(Links to next chapters below)
(Continuation of Part 1. Bones meets a young man who believes he's innnocent...)
Majoumyaku!
Prologue (Last Part)
"Daddy?"
Bones jolted up from seat immediately hearing the soft voice of a little girl. His pupils focused a little as they drove by bright neon signs of small pubs.
The officer behind the steering wheel glanced back seeing movement. "Glad you're awake." He said, "We're almost there."
Bones inhaled deeply as he sat up and his joints cracked sickeningly as he cricked her neck and then his fingers, "Where are you taking me again?"
The second officer in the passenger seat chuckled a little cruelly, "To some guy who'll hopefully finish the job for us since you didn't get the death penalty."
The driving officer glared at his fellow co-worker before calmly answering the inmate, "He didn't give us a name but he wanted to meet you at some café here in the Alkonost."
Alkonost was one of those "last food and fuel for miles" towns but thanks to local galactic pirates and thieves it had been separated into two sections, one side was clean and family friendly with gas station, restaurants, and hotels and the other side was rundown and muddy with nothing but bars and pubs, liquor stories, and strip clubs. Passing by drunken bums passed out in alleys and seeing signs like the "Pink Purse" and "Ericoy Falls Bar" signaled that they were going through the unpleasant part of town.
But their destination looked out of place. The Myrrajapur Oasis was a café on the corner of Meni Road and Poxu Alley, between the road that separated the beer and whores from the fuel stops and all-you-can-eat-buffets. The café looking like the only bright spot of hope on the dark and dank side of town.
The driving officer pulled up in the small parking lot on the south side of the building, "Well here we are."
Bones waited patiently for the driver to slide the door open and scooted out the van. He landed wobbly on the ground, not quite awake yet until the smell of rank spilled beer and garbage filled his nostrils. Both him and the officer were amazed as they walked up to the decorated stained glass panel door and it was still in tact, not even a crack. Inside, everything was clean and in place; no loud, raucous laughter, no arguing and fighting, no naked lady sobbing in a corner; just soft clinking of glass and silverware and soft slow country music playing from behind the cashier.
"May I help you?" A young hostess asked walking up to them, menus in hand. She didn't seem at all frightened that there was a shackled inmate in the doorway with a personnel escort.
"Yes, someone made a call from here expecting Mr. Boneventura Jonesy Marshall," Bones winced after the officer finished announcing his whole name, "He didn't leave us a name but said he would be here waiting."
"Oi." A voice, masculine with a hint of feminine tone, called out from the back. The decorated ceiling lamps shined the brightest over the enclosed dining booths but the customer managed to stay out of sight, only allowing his right limb to be seen on the table edge from the second table in front of the last. He curled an index finger back and forth, "Just Mr. Marshall, please. This way."
Bones was beginning to wonder if the second officer was right. What if this was someone who wasn't satisfied with his verdict? What if this is one of the writers behind those threatening 'fan letters' and this was a set up to take care of him personally?
The officer patted his shoulder reassuringly. "I'll be right here at the door, Bones. If he tries anything, I'll come running." What he said didn't make him feel any better. The mysterious caller could be bigger than both men combined or have a second person with him or a 3. centix-head pumped up with enough of the drug to take on him and the officer.
He slowly walked aisle past other booths. His clanking cuffs woke up a drunken bum who was allowed to take a catnap inside and startled a young couple who were probably on their first date.
He reached the occupied booth and saw a young man in his early 20s, possibly even younger, sitting there wearing a navy blue hoodie, baggy chain black pants, and checkered sneakers. He wore the hood over his head hiding his face.
The young man greeted him, "Nice to finally meet, Mr. Marshall. Please take a seat."
Bones slid into the seat across from the young man, a little baffled at his appearance. "Just call me 'Bones', please son," he requested, "'Mr. Marshall' brings back memories. Bad ones."
"Would you like something to drink or eat? I will pay for your purchase," the young man said before sipping from his tea mug.
"Thanks for the offer. The stuff they call 'food' that they serve back in the pen has got my stomach hurtin'."" It was quiet after that. He watched the young man sip his hot tea after four minutes and more clinking of silverware and glasses.
The music faded almost into silence, then another different song: a slow love song that Bones with familiar with and it struck a nerve. He was already irritated that some kid had asked to speak with him but he tried to be calm when he asked, "So what do you want, kid? You doin' some kinda school project and wanna ask a hardened criminal what's it's like on the inside?"
His teacup nearly empty, the young man set it down on the saucer. " I hear anger in your tone, Bones," he said, "Does my presence threaten you?"
"Should I be threatened?" Bones asked, "You do speak a little proper than most young'uns today. That makes me worry a little."
"I may look young, but my mind is older than my body. I had to grow up quickly after a dramatic ordeal during my childhood," he replied.
Bones sat back in his chair. He had a little trouble relaxing, "Everyone's life is a sob story, kid. Whether if it's your life story or only a sub-plot, you're not the only one."
"I know that, and certain things can suddenly bring up those awful thoughts," The young man sat up straight. Bones could feel him making eye contact from his shadowed face. "Like this song. Is it upsetting you somehow?"
Bones opened his droopy eyes a little bit wider. "How can you can tell?" He asked.
The young man pointed at him as he explained, "Your hands are clenched into fists and if you weren't handcuffed, you'd have your arms crossed. I heard your ankle cuffs clinking when you pressed your ankles together, your voice got a little louder and your pitch slightly higher, and you looked at the radio when you said 'everyone's life is a sob story'."
Bones looked away from the cashier counter and saw that indeed he had his fists clenched rather tightly and his ankles were close together. Bones cleared his throat before he replied, "You got eagle-eyes there."
The young man smiled, "Observing kinesics is part of my job. Without observation and careful timing, I could never do my job properly."
"And what is your job exactly?" Bones asked, "Security guard? Court stenographer? If you are, never seen your face around"
The young man shook his head, "My job is a bit more exciting. I. . .take care of unwanted people."
Bones arched an eyebrow, "Unwanted people?"
"People who have no souls. No hearts. People who think that no one, not even the law, can touch them." The young man's hushed tone sounded fiendish, "Cheaters, betrayers, liars. Under my blade, they all pay."
The person's identity was clear to Bones now after he said that last quote. He was silent for a minute, his heart racing, before quietly saying, ". . .You're the infamous assassin."
The young man pulled his hood back revealing his short, black spiky hair, fierce brown eyes, and a navy blue mask that covered the lower half of his face with a small slit over where his mouth is.
"'Shizuka na Farukon' or in English, 'Silent Falcon'," He pulled down a little on the white scarf around his neck revealing a small golden pin, a falcon holding a long katana by the handle in his talons, "But I prefer to be called 'Hayato'."
Bones immediately went into offense mode. He tensed up, gritted his teeth, and quickly stood up. Hayato pushed his foot against the loosened sole table leg, shoving the table against Bones and forcing him back down in his seat, pinning him there. The skidding noise caught the officer's attention.
"Relax Bones," Hayato said calmly, "I'm not armed. I'm not here to kill you."
Bones struggled in the pin, grunting and growling, "You're not gonna get my guard down that easy, you bastard!"
Hayato kept his foot pushed at the table leg to keep the inmate in his place. "I do not have a grudge against you. I simply want to help you," he replied.
"Help me?!" Bones got a little loud, startling the few customers, "With what?"
"I've been following your case on the court news since your first trial. I have listen closely to testimonies, witnesses, and saw evidence that was found that put you behind bars." Hayato spoke solemnly, "The media, the judge, Figara," he had press firmer with his foot after mentioning Bones' wife's name, "They all said you are guilty, but I believe that you are innocent."
Bones stopped struggling and slunk back looking at the floor, "Well I don't think so. I'm a cold-hearted murderer, I-I. . .I killed my daughter. My sweet little girl. . ." He immediately held back his tears.
Hayato stared at the brooding shackled man in front of him, staying silent and listening to his words. "Guilt," he replied, "But not because of a crime committed."
Bones lifted his head back up, "What?"
"You do have guilt in you but you don't have the guilt of a man who committed cold-blooded murder. More like a man who believes so much that he is guilty, that he doesn't know what is true or false from that day," Hayato replied.
The young couple quickly scooted past the officer slowly as he slowly walked toward their table. "Everything okay, Bones?" he asked cautiously.
Hayato whispered rapidly, "As you know I have a big price on my head. If the officer sees me, it'll be all over; you will never find out the truth that you've mentally hidden behind all the lies. This is your last chance, Bones."
His eyes flicked around wondering if he did want to know what he had forgotten, what really happened to Maggie. It scared him to know the truth but he didn't want to drown in his sorrows for eternity. Bones shouted out to the officer, "Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine! Just. . .avoided an accident with hot tea. We're finishing up the conversation now."
The officer nodded and slowly backed off, not getting a chance to see Hayato's face. Bones relaxed a little and asked him, "So you know the real culprit of my daughter's murder?"
"Yes," Hayato replied with quiet confidence, "And rest assure, it is not you. I've seen your actions while you were on the accused stand. You were at attention, you never slouched, you never yawned or showed signs of restlessness. You acted more like a man trying to protect someone. Do you remember who?"
Bones struggled to think but he couldn't remember anything. All he could remember was their burning house, his wife screaming hysterically, and when the fire died down, a small charred body of a little girl.
Hayato interrupted his thoughts. "You're thinking too hard," he said, "You've hidden so much of truth that you now have hidden it behind a mental brick wall of lies. You have to destroy that wall, but spending the next 38 years of your life behind bars won't help."
Bones rubbed his head, a headache brewing in his head, "What do you propose? We just gonna walk out the front door?"
"Not exactly, but after I send in the paperwork you could be walking free, at least for just a few months." Hayato pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it, showing Bones a flyer, "Have you heard of the race that happens once every five years?"
"Oh yeah," Bones scratched his head as he studied over the flyer, "Mee-joo-myoo-ka?"
"That's 'Majoumyaku'."Hayato corrected him, saying it perfectly with his native tongue.
"The hell that means anyway?"
"It means 'Demon Veins'. There are many routes in the race like there are many veins that course through our bodies," Hayato explained, "It doesn't matter which one you take; the route to the right is as risky and treacherous as the route to the left."
Bones handed him the flyer back, "And what does a suicidal race have to do with me?"
"Hot humid air in your face, wind and dirt flowing through your hair, bombs and shells exploding around you," Hayato chuckled then went solemn again, "And possibly one of the paths to lead you to your daughter's true killer."
Bones listened with his head propped up on his folded hands, "Are you saying. . .you know who the killer is?"
"The killer and two 'assistants'." Hayato turned and saw Bones' eyes wide open, "And while you'll have to find the last two on your own, I can assure you that the killer will be participating in this race."
"Then why not tell me who it is?" Bones asked.
Hayato recited, "If the fox picks up your scent, you'll be the one outfoxed and empty-handed. The killer has eyes and ears everywhere. If he gets word that you are on his trail, he may drop out of the race and go into hiding. We must become the cunning foxes before we become howling wolves."
For so long Bones believed he had taken his child's life, now here was someone telling him different and everything he said seem to make sense. He felt a partial weight from his guilt lifting off his shoulder but all of it wouldn't go away until he found out his daughter's murderer.
"Alright, I'll join you in this crazy race but only until I found and taken care of the killer." Bones put his open hand out and Hayato shook it.
"Agreed!" he answered happily, "Welcome to Team Ketsueki!"
Bones blinked, "Team. . .Keet-soo-eck-kee? Where do you get all these names from?"
"Ketsueki is something you will see alot on our travels: blood," Hayato pulled the hood back over his head, "Now let's meet the rest of your teammates."
"We have teammates?" Bones relaxed now used to Hayato's company, "They any good?"
Hayato thumbed to the booth on his right, "They are going to be very useful in the race, but I wouldn't exactly call them good."
Both men were also wearing white prison jumpsuits but were completely different. A bald giant, possibly between six and half and seven feet tall and figure close to a champion bodybuilder, was diving into fish special plate eating nosily. The shorter awkward-looking man had sickly green skin and was so thin that Bones could see his ribs and joints. He was watching flies hovering overhead with his bulging eyes. When one was close enough, his tongue would zip out, leaving a blur, and the fly would be gone between his lips.
"I'm sure you already know these two infamous criminals," Hayato replied seeing Bones gawk at them, "Meet Henry 'Hideous' and 'Froggy' Williams."
3.centix-head: druggie dependant on the illegal drug, Centixple
[All characters are © Rai Pager.]
Part 1: http://www.writerscircle.biz/Contrib/Threads/5450.aspx
Part 2: http://www.writerscircle.biz/Contrib/Threads/5451.aspx
Part 3: http://www.writerscircle.biz/Contrib/Threads/5452.aspx
Part 4: http://www.writerscircle.biz/Contrib/Threads/5453.aspx
Part 5: http://www.writerscircle.biz/Contrib/Threads/5454.aspx