, the blood
was everywhere it covered the grass, her clothes, her hands, so much blood!
"NO MORE! PLEASE NO MORE!"
[Remember....]
The trial, the judges sitting at the bench, glaring down at her
while the prosecution produced exhibit after exhibit of eidence that pointed
at her, witnesses whom she had never seen before testifying at how much she
hit Ranma, how badly she treated him, how she belittled him. Physical
evidence, fingerprints, hair samples, footprints, everything set up against
her. The fear and despair of the verdict; guilty as charged. The judge's
stern faces as they sentenced the eighteen year old girl to death by lethal
injection...
The months in prison, the lump of cold dread eating away at her
sanity like a cancer, the days she went without eating, sleeping, just
staring, staring, staring...
Then the end. The life rushing out of her body as the chemicals came
in. Then.... silence.
The pain washed over Akane again and again in a merciless tide of
agony and torment as she lay on the ground, naked and shivering. Her legs
were curled up to her chest, arms wrapped around her torso as the flood of
tears soaked her face and the grass. Ranma had been murdered, but she had
died for it. The knowledge sent her into a new bout of crying and screaming.
[Take the pain,] the voice whispered, [use it to make you strong
again. The pain is your power.]
"Who are you?!"
[My kind have no names.]
Akane uncurled herself, the pain still wracking her very soul as she
rose again. The pain reached into her, grasping her rage as she felt a new
power surge through her. "I was dead. I know I was dead. Then you came."
[That's right. I have brought you here.]
"Why couldn't you let me rest?!"
[Because you can't, the pain won't let you.]
"So, you just let me suffer in this world instead of the next? Is
that it?"
[No, Akane. I brought you here to end your torment, to settle the
score, as you mortals put it.]
Akane paused for a moment as the memories returned. The faces of
those men stood out in her mind's eye, leering as they raped Ranma's girl
body over and over again. The hate grew, twisting with the agony as she
memorized every detail of their grinning, desipcable features.
[That's it. Let it grow, let it fuel you.]
"How long has it been?"
[By your mortal reckoning, three years have passed.]
"How am I gonna find them?"
[I will guide you. You will know what to do when the time comes.]
"But what about the last one?" Akane asked, recalling the shadowed
form that ended Ranma's life.
[They will lead you to the last one you seek. Now, let us go.]
"First, take me home. I want some clothes."
[Very well.]
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Akane stood in what had once been her bedroom, the shadows covering
her as she looked at her bed. Even the absence of light mattered not to her,
she could see perfectly.
She had wanted to look in on her father and sisters, just to see
their faces one last time, but something within prevented it. She knew,
almost on an instinctive level, that she must not let them see her. To do so
would cause only more heartache and grief, and they didn't need any more.
Akane walked over to her closet, surprised to find all her clothes
intact, almost as if they had been expecting her to come back. It was
ironic, really, now that she was indeed back.
Her hands reached into the row of hanging garments, selecting her
clothes for the hunt. Her fingers brushed against something smooth, almost
leathery, and a smile spread across her face.
She slid the short black dress down over her hips, glancing at her
reflection in the mirror. The material clung to her curves like a second
skin, stopping a long way above her knees. From the drawer, she pulled out a
pair of sheer black nylons, sliding them over her legs and connecting them
to the garter she wore beneath the dress. She had never told anyone about
these outfits, knowing that her fahter would have a fit and that Kasumi
would ask her to get rid of them.
Next came the boots, black leather stilletos that reached up to her
knees. She zipped the boots closed, then reached for the last article of
clothing.
The black leather jacket stopped at her waist, gleaming silver studs
resting on the shoulders. It had been a present from Ryoga, when he had come
back from London one time. She had kept it tucked away, secretly hoping for
an excuse to wear it.
Something was missing, however. Akane looked around, spotting her
old makeup kit on the dresser, and smiled again. She opened the plastic box,
fishing out the cosmetics she had kept for special occaisions and placing
them on the bed. Finally, she spotted the items she was searching for.
Akane covered her face with the white paint, spreading it evenly oer
her cheeks, her chin, and her forehead. She glanced at her reflection, and
grimaced. It still needed something....
Picking up the tube of black lipstick, she twisted the base until
enough of the black substance stuck out. She placed it to her eye, spreading
the dark makeup around it in a wide circle and filling it in. She did the
same to the other eye, drawing thick vertical lines through the center of
each circle of lipstick. She then turned her attention to her lips, painting
them with the lipstick and drawing a line extending to each side from her mouth.
Akane nodded in satisfaction at her death mask. Her face would be
the last thing those bastards would see, and she wanted it to be something
they would never forget, something that would haunt them even in the depths
of hell.
Akane replaced the makeup just as the first flash of lightning split
the night, followed by roaring thunder. She stepped up to the window,
staring out at the coming storm with a newfound sense of purpose. She would
find them, and make them pay. Every last one.
The lightning flashed again, illuminating Akane's face for a brief
moment before thunder once more rumbled throughout the sky. This night, she
would see justice done. She would have vengeance.
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Okay. this teaser was written mainly to the song "Burn", by The
Cure. Also, "Orion" by Metallica and "Everything You Want", by Vertical Horizon.
Questions? Comments? Love to hear em!
Jed