[Memory] Ninth
WHO: Yamazaki Susumu/Rain, (notpissedoff)
SENSES: Sound/Smell
SUMMARY: Violence and bloodshed in the name of payback.
PERMISSIONS: Free for use
The disorientation of being unable to feel anything was what Yamazaki became aware of first, and coupled with an inability to see, it was quite an unsettling sensation. He could hear, though, and smell... and everything that met those two senses struck him as alarmingly familiar. The muffled sounds of shouting and hurried footsteps above him, and the damp, musty scent in the air, faintly tinged with blood... this was the place from his birth dream. The basement room.
There were a few sets of scrambling footsteps nearby, which came to an abrupt halt. A dripping sound, very close, was all he heard for the next few moments... and then, his own voice. Calm, measured and soft... dangerously so.
"The way she died... was brutal. To make such a sport of beating and raping..." there was a harsh tch sound from one of the other occupants of the room, "...the body was covered in cuts and bruises."
Footsteps, suddenly, running towards him. The sound of a sword being drawn, and a coarse shout. "Outta my way!"
The attacker reached him, there was the sound of a violent impact... and Yamazaki's voice continued, every bit as steadily. "...In the pouring rain..." The harsh clang of a sword hitting the floor then, immediately followed by the dull thud of a person doing likewise. "You discarded her with less care than your trash. One eye put out, the side of her face crushed and swollen..."
"Damn!" Another man's voice in front of him was immediately followed by a swift rustle of movement... and then the sound of something small and light landing on the ground between them, and the unmistakable smell of blood. There was a harsh breath from the man...
"Her left arm ripped to shreds... the ends of the broken bone sticking out," Yamazaki continued.
And the man began to scream. "Wah?! Waaa--aaahh?!! My fingers!!"
Scrambling footsteps again--escaping footsteps. Only one set. They halted abruptly. All was silent for a moment... the screaming man had perhaps lost consciousness. Then Yamazaki spoke again, his tone cold and unfeeling.
"You'd rather get caught than be killed... is that it?"
"I... was only following orders from above to deal with the spy!" It was a voice Yamazaki recognized from previous memories--Masuya. He was panicked, breathing hard. "You people do the same thing!"
There was a loud crash then, as the man and something more fell to the floor, followed by Yamazaki's slow, quiet footsteps approaching him.
"Not yet. You're not nearly there yet." He spoke evenly, deliberately. "It's far too early... for you to beg for your life."
Sudden movement from Masuya, the sound of a blade scraping against the floor... and Yamazaki's running footfalls. There was an impact, flesh striking flesh and someone hitting the ground with a considerable amount of force. Another impact then, a much more violent one, followed by the audible splatter of what Yamazaki's sense of smell told him was blood.
Another strike, and another, and another, until they became interspersed with pained choked-off moans from Masuya. Yamazaki spoke then, his voice still frigidly emotionless, but with the faint edge of a strain that hadn't been there earlier.
"I'm not really supposed to kill you. Forgive me. I... can't be patient anymore."
One more impact, one more splatter, and the memory faded.
SENSES: Sound/Smell
SUMMARY: Violence and bloodshed in the name of payback.
PERMISSIONS: Free for use
The disorientation of being unable to feel anything was what Yamazaki became aware of first, and coupled with an inability to see, it was quite an unsettling sensation. He could hear, though, and smell... and everything that met those two senses struck him as alarmingly familiar. The muffled sounds of shouting and hurried footsteps above him, and the damp, musty scent in the air, faintly tinged with blood... this was the place from his birth dream. The basement room.
There were a few sets of scrambling footsteps nearby, which came to an abrupt halt. A dripping sound, very close, was all he heard for the next few moments... and then, his own voice. Calm, measured and soft... dangerously so.
"The way she died... was brutal. To make such a sport of beating and raping..." there was a harsh tch sound from one of the other occupants of the room, "...the body was covered in cuts and bruises."
Footsteps, suddenly, running towards him. The sound of a sword being drawn, and a coarse shout. "Outta my way!"
The attacker reached him, there was the sound of a violent impact... and Yamazaki's voice continued, every bit as steadily. "...In the pouring rain..." The harsh clang of a sword hitting the floor then, immediately followed by the dull thud of a person doing likewise. "You discarded her with less care than your trash. One eye put out, the side of her face crushed and swollen..."
"Damn!" Another man's voice in front of him was immediately followed by a swift rustle of movement... and then the sound of something small and light landing on the ground between them, and the unmistakable smell of blood. There was a harsh breath from the man...
"Her left arm ripped to shreds... the ends of the broken bone sticking out," Yamazaki continued.
And the man began to scream. "Wah?! Waaa--aaahh?!! My fingers!!"
Scrambling footsteps again--escaping footsteps. Only one set. They halted abruptly. All was silent for a moment... the screaming man had perhaps lost consciousness. Then Yamazaki spoke again, his tone cold and unfeeling.
"You'd rather get caught than be killed... is that it?"
"I... was only following orders from above to deal with the spy!" It was a voice Yamazaki recognized from previous memories--Masuya. He was panicked, breathing hard. "You people do the same thing!"
There was a loud crash then, as the man and something more fell to the floor, followed by Yamazaki's slow, quiet footsteps approaching him.
"Not yet. You're not nearly there yet." He spoke evenly, deliberately. "It's far too early... for you to beg for your life."
Sudden movement from Masuya, the sound of a blade scraping against the floor... and Yamazaki's running footfalls. There was an impact, flesh striking flesh and someone hitting the ground with a considerable amount of force. Another impact then, a much more violent one, followed by the audible splatter of what Yamazaki's sense of smell told him was blood.
Another strike, and another, and another, until they became interspersed with pained choked-off moans from Masuya. Yamazaki spoke then, his voice still frigidly emotionless, but with the faint edge of a strain that hadn't been there earlier.
"I'm not really supposed to kill you. Forgive me. I... can't be patient anymore."
One more impact, one more splatter, and the memory faded.