by Peter Fang
Elise was dumbfounded. “You have got to be kidding me.”
The master was stoic. “I never kid around. I know more about you than you know. I know why you are here. I will give the information to you, but you have to beat me in Kendo.”
“I don’t know Kendo,” Elise replied. “But if you insist—”
“Please––I have everything you are here for.” The master’s face showed no hint of humor.
“You want me to fight you?”
“Not me, him.” The master pointed at student next to him. A tall, slender figure stood up. He was half a foot taller than the master. His movements were stiff but in a precise, masterful way.
Elise went into the changing room and put on the Kendo armor and suit. Through the mask, she re-oriented herself and faced the tall student. He was standing about five feet away from her, standing ready with his bamboo sword in an attack stance.
The first attack came from nowhere; the bamboo sword hit Elise's hand so hard that she dropped her Kendo sword. The sting was painful, but she picked up the sword and readied herself for the next attack.
The master walked over and pointed his sword at her. “I know that you have a photographic memory, so let me teach you the basic techniques.”
He showed Elise the basic attack and counterattack movements. “You have to just score a point on him, and I will speak to you what you need to know.”
“This is the weirdest recruiting technique you guys came up with? Okay, fine, let’s do this.”
The second time, Elise raised her sword overhead and then slowly lowered the tip. Then in a split second, she lunged forward and tried to tap the student’s helmet with the sword’s tip, but the student moved sideways and simultaneously slashed his sword towards her helmet. Elise felt a strong hit against her helmet and felt dizzy.
“You are not taking this seriously!” the master’s voice boomed in discontent.
“I don’t have to do this.” Elise stopped and tried to pull the helmet off, but it was very tight. “Hey, I can’t take my helmet off.” She tried to force the helmet off with both of her arms, but the neck liner tightened. “What the hell is going on?” She started to choke and cough.
“Clear out your mind, or you will choke to death. The more you resist, the more painful it will be. Why do you fight it if you know you can’t win?”
“What?” Elise gasped for air as he continued to cough.
“I said, why do you fight if you know you can’t win?” the master repeated himself.
“I will find a way to win. I always do,” Elise replied.
“You can beat him if you treat this like a life or death situation.”
“Life or death?” Elise looked up and saw the student was holding a real Katana sword this time.
“What the hell is this?” Elise yelled. She backed away towards the front door but heard a lock click, and the window blinds were blocking the outside view. She was trapped inside the dojo.
The master asked, “Are you going to fight, or are you going to give up?”
Elise posted in a defensive stand and waited. Her opponent lunged in a piercing move towards her neck using the basic Shikake Waza technique. Elise saw it coming this time and knocked the incoming sword sideways with her own and then counter-attacked the student. The student quickly guarded the movement with a hard push with his sword. He pushed the tip of the sword into the bamboo gaps and sliced it through with a clean movement. The ropes that held the bamboos together were sliced clean, and the bamboo sword flailed open.
“You were better this time, but I scored a point on you.” Master pointed at her chest.
Elise looked down and saw a slice down her chest about a foot. The cut barely touched her skin and she felt the sting from the wound.
“You guys are trying to murder me?”
Master shook his head. “On the contrary, I want to give you a chance to reclaim what was yours.”
“And what is that?”
“You wake up every night from the nightmare, don’t you? Kizu?”
“How did you know my nickname!” Elise snapped. “Let me guess, Riker hired you because he couldn’t get into my pants?”
“How could I not know? You tell the story every moment you’re asleep…I hear your screams…” The man’s voice trailed off with a sigh.
“Who are you? You freak! You bugged my place?”
“No––we are connected. You should have felt it when you first stepped in. Something felt familiar to you, didn’t it?”
“I don’t know what you are trying to do here, but I’m leaving.” Elise threw down her stick and pulled down her mask.
“Perhaps this will give you some motivation?” The master moved to the tall opponent and pulled his mask off.
Elise saw the man’s face and fell back. She heard herself scream, but her mind was fixed on the tall man standing in front of her, the person she most despised—her dad.
“This is not possible. He is dead. I killed him.”
Elise then realized something wasn’t even right. The man standing in front of her was someone much younger than her dad. Her father would have been in his seventies now if he were still alive, but the man standing in front of her was in his forties––the same age in her nightmares. Nevertheless, he looked exactly like the person that she dreamed about every night. It was the man that tortured her decades ago and continued to this day in her dreams.
“This is one of your mind tricks. I saw him die by my hand. I saw him die with my own eyes!” Elise screamed.
The tall man raised his sword and stepped forward. He took his gloves off and then held the Katana in a squat stance; the sword’s spine lay parallel against his arms with the tip pointing at Elise. He rapidly moved forward and in the last moment swung his blade forward and tried to cut Elise's arm. Elise guarded her arm with the splintered bamboo sword and used the bamboo to push the blade down into the ground. The man pulled the sword back and pushed his arm forward in a thrusting motion. Elise didn’t have time to think; she reacted by rolling her body sideways to let the blade miss and then grabbed the blade with her glove to secure it against the side of her body. She then moved forward, stabbing her splintered bamboo sword into the tall man’s neck. The tall man doubled back and dropped his sword. He held his hand next to his neck as dark blood poured out of his mouth. The man stared at Elise absently. The stare chilled Elise; it was those eyes that always gave her the nightmares. The tall man stumbled forward and collapsed onto the mat.
Elise turned and ran towards the door, but her father’s corpse suddenly stood up with his arms extended out and the fingernails lodged into Elise's left shoulder blade. Elise felt a deep, numbing sensation spread across her shoulders, neck and down her entire body. She tried to run faster but her legs were slowing down until she couldn’t control her leg muscles. Her vision blurred and she blacked out.
“My Queen, is she the one?” Manfred asked while taking his mask off from the Kendo suit.
At a distance away, the queen replied with a hiss, “She is strong, resourceful, with the temperament and raw talent liken to myself when I was human—she may be the choice, but the weakness is obvious, and she is a damaged good that will waste a lot of my energy to heal. Bring her sister Maria to me, so I can choose.”
Elise didn’t remember how she fell asleep, but when she woke up, she was in her bed. For a split second, she saw an image of a dojo in her mind, and she was wearing a Kendo suit, but the memory slipped away as she tried to recall more details. She tried to sit up, but she felt sore all over her body. An itch on her forearm was bothering her so she pulled the sleeve up. There was a streak of dried blood smeared across the burn scar. Where was this from? Elise flipped through her photographic memory, but there was nothing. She wiped her nose to see if it was from a nosebleed. She then felt a dull, burning sensation on her left shoulder. She went to the bathroom and took a mirror and found the source. There was a scab that looked like a bug bite.
“Damn, when
did I get this?” Elise tapped it with her fingernail. The scab was still painful to the touch and brought back flashbacks. The image of her dad walking towards her made her panic. She pushed her legs and shrank into the corner of her bed; then for a brief moment, she saw a flash of her lost sister’s face with those dark, questioning eyes. Elise didn’t want to dig up her old memories, but this time she couldn’t prevent it. Her sister’s eyes were staring back at her. Elise closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around her knees in a fetal position, but she still could not shake the images from her mind.
Finally broken, Elise started to uncontrollably sob.
Part II
Queen’s Servitude
Servants, or slaves?
8
Dormant Claws
Once he knew what he was looking for, Manfred traced the scent and arrived at Maria’s apartment. Like many previous outings, he cast a spell to himself to appear normal except when he checked himself in the mirror—spells could not cover up your true form in the mirror. He wore dark hair and sported casual khaki pants and a crew shirt to cover up his deteriorating body. He reached the apartment complex where Maria lived but paused across the street to observe the tenants going in and out of the complex. It wasn’t too hard to bypass the security system by tailgating someone entering the complex.
Once inside the apartment complex, he sniffed the air to search for Maria’s location. It was a rare sunny day, and most of the folks were out and about. He looked around and saw no security camera around, so he moved swiftly up the stairs and stopped outside the apartment where Maria lived. He walked up next to the door and then reached out with his long fingernail and pulled a long tooth out of his mouth. The tooth dripped with blood and as he dropped the tooth, it anchored itself into the floor and burrowed into the ground until a needle-like root about an inch left above the ground. Manfred looked around to make sure no one saw him, and then he leaped over the railing and jumped down from the fifth floor and landed quietly in the lobby. He needed to visit the second blood child. Manfred was told to finish the job in one day. Luckily, the other blood child was not too far away.
Maria came back from grocery shopping that afternoon. She got to the apartment’s front door and fumbled for her key. She propped her bag up on her knee and searched her hand inside the large tote bag, swearing that next time she would get a different bag. One with a lighter interior color so nothing would disappear from her again. She landed her left foot on the ground and felt a poke on the bottom of her sole. A swift dizziness washed over her, so she knelt down and held her head until it stopped. From the corners of her memory, an image of an antique shop emerged. The shop had a familiar shape, and she felt a surge of desire coming from inside the shop. She couldn’t explain why, but she suddenly had a craving to visit the place.
When Ansen came back from his work, Maria was already ready to go. She stopped Ansen from asking but only begged him to come with her.
Maria and Ansen enjoyed visiting antique shops. They loved the challenge of discovering unique items that you couldn’t find anywhere else. They were drawn to the allure of finding a piece of history that was long forgotten; yet by owning the antique, there was a sense of connection with that treasured and buried past. Maria believed that every piece she bought kept her grounded by connecting her to a piece of human history. It was a way to escape from the digital world she lived in. Her boyfriend, Ansen, initially only tolerated the antique shopping experience. Shopping was bad enough for Ansen, but antique shopping? Maria understood that most people wouldn’t understand the allure of antique hunting, so when Ansen was happy to oblige, she was elated. Most recently, Ansen seemed very patient with her, and Maria liked to think that it was her influence that made Ansen change his view about her hobbies.
Down near Chinatown, Maria and Ansen strolled by an alley on a warm summer afternoon. They came across a small antique shop. It was so hidden that Maria and Ansen were surprised there was even a shop in the narrow alley. Away from the busy main street, this quiet alley was almost a forgotten passage. Several pigeons were cooing near garbage dump, but there was no one inside the actual alley.
“Can you believe this? We must have passed this area countless times, but we’ve never seen this shop.” Ansen peeked his head over the corner and saw a freshly painted red sign that simply read Antiques.
“I don’t remember this was here before; perhaps it’s a new shop?” Maria felt a tingle on her skin as she contemplated the possibility. If the shop had just opened, they would get the benefit of being the first customers, which meant they would get the first dibs on all of the goodies.
“Want to go take a look?” Maria nudged Ansen.
“Well, if you can hold on to your hunger for half an hour, we can go in for a peek. But my gut tells me that there’s nothing interesting in there.”
“Come on, our reservation is still half hour away. Let’s go in and take a peek. It takes only ten minutes for me to know if it’s worth staying. We can leave if there’s nothing interesting.”
“Okay,” Ansen said reluctantly. “But I’m pretty hungry, so let’s do this quick.”
The two walked near the top of the staircase and looked down at the entrance. It didn't look inviting, but it was clean and there was no sign of neglect. They could even hear a faint melody coming out of the shop below.
“Let me go down there and take a look first, since I’m the paranoid one.” Ansen let go of Maria’s hand and made his way down the stairs. There was a cold draft when he reached the entrance. He tried the door, but the door was locked.
“Hello? Anyone there?” Ansen gently knocked on the door. There was music playing inside the shop––a female vocalist accompanied by a familiar tune. The music reminded Ansen of a 1950’s period piece.
“No one home?” Maria measured her steps carefully down the stairs. “Chilly down here, isn’t it?”
“I can hear the music inside, but the door is locked.” Ansen twisted the door handle again, but the door wouldn’t budge.
“Can you see if there’s anything interesting?” Maria was always the more inquisitive one.
“Perhaps, but you have to see it from my side.”
Maria stood next to Ansen and tiptoed over his shoulder for a glimpse. The space down at the bottom of the staircase was quite small, barely able to hold two people.
“I see a few random items. There is an old typewriter, perhaps a Corona, an old telephone, a record player. There’s something interesting-looking at the far side of the room. Can’t quite make out what it is, though. Looks almost like an old sewing machine. Singer, perhaps? Can’t tell from here.”
“Looks like there is a back room, but I can’t see more.”
As Ansen and Maria unconsciously leaned their faces ever closer to the small door window, an old man's face suddenly appeared next to the window on the other side.
“Holy shit!” Ansen stepped back, almost knocking Maria off her feet.
A gruff old man’s voice slowly came from the other side of the door. “I’m closed.”
“Sorry, we are not trying to bother you,” Maria spoke over Ansen's shoulder.
The old man’s voice was heavy with an unfamiliar accent. “No bother at all. Now, please excuse me.”
Maria grabbed Ansen's arm and hurried up the stairs. The crammed stairwell gave Maria a claustrophobic feeling, and she wanted to get out of there right away.
“This place is not scaring you, is it?” Ansen chuckled.
“Nope. I just don’t like the cramped space.” Maria started walking up the stairs without waiting for Ansen. He quickly followed.
After they made it back up the stairs, Ansen reached out for Maria’s hand. “Are we still coming back here later?”
Maria winced. “Depends on how good the lunch is. If it’s good, I’ll be in the mood to come back, and so will you.”
Back in the antique shop, Manfred looked out his window and watched the young couple meander up the winding stairway. The queen
was getting relentless lately pushing him to look for the blood child. She was awake again this week, and she was more demanding than usual. Now Manfred knew why––the other blood child was finally here. He strolled towards the back of the shop and sat down next to the queen. The machine had very intricate designs all around the wood frame, and it appeared to be a one-of-a-kind piece. The queen could cloak into different forms, but she was most fond of the sewing machine. The sewing machine gave her some mobilities, and it secured the golden box neatly under the machine’s belly, where the queen lived.
Next to the her, Manfred felt the familiar thoughts in his head with Queen’s whispers. Soon, the thoughts became conversations. The words were soothing and terrifying––a mixture of demands and cajolement. It was getting louder, and it drowned out the rest of his thoughts. Manfred knew his time as the queen’s keeper was almost up, yet he could not simply walk away––she wouldn’t let him.
“Get the sign out, and call in our infected and proxies to make it look real. We need to lure Maria into the shop, or the spell on her won’t work,” the queen demanded Manfred to move.
Manfred sighed, then stood up swiftly and went to the front door. He flipped the closed sign around; then he brought out a large sign stand and scribbled something with a red marker. He took the sign with him and ran outside the shop. One leap, and he cleared the staircase.
Deep inside the golden box, a thirsty consciousness awaited for Maria.
In a local diner, Ansen and Maria were still talking about the antique shop.
“I can’t wait to see what’s inside that little shop.”
“I hope he is not a psychopath––he sure sounded like one.” Ansen arched his brows at Maria.
Maria made a disgusted look. “Yeah, and you will be there to protect me, right?” She was referring to the cat attack incidence that nearly put her in the hospital––a month ago, Maria went to their apartment’s terrace and saw the neighbor’s male Mane Coon was ripping up the flowers, and when Maria tried to scare it away, it turned on her. Luckily, Joey heard the scream and chased the cat away. Ansen wanted to get Animal Control to remove the neighbor’s cat, but Maria decided not to pursue it, and the neighbor’s kids begged them not to take the cat away.