Chapter 3

Living Hell

 

                Dreams.  They’re what children often talk about, how pleasant and carefree they can be, but these dreams were not of those childhood tales.  The happy, bright colors rotted into hardly any color at all, and whatever remained, should have been left forever unseen. 

            A demon with eyes of fire and spiky, unkempt hair flew around Hisoka on a plain of absolute darkness.  Only the fires that surrounded the beast lit a portion of the bleak area, enough to see the bones, skulls, and pools of blood all about his feet.  The beast was so huge and grotesque and yet it looked somewhat human.  It had the claws and teeth like a wolf and still its eyes shone with a tinge of human knowledge, as if they meant to say “I’ve been there before, once long ago.”  But then the demon cast away any remaining human emotion to tightly grab a hold of his prisoner’s fragile mind. 

            “This is the land of death, Hisoka,” spoke the demon from high up in the splintered sky.  “No one can escape from this hell, especially you, precious one…”  He pointed a clawed hand from which bright bolts of lightning shot down to where Hisoka stood motionless.  There was nothing he could do.

 

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            Suddenly jerking awake with tears rolling down his face, Hisoka cautiously looked from side to side to find out where he was.  What was that dream he just had?  He felt so very warm as if he had been walking in a desert all day and yet he was shivering cold.  The anxiety from the dream still clutched his being and he couldn’t forget it.  He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and angrily swiped the tears away.  He was so helpless in the dream, like a child lost in a wild crowd with nowhere to turn; he was determined not to be such in this reality.

            Slowly he began to calm down.  As he looked around some more, he became more aware that it was his own bedroom that he was in but he couldn’t recall ever coming here.  And then it hit him all over again.  With both the appearance of the dream and the sudden visions that flooded his brain while he spoke with Sakura in the park made it obviously clear that something weird was definitely happening to him.  It felt as if he was losing all sense of reality, slipping into the vast pit of endless darkness… like the sphere of eternal midnight that he found himself within the dream.  The visions of the cliff were still very unclear to him, but the dream was different.  As he recalled the face of the demon, the one who seemed to rule over the bleak terrain, Hisoka felt as if he knew that person some way or another.  The beast he saw was hardly human; it was an entity of hatred and anger alone, taking the form of an animal cross-between.  It looked human from a distance, but as Hisoka continued to remember, the beast looked more like a wolf or a wild cat with its eyes focused only on death and decay.  Not a drop of compassion could be found within those crystalline infernos.  The more he caught his gaze falling into the swirl of fire there, the deeper he felt himself lose control, like falling off a cliff…

            Some time must have gone by since he talked with Sakura in the park.  As he quickly stood from his bed, the same dancing mist started to fill his eyes once more.  Crashing unsteadily against the small wooden dresser beside his bed, he tried to blink the fog from his eyes.  That same feeling of anxiety mixed with a sense of helplessness flooded over him.  What was happening to him?  Nothing made sense any more.  There was no good reason why all these visions and dreams should have come to the surface, unless there was something in his past that he tried so hard to forget.  Was the fall from the cliff so severe that every memory of it fell into the same darkness as his dream?  And Kataki; they were classmate rivals!  Why couldn’t he remember that?  Somehow whatever tragedy happened in 7th grade crippled Kataki from ever playing sports again.  If he was so gravely injured, then how could Hisoka walk away from it with only a small scar on his left wrist?

            “You look confused.”

            Looking up from the dresser as he slowly sat back down on the bed, he saw his mother step into the room with that same look on her face.  Would that expression ever change?  Well, definitely not at this rate.

            “Yeah… I am,” Hisoka replied, raising a hand to his head.  It was starting to spin again, and the voices… they were faint, yet he still could hear them.  He turned his glance away.  “I don’t know what’s going on.”

            Hisoka’s mother, bent on only helping her son and not to worry or annoy him, smiled reassuringly.  She sat with a sigh next to him and held his left hand.  His hand was hot and sweaty.  Ever since he was a little child, he had always been overly warm-blooded.  There were days when he frequented the local hospital due to extreme fevers that no doctor had ever seen before, temperatures reaching the high 120’s.  And through it all, his mother sat by his side, alone.  She was here for him now, too, just as she was every other time in the past.  But this time, there was nothing that she could do to him calm this fever.  Nothing could.

            “Oh, Hisoka…  What happened today?  Some girl from your school called me early this morning and told me you had collapsed.  This has never happened before.  Do you think you’re catching ill?”

            He knew what it was.  It was his own memory, forgotten and lost, that was making him ill.  Even trying to uncover more of the fragmented pieces of his memory sent horrific shocks of pain through his soul, ceasing any further exploration until the sensation faded.  Not only was his mind fighting to keep the past a secret, but his body followed the command of his mind to keep the key hidden.  Or perhaps it was something else that held the truth from him.  He highly doubted that his mother knew anything, but it was worth a try.  Either he could attempt to discover the truth or he would go insane trying.

            “No, I’m not sick…  I’ve just been seeing some weird things.”

            “Seeing things?”

            Hisoka nodded, feeling his mother’s grasp on his hand tighten.  “Today when I was walking to school and walked past the Hokage house, I noticed a splintered cherry tree in their yard.  Somehow that triggered something in my memory that I can’t recall, but I have a feeling I might know what it is.  This girl I met today also has a brother, Kataki.  She said that we knew each other, but I couldn’t remember him.  We’re supposed to be rivals, but I couldn’t remember!  Do you know anything about this?”

            When he spoke Kataki’s name before, his mother’s hand flinched and she caught herself looking away.  She had to know something! 

            “Hisoka… you really don’t remember anything, do you?”

            Feeling the anger well up inside of him, he scowled at her and said, “If I could remember, do you think I’d be asking you all these questions?  I don’t know!  She mentioned something about 7th grade and about some accident that happened then.  What was she talking about, mom?”  He raised his left arm and showed her the scar.  “How did this happen?”

            All was silence.  Hisoka’s mother appeared to be thinking, but he was in no mood to wait for her to think of something to change the subject like she always does.  Then just before Hisoka stood up and walked out of the room, she lowered her head as if to cry and began to tell the story.

            “It was your 7th year in school, and you were 13 years old.  During a day in September, your class went on a field trip to the Sukuba mountain range.  It was the perfect class trip, they said.  Everyone was enjoying their time there, walking through the paths of trees.  They even had some kind of orientation game.  Mrs. Sanders told me that you were unnatural in founding your way through the woods, leading your group to victory.”  She laughed, proud to be able to tell the story after so long, through seemingly endless agony from the thought.  “But then during another game, your group split up somehow and only Kataki was left with you.  You two wandered through the forest, trying to search for the group meeting place, but you couldn’t find it.  They said that Kataki was getting furious with having to follow you around, so he decided to go off on his own.  That’s when he lost his footing along the side of the mountain.  He was able to keep himself from falling by holding onto a small root on the side of the ledge for a short while.  Then you reached down and grabbed his arm.  Kataki was already quite a distance down the cliff.  That’s how your arm was scarred, while you reached down to save him.  But the branch that you held onto with your other hand broke, and there was nothing you could do.  You both fell and were gravely injured.  Kataki suffered the use of his right hand and partial use of his leg as well, whereas you…  They said you seemed to have escaped death by a narrow margin, but you were in a coma for almost four months afterwards.”

            Four months?  How could that be?  Why couldn’t he remember any of this?  For the past two weeks or more, these missing periods of time have been plaguing his thoughts, especially after the lightning struck near his home…  Everything seemed to be centered around that one incident; too many, in fact, to be coincidence.  But the pieces of the puzzle still didn’t add up.  If the lightning experience indeed triggered some lost memory of the past, then why was he having these dreams, hearing the screams of a dozen or more lost souls in the back of his mind?  From the story his mother told him, he understood how the splintered cherry tree tied into everything, how it too held a small portion of Hisoka’s forgotten memory.  Then again, how or why would these images of the past suddenly start to come to the surface?  Why now?  Why not years ago, after he recovered from the accident five years past? 

He still felt uneasy about this topic and yet he was too tired to care.  Moments ago, before his mother spoke of the field trip, he was ready to walk out of the room and find something useful to keep his mind off of things.  But now he felt so wasted, as if he was left wandering around in a desert with no hope of escape ahead of him.  He wanted out of this world, out of the constant reminder that something was severely wrong with him.  All he wanted was to escape from this world’s pain and regret, and whatever else there was he couldn’t remember.  Again the vision of the dream filled his head.  In a fast swoop, the darkness again fell over him.

 

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            Boring, boring, boring!  Why did the days have to be so boring?  Sitting around the office was never so much fun, but at least there were live people walking the halls instead of this massive emptiness!  Kaori sat, staring at the ceiling from her computer station within the Psychiatric Center for the Millennium.  She had already counted all the dots on the ceiling tiles and she needed to find something else to occupy her time.  Sitting up again, she glared into her computer screen while she nervously tapped her fingernails on the desk, eager to make any sound at all to fill the empty air.  But then jumped with a start.  The phone was ringing!

            Pouncing upon the black phone beside her station, she swiftly picked up the receiver as if she had been expecting a call from some fancy company that handed out millions and millions of dollars every year. 

            “Hello, PCM, this is Kaori speaking.  How may I help you?”  Her voice was harsh from a lack of usage the past few days while all the other doctors were away on business.  A tang of jealousy sounded in her voice as she spoke.  “Yes?  Oh, hello again, Aiko.  How have you been?  It’s been what?  Almost five years since I spoke with you last.  Uh-huh.  Ohh, no.  I’m sorry.  What seems to be the problem?  Yes, I remember.  He was lucky to survive.  Calm down, it’ll be all right.  Just tell me what’s the matter.  Visions and voices, huh?  ………I see.  Well, things are running a bit slow here, so I’m glad you called.  I’ll be right over, okay?  Just relax.  I’ll be right over.  Hm-mm, right.  Bu-bye.”

            With a sort sigh hissing out of her small body, she hung up the phone.  Five years.  Could it possibly take that long to fully recover from that sort of accident?  Five years and the memories keep coming back.  Or maybe her suspicions had been correct and that the source of these memories came from much further back in time.  But besides all that, she finally found something to waste…or spend her time rather then wasting away little by little in this tiny cubicle of an office.  She happily packed her books into a brown, leather bag, carried it over her shoulder, and turned off the power to her computer with the press of a button.  And off she was to work on her most favorite case: the case of lost destinies.

 

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            Again Hisoka was hurled into the despairing darkness of that dream, surrounded by nothing but death and chaos.  He stood in the center of a large open area with no sight of shelter or a place to hide anywhere.  If that demon came back again, what would happen?  What would he do next?

            Hisoka didn’t want to wait around to find out, either.  Glancing in all directions, he saw an odd looking piece of land jutting out of the ground on a 45 degree angle.  It looked like it was part of a mountain side, but it was too narrow and too sudden to be a mountain.  Plus, it wasn’t nearly that high.  In any case, he knew there would be at least a small area under the structure to hide if the demon chose to show his face again.  As he ran to the side of the mountain, he heard a loud noise, rumbling in the distant sky.  He knew he had to run, but his legs froze.  He couldn’t move even if he wanted to, even if his life depended on it.  He stood looking up at the hellish figure in the sky as it approached rapidly, the sounds of its laughter echoing on the lifeless air. 

Popping out of a reddish-gray cloud, the same demon as before plummeted to the ground below and landed on his two feet as delicately as a cat.  The demon, stretching his massive arms over his head, yawned tiredly, as if he was bored of the constant run-around.  Turning his gaze upon the helpless human, he casually began to walk nearer.  Bones and other unidentified body parts crushed under his feet as he stepped closer and closer until they were face to face.  Hisoka swallowed uneasily and stared defiantly into the beast’s glowing red eyes.

The demon grinned.  “Why have you come back so soon, Hisoka?  Do you enjoy me torturing you?  You know that is all you will find in this world, for there is nothing else.  But I suppose there’s nothing you can do.  You are destined to die.”

Gaining a little more courage from his anger, Hisoka frowned, baring his own teeth as he spoke, “What are you talking about?  I don’t even know who you are!  Why are you always after me?”

“Why?  Why?”  The demon turned away, laughing uncontrollably.  “You really don’t know who I am?  Hahaha, that’s rich.  Hmhmhm…”

Confused to say the least, Hisoka stared at the beast, nearly on the ground from laughing so hard.  He saw this was his chance to escape.  Breaking into a sprint, Hisoka headed for the base of the rock sticking out of the ground. 

“Hahahahaha!”  The demon continued to laugh even as he stood, watching Hisoka frantically run away.  “Do you honestly think you can run from me?  Heeheehee…”  This was going to be a fun game.  Beginning to run after Hisoka, the demon tossed streaks of lightning one after the other at the human.  The grin on his demonic face showed how much he enjoyed tormenting him. 

Running as fast as he could as he dodged the flying streaks of blue left and right, Hisoka still aimed for the small area under the ledge.  And this the demon knew.  Out of any other place in this bleak world, that would be Hisoka’s main target. 

The blasts of lightning suddenly subsided as Hisoka approached the giant rock ledge.  He didn’t dare look back to see what the demon was doing; he didn’t want to look at that wicked face again if he didn’t have to.  But then again, his sanctuary was right before him.  As he stepped under the shadows of the ledge, Hisoka slammed his back against the cold rock and slid down the side of it to the dusty ground below.  Was it safe here?  He was too tired to care or wonder about it, but he couldn’t stop himself from looking back the way he had come.  The monster that chased him to this place was no where in sight.  That uncertainty was the worst feeling.  It crept up the base of his spine and sent a chill all through his soul. 

Then he felt a sharp pang in his right side along with the sound of piercing flesh.  A surge of pain griped him better than demon ever could have, and as he looked down to see what it was, he found a small dagger lodged into his side.  Frightened just by the sight of it, Hisoka instinctively gripped the blade to pull it out, the feel of his warm blood dripping down his hands making him sick.  The weapon was in deep, only the golden hilt in the shape of a dragon’s out-stretched wings remained in view.  And as he slowly removed the blade, he could hear the demon laughing nearby, his harsh voice like a dozen more knives piercing through his body.  He took the weapon and looked at it.  It looked somehow familiar with its golden glimmer, and the blood…  How many times have he seen this sight before— a bloody dagger…  It was like a reoccuring nightmare of which he could not escape, and as far as he knew, the blood dripping down his side was real.  The pain, the fear, the agony; they were all real, even the demon.  How could something so evil exist in the world?  But he had said that this was the world of the dead.  Anything could happen.

He felt himself weaken from the blow, his breath harder to grasp than before.  He didn’t know what to do, whether to run and find shelter elsewhere or to stay put and endure the wound in his side.  If he stayed here for too long, he’d surly bleed to death.  But still all he could do was lean against the side of the stone slab, waiting for the demon’s next move. 

“How’s it feel?”  The voice came from inside the rock’s surface. 

With nothing more to do than to sit still, holding his side painfully, Hisoka looked around.  There was no sign of the demon anywhere and yet he could feel his presence nearby.  Then all of a sudden, something from behind him grasped a hold of his neck, strangling him as he was forced to stand.  He fought to break free of the demon’s grip with his two redened hands.  But he was too weak and the demon that amerged from the rock’s inner core was far too powerful for him to withstand let alone overcome.  With a mere flip of the rist, Hisoka went flying through the air, out into the open plain of death.

Landing hard on his stomach, the wind knocked out if him, he fought to catch his breath as the dust scuffled up from his fall arose in the air.  Weakly propping himself up, he saw the feet of the demon right in front of him.  Quickly looking up at the beast, Hisoka again froze with the one thought running through his brain:  There’s nothing you can do.  There’s nothing you can do.  You are destined to die.

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