Megadrak: Beast Of The Apocalypse

by Christofer Nigro

  Here it comes, Sato thought to himself as he tried standing at ease.

  “You and Hayada-kun, whom you have worked with in the past, are the two government-employed experts in the biological sciences who have acquired the most experience dealing with the new troubling phenomena of daikaiju as well as that dangerous new species of mutated bloodworm. I understand such experience is not yet extensive, as this is a new science, but fate appears to have decreed the pair of you to be pioneers in the burgeoning field. One that will surely be of immense importance to the world.

  “Additionally, your respective work records, and the loyalty you have each shown to your country, are exemplary. It is our firm belief that you will both be ideal for such an important research position.”

  Sato swallowed hard. “General, what exactly is on these tables?”

  “Ah, yes, the tables. Please observe.”

  Takimodo walked over to the first table and pulled off the tarpaulin, which immediately confirmed Sato’s worst fears. On it lay the grotesque, rust-red form of a partially vivisected adult Glyceracon. Next to it on the same surface lay two dead juvenile specimens of the mutant species, one of which was cut in half with its viscera strewn about for careful examination.

  “It was with great difficulty that we secured these samples. But now you and Hayada-kun have full access to them. The UN organization that includes our government has tasked you with discovering whatever you can about their strange biological nature and functions.”

  “It is the opportunity of a lifetime, Sato-kun,” Hayada added. “Think of it for a moment. Of all the scientists in this nation—in this world, even—we are the two to be graced with this good fortune!”

  Sato swallowed again. “Indeed. And, the other table…?”

  “What is on that table represents an even more extraordinary opportunity, Sato-kun!” Hayada said with giddy excitement.

  The general walked over to the second table and removed the tarpaulin. The sight of what lay beneath that cover was even more horrifying to Sato’s eyes.

  It was the naked body of what at first seemed to be an adult human male, whose stomach was sliced open. The small intestine was hanging out of the wide incision and draped over his left hip like a thin pinkish tube. Hayada had clearly chosen not to wait for the arrival of his colleague to begin examining this apparently human cadaver.

  Upon taking a closer look, however, Sato noticed that the dead man’s wide-open eyes were a dull purple in color, a characteristic he had never seen before on any human being regardless of their race or ethnic heritage.

  Sato cringed when he realized what he was likely looking at. “This man, is he… was he…?”

  “Hai,” the general confirmed with a smile. “This was the Teleporting Man who surfaced in Osaka a mere month after the Megadrak and the worms appeared. He is a human mutant.

  “We believe the nature of his strange capacities derive from the same source as the kaiju and the mutated worm species: the radioactive fallout released from the atom bomb tests in the Pacific. We believe this… being is not the last of the mutants to appear, as other reports are now coming in, including those describing a man who can turn invisible and a woman who can move objects without physically touching them.

  “With the appearance of that second kaiju on two Ogasawara atolls, which that unfortunate scientist ended up naming Kyowama, we have proof Megadrak was not the only kaiju to be spawned by that radiation. More are almost certain to arise, but we cannot foresee when and where. We also cannot possibly predict what forms said kaiju will take, or what strange capabilities they will display in addition to their incredible size, tremendous strength, and virtual invulnerability. Note that Megadrak and Kyowama were morphologically dissimilar enough that we must expect all subsequent appearances of daikaiju to constitute a unique gigantic species unto themselves.

  “We as yet have no idea as to what genetic factors enable certain ordinary organisms to mutate into those mega-gigantic forms. Everything about the kaiju defies every branch of science that we know, something I am certain has not escaped the notice of a man of your expertise. That is why it will be your job to find all of this out, and see if we are dealing with areas of science that we never imagined existing until just a few months ago.

  “The anomalous dangers do not end with the kaiju, either. There will doubtless be other dangerous mutated species of animal like the Glyceracon to emerge as well. Those can be readily destroyed with conventional military weaponry, but they are still no less dangerous in their own way than the daikaiju.

  “As for the human mutants, we cannot begin to guess what any of these individuals will do when their… abnormalities manifest. They must be considered as capricious as conventional members of the human species, which can be expected to result in a distressing diversity of behaviors and alliances. Of particular concern to us is that most of this lot can hide amongst common humanity with relative ease.

  “With all of that taken into consideration, it is imperative that the governments of the world learn everything possible about how all three of these radiation-spawned aberrations function, and how to counter, control, and if possible, duplicate their attributes. Doing so may soon be of the utmost importance to the military in dealing with the kaiju and other megafauna, as well as some of the more… troublesome human mutants which may arise.

  “My apologies that we do not possess a kaiju specimen to study, and we have no idea as yet how to procure one, but that may be something you and Hayada-kun’s research can help us formulate. In the meantime, a UN-directed military unit is presently searching for the corpse of the Kyowama, which was reported to be dispatched by Megadrak before the reptile itself was dealt with.”

  Sato looked down without saying a word, as the thoughts going through his head at this point were nothing he could share with his superiors in the government. Nor, he believed, could they be safely confided to his ardently dedicated colleague.

  ***

  One of the beaches in the Kasai Rinkai Park, Tokyo Bay, across from the Edogawa River and Tokyo Disneyland, circa 2017

  Sora Utada walked quietly and casually over the sands of the beach while the earphones inserted into his cell phone provided him with the latest tunes from the Sparkly Twinkle Girls and Raw Hentai in looping succession. The lyrics to “Otaku of My Dreams” and “My Transgendered Doll” served as a balm to his senses while his evening stroll proceeded without incident for over an hour.

  The tranquility of the location during the evening hours provided him with a respite that the young otaku fan sorely needed after a hard day’s work serving guests at the Tokyo Disney Resort. This was his favorite pastime before the weekends, where he could rub shoulders with kindred spirits in the local Ginza clubs, and cosplay as everyone from the erotically driven assassin Lady Bone to the legendary monster-fighting Agent Verdigris.

  The rotund youth’s gait was casual as he loafed through the sand, snapping his fingers and moving his bespectacled head back and forth to the rhythm of the pop and grunge tunes flowing into his ears. A few waves rolled up onto the sand a few meters to his side, and he enjoyed the multi-colored sheen that sometimes reflected off the water, courtesy of the blinking lights originating from the amusement park section of Disneyland a short distance away.

  As Sora walked past one of the many wooden piers jutting from the water at periodic points, he was suddenly taken aback when the music accessed via the mp3 app on his phone was replaced with incessant static, as if it were subject to electromagnetic interference.

  “Oh, damn,” the corpulent young man in the large bifocals said aloud to himself. “Is this from sun spots? Or could the Electric Samurai actually be close by? And wouldn’t that be something if it were true?”

  Sora removed the earphones and closely inspected the device when he suddenly became aware of a disturbance in the air before him. It began as a loud whirring sound, and he soon witnessed what resembled a spinning hole materialize in the atmosphere just a short distance
in front of him.

  The sound coming from the whirling hole grew louder, drowning out the music from his phone’s minute speaker system. The spinning portal grew exponentially larger, until it was big enough to drive an SUV through it. The young man had never seen the likes of such a phenomenon before, despite growing up in a world that regularly dealt with strange kaiju and mutants.

  Sora backed away from the spinning tear in space/time as strong winds seemed to emanate from its epicenter. The apparent vortex seemed to have a bluish cast to it, which was vaguely discernible even though night had fallen on this part of the world. And that is when things got really strange.

  A lanky man suddenly jumped out of the center of the rift, landing face first on the sand. He had an old-fashioned looking fedora on his head, which fell off when he landed. Around his neck was what looked like an old Canon photo lens camera, and his entire manner of dress seemed to be oddly outdated. As the man lifted himself up and spit a few hundred particles of sand out of his mouth, the spinning rift in the air appeared to implode, doing so with a loud noise that caused the newcomer to jump up with a start.

  “I am finally back!” the odd interloper said in clear Japanese after watching the last vestiges of the whirling dimensional fissure vanish into the ether. “It would seem Verdigris was right—this particular rift did lead back to Japan! I believe I recognize this place as a beach on Tokyo Bay! Hip Harei!”

  The man’s elated expression turned to a frown when the flashing lights of Tokyo Disneyland caught his attention. “Hmph, I cannot say I remember an amusement park anywhere in the bay.” That was when he looked and finally seemed to notice a very startled looking Sora.

  “You!” the man said as he ran over to the heavy-set youth, who backed away instinctively. “Can you tell me exactly where in Japan I am? It was daylight when I first left, but now it is night time, and my… traveling partner said the time frame may be a bit off when I returned, so…”

  It was then that the man’s eyes slid down to Sora’s tee shirt, as its brightly colored Pokemon creature emblem looked like no cartoon character he had seen before. And from there his eyes moved down to the cell phone in the rotund youth’s hand. A look of extreme incredulity flooded the odd man’s mien.

  “What is that character on your shirt?” he asked. “And what exactly is that little box in your hand? Is that… a miniature television screen and glowing numbers I see on it? With colors? No regular sized television I have ever seen had… colors! So how could that…?”

  “It… it’s just my cell phone,” Sora croaked out, his own level of incredulity matching that of the odd visitor who had just literally warped into his life.

  “A sold phone?”

  “Cell phone! You know, like what we make calls with, send text messages from, take pictures with, blah blah blah?”

  The strange man’s eyes looked as if they were about to pop from their sockets. “What in the hell are you talking about? You cannot carry a phone with you outdoors, and you need a camera to take pictures! And… and I want to know what is going on here and where the hell I am…!”

  It was that moment when a truly disturbed look came over the odd chap’s face.

  “Wait. Please answer this question, as strange as it may sound. What year is this?”

  Sora now had a thoroughly confused expression, but he decided to honor the man’s odd query for lack of any other appropriate response he could think of.

  “Bro, it’s… 2017.”

  The strange man covered his face with both palms. “Oh, dear ancestors. It cannot be true.”

  “What can’t be true? Dude, who are you and where the hell did you just come from?” Then it was Sora’s turn to suddenly achieve a stunning realization. “Wait… wait… but, no way! You can’t be… wait! Are you by any chance Ren Honda?”

  The man’s face sprung out of his hands and he grabbed Sora by the flimsy material of his shirt. “I am! How did you recognize me?”

  “Well, I do lots of research on the Internet.”

  “The inner net?”

  “No, the… look, if you’re really from the 50s, you won’t know what the Internet is anyway. Not until you get re-educated for this time period.”

  “This cannot be happening! How do you know who I am?”

  “Because I’m into all kinds of unusual stuff, especially since my older brother is a big shot in the Kaiju Kombat Force, and I remember seeing your pic and reading how you vanished during some shit at the Diet building involving the first appearance of Megadrak. Which was actually the first time any kaiju attacked the world, so…”

  “Shut up for a minute! You mean, Megadrak has attacked Japan more than once?”

  “Not just Japan, but several places in the world, sort of like once per decade since 1954 or something like that. But he didn’t attack Japan again until just last year, and… whoa, man, do you ever have some catching up to do!”

  “And this… ‘Kaiju Combat Force’? There have been more kaiju since Megadrak?”

  “With a K, not a C, in case you were thinking of it the wrong way in your head. And like I said, you really have some catching up to do! Let me call my brother, he’ll help you figure all of this out…”

  By that time, however, an extremely distraught Ren Honda collapsed to his knees in the sand, his mind overwhelmed with disbelief. Sora punched his brother’s personal number onto the touch screen of his cell phone, poked the “send” symbol, and impatiently waited for the call to go through. His brother thankfully picked up after only two rings, a rarity for a busy soldier like him.

  “Kane? You totally have to get over here now, man!”

  “No, I’m not in trouble for peeing in public again, honest! You are not going to believe who I just ran into on the beach here tonight!”

  “No, I swear it won’t be a waste of your time! You gotta get here, like right now. Ren Honda just popped up out of a time rift or something!”

  “Yes, that Ren Honda!”

  “Yes, seriously!”

  “No, you won’t end up kicking my ass for crying wolf!”

  “No, it’s not some ‘stupid cosplay thing’! Just get over here, and you’ll see!”

  “Okay, okay, I know what I’m in for if it turns out I’m shitting you. Just get here now!”

  Sora ended the call and put his hand on the shoulder of the still whimpering Ren Honda to offer whatever support he could, still not believing this incredible thing that happened in his life on the night of August 9, 2017. However, not even a young man of his imagination could possibly guess what destiny would have in store for him and a certain time-displaced photojournalist.

  END

  Read on for a free sample of Kaiju Rampage

  AUTHOR BIO

  Christofer Nigro is an author and freelance editor who has several published credits to his name. These include short stories in anthologies published by Black Coat Press, Pro Se Press, Sirens Call Publications, Grinning Skull Press, Horrified Press, and Metahuman Press. He has been a periodic contributor to the Sirens Call ezine, and a regular contributor to Black Coat’s annual Tales of the Shadowmen anthology since its eighth volume (2017 will see the publication of its fourteenth volume). His previous work for Severed Press includes the novella Dargolla: A Kaiju Nightmare. He has also had short stories in the kaiju genre published in Grinning Skull Press’s anthology ATTACK! Of the B Movie Monsters: Night of the Gigantus and Matt Dennion’s self-published Attack of the Kaiju Volume 1.

  Kaiju Rampage

  Captain Daichi watched his crew hard at work on the deck of the Hiroaka. The day had just begun, but already the ship’s hold was filling up with fish from her nets. Daichi had never seen the kind of loads his men were hauling now before in his life. It was almost as if something out there in the water was driving the fish his way. He whispered a prayer of thanks and smiled. This was Daichi’s first run as captain. He had feared he would not live up to the expectations of his father and let the old man down. Even at the age of thirty-on
e, Daichi was somewhat afraid of the old man. Though his father was pushing eighty, he could still make his words cut deeper than the sharpest of swords.

  The two of them had never seen eye to eye. Daichi had never wanted to be a part of his father’s fishing company, much less the captain of the old man’s best remaining boat. Daichi had dreamed of being a writer, going to America, and becoming a star. At first, he had some success. He had sold his first ever story to a paying magazine and almost immediately got an offer to write one for another. That sort of thing was rare in the writing world, and Daichi allowed himself to believe that he could make it. He spent the next few years doing his best. His work sold, he made money, but it was never quite enough or dependable enough to be all he did in terms of a job.

  Daichi’s father had been there for him, if at a price. His father had given him just enough work to keep him afloat and chasing his dream for a time. After five years had passed, his father became more and more demanding of him, pushing more and more work onto him. His father’s health had begun to fail with age. The old man needed someone who could take over and continue to bring honor to the family name. Daichi was the only son. He had three sisters, but his father wanted him, not them. His father held with the old ways and wanted Daichi to surrender his failed dream to step up and do what he had been born to do.

  When this fishing season had started, the old man had given Daichi a choice. Take over as captain of the Hiroaka or leave the family business behind for good. Daichi had known it was no idle threat. Either he stepped up or he was out. His self-published sales were down, and short stories weren’t paying what they used to, not that it had ever been enough. With his rent already close to being late and a stack of bills on his desk, Daichi was left with no choice. Now, here he was on the deck of the Hiroaka, doing the job he had sworn as a child he would never do.