[IC] You Are Dead

[Midori]

An unassuming summer day in a quaint little town, that's all it was to Hitomi. Life had been roughly the same for her ever since she took over her foster father's book store. The sign on the front of the building read "Sato Books", not the most imaginative name but it stood out among the others since it was plastered in big red kanji. The store itself was at the end of the second busiest road in town but most people passsed it by. The age of reading books was slowly giving way to the internet where people had access to limitless amounts of information at a single click. As the only book store left in town she still recieved a modest amount of customers each day, although most of those were only interested in the Manga section which had grown to twice it's original size since she introduced it shortly after being given ownership. As the second story was a modest living area with all the essentials Sato Books was also her home. It was rather convenient actually, she only had one set of bills to manage and her morning commute was only a flight of stairs. Hitomi loved this store, it was the only thing left of her family that still remained. She learned a few years ago that both of her biological parents had died in a car accident while on vacation in Osaka. Despite the years of abuse she endured they were still family and so the wounds cut deep.

The day dragged on with only the occasional customer wandering in to pick up an order or browse the latest manga. Some might look at her life as boring but she actually rather enjoyed the peace and quiet that came with slow business, it gave her time to catch up on her own reading. Given that she didn't actually have any friends Hitomi had read just about every book in her store. It was a sad thought actually, but at least she could recommend books for her customers. Reading was her outlet, it let her explore vast new worlds far from the grief and troubles of her mundane existence. She often found herself reading romance novels with heroes braving unimaginable odds in the name of love, sadly she never expected for anything like that to happen to her. Most of the town new about the freak book store owner and only tolerated her because she owned the only bookstore in town. No one ever seemed to take an interest in her and only gave empty gestures of kindness. She was different and she accepted that. Despite her isolation she never gave anyone anything but a feeble smile. After all, it was pointless to make enemies since they already saw her as an outcast.

Later that day she had a pair of customers who lingered in the store for an unusually long time. Hitomi recognized one of them was clearly from out of town. They kept glancing over at her as if trying to discern some kind of secret from here. She decided to let them be and simply wait for them to take their time browsing. No need to cause a stir since they weren't actually doing anything wrong. Eventually they came up to the counter. The one she didn't recognize spoke up first. "This is the one you were talking about right? I can't tell." He was talking to his friend about her but she wasn't sure what he meant. The other spoke. "Yeah this is him, the ladyboy." The words cut like a knife. Did they really have to talk about her while she was right there? They continued among themselves while ignoring her. Hitomi tried her best not to seem upset but her smile was gone. "Pretty hot for a dude. You sure you're not messing with me?" The other retorted. "I'm serious man, she's a he." Hitomi wanted to them to leave but she didn't want to antagonize them. "Uhm... Can I help you find a book?" The newcomer looked at her in surprise. "Holy crap he even sounds like a girl!" After that they both laughed and left the store.

Later that week the two returned but this time they were much more bold. "Hey ladyboy! I bet you like it from behind right?" Hitomi couldn't bring herself to acknowledge them. She just wanted them to go away. "Hey bitch, I asked you a question!" They were getting louder and she wasn't sure what to do. She couldn't go anywhere to get away from them and it was obvious they weren't going anywhere either. Before she could say anything they had gone behind the store counter and pushed her against the wall. "Hey take it easy man." one spoke to the other clearly uncomfortable with the situation. "Shut up you pansy. No one's gonna miss this freak." Her heart skipped a beat. What was this man going to do to her? The saddest part was that she believed him. Would anyone miss her if she disappeared? Her family had all passed away and she had no extended family or siblings. No one at all.

The one pinning her to the wall spoke up. "If you wanna be a girl so bad why don't I show you what it's like to be a real girl?" This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening! She had to get away but how? The other one was starting to play along. "Yeah okay. Let's show her what it's like." Hitomi started to panic and managed to break free but instead of running on to the street where others might have seen her she instinctively ran for her bedroom and tried to lock the door behind her. The two of them were tight behind, however, and forced their way in. "Stay away!" She pleaded but neither of them seemed to care. They pushed her onto the floor and she started grabbing at anything in reach to throw at them. She came across a hard cover book and threw it with all her might at her attackers landing squarely on the closest one's nose. "Oww, you bitch! I was gonna show you a good time but now I'm gonna teach you a lesson!" Without hesitation the closest one swung at her, punching her solidly in the cheek. The punches continued and Hitomi was less and less coherent each time. The entire experience was traumatic. Hitomi simply froze, unable to resist any further. She kept getting weaker and barely let out an apology "I'm sorry." The beating continued and she could feel her face being cut from the sheer force of the blows. The second attacker seemed to have had enough and tried to pull the other off of her. "That's enough man, take it easy!"

They began fighting each other instead until one of them had gotten knocked into a wall. Hitomi was in a lot of pain and bleeding on the floor so she couldn't tell much of what was going on. She heard a loud crash and then her attackers seemed to both stop. "Oh shit man let's get out of here quick!" Hitomi was too weak to get up and look around but she recognized the sound of her smoke detector and soon after the smell of burning wood. She struggled to get up but could only muster enough to look around with her already bloodied vision. She knew what was happening. Somehow the two of them had started a fire in her house, it was starting to get hard to breathe and noticeably hotter. Eventually she could hear the flames roaring around her as she slowly lost consciousness. She knew this was the end. Hitomi lay there half awake and accepted her fate as her world burned down around her.

Somehow sometime later she awoke feeling groggy as if she had simply gone to bed. What was going on? Oh that's right, she died. Did that mean she was in heaven? Looking down at herself her clothes were black charred remnants of what she had been wearing that day. She supposed that, and the fact that she remembers how she died was proof enough that she was dead but then, she didn't feel like a dead spirit. Or did she? Hitomi realized that she was breathing. Do spirits breathe? She touched her face and she felt real enough. She could even tell that she was slightly hungry. Stranger still was the fact that she didn't seem to be in any pain and all of her old scars seemed to have disappeared as well. All of this made her question what was going on. She wasn't sure what to make of it all. She took a moment to absorb her surroundings.

She was situated sitting and leaning against a wall of what appeared to be an unusually sparse apartment living room. There weren't any chairs in the room or any kind of seats for that matter, in fact the only objects of any significance in the room was a large metal crate of some kind about a meter tall and wide situated near the far wall. On top of the odd looking crate sat a Toshiba laptop, it looked like a new model as well. Then there was the fact that she wasn't alone. Scattered about the room were a handful of different people. Two of them were women and looked like foreigners, the other was a man and clearly Japanese. Behind her to her right led to the front door of the apartment, behind her on her left was a door that she could only assume led to the main hall as there were no other doors in the living room area. On the wall to her right she could see two sets of windows that could see out into the city. Although Hitomi couldn't see it from where she was sitting if someone were to look out the window they would see the Tokyo Tower in the distance. Uncertain of what to do Hitomi simply sat up and watched as the others seemed to be waking up as well. Maybe one of them might have some answers about what was going on.

[Kenny1]

"My good Imam the topic is whether or not a god is needed for the universe to exist." Arielle said into the microphone. She was standing at a podium across from the Imam of a local Mosque. The stage was very barren, as a debate need few props. The audience was mostly the followers of the Mosque, though there were a good number of people of other faiths as well.

She had initially not wanted to take the debate, after all his Mosque was very extremist and her coworkers had noted that it could be dangerous. Arielle had just laughed and said they were over reacting, religion may make people violent but never in a public debate surrounded by security. Even they weren't crazy enough to try a stunt on tv.

Pointing a blackboard covered in mathematical equations Arielle continued "As you can see according to quantum physics particles do jump from plane to plane, appearing as if they appeared out of nowhere."

"Who is to say Allah did not cause this to happen" Interrupted the noticeably annoyed Imam

"Well just think about it" Arielle replied with a smug smile "According to you Allah is required because every event must have a cause correct?"

The Imam nodded and Arielle continued "What then caused Allah to exist? Your scenario requires an unending number of creators to each cause the initial cause. You have claimed in the past that Allah has just always existed, but why not simply say the universe has always existed? Ocam's razor requires us to make as few assumptions as possible and I only require an assumption infinity is impossible, whereas you require many more beliefs..."

Before Arielle could finish her statement she stopped dead as a man in the front row, dressed in Saudi robes, jumped up on the stage with a nine inch knife in his right hand. Arielle screamed loudly but before she could do any more than flinch the bearded man had reached her, and plunged the knife deep into her stomach. She felt the cold steel shredding her body as warm blood poured from the opening, excruciating pain erupting and bringing stars to her eyes. She pushed back from the man, and managed to break his grip, just to fall on her back.

The whole crowd seemed to have begun to riot, blocking security as the supporters turned on the other side. Her followers trying to run to the stage and the opposition attacking them in turn. Before anything else could register the man was on top of her, pinning her between his legs. With a shriek she struggled but was soon cut off by the force of the knife slitting her throat open, followed by repeated stabs into her chest and stomach.

The overwhelming pain filled her thoughts as she struggled against the heavyset man. She could feel the weight of the man start being lifted, and through her cloudy vision made out a uniform. But that would be the last thing she would ever see, as she bled out on the floor she blacked out... and her heart gave one last thump.

____________________________________________________

Grogginess filled Arielle's head as her mind began waking. Her mind struggled like an old car trying to start, thoughts starting but never becoming coherent. Suddenly the fight came to her mind, the blood, the pain the man she sat up straight with a shriek. Looking up to fight the man but didn't see him. All she saw was a living room.

She blinked slowly as if trying to process what happened. 'Was it a dream?' she thought

Looking down she could see her blouse was horribly shredded, and stained bloody but no wounds could be seen on her body. Not even a scratch.

"I don't understand it" She said to herself "How is it possible for my clothes to be destroyed but my body fine?" She touched her stomach and could feel only the smoothness of the skin.

Leaning back in silence she stared at the ceiling, pondering this riddle, and not even noticing anything around her as she was lost in her own thoughts. Debating with herself over the merits of different ideas ranging from comas to PTSD, because she knew the pain had been real but other than that she couldn't understand it and wouldn't' stop until she did.

[Athinar]

Alexandria Graveson walked to her next classroom, class 3-A. It was her most enjoyable class, by far. While some of the first and a few of the second-year students didn't care as much, the Third-Year students had found their motivation in life. They were studying furiously for Final Exams here, and Entrance Exams at their universities of choice. She knew of at least two of the kids that she had inspired to go study at colleges abroad, even if they weren't necessarily in America. International experience was one of the most fulfilling things that a person could go through. She knew from personal experience.

Smiling as the students rose as she entered the room, they all greeted her with a bow. Bowing back, she said, "Good morning, class!" Placing her binder and folders on the podium at the front of the class, she said, "I hope you've been studying hard, because the Final Exams are next week!" The students let out an audible groan, but it was good-natured. They knew that Alexandria, their teacher, was doing the best that she could to teach them. Taking a stick of chalk, she wrote the assignment for today on the board, and pulled out a copy of Chaucer, and began reading. "Nowhere so busy a man as he than he, and yet he seemed busier than he was..."

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The second bell was about to ring, when the sliding door to her classroom was slammed open, revealing a ratty-looking man, who stumbled in. He had long hair, an unkempt beard, and fingerless gloves clasped a rusty knife. Alex's eyes widened as he started towards the first student in the row, Ogyu Ayame, a beautiful young girl, with a life of promise ahead of her. Shouting, "NO! GET BACK!", she pulled on the man from behind, and they stumbled towards the window. She had almost pushed him all the way towards the glass, when he whipped around, knocking her back. The students were moving now, trying to come and help. She shook her head and screamed for them to get back, and gasped when the blade slashed across her stomach, causing blood to pour. The tip of the knife came down again, sliding through her collarbone, and piercing her heart. Standing, through sheer force of will, in one last titanic movement, she shoved the man through the glass, shattering it, and causing him to fall to the courtyard below, body broken.

Alex then fell to the floor, curled up in a ball, blood pooling in the corner of the room. She saw her students, horrified, stand there for a second, and then rush towards her at once. When they got to her, she was already limp, eyes wide, a gentle smile on her face. Her last action was to offer her students a chance.

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Alex gasped, coughing, and held a hand to her chest. Rubbing her forehead, she looked around, wildly. Didn't she... die? Looking herself over, she saw two bloodstained cuts in her clothing, one just above her left breast, and the other across her stomach. She had felt the cuts. She had felt the pain. So why was she here? Staring at the room, she wondered, where was she? Spying a laptop in the middle of the room, on a crate, and seeing two other women, and one man, she lurched forward, stumbling in disbelief. Was this heaven? If so, it kinda sucked. Going up to the laptop, she tried to get a glimpse of what was on the screen, and see if she could contact someone, anyone from the school. Maybe her coworkers could tell her what happened.

[Firecracker_]

Sitting on the desk, Takeda simply stared at the ever-familiar wall. Pictures of faces littered the board, some Japanese, other not. Strings wrapped around nail connected various pieces of information all around. It all formed a frenzied web of connections and crimes spanning half the world. All sorts of men and women, from Kingpins to street hustlers, had their face plastered on the wall. Now all that was left to do was to find these monsters, and put them away in their own, lovely, barred cells. It was as if the huge weight on Takeda’s shoulders had gotten lighter, yet heavier at the same time. They had all the evidence they needed to take down a huge arm of international drug trade, and they had already put away a few key members, but now, they had a massive fight ahead of them. It could take months, years even, but in the end, it would all be worth it.

“Time to go home, detective.” A groggy voice from behind Takeda spoke. He turned to see his partner, Matsumoto, trench coat slung over his shoulder, ready to leave the office. Takeda turned back to the information board once more, and took a deep breath, standing from the desk. Takeda took his coat from his desk, and slung it over his shoulder in a similar fashion as Matsumoto, and walked towards the exit, his partner at his right.

“Get some sleep, Hitoshi. The hard work is over, now comes the hard part.” Matsumoto said to his partner, a tired smile stretch across his face.

“Yeah, I know, just… it’s important to me, you know?”

“I get you, Hitoshi, it's important to everyone at the office, but you’re working yourself to death. Just relax a little bit, eh? Take it easy, rest a bit. The next few weeks aren’t going to exactly be the easiest.”

“I hear you, I hear you.” Takeda said, giving into his friend.

“Listen to what I said.” Matsumoto said, his hands on Takeda’s shoulders.

Matsumoto gave Takeda one last pat on the shoulders, before he began walking in the opposite direction. Takeda sighed, and turned to walk his own way to find his car among the many in the dark parking garage. Thankfully for Takeda, his car was always parked in the same spot, next to the corner of the entire lot. Taking the keys out of his pocket, he pressed the lock button, with the lights and horn on the car following suit and flashing once, helping Takeda find his car.

Finally reaching the car, Takeda walked around the side to reach the driver’s side, when a weight pressed on his back, and his knees buckled. Someone had pinned him to the car, and before he could react, had pressed a rag to his face, restricting his breathing to inhaling the fumes the radiated from the rag. He held his breath, and his arms rushed to his hip to pull his .38 special revolver, scrambling to move his coat out of the way of the holster. Before he could do so, his entire body was yanked backwards, as his assailant had pulled back and landed back first on the ground. Takeda frantically tried to elbow his way away from his assailant, but his lungs could handle it no longer, and he finally took a deep breath. Quicker than he expected, a sudden dizziness had hit his body, and his squirming and fighting began to weaken. Another set of hands had come in and restricted his hands, and gave him a good kick to the side, knocking the breath out of him. Takeda tried to scream, but as soon as his mouth opened, the chloroformed rag was stuffed in his mouth, and a hand found his nose, and pinched it tightly shut. The strength was being sapped from him with each excruciating second that passed by. His fighting and kicking turned into weakened wiggling and weak pulls on his assailant’s hand. Quickly, his eyelids became heavy, and without really realizing it, he had finally passed out.

---

(Horizontal rule/line)
When Takeda finally came to, his surroundings hadn’t changed much, except now, he could tell he was bound, bound to a chair. The darkness surrounding him was no longer the product of a lack of sun, but of a sack covering his eyes. Never in a million years would he have thought he would’ve been kidnapped, not by criminals, not anybody. But when he thought about the work he had doing, it only made sense.

“What do you want from me?” He called weakly out.

He could hear some shifting in the room, and could sense a few bodies move towards him.

“He’s finally awake, it’s about time.” A threatening voice said from the void in front of him. From the echoes of the sounds and stillness of the air, Takeda felt like he was indoors, a warehouse most likely. He lifted his head to the level it would normal be at, feeling his binds out. His wrists and ankles were bound tightly, with his torso very tightly tied to the back of the chair.Trying to escape, obviously, would be useless. Suddenly, as if to interrupt his thinking, the sack on his head was yanked off, and his surroundings were revealed. They were in the bathroom of his apartment, they must’ve snuck him in while it was still dark. In front of him stood Chomei Saji, a target pinned as an important head in the Yakuza. There were two other men who Takeda did not recognize next to him, all dressed in business suits. Chomei reached in his pocket, and pulled out Takeda’s phone, putting a finger on the screen and sliding it across, revealing the passcode screen, showing the screen to Takeda. An oddly happy smile was his face, as if he was trying to comfort Takeda.

Takeda chuckled. “You’ll get nothing from me, Saji.”

The smile faded, and turned into a confused, nearly offended frown.

“Ohh, Hitoshi, I mean no harm. I simply want you to call in sick. I’d hate for you to get in trouble with your employers. Put the code in.”

Takeda let off another slight chuckled, his gaze falling towards his lap. “Eat shit, Saji.”

Saji let out a chuckle of his own. “I don’t think he heard me, Tanaka.”

The man to Chomei’s left simply nodded and advanced, landing a vicious punch to Takeda’s face, following up with another unforgiving hook. The blows came one after another, each just as jarring as the last, until Takeda’s mouth and nose both flowed freely crimson, and his face had a few cuts. The man stood back, shaking off his shivering hands, which were equally bloodied.

Chomei spoke up. “Now, come on, Hitoshi. We wouldn’t want to hurt you anymore, eh? Just give me the code so we can make the call.”

Panting and spitting blood all over his shirt and pants, Takeda took a shaky look up, with some hair stuck to his face by the blood. “Fuck you, Seji. I know you, I know what you really want. You’ll have to pry it from my dead hands you son of a bitch.”

“Ah, but see, that’s the thing. I already have everything I want. I won’t be prying anything from anyone, but…..You’re expendable, Hitoshi. I was simply hoping that you would be smart. You would’ve been a great detective, Takeda”

Takeda spit at the disrespect, a bloody globule of saliva landing on the velvet leg of Chomei’s pants. A stinging blow blindsided Takeda, and he let out a yell of pain and anger.

“I’m feeling abnormally merciful today, Hitoshi. Give me the code, and you might live. Or...have it your way.”

“I was never like you, Seji. I’ll never be like you. You’ll have to kill me first.” Takeda panted, the blood on his face beginning to dry and pull on his face.

“As you wish, Hitoshi. Such a shame. You would’ve made an even better Yakuza.”

Before Takeda could respond, a bar came from behind, roughly finding its way under his chin, pressed hard on his chin. His heavy breathing became rasping, struggling wheezing as the baton laid its pressure on his throat. Chomei produced a knife from his pocket, moving forward, grabbing Takeda’s now swelling face. He forced Takeda to look forward, straight into his dark, near black eyes. No remorse, nor mercy were to be found anywhere in them. Chomei let got for a moment, only to punch Takeda across the face, and continued to come with punches one after the other until Takeda was battling to stay awake. Hands found their way to Takeda’s mouth, forcing it open, with Chomei’s handing making it’s way in, grabbing his tongue. Chomei shoved his knife in Takeda’s mouth roughly stabbing into his tongue, with Takeda’s begging to weakly shake and struggle under the pain, which grew greater as Chomei began to roughly slice it’s way across. Blood poured from Takeda’s mouth, and all over his pants and shirt, as well as Chomei’s. Takeda’s who had been trying his best to remain silent, finally clenched his jaw, and began to bellow at the pain. Chomei retracted his hands, and began another flurry of punches, until Takeda could barely keep his head up, and simply whimpered.

The excruciating operation finally ended, and Chomei simply tore the tongue the rest of the way out, with Takeda letting out another great bellow. With the tongue tossed aside, Chomei sunk his knife into Takeda’s abdomen, which was now rising and falling more weakly than before. Using all his strength, he pulled the knife down, tearing flesh and organs alike. Takeda gaged through his weak crying, letting out another weak yell as the knife was roughly yanked from his gut. The bar was moved, and Takeda, too weak to hold his head up, let it fall, with the blood from his butchered mouth spilling out on his lap. Instead it was forced up, again with Chomei’s hand. He took another hard look into Takeda’s watery, bloodshot eyes, before forcing and holding his head up, facing the ceiling. Takeda felt the sharp sting of the knife blade dig it’s way into his throat, and across his neck, a flow of warm blood falling down his neck, wetting the collar of his shirt.

The hand left Takeda’s chin, and his head fell, limp. The pain was overwhelming, and the bleeding was too fast. The blood on Takeda’s face mixed with tears. He simply sat, tears and blood dripping, as he could barely hear the men leave the room, slamming the door behind them. As his vision blurred and darkened, and his ears began to fill with white noise, thoughts began to fill his head. His parents, sobbing at his funeral. Matsumoto, stuck with a new partner that was fresh out of academy. Chomei and his lackeys ransacking Takeda’s apartment, all of his worldly possessions, tossed about in Chomei’s thirst for any information he could get on the case.

He thought of himself, how they would find him. Covered in his own blood, disemboweled and tongue cut out of his mouth, tossed aside as if it was some piece of rubbish. What a state to be found in. He could hardly find the energy to keep his eyes open, and the hole in his throat kept him from getting his precious oxygen, and keeping him from whimpering anymore. His eyes finally shut, and his entire body fell limp.

His eyes shot open again, and a huge breath entered his lungs. He shot up from his position sititng on the floor, and backed up into the corner of the room, taking huge, gasping breaths. His hands shot up to his throat and mouth, searching for all his wounds. His tongue? Still in his mouth! His throat? Completely sealed! His abdomen? Free from any wounds! His clothes were still soaked in blood, his shirt different shades of dried crimson.

Wasn’t he dead? Where was he now? His head shot up, and he saw three women all looking at him, their eyes nearly as wide as his was. Next to one was a large metal box, a laptop on top.

“What is this? Who are you all?” He frantically questioned. “I-is this purgatory?” The Japanese fell out of his mouth, but the others continued to stare at him. He then noticed that two of them looked to be American’s, white women. The other one, on the other hand, actually looked like she was Japanese like him.

He pointed a blood stained hand at her. ‘You! Where are we, who are these other women?” He nearly screamed.

He fell to his knees, praying silently to himself.

“Oh God, I know I haven’t been the best follower...well, I haven’t followed you at all, but you must let me into heaven, please! I haven’t sinned, I was a good man, a good man doing good things. Please rescue me from this purgatory!”

[Kenny1]

The shouting of a man pulled Arielle out of her head, and made her sit up with a jolt. She hadn't noticed before but there were a couple of other women and one very upset man that appeared to be trying to pray and hold back tears at the same time. She let out a sigh of frustration and looked at the room around her. It was clearly a normal apartment, and she could even see Tokyo outside. 'Best focus on the present. I'm sure there is a logical explanation for this, but for now I need to focus on getting out of this mess' She thought to herself

"You know that isn't going to help anything, right?" She said to the man kissing the carpet "Whichever god your praying to obviously doesn't care since he/she let you get into this." She paused for a moment to let her point sink in

"It looks like we were all kidnapped" She said thoughtfully "So you have two choices. Either keep asking the floor to forgive you, or get up and help me figure out what is going on and better yet how so save our own asses."

Arielle stood up and stretched her limbs, popping several joints loudly in the process. She turned to the other girls and said

"well at least you all have some common sense. I'm going to check out the doors and windows, maybe they can be broken. If you guys could check the other rooms we might find something useful."

Turning her attention to the front door she reached for the door handle, but was stopped a few inches from the door. Perplexed she tried again, this time running her hand up and down the invisible blockade. 'Some kind of condensed energy that appears to have no light variations' she thought in confusion. After trying the windows and getting the same results she leaned against the wall and thought to herself, pondering the implications of her discovery.

[Firecracker_]

The Japanese words in a voice other than his make Takeda's head jolt up to see who was speaking to him. To his surprise, it was one of the foreign looking women. She spoke in a rude tone, dismissing Takeda's praying as illogical, acting as if he was some sort of idiot. Taking a few breaths, Takeda's did feel so stupid for putting on such a display, it was unusual of him. He stood up, pulling his sticky shirt out of his pants and buttoned the few buttons that hadn't been cut through.

"Look, lady. Before I opened my eyes just now, I was being disemboweled, and had my throat slit. Now, I wake up, and all of it's gone? If any thing, I'd say it would be a god showing a bit of mercy on me, but, even if there isn't some sort of god over us, something beyond our power is going on. I assume all of you were killed too?" He said.

Takeda had recognized the woman who spoke to him. Some sort of outspoken anti-theist. He'd be the first to admit he wasn't religious, but such people like her often rubbed him the wrong way.

Takeda turned his head to the laptop that another of the two women had tried to interact with. He walked over, trying to touch it. He pressed a few of the keys, and ran a finger over the trackpad, but nothing happened. He tried pressing the power button, but, still, no response. He tried to lift it up, but it would not budge off of the metal box. His attention then turned to said box, which appeared to bolted shut on every side, no latches or openings. He stood up straight, hands on his hips, and turned to look out of the windows. He could see the cityscape of Tokyo stretched out beyond the windows, but nothing else of interest. He tried to lay a hand on the window, only to find it had a force field around it, just as the door did. He tapped a few times, but it felt harder than anything could be, obviously not breakable.

"Well, whatever put us in here, obviously doesn't want us to leave yet." He said, his vision glued to the city.

[Athinar]

Alex pressed a key, but nothing happened. That's when the shouting happened. She whipped around, staring at a man, dressed like a detective. The only difference from the normal uniform and his was that his clothing was slashed and bloody. He kept asking whether this was purgatory. Disturbed, Alex frowned. If anyone had to ask that question, it probably wasn't. But she wasn't about to say anythin- oh look. That Anti-theist who was debating all religious groups in Japan. While she was effective at getting the man off of his feet, she did it with a particularly heartless way. "You didn't have to say it like a bitch. We're all dead here." She didn't believe in God, or gods, if you were Shinto, but she respected other's beliefs.

Narrowing her eyes, Alexandria said, "I was slashed across the gut and stabbed by a foot-long knife in the heart. I can't think of any scenario that a human being comes out of that alive."

Raising her eyebrows at the 'common sense' bit, she laughed. Hands shaking, but with a look of determination in her eyes, she said, "You have no idea how much I am considering breaking down and curling into a ball right now. I. Am. Freaking. Terrified. I don't know where I am, I don't know if my students are safe, I don't know how I'm here."

As the detective poked around the room, going to the laptop first, she said, "Doesn't work. I tried." Listening to everyone speak, she walked up to where the Detective was, and stared out over the city, Tokyo Tower clearly visible. She whispered, "Minato..." She turned to the detective, eyes lit up with the triumph of discovery. "Kabukicho is on the south side of Shinjuku! We're not far from where I.... died." Her eyes fell at this, but she still held an air of triumph about her. She had figured it out.

[ReaptheMusic]

I'm so stupid.

Her head down as she waited near the subway line for it to come, Karime Ochiro, better known as the Idol 'Haruka,' spoke within her own mind. The spotlessly clean subway made her feel sick. It was too clean. Too perfect. Why did everything have to perfect? Why did this society demand nothing but the best, of the best, of the best, of the best, of the... Her hands clutched a strappy purse in front of her so tightly her knuckles were white. She remembered seeing the video.

Oh it had spread like wildfire, just like her legs did in that video.

She had done a bikini-modeling photo shoot not long ago and while the photographer had been busy catching the light on the idol just right, some production assistant went and took a video of the entire process of her going through the sexy poses they commanded her to do and overlayed the audio with some less-than-pure music. Her American friends told her that the video really wasn't that bad but...

They don't fucking understand.

Everything had to be pure in the land of the rising sun. The comments of the video sneered at her, saying things like 'She probably used that disgusting pose on that art-director she slept with' and 'How desperate for attention do you really have to be to do something like this?' The masses were misinformed, as they always are. Across from her in the subway, a metal bar was propped up against the tracks, polished so much that she could easily make out her reflection with ease. Her teal eyes, peeking over her overly large sunglasses, glared back at her.

I hate you... I hate you... I hate you... I hate you... I hate you.

Behind her, she could hear two teenage boys roughhousing. From what she could gather, one was teasing the other about how he liked a girl.

It wasn't my fault! He used me... He USED me...!

But it is my fault.

It's always my fault.

You stupid whore.

From down the way, she could hear the train coming. The boys were getting closer.

I'm so worthless.

Her fans didn't even like her anymore, most of them anyway. Her music was becoming weaker as Haruka, the persona itself, was being broken. She had a mental breakdown three months ago. She started bawling on live national TV, admitting how stressed she was on the talk show and how she hated that this fame had made her into something she wasn't. Before she could be interviewed further, she ran out of the studio... and never went back. There was consideration of her return lately, and her star-bound friends had been there for her, for that she was grateful.
But it was her that wasn't there for herself anymore. Her eyes closed and she let out a sigh. All she wanted was a nice, hot bubble bath and to curl into her bed for the night. Maybe she could be nicer to herself in the morning. Then she felt someone fall into her from behind.

With a gasp, she suddenly found the subway tracks rushing up to greet her, landing with an 'oomf!' ungracefully. She picked her head up to look behind at what had pushed her. One of the boys, who had also fallen but onto the platform.

His eyes were stretched wide in horror.

Looking over towards the oncoming train, she realized, even as she struggled to get up and off the tracks, that it was too late. In those final, slow moments, everything seemed to slow down.

And she realized how badly she wanted to live. Instinctively, her hand rose up to guard her face.

Her childhood hallucination was there. Just in front of her, sneering down at her. Had she forgotten her medicine? Why would she see Himika now... of all times? The dirty-haired hallucinations eyes narrowed and her thin lips curled over blackened teeth.

"You don't deserve to live."

...huh?

And then it was over, just as she began to scream, the large metal wheel sliced cleanly down her neck, the head rolling along the tracks as the subway kept moving... the expression of horror still twisted onto the features of the fallen star, Haruka.
*****
...Warmth...

This wasn't so bad.

If this was death... here, floating freely in this space of blackness, surrounded by nothingness... She could live with that. But then, she couldn't because she was dead. There was nothing to worry about. She would never feel pain again and that... knowing that...

It was wonderful.

But then her body began to stir, and her eyes gently flicked open. She felt like she was just coming out of a very nice, very needed rest. Where was she anyway? She felt a bit stuffy cramped beneath whatever was over her. Wiggling, she was pleased to find that whatever was on her came off with ease, and she emerged from a sea of blankets and pillows that had been piled up in the corner of the room. She blinked as she took in the sight around her.

Some sort of dingy apartment with other people in it... and a laptop... and... Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore, She thought to herself. She didn't remove herself completely from her chysalis of blankets and pillows, finding them to be pleasantly warm, and thus kept herself half buried beneath them as she talked, a fair hand reaching up to stroke her neck. Had it been a dream?

"U-uh....H-hi... um, where am I?" She asked the people present in a confused tone.

[DJAtomika]

Just another day at work.

With a flick of his wrist, Itachi diverted his crane along the row of containers. He held the control stick in just the right position; too much, the lumbering machine would shoot across the yard. Too little, and he wouldn't get his job done on time. This was a delicate balance, and handling these huge machines was an art form only workers like him understood. He eased the giant to a stop above a particular container, this one was blue with a Hitachi logo emblazoned on the side, and whipped out a clipboard. His schedule told him that today, anything that was under Hitachi was to be moved to a nearby dock for movement onto a freighter.

Oh shipping. Thus a simple art.

He quickly confirmed that the container he was over was one for moving and, with another control stick, lowered the crane's rectangular armature downward. The device slid right over the top container so he twisted the stick, clamping the arm in place.

Right, time to haul.

He pulled back on the stick and the container rose, slowly but surely, into the air. Gingerly he raised the hulk up until it hung just below his control station. Then, with both hands on both sticks, he manoeuvred the whole crane along its track towards dock side. Slower, this time. He had cargo.

Last one, then he would be homeward bound.

He inched his way across the freight yard, while below him trucks and workers milled about like little ants. The day was easing to a close, sun setting beneath the horizon, casting long and thick shadows across the docks. He could faintly hear the cheerful laughs of his colleagues below him; just like him, they were waiting to go home to their wives and families and sit down with a hot meal to relax.

His crane slid into place and he stopped, lowering the container into place as he heard footfalls behind him. A hand clapped him on the shoulder as he smiled and turned to look up.

"Itachi, go home."

"But what if I stay longer, hmm?"

"Then I'll just go home and share more sake with my wife! Ha ha!"

His shift replacement was a very old friend of his, a man named Yuichi. Itachi swapped places with him and tipped his hard hat in farewell as he climbed down the ladder. Several catwalks and two ladders later and he was on solid ground.

Time to clock out. Home.

As he strolled down the road towards the staff office, he briefly contemplated his job. It was simple enough, right? Driving a crane was like parking a car, or playing those crane games his daughter enjoyed playing at the fair or the arcade.

Itachi smiled. The mere memory of seeing his little girl at home warmed his heart. Her smile, her little hands held gently within his when they walked. The way his children played together in their flat. Everything about his family made him smile.

He was happy.

He never did notice his coworker shout a warning to him.

Only when a large shadow grew over his path he realised something was wrong.

Itachi looked up.

A split second before a falling cargo container crushed him beneath its bulk.

Oh death. Thou but a simple art.

----------

The world was white.

He awoke in a daze. His clothes were crumpled and bloody, and it felt like he'd been through a clothes drier. Slowly he opened his eyes wider, letting the light in while he sat up, rubbing the back of his head in confusion.

Hadn't he just died? He remembered the container dropping down on top of him, a few brief moments of sheer agony, then nothing but a cold, dark black.

Was this heaven? A tiny room where people argued with each other forever?

In the room were several other people, just as confused as he was. Some were already in the process of arguing, but one, a young lady, had just woken up. Upon hearing her ask a question he didn't think the others had heard, he turned to her and smiled weakly.

"I'm not sure."

Itachi extended a hand that he hoped she would shake. It was nice to make at least one friend in a strange place like this.

"I'm Gokyo Itachi. You?"

[Firecracker_]

Thinking back about it was the most terrifying part. Even staring out at the admittedly beautiful cityscape of his home prefecture, his mind could not shake the flashbacks to his little conversation with Chomei before he was sent to the room. The pain was the most vivid of the memories, and make Takeda’s stomach churn. He was simply happy that he no longer had to feel all that pain, but on the other hand, his clothes still had enough blood on them to tell a story. He stood back from the window, and examined his clothes. His dress shirt and tie were both nearly saturated in blood, and the top area of his pants also had plenty of blood on the front side. His dress shirt also had cuts in it from where he felt the knife coldly slice through him. The only thing he could say that was ‘out of the ordinary’ other than the entire situation he was in, was the fact that he had his trench coat on, and that when he appeared in the room, his clothes were all buttoned and tightened as if he had just walked out of the office. A thought came to him, and his hand went straight under his coat to his hip, to see if he still had his .38 revolver. Sadly, his hand found nothing but an empty holster. He had turned it in before he left the station, he remembered, and then cursed under his breath.

The room was rather stuffy, which brought a slight chuckled to Takeda. Who knew purgatory would have such poor air conditioning? He thought. The thought didn’t last too long after he slid his trench coat, which revealed just how fully saturated his shirt was with blood. He grimaced, and the thoughts of his death raced back in his head, but he forced them out quickly. Through his unbuttoned shirt, he could see his stomach, which was free from any cuts, and it still baffled him how just they had all died and ended up alive, in a sense, in this room.

As he examined his own body, he realized that something was in his peripherals that wasn’t there before, and a quick turn of the head revealed a man with his hand outstretched to pile of pillows, which had the head of a girl sticking out. He began to shift his vision to focus on the man again, before he realized that there was some strange familiarity to the girl in the pillows. He stared at her for another few moments, before he realized that she was Haruka, some popstar that had quickly lost her star luster due to some online video. He only barely paid attention to her in life, and when the video came out, he was only aware of it because of some chatter among the men of the office, and some sort of slight investigation by the Cyber and Sexual Crimes teams.

Takeda walked up, standing in front of the two new people.

“Tell me, you both died before you appeared in here, eh? Welcome to the club. I’m Invest-”

He stopped mid sentence, and all he could think of was how useless it was to be using his job title,as he was pretty much dead. He shook the thought out, negativity couldn’t help right now.

“Sorry, Investigator Hitoshi.” He turned to the rest of the room. “And that goes to the rest of you all, my name is Hitoshi. What about the rest of you all? If we’re going to be stuck in this room together, we might as get to know each other.”

[Kenny1]

Thus far Arielle had been ignoring the commentary around her, figuring responding would only compile the issue. She'd never been good at saying things in a polite way and would only manage to dig herself deeper into a hole. However, her ears perked up when she heard "Investigator Hitoshi".

She'd just recently begun to speculate that the Japanese mofia might have something to do with this, and wondered if he knew anything.

"I hate to interrupt, but please humor me Mr. Hitoshi. My name is Doctor Arielle Bellemont, I am a geneticist for the university of Tokyo. It has come to my attention we all seem to have befell tragedy before our arrival in this domicile. Horrors which should have left us dead judging by all the blood we exhibit. I have come to speculate that we each fell into a coma and were kidnapped soon after recovery, a long shot I know but the best idea I have yet to come up with. Anybody that would do this must..." using her fingers to count she continued "First have the financial means to have covered our medical expenses. Second, be able to kidnap us without alerting the authorities and third have some motivation. The only organization that meets the first two requirements, outside of the government is the Japanese Mafia. Would you by any chance know anything about them? I'm not sure what your job was in the department, but hopefully your less ignorant than I am about if this is possible, and even more so why the h*ll they would want all of us. By the looks of it we have nothing in common at all, except for the bloody near-death experiences."

She looked up at the investigator to determine his reaction, and she hoped as hard as she had ever hoped this man would know something. Though with her luck he would be someone from a drug unit or some other unrelated area.

[Midori]

The others didn't seem to have any insight either. She stared at the man who shouted at her. How was she supposed to know what was going on? She remembered the two men that attacked her and left her to burn alive. That's right, the book store probably burned to the ground. That was the only thing she had left. Now that it was gone it felt fitting that she'd be dead. It wasn't like she could go on without a home or a way to make a living. She probably would have just committed suicide after that. Maybe it was some kind of twisted fortune that she didn't have to live the rest of her life destitute. Then again, she was in a new place now and not even the scars her father left were present. The man's death sounded pretty terrible as well.

"I... still don't think..." She could barely get the words out. She didn't know these people and they all looked intimidating. "Maybe... we're disturbed spirits... I'm sure I died." Her voice was so soft she wasn't even sure if the others could hear her say it. Hitomi slumped further into her self, curling her legs up so her knees met her chin and wrapping her arms around her legs. Maybe her father was right all those years ago and she really was impure. Had her entire life been a mistake? Could it be that her soul was corrupted and she was damned to walk the earth as an evil spirit? The thought of it evoked tears to run down her face. She shrank even further as she resisted making any indication that she was crying. Her crying was quickly overshadowed by the arrival of two other people who seemed to be just as lost as everyone else. It was something of a relief that no one was paying attention to her.

---

Without warning the laptop blinked to life and a message appeared on screen that read. "LOADING..." Suddenly the laptop chimed up and a picture appeared on screen.

Once everyone focused their attention on the laptop a voice spoke up. It was clearly synthesized but sounded very smooth and natural.

"I am CELL. You are all dead. You belong to me, that's the way it is. Inside each of your heads is a small implant that marks you as mine. The implant also has some nifty explosives in it so if you refuse to do as I say your head will go BOOM!"

As the voice explained this to the group a simple silhouette appeared on screen illustrating a human figure giving the middle finger to the picture of CELL. On the word 'boom' the silhouette's head popped in an almost comical fashion, slumped onto the bottom of the screen, and faded away.

"I have some gifts for you in this fancy box!"

The crate the laptop had been sitting on popped it's sides open to reveal a gun rack as well as some small briefcases labeled with each of their names. The guns were of a futuristic design, sleek and simplistic, but as any one familiar with firearms would note there was no magazine well or ammunition to speak of. On one side of the gun rack were handgun sized 'pistols' and on the other side held larger 'rifles' similar in design to the P90 submachinegun but much sleeker and again no apparent way of loading conventional ammunition.

In the breifcases they would find a suit, tailor made for each person, made of a strong and flexible material unlike anything they've ever seen or felt. The suit was one complete set that covered the wearer from the neck down to their feet, it had harder material that was jet black around most of the body with a softer more flexible material around joints. Of the many strange features of this suit was a hardened spine that ran the length of the wearer's spine, as a result the sipper to close the suit was on the front and covered by a strip of material when closed. Once they donned the suit and closed the suit fully they would experiencea sharp sting in the back of their neck and then nothing. In order to wear the suit it is necessary to completely undress as any clothes worn underneath would be too bulky.

"Your mission is to kill this bad guy! You have fifteen minutes to prepare."

The target had replaced CELL on the screen and remained there. The laptop no longer made any indication of being in use other than the screen showing them their target. Now they had a choice. Obey CELL and kill some random person they knew nothing about or take the chance that CELL was lying about the bomb in their heads.

[Athinar]

Alex fell silent as the Investigator Hitoshi, as he was called, promptly ignored her, and went over to the two newcomers. Muttering, "Freakin' rude...", she went back to the laptop. Nothing changed. Except Arielle's demeanor. She didn't think that the girl was capable of being polite at all, but sometimes, people surprised Alexandria.

By virtue of not being part of the conversation, she noticed a quiet voice, in the corner of the room. It belonged to a small woman, not far from Alex herself in age, it looked, in the corner of the room, opposite the others. She was curled up, sobbing. Alex's heart melted at seeing this, because she herself had been there. Well, not in this corner of the room, but where the woman was emotionally. When she was kicked out into the snow, back in Juneau, all those years ago, all she'd been able to do was cry. Looking away from the laptop, Alex walked towards the woman. Crouching down, Alex reached out to touch the woman's shoulder, but hesitated. Maybe the woman didn't want any help? She banished the thought from her mind. Alex didn't want any help, but her adoptive family had given it anyway.

Tapping her shoulder lightly, Alexandria tried to look into the other woman's face, with a kind look. "If you are a disturbed spirit, then you're the nicest one I've met so far." Sitting, arms behind her, and leaning back, still looking forward, Alex extended a hand to the other woman, and said, "My name's Alex. What's yours?"

Then, came the ding. Standing up, and extending a hand, to help the other woman up, Alex looked at the laptop. Some girl dressed as an idol or something began to speak. Alex barely blinked until the cartoon on the screen made a little cartoon person's head go 'boom'. Despite the fact that she had just died, and this... 'Cell' confirmed it, she still couldn't imagine her head exploding.

Then there was a freaking order to kill someone, or Cell would explode their heads? Eyes wide, Alex grabbed a futuristic looking pistol, similar to the Heckler & Koch HK45 her adoptive Sheriff father had taught her to fire, when she was eighteen. Looking at the magazine, she saw that there was no ammunition of any kind. If she drew strange looks, she snapped, "Well I'm not taking any chances, okay?!" Grabbing the suit, she unzipped it from the front, examining it. Throwing it over her shoulder, she looked for a place to change, even though the room had no dividers or partitions.

[ReaptheMusic]

She looked to the man that called himself Itachi. She hesitated, her eyes looking at his outstretched hand with a mix of confusion and relief that someone was talking to her. She contemplated what to say, how to introduce herself. If she said her name was Karime, that was all she would be. Just some stranger with a horrible anxiety problem. If she said her name was Haruka, she might be ridiculed for the reasons behind her fall of fame, but she would have the benefit of being known, and hiding her true name just in case this was some insane plot to kidnap her. Regardless, the memory of falling in front of the subway with Himika looming over her was fresh in her head. It was at that moment that she made her decision and outstretched her own hand to shake his.

"They call... I guess, called me, Haruka."

Upon hearing the investigators request to introduce themselves, she turned to everyone in the room and rose from her pile of pillows and blankets, finding that from the neck down, her body was still covered in blood all around from where she'd been bleeding from her neck as she died.

"My name is Haruka. And... I died before appearing here."

Then CELL chimed up, causing her to turn her head towards the laptop in wonder. She listened and watched. While on the inside, she was in absolute misery and fear... She was Haruka. Confident, composed, unafraid. She took a deep breath. No, now was not a good time to be Karime Ochiro. It may never be a good time to be Karime ever again. As the laptop shut off, she decided, feeling the tension in the room, that it might be best to not focus on the fact that they would need to kill someone or that they might be killed again if they refused.

"We're already dead, right?"

She asked this, looking around at everyone.

"If we're killed again then... maybe it would even be better than our deaths before. Maybe it would be less painful... Though, I don't understand it."

She walked over to the suits and felt her heart fall a bit as she felt them and held the one her size up. A distraction from their truth, it was her specialty to make others feel good on the stage. So, as Haruka, she decided that that's what her mission would be here. She would make everyone feel better. A sense of understanding and silent vigilance blossomed inside her. And she understood that she would look superficial... but, thats the price of being... of having been, a star.

Making a show of it, she sighed dejectedly as she held her suit up against her body.

"These aren't at all my style. I love dresses and flouncy skirts, you know? I mean these will look sleek and cool and all but..."

She pouted, taking care not to blatantly say she wouldn't put it on, just in case CELL was telling the truth.

[Kenny1]

Arielle looked at the screen with a raised eyebrow, and a knot forming in her stomach. There was no way this was the work of the Japanese Mafia, they may be a lot of things but she had never heard of them resorting to such dishonorable tactics. She looked uneasily at the room around her, noting nobody seemed to have any answers. Uneasily she walked across the room and looked at the suits, turning to Haruka she remarked stiffly

"I've never been able to pull these off. Give me a beautiful top and jeans any day." Arielle smiled awkwardly, trying to stave off the fear in her blood. This was no time to think illogically, and certainly no time to pretend to be dead. She looked over at Hitoshi she said seriously

"Do you know anything about this man sir? Or what organization could have done this? I doubt the mafia would be so dishonorable and I will not kill an innocent man." Arielle knew this was true. She could never kill an innocent man, but she also knew she had to play it smart. She did not have enough data to make a decision, and it looked like there was not enough time to find out. She would have to play along, and determine the man's morality during the "mission". With morbid humor she joked softly

"Well at least we get to pretend to be Americans for a day" she weakly laughed as she pointed to the guns.

[Midori]

Before Hitomi could speak up to Alex CELL introduced itself to the group. Would she really have to kill someone? Regardless of how she felt about what she was being told to do by this mysterious person she didn't want to risk her head exploding so she decided she would follow instructions. She stood up and grabbed the case that had her suit. The clothes she had been wearing when she died were charred and only barely covered her up. She started to worry that the others might notice the fact that she's different from the other women in the room. She looked around, there was only one door that no one had tried yet. She knew the other doors didn't work but maybe this one would since it probably didn't lead out of the apartment.

As the door opened Hitomi slipped in as quietly as she could. She was met with a hallway, it ended in a closet on her left and continued to her right, turning left to the rest of the apartment. Seeing as no one would consider sharing a closet to change in she quickly stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Now that she was alone she could change without fear of being discovered. She couldn't predict how the others would react to her unique physiology but in her experience it had always led to trouble for her so she decided it would be kept a secret for as long as possible.

Throwing her ragged clothes on the floor she took her first look at the suit. It seemed almost like a catsuit that a super spy would wear to her. It fit exceptionally well around her unique form, although it was a shame that she couldn't wear anything underneath. Hitomi was worried at first that the skintight suit would give her secret away but it wasn't actually noticeable. Whoever had designed the suit had clearly taken her unique form into consideration. Once she had zipped the suit up completely she felt a sharp sting in the back of her neck. It felt like a bee sting but there was nothing there and it didn't hurt after the initial sting. She seemed fine however and started back out to collect a gun. CELL said she would have to kill someone, but could she really do it?

[Firecracker_]

Instead of getting a constructive introduction session that expected of the room, one of the women began crying, and the same arrogant woman from before began speculating that their entire situation had been some random act perpetuated by the Japanese Mafia. Then she asked if he knew anything about them, which was hilariously coincidental, seeing as the Yakuza had been an obsession of his for a while now.

“The Yakuza? I mean, yeah, they’re rich and powerful, but this is just crazy, even for them. Those two in the back just fuckin’ popped up! Kidnapped people don’t just come out of no where like that. This can’t be the Yakuza. I wasn’t even wearing that coat before I passed. And I’m still wearing the same clothes I passed out in, just like all of you.” He said, noting everyone’s bloodied and torn clothes, and holding up his torn and blood soaked shirt.

“Not to mention, force fields? This isn’t the work of some sort of syndicated criminal organization, and I have my doubts about any government hand in this. This could be something beyond our comprehension..”

He stepped back a bit, thinking a bit. “Could their be any connections between us? I assume all of we know Japanese, and seeing as we’re in Tokyo, or at least appear to be, we must all be Japanese nationals.” He looked at the two white women again. ‘Er, Japanese citizens, at least.”

Before he could continue speaking, the laptop chirped the life, warranting the entire room to turn their head in attention. A picture of a girl was on screen, barking orders at them, and the threat of their head exploding if they disobeyed. She confirmed they were dead, and that they all belonged to her, Cell. She opened the box revealing weapons the likes of which he had never seen before, along with some sort of skin tight suits.

He stared at the now quiet computer, that had a picture of a man they were supposed to kill, and the box, full of the strange equipment. One of the white women stepped forward, and grabbed a gun, expressing that she wasn’t taking any chances. He could share that sentiment.

“We’re dead, and now we have to kill someone? Holy shit.” He murmured to himself, stroking his chin.

The women who had been crying before, stood, trying her best to cover up with her burnt clothes. He remembered he had heard about a fire during the day in the office, but nothing much else. It would be a long shot to say that that woman would be from that fire, but Takeda wouldn’t be surprised otherwise. The woman grabbed a suit, examined it, and went towards a door, opening it and walking through, to the surprise of Takeda. He walked over, and opened the door, seeing what was on the other side. It was a hallway, with a closet at the end. No closer to getting out of the apartment.

Takeda went back to the room to check out his own suit, as it appeared that there was one in a specific size for everyone. The girl that had been in the pillows had gotten up, and held hers up, commenting how she preferred dresses. Takeda gave a silent smirk, and walked up to the back to grab his own suit, digging through the others, until he found on that seemed to be his size.

“You don’t think I’ll be able to get my suit in this do you?’ He joked meekly. He tried to put it on, hoping that it would stretch around his current apparel, but it didn’t distort at all. It was meant to fit only one shape, and it appeared to be his naked body. He could feel his face warm up a bit, thinking about undressing around all the women in the room, but he didn’t want to show his shyness.

“Well, I guess we’ll take turns in the closet eh?”

[Midori]

Gokyo Itachi

Itachi was a simple man who lived his life doing normal things. He worked hard and cared for his family like any good man would. So why was he trapped in this crazy nightmare? Hadn't he done right by his family? Had he wronged someone unknowingly and now had to pay the price? This whole thing was bullshit! He couldn't believe it. He wouldn't believe it! "To hell with this, I'm outta here. You just try and stop me from that computer you freak! Itachi started for the door but froze in the middle of the room. A sharp pain in his skull and he collapsed to his knees. Suddenly without warning his head erupted, spewing blood across the room. His headless body slumped lifelessly onto the floor, ending him then and there.

Karime "Haruka" Ochiro

Having witnessed such a terrible thing Karime could no longer keep up her collected facade. She screamed as the blood spilled out of the man's lifeless body. Despite having been a star once upon a time, her true self was much more fragile. "I want to go home! Someone get me out of here! CELL you monster get me out of here right now!" She was desperate, wishing, hoping for someone or something to free her of this nightmare. Anything would be better than whatever this was. "Just kill me please!" As soon as she finished her sentence a sharp pain appeared in her skull. She cried out and then...

Sato Hitomi

Hitomi walked in to the room just in time to witness both of their heads explode in front of her. It was a horrible sight, the majority of the room had bloodstains from the gore. CELL had been telling the truth after all. Hitomi felt nauseous but didn't dare to speak out against CELL. She resisted the urge to throw up on the floor, covering her mouth and turning away. If there was any doubt of who was in charge before it was gone now. She and the rest of them belonged to CELL, and if any of them didn't like it they would end up like those two.

---

*CHIME*


"I did tell you what would happen. Stupid people don't listen. You have ten more minutes."

[Firecracker_]

As Takeda was examining his suit, a raised voice caught his attention. The man in the corner had gotten up, and began to shout that he refused to do what he was told, and dared the computer to stop him. He walked for the door, and Takeda tried to move in to stop him, but the man collapsed immediately, and as he fell, his head detonated, showering Takeda and the rest of the room in blood and grey matter. Takeda froze for a second, feeling the warm fluid drip all over him, nauseated and terrified all at the same time.

Suddenly, the girl across the room spoke up, screaming completely out of her calmer disposition. She asked to be killed, simply, and thus, she was. She dropped limp, same as the man, and head detonated, coating him in a second layer of blood and matter. Takeda could not move, nor speak, only stood. After what felt like an eternity had passed, and with one of the women leaning over a gagging, one of Takeda’s shaky hands slowly found his way to his face, and wiped the blood from his face and eyes, and he began to spit whatever he had in his mouth out. The spitting quickly turned to gagging. Takeda took a few staggered steps to the wall, bracing himself against the wall, bent over, heaving. Curses flowed out of his mouth in place of any actual vomit, the exploding heads playing over and over in his head. He thought of his head exploding, and it horrified him further, how close to second death they all were.

He wondered if it would be better if he just asked to die himself, just to escape whatever Cell had planned for him. His arm losing its strength, and his legs beginning to shiver, and soon he slid down the wall, curling up on the floor. He couldn’t stop shaking, and the blood on him was making him cold and wet. Without taking his head from his in between his arms, he simply shouted to the others.

“Let’s just do what he says! We need eachother to survive whatever this is that we’re in!” The words came out of him surprisingly strong, seeing as he was close to sobbing himself. He just wanted the nightmare to be over, and it hadn’t really even started yet.

[Kenny1]

Arielle dropped the gun on the floor in shock at the sight around her. Her hands shook violently as she steadied herself on the cage. Her mind raced as it sought out any possible reason for this, and who could do such a thing. It was clear they weren't really dead, after all a bound form of energy (soul) wouldn't have enough mass to explode. She shook her head violently to clear her mind. This was no time to think about why. She had to focus on surviving this hell. She would have to play along in order to at least stand a chance to live.

She thought of her mothers at home right now. Mimi was probably serving tea to mom right now as she read the latest magazine from the news stand down the street. The small house would look very bright as the afternoon light streamed into the central atrium, and Mimi's bamboo garden would be casting a soft green glow from the sun.

Arielle couldn't let them down. Her mother had lived through hell with her father beating her endlessly. If she could handle that and live in peace afterwards her daughter better damn well be able to do the same.

Without giving herself a chance to think she hurriedly, and shakily, dropped her bloody clothes and put on the suit that looked her size. Its pressure around her almost seemed calming as she closed it, like a baby being swaddled or her mom's tight hugs she greeted anyone with (integration had not been her strongest suit).

Picking up a gun that resembled a sniper rifle she took deep breaths. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, just like Mimi had taught her. This was no time to think about what was going on. She made the conscious choice to devote all her thoughts to her wonderful life and a way to get the h*ll out of this mess. She picked up her purse and swung it over her shoulder, pulled out a black scrungie and tied back her hair into a bun. Holding the gun close to her chest she leaned against the wall and took deep breaths, meditating quietly and trying her best to keep her racing mind from going anywhere she didn't want it to.