Subject: [FFML] [SPAM + TEASER] I'm Ba-ack!!! (Sort-of)+ Akane The Vampire Slayer OAV 1
From: "Dave Menard" <ryouko74@otakumail.com>
Date: 5/6/2000, 8:56 AM
To: ffml@fanfic.com


Greetings and hallucinations! It is I, the writer formerly known as DaveCatt (Dave Menard) I'm back on-line (more-or-less) and happy to be here! I'm set to Vaction mode right now, though, so please reply privately for the time being.



   So that this won't be a complete waste of your time, I'm posting a teaser for the latest Akane The Vampire Slayer chapter below. I'm calling it an "OAV", since it's back continuity for my story. Hopefully, the whole shebang should be done shortly, and work proceeds apace on all other projects.



   Thanks and so long for now!



Dave Menard

Ryouko74@otakumail.com

***********************

Keeper of Pink's Hammer of Vengeance

Knight of the Combat Fiancees

Member of the Space Pirates Guild

http://www.angelfire.com/anime/spacepiratesguild/



Spa Fon!
-- Get your free email from http://www.otakumail.com powered by OutBlaze -- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar -- -- File: Atvsoav.txt AKANE THE VAMPIRE SLAYER/KYUUKETSUKI SATSUJINHAN'NIN AKANE OAV SPECIAL #1 "FALL" A Leaping Gnome Production of a Dave Menard Fanfiction WARNING: THIS PIECE IS EXTREMELY DARK!! I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH! IF YOU THOUGHT THE MAIN STORIES IN THIS SERIES WERE A BIT ON THE NASTY SIDE, YOU WON'T LIKE THIS. I DON'T LIKE IT, AND I WROTE IT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!!! Based on characters and situations created by Rumiko Takahashi and Joss Whedon. THE EVENTS IN THIS OAV TAKE PLACE BEFORE THE EVENTS RECORDED IN "AKANE THE VAMPIRE SLAYER PART ONE" ************************ Mousse of the Joketsuzoku carefully finished his preparations. The circle was painted, he had the ingredients he needed. All that was left was to cast the spell, seal the pact, and Shampoo would be his. He rubbed his arms through the sleeves of his robes, shivering in the cold mountain air that seeped in through the cracks and holes in his wooden hut. He'd found the scroll during his wanderings, almost by happenstance, on the shelves of a curio shop in Beijing. The scroll was written in an obscure dialect of Mandarin, with passages in Sezchuan and Cantonese as well as a smattering of English. Fortunately, he was quite good with languages, and had been ever since he was a child. The deciphering of the scroll had taken some time, but the end result would, he felt, be well worth it. His reading of the incantation led him to believe that the spell would summon a minor demon, one that would grant a wish to whomever performed the necessary rituals and sacrifices. He planned to wish for skill enough to prove his worth to Shampoo, to defeat the hated Saotome, to make Shampoo his by the only terms she would respect, her own. He had no intention of wishing for her love; That, he wanted to _earn_. He'd had the chance to have her by compulsion, and had turned it down. He wanted her heart, freely given. In reality, the spell breached a magical seal placed apon a demonic being, in no way minor, who had been sealed up for almost a century. Whether the being was under compulsion to grant a wish was a moot point, really, since Mousse didn't survive the being's manifestation. The creature that left the mountain cabin three nights later wore the shape of Mousse, but was no longer a rather simple-minded, obsessive soul with a talent for martial arts. In fact, the being had no soul at all... Mousse, for as long as he could remember, had loved Shampoo, with a depth and breadth of passion few would understand. It mattered little, in the end, if she returned that feeling. Mousse's love simply _was_, as constant as the mountains where he had been born, and as unchanging. Shampoo was the centre of his existence. For good or for ill, he loved her. Soulless creatures, however, know nothing of love. They know passion, to be sure, and lust, and desire, but not love. It was, however, enough. Enough to motivate the creature that had once been Mousse. And so Mu-Tsu the vampire went forth to seek his bride. ************************** The sun was setting in Nerima Japan, and the long night began. Lights were switched on and lanterns lit, as the residents of the borough settled in to enjoy the lazy June evening. It was that particularly nice time of year, where the nip of cool spring nights had been replaced with a comfortable warmth, and the oppressive heat of Japanese summer had yet to arrive. The last of the cherry blossoms had fallen weeks ago, and the hum of cicadas died out with the descent of night. In the small dormer above the Nekohanten Chinese Restaurant, Cologne and Shampoo settled in for the evening. Candles were lit, and the Elder's study was bathed in tones of buttery gold and chocolate brown. The ancient lit a well-tamped pipe and puffed contendedly. Her Great-Granddaughter curled contentedly in front of the television, flicking through the channels until she came across a programme subtitled into Cantonese. Not her native tongue, but one with which she had greater facility than with fiendishly-difficult Japanese. With a contented purr, she snuggled into her cushion and lost herself to the escapist fantasies, where the girl got the man she loved, and lived happily ever after. Since both women were warriors by birth and by nature, they both heard the key open the back door and familiar footsteps climbing the stairs. Neither reacted with any alarm, although the younger of the two rolled her eyes and sighed, She had hoped he'd finally gotten the message and left for good. No such luck, it would seem. To be honest, they could have been forgiven their inattention as they were two of the most powerful martial artists in the greater Tokyo area, and had little to fear at all, especially from Mousse. Shampoo readied herself for the inevitable glomp Mousse would deliver and her routine replusion of same, but was surprised when the tall young man merely nodded at her and proceeded into Cologne's study. She relaxed. Maybe he had finally wised up after all. He wasn't a BAD person, per se, and she looked back fondly on their childhood games. But she simply didn't love him, didn't feel anything towards him but the sort of reluctant filial affection one feels towards an obnoxious sibling. She cocked an ear, prepared for the raised voices and sounds of a wooden staff impacting against an equally wooden head that always accompanied any conversation between Mousse and her Great-Grandmother. In good order, she heard the clublike end of the gnarled staff strike hard flesh, and then, silence. Hmm. Perhaps Mousse was unconcious again, which meant that Cologne would require her help in removing the fool from her private chambers. Shampoo stood and stretched, working out the kinks she'd developed from being curled around her cushions. With a rueful grin, she let herself into Cologne's study. "Great-Grandmother need Shampoo's help moving stupid..." Her smile died and faded with her voice as she witnessed the tableaux of horror in the candlelit room. *********************** Cologne could have been forgiven for being unmindful of the danger that presented itself when Mu-Tsu entered her private chambers. She was, after all, easily his superior in the ancient art of Amazon Wu-Shu, and he had never presented her even the slightest problem in the past. She had briefly acknowledged his entrance with a grunt, and returned to her reading. Her danger sense barely managed to warn her in time as she spun on her stool, coming face to face with the boy she scornfully dismissed as "Mr. Part-time", both in reference to his employment schedule and his dedication to Martial Arts. He was very close, less than half a meter away, and he was... smirking at her? She had dealt with the boy's insolence towards his Matriarch before, so she proceeded to do what came naturally, and whack him upside the head with her staff. She grinned, aticipating the satisfiying thunk and groan of pain from the idiot male. It never connected. Mu-Tsu caught the staff in one hand and wrenched, disarming the old warrior and almost snapping her brittle wrist at the same time. Alarmed, she reached out with her ki-sense, to see how this previously-worthless male could suddenly have developed such amazing skill and strength. She attempted to read his aura, and found... Nothing. Nothing but a cold and empty void, blacker and chiller than the space between stars. Terrified, despite her awesome skill, she made to withdraw but was quickly pinned by what she first took to be chains of steel, Mousse's usual trademark. Instead, she found them to be ropy tendrils of cold, hard, metamorphic flesh. She opened her mouth to scream, but found it filled with more of the same vile substance. Frightened and helpless for the first time in almost ninety years, she looked into the eyes of the creature that held her, saw them flare with an evil light. She knew what he had become, oh Goddess, she knew, and she could do nothing, cocooned as she was without an ounce of leverage. Her overconfident dismissal of the boy had been her undoing. Mu-Tsu smiled, and the smile grew fangs... ******************* Shampoo screamed at the sight before her. Her Great- Grandmother hung limp in the arms of her childhood playmate, mortally wonded or dead, her life's blood smeared across his face. Mu-Tsu laughed, low and long. "Am I strong enough now? I hope so, since even Saotome can't beat-" He shook the tiny, limp body in his fist. "-this. Come to me, my darling Shampoo..." Shampoo's mind was frozen, caught between the twin imperatives of flight or fight. The thing that once was Mousse flung aside the drained husk of Cologne's body and stepped forward, arms outstretched. Shampoo's resolve broke. She ran. It was, in retropect, probably the wisest choice she could have made. One thought screamed like a banshee in her head: Find Ranma. Ranma will protect me. Ranma can save me. Ranma can _always_ chase the monsters away... She made it as far as the vacant lot two blocks from the Tendo Dojo when he caught up with her. He alit in front of her with monstrous grace, an fallen angel, beautiful and terrible in the darkness. "No, Shampoo. You mustn't run to _him_. You have me, now. Don't you see? This is all for you! Now I'm strong! The strongest one there is! Now we can be together, FOREVER!" Shampoo, despite what some thought, was not a stupid woman. Backward, sheltered, perhaps. Ignorant, certainly. But not stupid. Confonted with an opponent you cannot defeat, there are twin options: Honorable death in combat, or a strategic retreat to regain strength and seek out allies. Since she felt that she had something to live for, she opted for option two. Like a shot, she took off to the left, towards the fence that separated the lot from the housing development. In a dark flash, he was in front of her once more, blocking her escape. She dodged back the way she came, but he was behind her already. Frantic now, she swung out with a scissor-kick at his head, which he flowed around like water. A machine-gun barrage of punches flailed out and missed their target. She leapt high and flipped backwards, avoiding the streams of what might have been chains, but probably weren't, that shot towards her nimble frame from the sleeves of his robes. Inevitably, she began to tire as the combat drew into it's second hour. To her dismay, she had yet to land a single punch against the creature that wore Mousse's face, and every avenue of escape was blocked as soon as she made a dash for freedom. The neighbors, used to the all-hours combat of the martial artists in the borough, took little notice of the commotion except to cover their heads with pillows and hope that the inevitable final explosion would bypass their house. As such, no one heard her scream as a spiked tendril finally struck home, piercing her through her right shoulder and transfixing her. The vile appendage cut open a major artery, and blood fountained from the wound. She fell, clutching her maimed shoulder, her strength completely fled. The monster stalked foward, withdrawing the viciously barbed whatever-it-was, pulsing, back into his sleeve. "Do you see? Now, I'm strong! Now, I'm worthy! You are MINE now!! Mine, at LAST!!" Triumphantly, he lifted her high by the front of her shift, bringing them face to face. The sulphurous orbs of his eyes blazing in mingled triumph and lust. Shampoo could only look weakly into those orbs as she felt her life ebb. He had such beautiful blue eyes once, she thought madly, as she stared into the twin hellpits. With a shuddering breath, she gathered what little moisture that remained in her mouth and spat into the bestial face. "You may take Shampoo's life..." she ground out savagely through clenched teeth. "But you NEVER take Shampoo's heart!" She felt a crushing pain as her chest imploded under a terrible impact, then a bloody, fist-sized object was held up to eye level. "Really?" the demon snarled, and began to feed... ************************ Akane Tendou sat up straight in her bed, a horrible, knifelike cramping wracking her abdomen. Groaning, she found her feet and turned on her bedside lamp. Acting on instinct, she threw her comforter off her bed and examined the sheets. No blood. Must be PMS, then. Wincing, she made her way downstairs to the bathroom and got herself some Midol and change her pad. ************************* It was almost a week before anyone suspected that something was wrong. With the exception of Ukyou, who was in Kansai visiting family, all of Ranma's ever-persistant suitors and suitorettes were not only missing, but unaccounted for. The Kunos had been absent from school for four days in a row without a word to anyone, and the Nekohanten bore a neatly- lettered sign announcing that the establishment was closed for renovations and the owners were on vacation in China. So it was a relaxed and tranquil Tendou household that night. Or at least, things were as tranquil as they ever got. Akane and Ranma were fighting like cats and dogs, the youngest Tendou's already short fuse shortened even further by painful recurring cramps and crass remarks from her iinazuke. Kasumi had just served dinner, and the family was setting to with their usual gusto. Insults and imprecations flowed like water between the unhappy couple, tears and solemn oaths from the fathers, sarcastic banter from Nabiki, and cheerful pleasantries from the mistress of the house, Kasumi. Even the loathesome presence of Happousai was tolerated this night, since he was installed in front of the television with a bowl of soba and a two-hour bathing-beauties special to watch. It was after dinner, while Soun and Genma were enjoying their after-dinner tobacco fixes over a game of shogi and some warm sake, that disaster struck.
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