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Aragami

Page 12

by Scott Kinkade


  The band was having rehearsal at Trevor’s house in Guthrie. He had a family now but was still enthused with the idea of rocking out again.

  However, right before his eyes, clouds swarmed in from seemingly nowhere and blanketed the sky. The deep booming of thunder echoed in the distance, and lightning descended from every direction around him. What the hell? He had never, ever, seen a storm come that quickly. The only reason he wasn’t more surprised was due to the crazy things that had happened to him lately. Still, a freak thunderstorm like this wasn’t something people saw every day.

  A torrent of rain pummeled his car from above, and visibility pretty much disappeared. Despite his newfound confidence, he decided to play it safe and pull over. He called up the guys and told them he would be late.

  * * *

  The giant screen now only displayed clouds and lightning. Serika couldn’t see what was happening underneath. “Where is Martin now?”

  [He has stopped his car on the side of the road.]

  Trying to wait out the storm, are you? Well, thank again. “Create an F-5 tornado and throw it at him.”

  [Understood.]

  “You won’t escape,” she said.

  “That’s my line.”

  Serika whirled around. Mary stood about a hundred feet away, flanked on either side by Shinigami, one man and one woman. Only one word popped into Serika’s head: Shit. Nevertheless, she quickly gained her composure. Maybe there was still a way out of this. “I was just about to call you. Someone turned on the System and was using it to try and kill Martin.”

  “Enough,” Mary said. “We know it’s been you all along. We ID’d your aura from when you possessed Betty Sodatrino. If you were more experienced with possession, you would have known about that.”

  Serika sighed. Clearly, she hadn’t been fast enough in killing Martin. Still, if they thought she would give up now, they were even dumber than they looked. “Fine. I guess you caught me.”

  Mary pointed an accusing finger. “You’re twisted,” she said. “You’ve become an aragami.”

  “Don’t tell me you actually believe that myth,” Serika shot back.

  Mary replied, “All gods were myth at one time or another. The aragami is no different. I did a little digging; Martin was so piss-drunk during your funeral he never thanked you for your sacrifice. You’re a creature of pure hate.”

  Serika smiled grimly. “That much is true. I’m filled with hate. Hate for this world, hate for the Shinigami who let me die, hate for the fucker that killed me…”

  “And hate for Martin who inadvertently sent you out to die,” Mary added.

  The smile remained. “An interesting theory. But one I’ll save for when I’m face to face with him.”

  “Do you have any idea what you’re doing? The System is banned by treaty. Belial and his brother are looking for any excuse to start something, and you’ve just given it to them,” Mary said.

  “Not my concern, bitch.”

  Mary said to her fellow Shinigami, “Seize her.”

  The duo swooped in with handcuffs. They were fast.

  But not fast enough.

  In the blink of an eye, Serika conjured her scythe and cut them down with one fluid motion. They dropped to the floor like bags of idiotic potatoes. Blood drenched the floor where they lay.

  Serika admired her handiwork and said to Mary, “I’m a Level 2 in name only. In terms of actual skill, I’m much closer to your level.”

  Mary balled a fist and clenched her teeth. No doubt about it—she was pissed. “Don’t think you’ve accomplished anything. I’m taking you down and I’m shutting off the System.”

  She conjured her own scythe, a frosted silver affair. Serika always suspected she let her authority go to her head. Here was the proof.

  “I’m so scared,” Serika said. “Whatever will I do against the great Mary Rhodes?”

  Mary was all business now and had no comeback. She simply charged in, much faster than the two pissants she commanded. The silver scythe sliced through the air and Serika barely had time to duck before her head was taken off.

  But Mary had missed, and that gave Serika an opening. Mary was far too close to cut with a swinging attack, so Serika drove the metal body of her scythe into her enemy’s nose. She felt something break as Mary flew backwards.

  Serika pressed the offensive, leaping in with a downward slash. Mary managed to block it with the body of her scythe. For several tense moments, each struggled to overpower the other.

  Sensing the stalemate was going nowhere, Serika extended her leg and swept Mary’s. The blonde woman fell on her ass and the advantage was now Serika’s.

  Serika brought her blade down towards Mary’s sternum. But Mary rolled out of the way and Serika only hit the floor. Mary then followed up with an elbow to her enemy’s face. Serika was stunned, leaving her open, and Mary came in from behind, wrapping her arm around Serika’s throat. Serika dropped her scythe to focus on freeing herself from Mary’s chokehold.

  Serika began to lose consciousness. In a desperate move, she shifted her weight forward and tossed Mary over her shoulder. The latter fell to the ground and Serika leapt back to put some distance between them.

  Mary quickly returned to her feet. Serika looked at her scythe and realized it wasn’t enough to get the job done. With that in mind, she began to concentrate on it. Within moments another blade sprouted from the bottom of it and the thing resembled a deadly S.

  “Illegally modifying your scythe,” Mary said. “You’re just adding to the charges.”

  “Consider it a compliment. You’re so good I need it to beat you.”

  Serika began twirling the modified weapon above her head. Faster and faster it went until it was a blur. She then hurled it at Mary, the scythe slicing through the air like an out of control propeller. Within a fraction of a second it would cut her nemesis to pieces.

  Mary closed her eyes. She must have known the end was imminent; she had clearly accepted her fate. The scythe collided.

  But not with Mary. “What the—?” Serika said.

  Around Mary had formed a sphere that blocked the attack. It was frosted and resembled a snow globe that had been left in a freezer for a while. It emanated wisps of frozen air, and Serika noted it was now much colder in the room.

  Just as quickly as it appeared, it shattered into a hundred pieces. “Winter Shell,” Mary said. Her demeanor was every bit as cold as the technique she had just used.

  Serika tried to hide the fact she was actually impressed. “Tsk. Is that what you call that?”

  “Yes. That’s twice in one week it came in handy.”

  Realization dawned on Serika, and she had a new-found hatred for the blonde woman. “I get it now. You’re the one who’s been protecting Martin. You stopped his car and you used your Indō to shield him from the explosion.”

  She shrugged. “Someone had to, and it clearly wasn’t going to be you.”

  Serika ground her teeth, her anger rising to a boil.

  Mary began walking forward. “Give it up. You can’t beat me. If I see you try anything, I’ll just put up by Winter Shell again.”

  Suddenly Serika’s ire dropped. “Heh. Is that so?” One hand was behind her back, her fingers forming silent commands. Mary had no idea what was about to happen.

  Without warning, the blonde woman’s chest exploded. Blood spewed from her mouth, and she staggered forward, staring down at the blades from Serika’s scythe which had impaled her. She tried to yell out, but only a gurgling sound emerged.

  Serika wagged a reproachful finger. “You shouldn’t have told me that last part. Your Indō isn’t automatic; you need to consciously activate it.

  “My Indō isn’t as fancy as yours, just a little telekinesis. But it was enough, wasn’t it?” She let out a hearty laugh as Mary collapsed. “Don’t worry; it’s just a flesh wound.”

  Serika turned her attention back to the giant screen. “Aogami, tell the other Shinigami I’ve escaped into Yomi.”
/>
  [Affmirative.]

  Now Lord First’s troops would be looking in the wrong place, leaving her free to go to Earth. To Martin.

  “Where is Martin now?”

  [He is still waiting on the side of the road.]

  “Have you created the tornado?”

  [Affirmative. It is F-5.]

  “Good.” After everything that had happened, however, she didn’t expect Martin to be done in by a twister. He would most likely escape somehow. “Clear the weather over Jelsma Stadium in Guthrie. Oh, and prepare appropriate lighting for my arrival.”

  [Understood.]

  She smiled. It was time to end this. Personally.

  21

  Martin sat in his rental car, bored but otherwise fine. That, however, changed when the screech of the Civil Service Authority blared over the radio. “There is a tornado warning in effect for Logan County.” Okay, nothing to worry about, it’s probably not anywhere near me. Logan county’s a decent-sized place. “The tornado has been classified as an F-5 and has touched down near the Waterloo exit on I-35.”

  Oh, crap upon crap! It was then that he noticed a roar, kind of hard to hear over the sound of the rain beating down upon his car, but definitely getting closer. His heart rate skyrocketed and every muscle became antsy, desperately wanting to do something. His hands fidgeted about the steering wheel as his mind raced. In the event of a tornado you’re supposed to get in a ditch or something but I don’t know if there are any ditches around here so that only leaves one option which is to drive the hell out of here!

  He got back on the road and hauled ass as fast as he dared to in that downpour. Fear clawed at his sanity while he drove. Was he going fast enough? Too fast? Would the tornado catch up or would he wreck the car and die that way? Thunder rumbled in the distance as if to taunt him.

  Meanwhile, other motorists had the same idea. They were driving even crazier than him. One car side-swiped him, taking off his driver’s side mirror. He spared the briefest thought as to how the rental company would react before returning his thoughts to the far more serious matter of staying alive.

  He was now doing sixty, an outrageous speed in such a storm, but there was a mother-loving tornado somewhere behind.

  At least, he thought it was behind him. What if it was actually in front? He shook his head; such thoughts would only drive him mad. He just needed to focus on getting to Guthrie which was only a few miles ahead. No problem, right?

  A mile marker sign abruptly crashed against the windshield, cracking it into a kaleidoscope. The car swerved from side to side while he tried to regain control. “Shit!” He didn’t normally swear, but fuck it, it was justified.

  Not for the first time that week, he had a thought: Is this how I die?

  * * *

  As Serika had hoped, the Bureau corridors were mostly empty with the other Shinigami having gone out into Yomi to search for her. The few stragglers she encountered fell easily to her new scythe which she had swiftly re-conjured.

  She needed to get to Guthrie where she expected Martin to arrive any time, but first she returned to her office. She retrieved her orb and then wasted no more time getting out of there.

  * * *

  One could never die in Yomi because it was the afterlife. Thus, Mary wasn’t surprised when she regained consciousness. Damn Serika; she had to have known we would survive. She just didn’t care.

  Mary got to her feet and redirected energy to heal herself. She then went over to her subordinates who were still down and healed them. The male then asked her, “Where did Serika go?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know and she did something to Aogami so it won’t tell us. But I have an idea. Aogami.”

  [Yes, Mary-dono?]

  “Where is Martin McDonnell?”

  [He is approaching Guthrie.]

  Thankfully, Serika had not forbidden Aogami from revealing his location.

  “All right,” Mary said. “Now shut down the System.”

  [I cannot do that.]

  Mary sighed. “Fine. Grab your scythes. We’re going to take this thing apart.”

  * * *

  Martin approached Exit 153, the first exit into Guthrie on the city’s southern end. At least, he thought he was near it. With the chaotic maelstrom swirling and crashing all around him, it was hard to tell. Furthermore, like the proverbial Sword of Damacles, there was an F-5 tornado somewhere nearby, waiting to snatch him up. The terrifying part for him was not knowing where the hell it was, as if it was a monster in the dark. Tornados were supposed to be loud, but everything around him was loud. The cracked windshield didn’t help matters, either. Visibility could not have been worse.

  Martin McDonnell had been tense and absolutely wired for miles, his heartbeat never slowing down. His hands maintained a white-knuckle death grip on the wheel, sweat pooling around them. Every few seconds he thought he heard the roar of the tornado, but it might have just been his imagination. It took everything he had not to panic.

  He formed a mantra in his head and kept repeating it. Serika’s looking out for me. Serika’s looking out for me. Serika’s looking out for me. Serika’s looking out for me. Serika’s looking out for me. Serika’s looking out for me. Serika’s looking out for me. Serika’s looking out for me. It helped a little but not nearly enough.

  Eventually he saw the overhead sign for the exit, almost too late. He swerved wildly to get into the left lane and take the exit. If he missed it he would have had to take I-35 north and enter Guthrie via Exit 157 on the city’s east side, and that meant extra time on the dangerous interstate.

  He managed to take the exit and took the overpass onto Division. He felt relief wash over him; he didn’t think the tornado would follow him this far; it seemed like they didn’t often make it into this part of town.

  He drove on Division north through Guthrie. As he got closer to the heart of the small town, he saw more and more businesses. The rain continued but the storm wasn’t as loud now. His heartbeat finally slowed to under what he imagined was less than 150 beats per minute.

  He soon arrived in downtown Guthrie, a hub of antique stores, donut shops and the town’s only newspaper. He turned right onto Harris Avenue because Trevor’s house was on that street.

  He passed by Jelsma Stadium, the home of the Guthrie Bluejays, when suddenly the weather cleared. The sky directly above the small stadium was clear blue. But that wasn’t what got his attention. There was a heavenly column of pure white light beaming down onto the field. Something about it was calling out to him.

  The front gates were closed, but he somehow knew he had to get in there. Thus, he drove his battered car onto the sidewalk and parked it parallel to the red and white stone wall of the stadium. The wall was only about seven feet high, so he managed to clamber over it by using the car as a stepping stone.

  The wall was wet, however, and he slipped while getting over it, resulting in him falling off to the other side. He landed in the stands and received a sharp pain to his ribs. Nevertheless, he got up and gently made his way down the aisle to the field.

  Martin stood in the center of the field and stared up at the beautiful light which kept him transfixed. The spell was soon broken, though, by a rift opening up in sky. A figure emerged from it and floated down towards him.

  No.

  It wasn’t possible.

  His eyes focused on the unbelievable sight, his mouth agape. It was Serika. He didn’t know how, but she had reappeared before him and wore strange black garb. Her hair was in twin pig tails, a style he had never seen her adopt before. Other than that, it was definitely her.

  She gently floated to the ground and stood five feet in front of him. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn’t form any words.

  She was the one to break the silence. “Hello, Martin.” She smiled sweetly, the smile he remembered.

  “Serika.” The word escaped his mouth like winter’s breath.

  “I’m back.”

  Coherence returned
to him. He rushed over and they embraced one another. “Serika! I knew it! I knew you were looking out for me. You’ve been protecting me all this week.”

  “About that…” She held out her hand, and before his eyes a scythe appeared in it.”

  “What…?”

  “I have a confession to make,” she said. “I’ve been the one trying to kill you.”

  He backed away a few feet. “W-What do you mean?”

  The smile remained. “Just what I said. I’ve had a burning desire to end your life here on Earth.

  “No,” he said. “That’s not… you wouldn’t do that! You were the kindest person I ever met.” But his words to Betty flashed before him. I used to think she hated me for our fight that night.

  “It’s true,” Serika said. “I want you dead. Do you know why? You have to answer for what you did.”

  He hung his head low. He couldn’t look her in the eyes. “You hate me because I sent you out to die.”

  It was then that the smile disappeared. “That’s…” She took a step towards him. “The stupidest thing I ever heard.”

  “What?”

  She shook her head. “I could never hate you. You were the greatest thing to ever happen to me. You made me happy. Happier than I’ve ever been. I can’t live without you.”

  “But…” He tried to find the nicest way to put this. “You’re dead. You don’t live at all. I mean, aren’t you?”

  She explained, “There is another kind of life in Yomi. Most people like it, but I can’t stand it. I need someone to share it with, and who better than you?”

  It didn’t make sense to him. “That can’t be the only reason.”

  “It isn’t.” She reached into her robe thing and pulled out a glowing yellow-orange orb.

 

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