The Local Tong

Sensoo · Master of the Universe Joined: 06 Feb 2007 Posts: 25

I'm "telling" not "showing" enough, and I can't make it stop. (Part of me suspects it is the best way to tell this story as it is a short story, but it feels too boring and I'm going to have to revamp it.

A lot.

Excerpt:

Climbing the creaking, quite possibly rotting, stairs, Timothy Takagi came to the conclusion that he was indeed, older than this establishment. It was a mildly perturbing revelation; the hotel had seen better days, unfashionably small and old, and in dire need of a new paint job: the once blue exterior had been weather-beaten to a somber gray. He reached the second-story bedroom, furnished with one twin bed, one chair, and a small dresser with a cracked mirror. For a “resort,” it was Spartan, far too cramped and musty for the price he was paying, but the windows were surprisingly broad, and the view of the beach and the boardwalk below, spectacular. It did not matter; he packed fairly light, one large black duffel bag sat beside him on the bed, long enough to hold a katana, but that was not relevant at all.
Parting the moth-eaten curtains, Takagi watched the foam-crested waves of a gray-green sea and wondered if the shapes beneath the water were only tricks of the dusk, malformed shadows of the gulls overhead. From here he could see much, two dark skinned men walking hand in hand; a thin almost-pubescent girl poking through the flotsam and jetsam; an elderly Japanese man tap-tap-tapping down the walkway in wooden geta, taking his evenly-timed evening stroll. Takagi watched for a long time from behind the smudged, thick-bottomed windows. In the distance the sky bled orange, but was beginning to settle for a velvety deep blue.
Brushing back his short hair, more out of habit than necessity, Takagi sat on the bed, not quite reclining. He was no longer young, but the years, and other things, had been kind. He looked the same as he had twenty five years ago, but for the sharper angles of his face and the thicker calluses on his hands.
The room melted in the shadows and humidity, and Takagi did not rise to turn on the lights. Sitting against the thin walls, he wrapped himself in darkness and worn cotton and waited to fall asleep.
The sea air made him hungry, restless, and nostalgic, though the restlessness and nostalgia were hungers in their own right, though he would loathe to admit how related they might be. The climate here was far warmer, and the people nothing like the people from back then. Almost, he reminded himself with a certain hollow permissiveness, the people were almost nothing like the people from back then; there were always exceptions. And even then, people changed. But there were always exceptions, and even without looking in the mirror, Takagi knew he was one of them.
He slid into sleep slowly and willingly, his bag still zipped up beside him.
And when he became aware of himself again, he was wading knee deep in blood and offal and feathers. The vast span of sky was as gray and flat as it had been in the winter of 1938, and the field just as bloody. Takagi stood impassively, the mere leftovers of the dead not really touching him. He did not part the sea of red or walk atop it; he only strolled through it unscathed. And he waited.
Timothy Takagi did not have nightmares.
His shadow was lean and angled, with long talons and a longer nose, a grossly exaggerated caricature of a man. Things writhed beneath the surface, ominous silhouettes and inhuman bulges, waiting to be born from the gore. Takagi flexed his fist and his katana suddenly in hand. He bit his lip hard, and tasted the salty sweet tang of blood and knew his breath now stank of it. The wound only tingled a bit, and he swallowed instinctively.
He knew what would happen next, and he could only watch and dread as bubbles broke the surface. Sickly-colored membranes stretched unnaturally and within he could see twitching masses of blood and bone and ichor wheezing and quivering as they ate their ways out of the mass.
For as far as Takagi could see monster, demons, abominations broke free and it began to rain.
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A long way from where I started and too lost to turn back now.

Yuusuke · Posted: Tue Feb 09, 2010 5:04 pm Post subject:

Finally wrapping up the old nano, 7day. Will have it done by the end of the month. Can't wait to get started on something new. ^^;
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Shonen, Rock Music, and [Dreams]