Vampire: The Requiem - Japan

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Vampire: The Requiem - Japan

Post by Loredoctor »

Please only post in here for stories/chapters relating to Japan.
Waddley wrote:your Highness Sir Dr. Loredoctor, PhD, Esq, the Magnificent, First of his name, Second Cousin of Dragons, White-Gold-Plate Wielder!
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Hideo Nishi
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Post by Hideo Nishi »

Umishima lies just at the edge of sight from the coast of Northern Hokkaido. Patches of life grip tenuously between the rocks, mere weeds clasping at the stones which confine, and twisting restlessly from the cold tempests which assail them. Barren, slate-black, and howling against northern winds, the island was not meant for creatures of thought and purpose. Only where the wind can not send them back into the ocean does life thrive – thick, knotted clumps of oily sea-weed heaving with the tides, a thousand scrabbling hands trying to latch onto the rocks in unthinking desperation.

The island itself can only be reached when the seas are calm, Okhostk crashes around Umishima, a seemingly murderous intent to rage and annihilate, to drown and consume. One day, perhaps, Umishima will vanish below the surface, forever gone from the horizon it haunts.


Hideo clicked off his Dictaphone, noting a lull in the winds, and began to set his camera for a few more shots of the old shack. The lull in the sea’s fury would mean he could be ready to leave the next day, provided he got the photos he needed. More importantly, the still air meant he could light another Mild Seven.

An assignment with Neko Publishing had brought Hideo to Umishima. The Islands of Japan – a coffee table art book, showcasing still photos of the lesser known land-masses of the great nation, strictly intended for a limited edition release to wealthy clients of Neko for next Christmas. Hideo didn’t care for the project, but it was money. Using Umishima for a subject was Hideo’s idea; he pitched it to Chairman Karaitu on the basis of novelty. Fishermen only sometimes came to the island, if they were caught in dangerous weather, or if they needed somewhere to rest and repair for a few days. A few shacks dotted the eastern coast but no-one was currently staying in them. Not anyone alive.

Someone else was here, though. Someone Hideo had been trying to avoid.

On the first day in Umishima, after the boat over had left, Hideo had found the body. A fisherman, whose boat must have been swept away, had been murdered amongst the rocks, probably a night or two before. His throat had been bashed out with a jagged rock – the evidence just metres from the corpse – and a wide spray of crimson coated the ground all about. A bloody handprint lay upon a black rock just to the side of the man’s face; narrow furrows trenched into the pools of congealed blood as if a dog had been licking at the mess.

Hideo had seen corpses before, from early days working as a police photographer on and off, but no crime scene had disturbed him so much as this one. He told himself that it was just because he knew the killer must still be hiding on the island (lest he had escaped in the fisherman’s boat), yet he could not shake the feeling that the murder had an utterly unnatural element. When he saw a hunched figure in a yellowed and torn kimono, dancing across the rocks in the night and howling back at the tumult of the sea and sky, Hideo knew he shared this temporary residence with someone so unhinged they could barely be thought of as human anymore. That night he had left his tent unpitched, and hidden in a shallow cave mouth far from where the corpse had been.

And now, regarding an old weather-worn shack draped in stolen sails, Hideo knew he had found the lair of the madman. One more night’s concealment from the hunchback in flapping yellow was an improbable enough prospect to make Hideo decide that he had to somehow try to confine the madman. Taking a few photos of the exterior, the photographer dismantled his tripod to use as a makeshift club. With one hand wound in tent rope, and the other clutching the tripod, Hideo began the descent to the shack.
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Post by Hideo Nishi »

Intermingled with the revulsion at the unearthly odour of his surroundings, and the fear of confronting a dangerous killer, Hideo felt as if washed in warm relief. Though his bladder felt as frozen as ice from the anticipation of harm, he knew that he beheld a dead man, and his trepidation quickly left him.

Inside the decrepit shack were little but heaps of old rags, a few bones – broken and in small heaps; a twisted man, his body contorted from deformity, and his yellowed-kimono covering his face like a funeral shroud. No breath stirred from his lifeless lungs.

Stooping in the doorway, where only a small arch of the sunlight slunk in, Hideo placed the tripod and rope to one side and brought his camera to his eyes. A few clicks were enough to see that the light in the shack was inadequate. Every conceivable crack and hole had been stuffed full of rags to prevent any illumination from creeping in. Sighting a thick piece of sail nailed into the wood over a window, the photographer crept in and began to pull the canvas free.

The makeshift blind was stubborn so, turning to give it his full strength, Hideo pulled at either side of the sail, tugging harder when he heard the nails tearing at the material. Gritting his teeth and bracing one foot against the wall, Hideo pulled with every last scrap of energy he could muster. As the sail gave way, he fell back to the feet of the corpse, sunlight flooded into the whole interior and an unholy wail of agony erupted.

Hideo jumped with shock and spun to see the corpse rising and clawing against the light, the whole skin of the man tensing as if it had been immersed in a fire. The man was hideous – malformed in equal proportion to the revulsion which its own eyes regarded the sun. Oily hair hung in clumps across a dirt-strewn face; the worm-eaten kimono flapped indecently about its hunched wearer. With a back bent unnaturally forward, one arm contorted permanently upwards and half the length of the other, a curled foot splayed like a duck’s - the man seemed barely human. Only moments before, Hideo would have sworn the thing was dead.

But the sun was searing the skin of the piteous creature – blisters were erupting upon the pale flesh, even as the skin cindered and flaked off in ashen sheets. Hideo had no idea what was occurring, though he could see the light was killing the man, he grabbed hold of the hunchback and tried to throw him to a more dimly lit corner. Yet the man lashed out at the freelance, a now black and clawed hand battered savagely at his jacket. Hideo went flying, his head knocking into the window ledge and blood instantly gushing from his scalp across his face.

The howl of agony turned into baleful delight as white eyes in burnt skin locked onto the rushing crimson. It was short-lived. As the thing lunged at Hideo, flame consumed its entire form, in a blinding instant, flesh became fire, muscle and sinew turned to ash, and the bones which lurched reaching for life stood just an instant before collapsing into dust.

Hideo fled, overcome by horror and revulsion, voiding his stomach into the grasping weeds.

Half an hour went by before he turned back to regard the shack. Calming himself with a Mild Seven, he checked his camera was still intact and re-entered the abode to see what he could discover.
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Post by Loredoctor »

The shack interior was in such a poor state - the walls were rotting with mold, and it stank of something old and decaying. There was little of value here, apart from a salt-damaged leather-bound book. The book's mouldy pages were covered in tiny writing - as though tiny insects had run across the yellowing paper leaving ink trails. It was written in Japanese . . .

Of Old Kings and Endless Nights

. . . I have tracked the last king. He resides in Lordenshaw city. Feasts on blood of men and the undying after he has brought about a revolution . . . the last king has watched as others destroyed his kin, smiling. Every aware that in the other world lurks the First Hunger . . . These fiends that burst at the touch of sunlight - vampires - dance away into eternity, playing their dead games . . . Lordenshaw city, where the last king watches this Requiem. Where he waits.

. . . I leave for the city tomorrow, but first I need to deal with the thing on Umishima . . .
Waddley wrote:your Highness Sir Dr. Loredoctor, PhD, Esq, the Magnificent, First of his name, Second Cousin of Dragons, White-Gold-Plate Wielder!
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Post by Hideo Nishi »

Since returning to Tokyo, Hideo had barely slept a few hours each night. The phone had been ringing off the hook constantly – the President of Neko had been trying to arrange a meeting to discuss some of the photos and what had happened; the publishers weren’t sure if they wanted to print photos of an island which had just come into the news over a murder. The photographer had been called by a dozen of the news companies he’d done work for over the years. They had gotten word about the remains of a dead fisherman he had reported to the authorities. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to talk to them about it, no surer than whether he’d done the right thing by not reporting that other dead body.

The middle of the night had come and, in the neon-lit streets below, the lonely, the destitute, the in-love, and the sleepless intermingled without touching or talking. Hideo had never felt comfortable with many people, it was part of the reason he preferred to stay free-lance. His late wife had understood him, though she was a decade gone, and he sometimes had trouble remembering whether he had understood her. Looking down at the late-night stragglers, he felt a strange affinity he usually suppressed.

Thoughts of the island returned and he went back inside and thumbed through the journal again. Lordenshaw city. It had been a long while since he had been there – a semester exchange a couple of decades ago in college. He had made some decent contacts via his work over the years, though. Making some enquiries might not be too difficult.

Outside, a scream pierced the night. An image of a hungry, dirt-strewn face baring white fangs and unchecked-malice flooded into Hideo’s mind and a cold chill ran through him. He dashed on to the balcony and searched for the commotion. Outside an internet café some youths were laughing. A girl, one of their group, had almost been tipped into some garbage for a laugh. There was no fiend lurking in the alleys tearing at the throats of innocents. No creature from legend murdering the unwary to sustain its own soul-less existence. Not tonight. But back on Umishima

[OOC – Hideo will spend the next week investigating old news reports and so on. He will start by calling the authorities near Umishima to ascertain who the murdered fisherman was, and then he will research stories in Japan which strike him as being possibly linked or similar to what he witnessed on the island. Finally, he will call his contacts in Lordenshaw and ask for any information they have on any similar cases. His excuse will be that he is just researching for a book on Crimes of the Underground he’ll be taking photos for. However, he will doggedly try to uncover any information which might help him discover what Requiem means in the context of Lordenshaw]
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Post by Loredoctor »

From: Matuo Tirishimi <madman1001@comstar.com.ld>
Subject: Information

Hello Nishi,
I hope things are well for you. Did you hear that Tommy Do Chung got married two weeks ago? Who would have thought?

Anyway. A friend of mine - a lecturer (Doctor Ronalds) at Howell University contacted me and passed on some information, saying that you might be interested. I know you aren't too interested in work on the East Coast, but let me tell you about what I was told. It seems there have been some strange stuff happening in this city.

Two years ago we had some big battle between the Russian mafia gangs. Involved the police and the FBI here. Some big shot got arrested - Mikhailov - and placed in gaol. Fifty years for all sorts of convictions. Now, Dr Ronalds did some digging and it turned out that on the night of the BIG conflict, a lot of bodies were brought to the main hospital here. The thing is, there were around 100, but only ten were buried. Where did the rest go? The doctor thinks they were either disposed secretly, or they weren't dead. Not witness protection; the doctors at the hospital were told to leave the morgue alone. But one doctor had a look - the other ninety were alive, he claims. He saw a group of people take these ones away in trucks. He was told not to tell anyone, and then he vanished. Ronalds would like you to look into this, as he heard about your work. He says he will pay the flight ticket.

Regards,

Tirishimi
Waddley wrote:your Highness Sir Dr. Loredoctor, PhD, Esq, the Magnificent, First of his name, Second Cousin of Dragons, White-Gold-Plate Wielder!
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Post by Hideo Nishi »

'Please accept my humblest apologies, Mr President'.

Hideo Nishi pushed the portfolio across the table to just within the reach of the President of Neko's personal assistant. The folder was packed full to the brim with photos of the island, and neatly tied with string. There were a few photos missing, though noone but the photographer would have known that.

Careful to sit himself straightly in the chair before looking at the President again, he waited for a reply. There was none. The President had a slight smile on his face, as if he were waiting for the punchline.

Hideo, feeling out of sorts in his old suit and tie, nodded slightly. 'You will accept them, then?'

The President began to say something; flustered and taken aback that Nishi-san had been sincere, he spluttered half a word. Hideo nodded again and repeated without emphasis: 'They are yours to keep and to publish. Accept them as an apology that I will not be doing any more contract work for Neko in the foreseeable future. I do not wish for payment from my work on Umishima'. The very idea of turning profit from that ill-fated place made Hideo uneasy.

Fifteen minutes later, he was at the base of the Neko tower, hailing a cab home. There was a flight to catch in the afternoon. He was on his way to America, packing nothing but his camera, clothes, the photos he had added into his Incubus folder, and a satchel of bare necessities. He had no idea if Tirishimi's email was anything solid, or if Dr Ronalds might just be unhinged, but he felt a dread growing in his heart which he had to dispel.
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Post by Loredoctor »

Cars streaked past in the night, their lights flooding the street in red and white, with bright neon signs reflecting off their wet hoods. A storm was lashing the city, and despite the danger, the traffic surged through the wind and rain as though trying to escape the black, violent clouds.

Rain pelted the taxi windscreen, and the drumming against the roof almost drowned out the driver's words. "No flights right now," he said as he overtook a red car. "But the radio says that the storm will pass in a few hours, and then you should be able to fly."

Eventually, the rain lessened as predicted by the radio. The taxi drove up a ramp connecting a city road to a highway. A sign lit up by a fitful grey light revealed that they were headed towards the airport, twenty kilometers away.

The driver turned around. "People have no idea how to travel. Some guy in a white car has been driving too close to me the last twenty minutes."
Waddley wrote:your Highness Sir Dr. Loredoctor, PhD, Esq, the Magnificent, First of his name, Second Cousin of Dragons, White-Gold-Plate Wielder!
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Post by Hideo Nishi »

'Oh? Hmmm.' Hideo nodded politely, pretending to pass the comment off as small-talk. He didn't want to look around and appear nervous, though he was.

His work would sometimes involve a small level of risk, and he wasn't a stranger to being followed - either by rivals or people who didn't like where he took his photos. He didn't miss his days taking photos of the Balkans War.

'Ah,' Hideo leaned forward from the backseat and spoke with the cab driver. 'No need to rush'.

He sat back and wondered who might be in that white car. Someone from Neko, maybe? A last minute offer? Something told him it wasn't that simple - he wondered with a little apprehension whether this had to do with the island.

He thumbed a Mild Seven, lighting it up and hoping his driver wouldn't mind.
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The taxi eventually arrives at the airport, slowing to a stop amid a busy rush of hundreds of other vehicles and people. Overhead, a plane streaks low across the cloudy sky.

As the driver opens the boot and takes out Hideo's luggage, the car that had been following the taxi stops behind them. Hideo can see that there are two people in the vehicle, and one of them opens a door and steps out.

A short, Chinese male with a perpetual frown and wide, analytical eyes closes a door, adjusting his white suit with nervous hands. He scans the crowd of people arriving and departing, and then nods to himself. Again he adjusts his suit, walking over to Hideo and the driver as he does so.

"Hideo Nishi," he says with a small and polite bow. "I hope I have not confused you with someone else. My name is Xiong. Simply, Xiong."
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Post by Hideo Nishi »

Hideo returned the bow. In an effort to not be impolite, he kept his eyes firmly on the Chinese man. This wasn't quite what Hideo was expecting. A certain level of relief loosened his posture.

'I'm Nishi. Greetings Xiong-san. How may I be of help?'
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Post by Loredoctor »

Xiong smiled and then looked around. He stepped closer to Hideo and placed a firm hand on his upper back. As though to offset alarm for his breach of social etiquette, the Chinese man smiled broadly at him. "Yes, you can be of help. Great help. Please step this way, Nishi-san."

Xiong walked with Hideo towards the international terminal - passing by hundreds of commuters and several security staff, walking around piles of luggage and not a few shimmering pools of rainwater. When the pair reached the terminal interior, the man stepped back and nodded.

"It is fortunate that I have been able to reach you before you leave for the United States. Yet, I hope we . . . I will not inconvenience you. You work, that is, you photography is exceptional; both in the technical use of the medium and the content. We are more interested in content." He finished the sentence with a meaningful look.

A group of people passed - some loud Americans and a drunken Australian - and Xiong stood silent, occasionally looking at Hideo with a curious expression. When the group passed, he continued. "I present you with a camera - one belonging to a - now deceased - Chinese friend of mine. I think you should keep it. Second, I give you a lucky charm. If I were you I would keep it on your person at all times. For luck." Xiong laughed hollowly.

Xiang handed Hideo a package containing the items. The camera was a modern SLR, but with strange silver etch work covering the sides and face. A golden rim surrounded the lens. There was also a pendant - a ruby surrounded by disk of bronze with radiating silver lines. Xiang then looked at the arrival and departure register.

"Forgive me, for I have burdened you," again the meaningful look. "It appears that you should be boarding your flight within the hour. Do not worry about customs; they will not look into your belongings. You have my word."

The man bowed and then walked away. Immediately, three pale faced figures joined him from the crowd and escorted him out of the terminal.

"Passengers for flight JA122, please check in. I repeat, Passengers . . . "
Waddley wrote:your Highness Sir Dr. Loredoctor, PhD, Esq, the Magnificent, First of his name, Second Cousin of Dragons, White-Gold-Plate Wielder!
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Post by Hideo Nishi »

The pendant danced a little in the bright glow of flourescent lights in the airport interior. Hideo held it up to get a better look and, feeling a little obvious, he cupped it in his hands instead. He had no concrete idea who this Chinese man really was, though he could not help but think it was somehow connected with Umishima, or with his trip to Loredenshaw city.

The freelance slipped the pendant around his neck, feeling it fall into place with an underwhelming slip. There was no harm in wearing the item, after all, it was only a piece of jewellery.

Wondering if it was true that customs would give him no problems, Hideo packed the new camera in his bag and proceeded to check in.

The America of his youth was not a too unpleasant place, despite all their crass and unsubtle ways, Hideo had found most gaijin to be bearable. Yet he thought little of the novelty or unease of travelling to a foreign place; and thought more of the dark world of night which was encroaching upon him.
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Post by Loredoctor »

Some time later, the airport makes another announcement regarding Hideo's flight. Some people start striding towards the customs gate.

The time had come for the freelance photographer to board his flight.

This marks the end of the Japan chapter.

1xp for roleplaying.
Waddley wrote:your Highness Sir Dr. Loredoctor, PhD, Esq, the Magnificent, First of his name, Second Cousin of Dragons, White-Gold-Plate Wielder!
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