Chef, Recipe and Waiter

Note: Sorry for the long LONG wait. It’s mostly due to laziness and…laziness. But to make up for it this one’s a big one.

Disclaimer: Konami’s Silent Hill and Takahashi’s Ranma belong to their respective owners. This is just for fun, please don’t sue.

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Nabiki stared at the wall, unable to wrap around the surreal concept within such a surreal world. The interior of the restaurant looked normal as could be; tables, chairs, and booths. It looked disturbingly normal, completely offset by the gaping maw of the black abyss outside the window as the only indication of the hell that the world had turned into.

The only visage to offset the disturbingly normal atmosphere was the wallpaper mural splayed across the wall; the kind put up in order to create a pleasing sight for a very minimal cost. It wasn’t of the Great Wall of China, or a pagoda amid a bamboo grove, or any other Chinese scene as Nabiki would have expected of the establishment, it was a scene over looking a vineyard. Long rows of grapes seemed to belong in the middle of some French, Sicilian or Californian valley.

Such an image was out of place, within a Chinese restaurant…

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Tsubasa groaned as he helped Konatsu move the flower display. “Are you sure this is the one she wanted?” He frowned as he looked at the white flowers. “I know she decided to go with a Western theme, a little more to the left, but white flowers?”

Konatsu sneezed in reply. “I know. Also how much pollen do these things have? My allergies are unaccustomed to this.”

“I didn’t know you had allergies.” Tsubasa said wiping his eyes that had just started to tear up again.

“Apparently, I do now.” Konatsu sneezed again. “It seems that you have a similar problem…alright that’s too much, take a step back. This is making me a bit dizzy.”

“Yeah, same here,” Tsubasa took a step back and nodded. “Alright, just five more of these things to place…where did she get these flowers anyway?”

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The largest table in the restaurant was a circular one for eight people. A lazy Susan sat on top of it, holding a menu propped upon it for display. As Nabiki cautiously approached, it was slowly rotating, as if someone had just spun the thing a few moments ago. The slow rotating motion caused the shadow against the wall cast by the lone table candle’s light against the menu to slowly change and distort; a rather impressive effect, and more than a little eerie.

Nabiki just rolled her eyes, already becoming accustomed to the gothic melodrama surrounding her, and snatched the menu off the table; she was so far beyond simple tricks at this point that she just found images like this to be cliché and tame. Opening the menu she was greeted with the sight of a robust variety of meat, vegetable, pork, and noodle dishes, as well as another page of that storybook she had been collecting to read during her dining pleasure.

There was also another boy and girl in the town

He was too smart for his own good

She was arrogant, greedy, and stubborn

They hated the town, hated God, and tried to hurt her

That made everyone very sad.

Damn the Boy

Damn the Girl

May they all go to Hell.

Nabiki added these pages to the rest of them, and found a few packets of soy sauce as she attempted to close the menu. She huffed, before moving to put them into the condiments tray on the table, and paused. On a hunch, she moved to the nearest table, and looked at the condiments tray, before moving to another; all the other table set-ups were devoid of soy sauce. There was salt, pepper, sugar, a sugar substitute, that red paste that the Amazons swore nobody in China ever touched, but no soy sauce. No little bottle that was stingy with the portions it handed out, not even the obnoxiously difficult to open plastic packets that were designed to splatter upon any light colored clothing once opened, nothing. It was almost as odd as the Italian vineyard mural on the wall. So, Nabiki decided to pocket the soy sauce packets; maybe the Americans hadn’t discovered the soy-based flavor enhancement, and she may get hungry later.

Nabiki moved to leave, before she noticed something else… or rather the lack of something. Where was the siren? Every time she had picked up these pages that awful siren would sound, and she would end up in a nightmare reality facing down some horrible creature. In fact, she almost mentally berated herself for almost subjecting her ears to that torture once again. Well…the fact that she was already in the demented nightmare world may account for that, and if a horrible monster with traits that resembled those that she knew from Nerima didn’t want to appear before her then she had absolutely NO issue with that.

The clatter from within the kitchen, the sound of falling pots and pans, brought an abrupt end to the wishful fantasy that she was alone. Nabiki shifted her grip on the baseball bat and pushed through the doors into the kitchen, deciding that it was best to get it before it got her. She entered just in time to see the back door slam closed, causing her to narrow her eyes in irritation; if this thing was out to kill her, the least it could do was not be a coward about it. Rushing up to the door, she tried to open it to chase after whoever just exited through it. As soon as she reached the knob, the sound of a lock sliding into place greeted her, signaling her inability to pursue.

Nabiki’s mind was back to full speed now. This door was the latest obstacle in her way; question was how to open it. Answer came easy enough, there was a complete fire safety kit attached to the wall in the dining area; they usually came in a glass box with a hose, extinguisher, and a small axe. She sprinted back into the dining room to get the axe. She stopped short the moment she entered and almost slumped in resignment.

“Figures.”

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“Hey get up.” Tsubasa shook Konatsu’s shoulder. “She wants us to change the seating arrangements again, and we have to replace the streamers, and the candles, and she has another four flower arrangements for us to place.”

Konatsu nodded. “Of course. Forgive me for dozing off. Come on, let’s go.”

Tsubasa groaned, as they headed to the renovated dojo/chapel. “You know, the Americans joke about the Bridezilla…but this is just ridiculous!”

“This is Akane’s special day, and you can’t say no to her, can you?”

Tsubasa sighed. “No. I just don’t see why we have to put in so many of those damn flowers.”

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The Chinese restaurant’s decor of soft pastel colors and grey carpet had been updated to Silent Hill’s far more popular steel, rust, and blood motif. The floor looked like a writhing scab, with a layer of…something…spread on top of the floor, complimented by the dark splotches and lumps moving along it. The furniture had been converted into uncomfortable looking mangled lumps of metal and wood.

Ceiling fans hung down by a single thin metal pole, the fan itself a slow, lopsidedly spinning collection of irregular and jagged metal blades. The fans that were working more avidly were spinning at an insane speed, making a horrid clacking and screeching sound as they moved back and forth to the motion. That caused the weak light coming from some unseen source from above to throb and flicker.

The damn mural was still there, only this time instead of a peaceful vineyard the scene looked out onto the field of Golgotha. Only instead of Romans, criminals, and other historical figures being crucified within the thorny thickets of rotting grapes, there were much more disturbingly familiar images draped in agony before her eyes.

In other words, just another typical setting for Silent Hill.

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“I can’t believe you overslept!” Tsubasa griped as the two raced towards the Saotome residence. “You of all people!”

“I apologize, I’m sorry!” Konatsu said, making a full apologetic bow the same time he was running. “She just had me working late last night, and I was so tired. I’m sorry! This will never happen again.”

Tsubasa shook his head in annoyance. “Let’s just get there already, maybe we can still make it in time.

The two cross-dressers arrived just in time to miss getting trampled by the exiting crowd. The dojo was empty, save the disturbing masses of pulped flesh that greeted the eyes. The smell of blood was in the air, Mingling with the whimpers and pained mews of those unable to flee on their own accord.

“W-wh-what the world happened here!” Tsubasa demanded, checking Cologne’s pulse, and recoiling way in horror.

Konatsu shook his head as he took out the cell phone Ukyo supplied him. “I’m calling an ambulance.”

Tsubasa nodded as he carefully pulled Shampoo and Mousse up to the wall. They had both finally passed out from the extent of their agony. “It must have been a rival or a retaliation or something. Have you found anyone else?”

“No…oh GODS AND HEAVENS!” Konatsu jumped away knocking over the decorative urn he was looking in. The putrid liquid that came pouring out was hard to identify, but the malformed head with the bras stuffed into the mouth, nose, and eye sockets that had been floating in the gelatinous fluid wasn’t. “What madness is this!”

“Hey, Konatsu! C’mere!” Tsubasa said standing over Nabiki’s form. “She’s just passed out. Help me move her, she might be able to explain what happened.”

Konatsu nodded and breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the ambulance approach, realizing someone had already made the call. He shook his head, as he helped his friend and rival for Ukyo’s affections carry the middle Tendou girl outside. “I hope Ukyo’s okay.”

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In the center of the room resided an open grill, a flat smooth steel finish grill showing its use, abuse, and wear by the stains, the cracks, the part where it had been mended it after Ranma threw Ryoga into it…or was it when Ryoga threw Ranma into it? Either way, for one who was careful of noticing and recalling detail, the grill’s origin was disturbingly obvious.

Nabiki focused from the grill to what she had just noticed behind it. Its hair undone and hanging limply over the majority of its face, while every inch of It was covered with filth and grime, and wore a joyless characterization of a greeting smile that shown from under the grungy mop of hair like a waxing moon. That accursed smile that taunted her, mocked her, accused her, and bred within her distress. It wasn’t the visual, horrifying as it was, but rather what it represented; pure unadulterated malice and hate, and even worse every ounce of it directed at her.

Nabiki took a few cautious steps towards the thing, her bat raised in a defensive position. Images of spatulas cutting through the air, buckets full of hot oil, exploding batter, and elastic noodles all came to mind as she considered possible attacks this thing could unleash.

As she got closer, she could see how it seemed to be growing out of the floor and the grill from the waist. Muscle sinew and scab encrusted skin tangled and merged with gas pipes and bits of metal that somewhere became pulsing veins; all of it writhing, hissing, and undulating within itself.

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The next day the horrid scene at the Amazon’s restaurant was discovered, the Kuno estate had grown eerily quiet, inexplicable suicides or murders throughout the town began to occur, and our two rather frazzled cross dressers collided into each other in front of the restaurant of the object of their affections.

“Where have you been?” They both blinked, before speaking again

“I was at the airport getting tickets!”

“Tickets?” Konatsu and Tsubasa paused, before continuing

“To get me and Ukyo out of here!”

“What makes you think she’s going with you?”

“She’s gonna come with me!” They both finished, pointing their fingers at their respective persons, before both growled at one another.

“STOP DOING THAT!”

The sound of a familiar voice singing softly stopped their stereophonic argument, as they both entered the restaurant. “Ukyo?” Konatsu tentatively enquired, before he coughed and fanned the air; thick with the stench of something burning. Before Konatsu could fully register the situation… “FIRE!” Tsubasa cried. They both looked at each other and charged inside with a single cry.

“UKYO!”

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“Ukyo?” Nabiki hazarded to speak to the creature, hoping that it would be as benevolent as Tofu and Hinako; it didn’t seem likely, but one could hope. Slowly, the creature began moving its arms. The motions were fluid, practiced… a familiar sight. The monster simply began to make okonomiyaki as if it were its only lot in life.

Nabiki blinked in confusion. Her mouth opened slightly in relative awe, as the thing flipped it over and began to work on the next one. Lazily, its head snapped up and looked directly at Nabiki.

“Silent Hill specials are hard to make, Sugar.” She spoke in a voice that sounded like it was under a terrific effort to do so, like the weight of the ocean was crushing its esophagus. “First, you need a person who’s given into the teachings of the Order.” The first okonomiyaki had begun to smoke, as its perfectly browned edges began to char. Ukyo ignored it, flipped the second one effortlessly, and started with a third.

She continued on her speech that horrible smile on her face faltering a little. “Then you must prepare and combine the other necessary ingredients; sinners, sacrifices, and vessels, before sprinkling liberally with White Claudia.”

The smoke was getting a little worse, as the awful smell of char started to form when the first okonomyiaki had turned into a burnt husk. Still, Ukyo kept talking as she continued to pile on more and more batter onto the grill. Her hands moved faster and faster, as the demonized chef’s smile was replaced by a look of panicked concern.

“Sadly, the first part of your preparations are but a sacrifice, made only necessary for your Final Vessel. Now this is the most important part mind you, fill this vessel with generous amounts of violence, hate, pain, and transfer the sins of all others into your vessel. Then when she can take in no more, when she has no memory but hate, sin, and pain…” The mass on the grill had actually lit on fire in a few areas, while the smoke that reached Nabiki stung her eyes and throat. She forced herself to ignore the irritation, concentrating on Ukyo’s speech, and the expression of pain on her face from the effort to speak.

“After you get your base ready, prepared all of your rituals and sacrifices, and have your vessel prepared. Then…to turn ANY dish you want into a Silent Hill Special…all you have to do…” The creature’s smile returned, “…is to kill your vessel.”

A loud sharp CRACK echoed through the room, and the thing pitched her head forward so far to actually touch the burning mass on the grill. A soft sizzling noise reached Nabiki’s ears, and then the monster raised its face again. Dripping with batter, red with burns the smile that had returned, it continued adding to the burning mess piled on the grill. Internally Nabiki sighed in resignation and despair, like Tofu, Hinako, and the rest, any humanity within the creature before her had been taken away. Even if Ukyo was not much more than an associate, it hurt her to see the once ever-cheerful chef destroyed in such a way

With grim determination, Nabiki cocked her gun and readied it. “I’m sorry Ukyo.” She started to pull back the trigger when she heard a sound that made her lower her weapon and jump to the side.

“CHARRRGE!”

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The worst fires are the ones where you can’t see any flames, because the smoke is just too thick to see anything at all. You stumble around in a blind panic as your eyes, nose, and throat all are enflamed with pain from the noxious fumes. The cackling sound of flames devouring everything surrounds you. Occasionally you’ll hear something collapse, and you can only pray that whatever it was it wont fall on top of you.

Everything to the touch feels either searing hot or freezing cold; if you put your hand down for one second you may find it’s covered in flames when you bring it back up. The flames of course aren’t what you really should fear; it’s the air itself that becomes your worst enemy. Step in the wrong spot or turn your face the wrong way and you can be hit by a burst of hot air with a temperature capable of flash-frying flesh, painfully stripping your face of your familial likeness. It’s not simply the flames that cause a fiery inferno but the invisible enemy that truly makes it Hell.

This is what Tsubasa and Konatsu were facing. Thankfully they were doing generally intelligent things, yet ignoring that the smartest thing to do would be to run out of the restaurant as fast as humanly possible. They were crawling along the floor, pieces of cloth over their faces as Konatsu’s kunoichi training dictated. They both wore protective eyewear from Tsubasa’s disguise kit, and had one of those tinfoil-looking fire resistant tarps over their heads.

They slowly crawled toward the sound of Ukyo’s singing, the main grill in the center of the room. The awful burning smell became overwhelming, as the stench of multiple horrid burning odors mingled. They reached the grill and carefully stood up, intent on rescuing Ukyo and escaping.

Ukyo was standing behind her grill, softly and blissfully singing a cheery pop tune that had been playing on the radio over the past few days. She was doing the same thing she had been doing every day, almost mechanically making okonomiyaki. Only, after she poured on the batter and flipped it over, she would just leave it there and start a new one. This had been apparently been going on for hours on end, the entire grill was a baked on mess. With a simple smile on her face, as if nothing was wrong in the world, Ukyo remained oblivious to what was happening.

The two looked at each other and had a silent, fast, conversation on what they should do. One game of janken later Konatsu sprinted to the exit to clear a path and Tsubasa charged at Ukyo, trying to knock her out of the trance she seemed to be in.

It was a rather good plan, would have worked as well, save for the flames reaching the main gas line in the back. Konatsu fell outside and he turned around to watch the restaurant that he, his rival, and his beloved made together collapse into a fiery pile of rubble. The Kunoichi dropped to his knees, all the feeling and emotion within him suddenly crushed to death.

There was no chance of anyone surviving by the time fire department finally arrived. No one paid any notice to the young boy as they rushed to contain the flames, and only after they had finished extinguishing the blaze and retrieving the corpses that they realized that he hadn’t moved from that spot since they arrived, even though there was a large chunk of wood shrapnel embedded in his shoulder.

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A huge figure rose up from beneath the scabby floor like a giant tumor growing from flesh. The thing then ran at Nabiki, proclaiming its charge as it did so. Nabiki managed to jump out of the way, and watched the tumor sink back into the floor like a deflating balloon. She took a few steps back when the smoke began to make her cough. It was getting harder and harder to see as time went on, telling her of the precious moments she had to survive this ordeal.

Not wanting to waste any time, she took aim at the monster behind the grill and fired. It was a dead on perfect shot. Only the tumor thing rose up out of the floor like a jack in the box and blocked the bullet. Then it sank back into the floor, seemingly unharmed. The monster behind the grill kept on piling on the batter, meat, and vegetables. The smoke was starting to get really thick at this point and the flames had actually started to creep down the sides of the grill, licking at the floor like hungry beasts tasting a new type of morsel.

Recalling her second grade fire safety lecture Nabiki dropped to the floor where the air was a bit clearer, giving her more time. Nabiki closed her eyes and came up with a plan. Grabbing a long piece of jagged metal that could have been pipe or a chair leg, she got her gun ready again. After whispering a silent three count, she sprinted for the thing behind the grill. As expected, the tumor monster arose again to protect his beloved. Nabiki wasted no time, and slammed the metal pole, point down, into the thing’s shoulder and out the other side pinning it to the ground. Still running she took two more steps to get a clear shot, on the last step the tumor thing grabbed her ankle sending her body and her aim sprawling, and jarring her hand to discharge the gun.

The wild shot hit the support of the fan that was above the grill. That caused a minor tear in the wire support, the spinning motion causing the tear to enlarge rapidly. The fan’s predicament did not escape Nabiki’s notice, and from her prone position, fired several more shots into the fan’s support.

With a loud snap, the fan broke away from the wires and began to descend downwards, still spinning. The fan made three prefect slices, one across the things face, another across the neck, and the last one across the thing’s torso. It was strange, Nabiki thought, how she didn’t scream even when all that blood was cascading down her body and into her culinary creation. Well, maybe since it was a monster it didn’t feel pain.

Just like she was feeling right now, being that her hair was on fire.

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Konatsu was committed into the Nerima Ward. However he wasn’t restrained or treated, in fact he was given free reign of the ward. He would help take care of everyone there. Changing bedspreads and bedpans, cooking and serving meals, anything that needed to be done, he did. His skills allowed him to do the work of multiple orderlies, and he soon became a favorite of the staff. As long as he was there they didn’t have to deal with the Nermia patients.

It was only after he collapsed after the fifth week they realized that he hadn’t been sleeping, also he had barely eaten anything and was drinking as little as possible. The staff tried to sedate him and get him on an intravenous feed, but Konatsu would have none of that. It took six men to hold him down so he could be sedated; all the while the boy was saying the same thing over and over;

“I can’t sleep! I can’t eat! I CAN’T! SHE HASN’T SAID I COULD YET! UKYO HAS NOT SAID I CAN!”

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As Nabiki rapidly patted out her head, the mutilated creature collapsed, face down into the sticky, burning mess in front of it. A small sucking noise was present as it slowly sank into the mass of batter; it was replaced by the sound of something sizzling. The mobile tumor in the floor slowly sank back into the flat surface, its shoulders shuddering as if it were crying. Now all she had to do now was escape from the restaurant before she was burned alive.

Leaving the way she came in was out; fiery debris blocked that path completely. She returned to the kitchen, and immediately swore. She had forgotten to grab the fire ax! The door to the back entrance was still firmly locked and no amount of physical force from her small frame could get it to open. The smoke was starting to get a little thick in the room as well, and she could see the flames inching closer from the windows in the kitchen door. Her attention was diverted by the sound of something collapsing in the room she had just left, some debris landed in just the right position to hold open the kitchen door, allowing the smoke to pour in.

This was very very bad. Nabiki scanned the room again looking for anything she could use. There were no windows, nothing that could help her get the damn door open, her eyes then rested on the heavy steel door to the walk in freezer. It was slightly open. Thanking providence (whatever was left of it here) for the lucky break, she pulled open the door with a grunt, jumped inside the cool room, and shut the door behind her. It was only until three seconds after she heard the door click shut that she realized that there was no way out of the freezer.

“Great…now I can freeze to death.” Nabiki muttered to herself. She walked around the large meat freezer. Huge slabs of meat hung from hooks, she noted the bloodstains on the floor and walls along with what looked like evidence of a shootout, as there were numerous bullet holes in the walls. Nabiki marked it down again as par for course for here.

Nabiki did a double take as something caught her eye. Pinned to one of the beef flanks was a postcard from Nerima. One side had a lovely panoramic view from the city, before everything went to hell. The other was addressed to some residence within the town. It was in English but, as with most learned foreign languages, reading it was a bit easier that speaking and translating spoken words.

Dear Sister Claudia,

Hello from the Land of the Rising Sun! The plane ride was unbearable, but it has paid off in spades. The land of my roots is truly beautiful. The town, in which I am staying in, Nerima, is a wonderful place. Not too ‘classical’ like Osaka, and not overly modernized like the rest of Tokyo. In a lot of ways Nerima reminds me of the paradise of Silent Hill.

Anyway, I am here to do God’s work, not write a travelogue, thank Father Vincent for the White Claudia seeds, the climate is perfect here to cultivate them. God be praised. I hope to find many converts here, best of luck to your endeavors to find the Holy Mother. Give everyone my best.

God’s Humble Missionary

Brother Gregory Itori

“A missionary?” Nabiki said awestruck. “You mean that they’re actually trying to make MORE places like THIS!” She said a look of disgust and horror on her face. Her mind drifted back to Burlew and his ‘demonic tentacles’ she though it was nothing more than a dramatic flourish the first time she read his description, now she felt it was woefully inadequate.

CLICK! The sound caused her to start as a part of one of the walls swung out just a little with the accompanying sound. Nabiki approached and gave that section of the wall a little push. The door in the wall swung open revealing a long, nondescript, hallway. Her feeble little pocket light could only penetrate so far into the darkness.

As Nabiki stepped out of the freezer, she wasn’t thinking about any possible dangers or anything else, as she decided even facing the unknown was better than certain death.

Still she couldn’t help but wonder, why would anyone make a secret door in the side of a meat locker? In fact how could this even physically exist? The restaurant wasn’t this big, she hadn’t gone underground, out of all of the things she had seen this made the least sense and disturbed her the most. The rules of physical reality had seemed to have surrendered to Silent Hill. She doubted she was even in Silent Hill anymore, as she walked down the hall, she doubted she was on Earth at this point. She wasn’t really anywhere any more, she figured after a moment, not Silent Hill, not Nerima, not Earth, certainly not Heaven, and, even as bad as things were, not Hell.

She was in Nowhere.

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Author’s Notes: That wallpaper mural is actually in my hometown’s Chinese restaurant by the way. Thanks to WFROSE and all reviews are welcome, as per usual. Well, you guys seemed to like my Ryoga omake so much, that you asked for more, alright here you go! FEEL THE PAIN!

Proofer’s Notes: Sorry I took so long proofing this myself, it’s been a hectic… year for me, and it’s only gotten worse this started fall. Anyhow, now that I’m done with this, it’s time for me to go write my annual Halloween fic (Akane’s turn this time )

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The corridor to the Hellish Abyss was silent; Yae and Sae had already been taken down to complete the ritual. The mourners silently patrolled the corridor, making sure that there would be no more interruptions or delay. Yes, nothing could stop the crimson sacrifice now.

Five inches above the head of the mourner, desperately holding onto the cracks in the rock ceiling, holding the camera obscura in his teeth, Ryoga Hibiki slowly crawled down the corridor. One could only wonder what would be going through his mind. What focus it must take to perform such an amazing feat, yes this is a true testament to his discipline and focus.

“Oh God please don’t let me fall…. please don’t let me fall…why wont my pants dry, can they smell me? Please don’t let me fall…don’t make a sound…please don’t let me fall…I think I was better off with the giant monster and the guy in the beret…please God, Amatseru, Buddha, Zeus, ANYONE please don’t let me fall!”

Finally, after a long, long climb/crawl along the ceiling roof he reached the end. All the while cursing himself for being careless enough to let both of the twins get captured; cursing All God’s Village for existing; cursing every last one of these damn ghosts; cursing Mio, Mayu; cursing the camera; and finally cursing Ranma for…well…because!

It was a large circular room with what looked like hundreds of candles, in the center there were two ghosts throttling each other. Ryoga raised the camera, preparing to send these spirits to the great beyond. The two longhaired ghosts turned to face him. “Why do you kill?”

“BECAUSE YOU WON’T STOP SAYING THAT!” Click.

Unfortunately Ryoga’s little vocal catharsis to his worries and anxiety (Some would call it a mild mental break down…hey his pants stayed dry this time at least.) caused him to not notice the ghost that materialized behind him. He turned around slowly to stare face to face with the most horrid creature he had seen yet. White haired, with a mouth open wide in an unearthly scream of pain, a horrid spirit of anguish, the Kusabi. Ryoga had just enough time to open his mouth in shock before the Kusabi plunged its hand into his chest.

The touch of the Kusabi is fatal, as all the pain the Kusabi experienced in its creation is experienced by the victim. Upon that horrible images of death from all the other Crimson Sacrifices are played in the mind over and over again. The result is that, while there is no physical harm, the victim’s mind just shuts down, overloaded by all the perceived pain and the horrid images. Blood spurts out from the nose, the heart stops, people go into insane murderous fits, suicides, and other horrid fates await those who suffer from the touch of the Kusabi.

However, the Kusabi had never met anyone one like Ryoga Hibiki, he didn’t die, lose his mind or the will to live. He just became depressed.

Really, really, REALLY depressed.

Sae smiled as she watched her sister approach her timidly. All pretenses had been forgotten, the veiled priests banging their staves in preparation, the sacrifice finally would be completed. They would finally be together…forever.

The explosion behind them, however, changed the situation a little. Sae and Mio watched in confused awe as the Kusabi was hurled into their room. It looked like it had been physically pummeled, more so that it was already. In fact it was actually crawling TOWARDS the Hellish Abyss, as if to escape what was coming after it.

“And all this time I thought it had been Ranma that had shown me Hell” A voice calmly stated from beyond the room, “…then I thought it was Agent Kennedy…but now I can say that YOU have shown me Hell…LITERALLY!” The angry, almost growling proclamations came from the sickly green glowing boy walking into the room, the camera obscura clenched in his hand tightly.

Sae backed away in fear. “You can’t be real! You’re a…a…a monster…a DEMON!”

“Ryoga!” Mio yelled. “Use the camera!”

Ryoga nodded, quickly aimed the camera, and pressed the button. Nothing happened. He pressed it again and again in desperation. Still nothing!

“Ryoga…you need to put film in it.” Mio said tossing him her satchel with the film packets within. Ryoga desperately tried to load the camera, his panic making his fingers clumsy. Sae started to laugh as she approached the boy, the red mist starting to appear around her.

Desperately Ryoga grabbed a small sphere, pulled out the pin inside it and hurled it into the air above the Hellish Abyss. Sae paused for a moment curious as to what would happen. The only thing it did was pop loudly and now the air was filled with these little specks of sparkly dust. She smiled the boy returned to his scramble to load film into the camera. As if it would do any good. She was really going to enjoy hurting him.

Ryoga just smiled as he raised the camera and pressed the shutter button.

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“Alright, I know you dislike guns and that’s okay. You apparently don’t need them.” Leon said handing three egg shaped objects to Ryoga. “But you may need these just in case you need to make a quick get away.” Leon shrugged, and smirked, “or if someone shoots a rocket at you.”

“Thank you Agent Kennedy.”

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The flash went off, and the world seemed to explode with light. The chaff from the grenade bounced the light off each and every one of the tiny flakes of metal. The world seemed to be caught in the midst of a huge strobe light. The scream from Sae was more than satisfying; the Kusabi let out another bellow of pain and writhed on the ground. The veiled priests vanished, hands over their faces as the rapidly faded from this existence. The Hellish Abyss itself seemed to react to the light; a presence of malevolence that had been in the air suddenly grew weaker.

“MAYU!” Mio cried out in fear. Ryoga looked and swore. The poor girl was standing on the edge of the Abyss, and (if Ryoga knew how these things worked and he was pretty sure he did) any minute the tunnel would start to collapse. What was worse was that Mio was running towards the Hell pit, intent on rescuing her sister.

“No! Stay back!” Ryoga cried pushing Mio away as he ran towards the girl. Before he reached her he pulled down his bandana over his eyes, remembering that one should NEVER look into the Hellish Abyss. He grabbed Mayu’s shoulders and pushed her away from the edge and towards her sister.

“GO! RUN! DON’T LOOK BAAAAAAAAGH!” he cried as the ground started to shake.

“RYOGA!” Both girls cried out as they watched the martial artist fall into the yawning maw of the unending depth. Another hard tremor made them momentarily forget the loss of their friend and focus on their own plight. By a miracle they were able to both escape out into the woods, and were found by the search party that had been sent to look for them.

Ryoga was falling…he had been falling for a long time; he was also falling in darkness. Well…actually it was in yellow and back but he didn’t dare open his eyes or touch the bandanna around them. Suddenly he felt a strange shift, as if something had pulled him in a different direction that he never knew existed. The next thing he felt was the wind whistling by him fast and a feeling of warmth.

Taking a chance he took off his blindfold to see a blue sky and a sun above him…and the ground rushing up to meet him very VERY fast. Then he was back to darkness for a while.

Ryoga was awakened by the sensation of being forcibly shaken into that state. The next thing he knew two armored men on horseback had pulled him to his feet placed him in stocks and chains and were now force-marching him.

“Hey. You don’t look like the rest of these Neanderthals.” The man behind him said in English, Ryoga tried to turn and look at him, but his bonds and the annoying whips of his current captors prevented him from facing the man behind him.

“No. I am not from where this am is. Ah gomen, my English is not fluent.”

“Nah nah, it’s fine chief. So how’d you get here?”

“Fell down giant black pit to Hell. How you arrive here?”

“Sucked into a magical Hell portal. Guess we’re in similar binds. Can you fight?”

“Oh yes! A martial artist, good one!”

The man behind him chuckled. “Groovy.”