The First Stain

by Dakota Rayne et al.

  Inside, the hotel lobby was tastefully done with carpet and upholstered in a rich red velvet. The ceiling was three stories high, ornamented in gold coffering that curved into bulbous domes with intricate mosaic glass designs. Engaged columns embedded into the walls gave the structure a particularly sturdy feel to it.

  In the middle of the hotel lobby, under the light of a fine brass crystal chandelier, Dr. Lee sat on a circular couch. He casually sipped from a tea cup and nodded with a warm grin.

  “Well, well,” I said as we approached him. “As I live and breathe.”

  The group of Japanese soldiers that escorted me stopped walking. I continued forward to Dr. Lee as he continued his pleasant smile while taking another sip of his drink. He wore a fine double-breasted pinstripe blazer and vest with pleated trousers that were tailored down to a cuff. His two-toned classic oxford wingtips were polished and shone brightly.

  Next to Dr. Lee sat a woman wearing a red shimmering evening gown with a deep v-neck cut. Her beauty was a thing to behold, porcelain skin with eyes of jade. She wore her hair up high with elegant curls of shiny black. I could smell her sweetly scented perfume as I approached.

  In front of Dr. Lee and the beautiful woman, on the large Calcutta marble table, was the corpse of a young boy who had been eviscerated. Next to the body was a plate of what must have been the young boy’s insides.

  Dr. Lee brought the teacup away from his lips, wiping his thin mustache with a white napkin as he smiled at me. The napkin had a red stain on it. In his teacup was a thick, red liquid. They were drinking the boy’s blood.

  “Rufus, I trust your flight was well?” Dr. Lee adjusted his monocle.

  The corpse on the table stared into me, the boy’s dead eyes eliciting a voice in my head: Get out! Get out!

  Naturally, I took another step forward and lit my pipe. “The flights were shit. And you went dark on me. We have orders to fill stateside. Now just what gives, man? Are you backing out of our business arrangement?”

  “Do you see? He has no fear,” Dr. Lee’s companion said to him. She leaned forward, studying me like a cat might a mouse. “This is a perfect man to bear witness to our summoning. This is a man of action with no regret. A perfect man. He has come to watch our Awakening.”

  I turned to address the woman. Her beauty caused a moment of hesitation. “Do you talk about me as if I am not here?”

  Her jade eyes bored into me. She took a sip from her own teacup. I felt a tightness in my lungs. “You do not fear the death around you?” she asked.

  “I fear nothing. This is certainly not the first corpse I have seen. I have burned entire families and baked them into the towns I have built.” I looked down at the corpse. “But just what in the hell is going on here?”

  Dr. Lee put down his teacup next to the plate of gore and turned towards her. “Do you not recognize this man?”

  Her face dropped as she looked back at me. “This is the Nerve Syrup American! I knew he would come. I heard the song of his Shinigami just last night.”

  Dr. Lee nodded.

  “Yes, it is I, the Nerve Syrup American,” I mocked. “But I will not be a ‘nerve syrup anything’ for much longer if you don’t continue in the shipping of your supplies. And another thing, you are feeding these soldiers our product? They are all high as an air balloon. It is pure insanity outside.”

  “We have only given the syrup to those in our Order. The Order of the Golden Dawn,” the woman said. “A small subset of soldiers. The chosen ones who will summon the Shinigami and steal power from the dead.”

  “Excuse my inquiry, but just who the hell are you, and why do you keep talking such nonsense?”

  “This is Red Moon. High priestess of the Order of the Golden Dawn,” Dr. Lee answered.

  She nodded. “Your spirit is strong. You have had a powerful ghost following you for some time.”

  I held up my hand to silence her. “I will not pretend to understand what you are saying. Nor will I feign interest in your blathering.” I turned to Dr. Lee with an exhale that cooled my nerves. He continued to regard me with an inquisitive stare and pleasant smile. “Dr. Lee, we have a business to run. Now, it seems apparent to me that the Japanese government exercised the first right of refusal on their distribution rights, but what margin are you realizing? Perhaps we need to renegotiate our operating agreement?”

  “The matters of men and their money are so inconsequential,” Red Moon said.

  “And the matters of women doubly so!” I snapped back at her. “Especially those who dance on a corpse for attention. Now be a good girl and shut up while the men have a conversation.”

  She turned to Dr. Lee. “I knew he would come. And the timing is perfect! This is our medicine man. He is a Shaman. It is his economic formula that fueled us during this siege. His nerve syrup gave our soldiers the strength to do what must be done. It is him and his ghost who will give us our spiritual awakening.”

  “I am not particularly fond of being referenced in conversations as if I am not present,” I said. “This cryptic banter is growing boring, and you are clearly high on the syrup yourself, dear.” I took another step towards Dr. Lee. “None of this bodes well with me at all. Do you not wish to continue in your contractual obligations? Or do you wish to continue . . .” I looked around the room, the soldiers surrounding the exit, the corpse on the table in front of me, “doing whatever the hell it is that you are doing here in China.”

  Dr. Lee put his teacup down, it was empty now. “After tonight, I will resume our business arrangements.”

  I took a few puffs of my pipe in contemplation and sized him up. “At the same price contracts we have in place? With the same quantity?”

  He nodded. “Yes. And I will be increasing production. You will need you to expand your distribution network.”

  Yes. Now this was going the way I wanted. He just told a shark with an insatiable appetite to eat more fish. “By how much?” I asked.

  “However much I need to take over the world.”

  The Arsonist

  I spent the rest of the afternoon sleeping in a room Dr. Lee provided for me at the hotel. It was a dreamless sleep in a womb of euphoria. By far, the best sleep I ever had. I was assured that my business would grow. I got what I came for.

  The accommodations at the hotel were more than satisfactory, with a firm bed and hot shower. I had coffee and sandwiches after my nap. I trimmed my toenails. I stretched for twenty minutes and did a number of pushups. I even had a moment to give my mustache a good and proper wax. A soldier dropped off a suit, which fit me like a glove. Outside was the rape and murder of an entire city, but I had never felt so good in all my life.

  The nerve syrup would flow. That was all that mattered. Dr. Lee sought world domination, which meant more markets for me to expand into. I sat and mused with a tumbler of whiskey until a knock on my hotel room door beckoned me out of my chair. It was Dr. Lee.

  I followed him down the hallway and inquired further into our long-term strategy and just exactly what he was involved in. Dr. Lee indulged me, answering my questions with no lack of detail.

  The Order of the Golden Dawn was an international society; they had secret temples in countries around the world. Red Moon had founded the temple in Tokyo and vowed to fight the evil in this dimension by harnessing the powers of the afterlife, specifically demons. This is what they aimed to do tonight. Summon a demon, capture it, and harness its power by drinking its blood.

  In the lobby we found high priestess Red Moon with two warriors wearing feudal samurai armor. She wore the same shimmering red dress, and Dr. Lee also wore the same suit, but they both soon covered themselves with large black robes the samurai guards gave them. The samurai donned large cloaks over their armor. Red Moon and Dr. Lee put on masks that looked like Japanese demons. Both of the samurai already wore these fanged masks, their alert eyes the only sign they were actually alive; their stare pierced into me like a katana. The guards opened the door, and I followed Dr. Lee and R
ed Moon outside. The night’s air chill sent a shiver through me.

  The hotel was on a small hill with a large portico in front and steps on either side descending down to the ruined street. The elevated portico hosted a raised platform, looking over a large gathering of members of the Order of the Golden Dawn. If I had to hazard a guess, I would speculate a number of three hundred of them in total, all wearing robes and masks similar to what Dr. Lee and Red Moon wore.

  I felt like a piece on a chessboard and Dr. Lee and Red Moon were king and queen, respectively. The two heavily armored guards wearing the traditional samurai armor stood behind us. These knights seemed to possess a unique dexterity, similar to how a knight moves on a chessboard. Flanked to our sides were two machine guns turrets surrounded by sandbag towers. These were the rooks. I supposed that made me the bishop. The holy man. The shaman in the words of Red Moon.

  We stared out over a sea of our pawns.

  “This is the Order of the Golden Dawn,” Dr. Lee told me over the cheers of the soldiers. “Our meeting, you and I, was of no accident.”

  “Is that right,” I said with my pipe in my mouth. I continued looking over the soldiers—no, the cultists. Their numerous torches resembled a lake of fire.

  “Yes, that is right,” he said. “It was Red Moon who first found you. She has . . . powers.”

  Red Moon removed her mask and smiled at me. I did not smile back.

  Dr. Lee continued. “We sent spies to find you. I read about you in the American newspapers. The Aristocrat of Arizona, that was your nickname, no?”

  I nodded.

  “At first, we wanted to harvest your Shinigami, kill you when you moved to Colorado. But as I learned about your family and their nerve syrup industry, I saw a man of great success who came from great tragedy. A man who could build me an empire and give me the money I needed and perfect a strategy to administer the drug I synthesized. So I decided to come and meet you.”

  I turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

  “Notice how it was I who struck up our conversation at the symposium where we met?”

  I thought back on the event so many years ago and realized he was correct.

  “It was then I who suggested we go for dinner?”

  “Just what are you getting at?” I snapped. “And what is this business of you wanting to kill me. I thought you wanted me to help you rule the world?”

  “You have done a great service for our order. You have funded our endeavor and given us the medicine we needed for strength. But your true asset is your soul. It always has been. It is how Red Moon first found you. She heard the twisted ghost following you, your Shinigami.”

  “It is as if you have an army of them following you,” Red Moon said.

  Do you remember how I mentioned all assets are liabilities? I had no idea this applied to the spiritual realm as well.

  “Just what in the hell are you talking about? Don’t play coy with me. Come clean now before we go fisticuffs and you get your comeuppance. I don’t like any of this one bit.”

  Dr. Lee shook his head, fire glinting off the silver demon mask he wore. “No, Rufus. This is my endeavor. You were an integral part, but your value has expired.”

  “So, you think of me as a cog in your wheel? A mere pawn?” I turned square toward him, gritting my teeth. “We had a deal. You need me.”

  His even eyes stared into mine. “No, not anymore. I will take your product, your business, and implement it throughout the world.”

  It struck me then that this bastard was no different than Roosevelt in trying to take my business model and exploit it. The “company town” turned “company country.” Dr. Lee was taking it to a global scale.

  Dr. Lee said, “I think of you as a necessary sacrifice to further my own quest.”

  I took my pipe out of my mouth and pointed the end of it at him. “You listen here, Lee. If this is your idea of a joke, I am not finding it funny.” I put my pipe back in my mouth, took off my jacket and rolled up the sleeves of my cotton button down. “But if you want to go fisticuffs, I will fight you and this entire goddamned insane army of yours. I give you fair warning, good sir, I am an accomplished boxer. Let us have a go of it, like men. Marquess of Queensbeery Rules. You got my goat, alright, my dander right up in a fury!”

  I yearned for the Thompson machine gun I left in the room with Mungazi.

  Dr. Lee made a motion to the two samurai behind me. They grabbed me by my arms. I broke their grip with a quick turn and threw a right hook. My fist connected with the iron-plated facemask of a samurai, and I was sure I broke my hand. Still, in desperation, I continued my strikes. I screamed and yelled and kicked and cried out as the armored brutes overpowered me to the ground and bound my hands behind my back. The sea of pawns cheered as their bishop was turned a prisoner in front of them.

  Red Moon leaned down towards me, her eyes glistening in the fire’s light. “Now, we will harvest your Shinigami.”

  I could not believe what I was hearing. “Just what the hell is a Shinigami?” I spit blood from my mouth.

  She stood up. “Shinigami are spirits that shepherd our souls to the other side. Think of it as a type of grim reaper. A grim reaper that follows you your entire life.”

  “To put it in your terms,” Dr. Lee Chimed in. “They perform a spiritual due diligence of sorts on those they follow. Those that are most evil attract the strongest of the spirits.”

  “Your Shinigami is strong. Strongest this world has ever seen,” Red Moon said.

  “What atrocities have I committed? I have done nothing but build business.”

  Red Moon turned toward the crowd, a sea of pawns. “I don’t know, nor do I care, but it is your Shinigami who will lead us to world domination. You? You will die. When we kill you, it will come to harvest your soul. Instead, we will harvest it. The hunter will become the hunted. We will put the Shinigami’s blood in our nerve syrup and give it to our soldiers. They will become invincible.”

  “Yes.” Dr. Lee paced in front of me. “Our clan has committed unthinkable atrocities over the last week. Our own Shinigami have grown strong. We will harvest them and use their power, too. But yours? With yours we will rule the world.”

  Red Moon moved to the edge of the portico and looked down at the crowd, her voice sounding much deeper and not of her own, and in a strange language unlike anything I had ever heard. Dr. Lee stood frozen, enamored with the crazed woman. Me? I sat guarded by one of the Samurai, hands bound.

  “Bear witness to the crossover!” Red Moon raised her hands in the air, the loose sleeves of her robes revealing arms covered in traditional Japanese tattoos, the Oni mask she wore reflecting the fire around us. She began to sing.

  Hooded and robbed, the cult members chanted in a counter melody to Red Moon’s yelling. The death chant shared a madness, which hung in the air like a delusional fever. It gripped everyone within the large corridor of ruined buildings. With my hands still bound behind my back, I snapped my fingers in three’s. It was as if I knew this song. This was the melody of my madness. At least it was the same time signature, of this I am sure.

  A sea of torches lit the ravaged road. I felt more helpless than I ever have in my life. Amidst their chanting, a familiar voice spoke over my shoulder.

  “I brought your Thompson submachine gun and pistols.”

  “Mungazi!” I whispered, looking back at the voice. Mungazi was dressed as one of the samurai. Dr. Lee and Red Moon continued their attention towards their demented song. “You and your disguises, you beautiful bastard. A regular expert in deception you are. Here to break me out and save the day?”

  “What you say is correct.”

  I thought back to just a moment ago when the samurai had wrestled me down. “You are a scrappy ‘lil man, you know that? What was that, a Judo throw? But I assure you that one on one with a pair of boxing gloves, I would best you.”

  “Should we discuss our abilities in martial arts, or do you wish rescue?”

  “Fair enough
. What’s the plan, chap?”

  “I cut you free, and you drink a flask of your nerve syrup.”

  “What?” I whispered through the side of my mouth. “What would I want to do with that poison? Don’t you see what it has done to these fools?” I reflected back on the nation I poisoned back home. Had I created my own cult there?

  “Nerve syrup, never try?” Mungazi asked.

  “Why of course not. At least not this new batch that Dr. Lee makes. Last time I had any kind of amphetamine, I killed my parents and burned my house to the ground.” I blinked a few times in realization of what I had just said. “I was just fifteen years old.” I swallowed down the rising bile of emotion. That would have to wait.

  “Agent of destruction. Not creation as you think. But you were only a boy, now you are man. Redemption.”

  “Mungazi, what are you, my biographer? Break me out of here.”

  “I am student of not only human nature, but of the universe. We must fight fire with fire. To kill demon, you must become demon.”

  “Fight fire with fire.” I studied the river of torches. “An apt analogy, my good man.” I turned towards him. “But just how do you plan on breaking me out?”

  “Diversion.” He grunted. “Promise me, take syrup when cut loose. Become a demon to kill your demon.”

  “I get it, demons killing demons or whatever.” I turned forward, eyes on Dr. Lee who faced the frenzy of his minions and thought about taking the nerve syrup. “I suppose a good salesman believes in his product.”

  Detonations shook the ruins around us. Explosions of ivory phosphorus torched the cultists down in the crowd below. To this day, I take comfort in picturing their flesh burning down to bone. I venture that Mungazi’s explosions killed well over half of The Order of the Golden Dawn. He had rigged most of the area around the hotel with explosives. The world shook.

  The noise and trembling of the ground caused a storm of panic. The cultists closest to the stairs sprinted toward the hotel entrance. A perpetual whoosh of robes swirled around me like a violent storm playing with drapes.