Dai followed without complaint. The transfer student was the most level-headed of them all as well as the one who took the initiative first. Besides, they can’t just stand around all day, thinking of a plan in the middle of what seemed to be a ruined down town. Sometime later, when the group stopped by the crumbled remains of Nichibotsu police station, Dai saw something peeking from beneath the rumble – a bow and, with a bit of dusting, a quiver with a number of arrows inside. Taking his discovery as weapons, he tested the familiar strength of the string that joins the two ends of the bow. A pretty basic practice bow; he really needed to rejoin the Archery club when this whole shindig is over.
As he slung the quiver over his shoulders, he jumped when he heard panicked voices and sobs. "STOP, DO NOT LOOK AT THE TVS!" It was a heavy warning that rose over the noise followed by the sound of shattered glass. He whipped around fast enough that he could feel another headache making its way through. Right in from of several televisions were his fellow teammates, each one expressed various degrees of shock. Some looked numb, some looked pained. A couple of them even vandalized what remains of an electronic store.
Ah hell. Was everyone having a psycho breakdown!?
“Hey! What's wrong?” Dai hurried over to the classmate whose chest heaved heavily with a broomstick in her hands. Next to her were two smashed television sets.
He tried his best to heed the warning about the TVs, but as fate has it or a sick higher being's source of entertainment, this is one situation that can’t be avoided. A single television tumbled out of the shattered display and landed right into his line of sight. Oh god, is that--?!
=======Memory Begin========
Their nails were perfectly polished. Intricate designs of flowers and bright colors all within the lines. Oh how entirely sharp it felt as they dug into his skin. Little Dai had no other choice. His capturers towered over him, looking bigger than life itself. Clammy elongated limbs colored his cheeks black and blue with their crab-like pinches.
“Roast pork! Dumplings! Brown sugar and bacon!” Food after food, it was a list that never seemed to stop. The elderly spoke as if they were words to a wicked language. With no signs of hunger, the boy looked pale and pasty. “Lemon! Apples! Turkey and samples!”
“MOM. MOOOOOOOM!” The child twisted and turned against the wrinkled flesh. The strength of these ladies were no joke. Their boney hands, covered in liver spots and moles, were bound to leave bruises from the way they tightly held down his flailing arms. As he peered over his shoulders, a slender silhouette waved in the distance before it turned around and leaved. He shouted at the figure; his voice flushed away by the overflow of chants. His shoes squeaked against the ceramic tiles, leaving scuff marks in his wake to stop his fate, but it was all done in vain as flames soon licked his soles. Wait, flames?
“Oh sweetie pie! Kabobs! Rosemary chicken!”
The child squeaked; the pupil of his eyes trembled when they opened in horror. A swirl of red and orange and yellow spewed embers that melted spots into the tiles. A face of many years pressed her lips against his cheeks; his bruises throbbed painfully beneath the tomato-red lipstick. Her smile was that of decay, a pale yellow like wilted flowers, as she pointed at him with a withered finger so fragile it look as if it could break in two.
“B A R B E Q U E.”
=======Memory End========
His face was an interesting shade of green as Dai quickly turned off the television set; albeit, in a much more peaceful manner than what some of his classmates did. One end of his bow ended up pushing the switch; a single screen turned to static.
What the heck was that? Dai rubbed the palm of his hand against his forehead. It was... The broadcast - what was shown - was something he had experienced. It all felt familiar, a strange sense of bitter nostalgia. The flames, the chant, the pain. No, it did happen. He was sure of it. How else could he be experiencing a burning sensation on his arms, on his legs, right this second? The slow chants of cracked voices that kept echoing in his ears... But has it always been like that? Slowly, he shook his head as he heard Shinku and, taking a deep breath, turned to face her.
“So, uh, you hate crazy old ladies too?” Dai let out a nervous chuckle; although, from the looks of his classmates and the tone of Shinku’s voice, this was clearly not a time for jokes. What they had seen was entirely different from what he had experienced if the broadcast had left this much of an impact. But everything felt so surreal. A crazed rumor turned out to be true and so much more. Black entities, giant holes, a messed up Nichibotsu. Could all this be real? With a sigh, he glanced at the others and ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck, I don’t know anymore. Something is messing with our heads.”