Sorry about the other post, hope this I did this one right ;).
A Tarnish of Steel
Gene Hill
theoutervoid@...
Original fiction
Hayasuke, former member of the eight Shinsengumi squad
Rated - R
Some strong violence, frightening and disturbing thematic elements,
sexual situations and obscenities
This story is a work of original fiction by the author based upon
both historical personages and events (the Shinsengumi, the Battle of
Toba-Fushimi, ect) and folklore of the nation of Japan, as well as
the authors own idea's and experiences.
"Old eras do not die easily. Their death throes leave wounds
upon both those who killed it, and those who defended it. Wounds
that run deep."
"A Tarnish of Steel"
A Tale of Horror in some Twelve Parts
By
Gene Hill
The snows come lightly on this night. Light dust falling
from a dark sky. I walk and feel it fall on my head, the tingle of
cold on my skin and scalp. The flakes are large and slow. They
gather on the heavy sack I carry over my shoulder They cling to
trees and ground and cloth.
When I was young, I loved the snow. I would wait all autumn
just for the first falls to come, so that I could go out and play in
it. I would toss it above my head and run with all the exuberance of
youth. My feet and hands would be numb from hours in it, my mother
would chide me for not coming when called, saying my sniffles and
sneezes where what I deserved for not obeying her. My grandmother
would just shake her head, a slight smile on her face.
Sometimes at night I would sit outside with my grandmother
under the awnings and watch the flakes swirl in the garden. White
clusters to replace the white cherry blossoms. We would sip our tea,
and maybe nibble some little snack she had made. But we would never
talk. We would just watch. One night, I asked her where the snow
came from.
"Where does the snow come from Hayasuke? That is a very old
question indeed. I asked my father the same question when I was your
age."
"Did he know?"
"Oh yes dear."
"What did he tell you?!"
Excitement and anticipation filled my voice. The mystery was
about to be solved. Calmly my grandmother took another sip of tea.
No hurry. I felt as if I would burst from containing my eagerness.
She spoke softly.
"One night, after a great snowfall, we were walking home and
I asked him your question. He looked thoughtful for a second, and
then he told me to look in the sky and tell me what I saw. I looked
up and saw nothing but the stars. I didn't understand. He was
patient with me, as parents can be with children."
She took another sip of her tea.
"'The stars Yoki, don't you see', he said to me. The stars
are fires in the sky, and the snow is their ashes falling to earth."
I was puzzled.
"But grandmother, if the stars are fire, and the snows ash,
then why is it cold?"
She smiled.
"Another question that I asked. Because you see dear, the
stars aren't like regular fire that we have. Their special. The
stars are cold fire. And the snow is their cold ashes. Cold ashes,
from cold fire."
She stood up with the tea tray and went inside, leaving me to
look at the snow falling to the earth.
Just cold ashes from a cold fire, falling on the cold earth.
Cold...
Snow melts so easily in blood.
The memory is startling the way it appears. Last year was
it? Two? In the streets of Kyoto. He had to be barely half my age,
yet he had run at me with his blade. Ran at me in the snow. Without
thought, I cut him down and watched him bleed. Watched as the
steaming red blood melted the snow. The life left his eyes and
became cold.
Cold world. The cold world of a dead mans eyes. Blood in
the snow. Ashes of a cold fire. Dead mans eyes. Bloody snow. Cold
fire. Dead... Bloody... Cold...
I shake myself from the trance with a start. So vivid the
visions, the memories. Where am I?
In front of an inn. It's small and looks empty. Yet light
comes from within. Not totally empty. I walk up too the door and
call out.
"Hello? I want a room for the night! Anyone around?"
I hear movement from within. Slow and lazy. An older man
opens the door, holding a lantern.
"My, my, my. What are you doing out in this weather son?"
"Walking." I shuffle my feet impatiently. "Might I come
in? It's cold out here."
He steps aside to let me pass. I slip off my shoes and move
into the main chamber. A fires going in the pit, a pot simmering
over it, cushions gathered around. No one else here it seems. I
gently lower my sack.
"Its rather late son. You're lucky I'm a night owl;
otherwise I might not have heard you. Want a room you said?"
"A room and a hot meal if I can get it."
"What do you think the pot is?"
"How much?"
He names his price. I pay it, not caring to haggle. A wave
of hunger has come over me. He serves me my food, the rice still
hot. I eat in silence with the old man. He keeps stealing looks at
me though. I pretend not to notice. He pours us tea after we
finish, sitting around the fire. He clears his throat to speak.
"So friend, where do you come from?"
I stare into the fire as I answer his question, watching the
flames dance.
"Kyoto."
"Kyoto?! My, but you've walked quite a ways then haven't
you?" I shrug. He falls silent, staring into the flames with me
before he speaks again.
"You fought there?"
I nod my head in response.
"What was it like?"
My voice is a whisper.
"Hell."
We are quiet for a very long time after that.
* * * *
I ate breakfast with the old man in the morning before
starting out. The snow has stopped but the sky is still gray. The
path is growing slightly steeper now. Entering the mountains. I
remember my last words with the old man.
"Where are you planning on going?"
I point up the road I've been walking.
"Where ever this path takes me I guess. I really don't care."
His expression twisted into one of fear.
"You mustn't go that way. That way leads only to death."
"What do you mean?"
"That mountain is cursed with death. It's said that so much
blood has been shed there, the streams run red. What evil it truly
is up there, I can't tell you not, no one knows. The only people
that live up there are crazy or cursed or both. You mustn't go that
way."
I loop up the road which he tells me to avoid. It stretch's
off into the dead forest that covers the mountain. Dark and
uninviting. Perhaps the old man is right, there's a branching path
that leads away in another direction. I could take it and avoid
whatever superstition he's feeding me. Or at least a hard uphill
walk. But still...
I turn and smile for the first time in days.
"Sorry old man, I'll keep going this way. I've never been
one too take the easy way in life."
With that I started walking.
"Thanks for the food and the company!"
I wave over my shoulder, not looking back. He calls out
after me.
"You'll be sorry, trust me! You shouldn't go that way!"
He falls silent. I continue walking, not looking back. Then
I hear him faintly behind me again.
"May the gods watch over you!"
Gods. What gods in this cold world are there, but cold
statues?
I continue walking.