5th Column Comics: Peacekeeper #18
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The grass is real, the smell of the trees are real, even the birdsong is real, and yet despite how convincing this place, this dimensional abnormality is, I have to remember that it’s all a figment of the mind of a woman not much younger then who I’m masquerading as. It’s clear where the road I’m meant to take is, there is a road cutting down into a ravine through the forest. The actual path is made of stone carved into steps that meander around the twisted trunks of the trees, which look almost as if they had been bonsai shrubs before they were allowed to grow out of control. That in itself is disturbing since it shows a high degree of detail has been placed in creating this world.
After fifteen minutes I meet the first aggressive display of Oriana’s power, as I trip and fall down five stairs into a gingko tree. Picking myself up I realise that the stairs are being held up by a human skull surrounded by gravel. Hesitantly I reach out and touch the cranium of the skull, my touch causing its eyes to release a wave of white fog, one that coalesces into seven figures, all dressed in the uniform of ICPD officers.
“This place gives me the creeps.” One of the officers stated, as he stepped through me and peered round the corner. “It’s like the trees have eyes you know?”
“It does remind me of the Aokigahrah Forest in Japan.” Torres announces, as she checks the clip in her pistol. “Some call it the Suicide Forest, lots of people go there to end it.”
“That doesn’t sound like a real thing.” Another officer announces, as he slips on the same step I tripped over. “Jeez who built these things, it’s like they designed them to be a death-trap.”
“Or created.” Torres replies. “GPS says we’re still in Indigo City limits despite appearances.” She adds as something moves in the trees above them, the motion causing everyone to look up. With a snarl a figure dressed in a white robe, its face covered in an operatic kabuki mask, as it leaps through a SWAT officer, before vanishing, its victims body reduced to bare bones, the skull rolling down the steps before being slotted under the steps.
“What in the…” One of the officers asked, as the bones shuddered. “Levinson are you…” He stopped as a robe weaves itself around the bones, a mask forming where the skull was before juddering to its feet.
“Oh my god.” Torres whispers, as she backs away along with the other officers. “RUN! Cassie RUN!!” She screams before vanishing, just as a figure identical to the one risen from Levinson’s body scrambles out of the stone. Sprinting down the stairs, my breathing heavy I look and see my pursuer gliding behind me, neither dropping back nor gaining. Focusing back on the steps I slam into something heavy, and look up to see the roots of an oak twisting down around the steps to form a tunnel of living wood. Yet it’s not the tree I ran into, there hanging from the living cathedral around me are five bodies, all belonging to the SWAT officers who entered the warehouse.
“Who are you?” I yell at the figure standing behind me. “What did you do here?” I add, as it glides toward me, only for me to turn around and rip the mask off to reveal a familiar face, albeit not one of Torres or any of the others, but rather my own face, or at least the one of Terra. “You’re not real, I know where you are and you aren’t here.” I spit, the body collapsing to reveal behind a gleaming omamori good luck token spun from golden spider silk on the stone floor. Pausing for a few seconds I pick it up, and tie it onto the handle of one of my tonfas. “I will free you if your spirits are trapped here.” I whisper to the dead officers, “I will avenge you if they are not.”
**
I continue my path down to the ravine, but this time I’m not alone, being well aware of the kabuki masked figures following me, their numbers growing as I walk through an orchard of cherry trees, each one containing a figure mummified in the bark. At the moment they don’t seem to be a threat, although their presence and silent step make them highly unnerving. That isn’t helped by what I see when I reach the ravine. There crashing hundreds of meters below is what can only be described as a river on steroids, every inch of it white-water save for the jagged needle like rocks jutting up out of the riverbed. And while the bridge, an ornate Japanese style structure decorated with what look like arm bones across the length, look sturdy I know that it could vanish within seconds of me stepping onto it.
Cautiously I step out, and as I predicted the bridge vanishes, replaced by a line of paper lanterns hanging on a thread that crosses the ravine. Grabbing hold I knock three of the lights off, and watch in horror as they transform into human bodies dressed in Mattock body armour, before they hit the water, their screams echoing around the cliffs. To make matters worse the first of the Kabuki masked figured is moving onto the cable with all the grace of an Olympic gymnast.
“Cassie down here.” Torres’s voice yells, and I look down to see her crouched on a rock in the river. Shaking my head I look down the line at the multitude of lanterns, each one containing a spirit, before closing my eyes and dropping, my feet hitting the floor within seconds. Opening them, I find myself standing by the river, now gentle looking into the water at my reflection.
“So what do I do next?” I ask as I look up at the stairs carved into the rock of the cliff.
“You die.” My reflection replies, as she reaches up with a hand made of water raised up grabbing me by the neck and dragging me down into the river. As my body hits the bed, the hand pushes me into the stones causing my body to fall onto another floor.
“Get dressed quickly Cassiopeia Chan.” A voice booms, as I look around the room I find myself in a small room absolutely naked. Flicking through the clothes available I instinctively stop on the traditional white kimono and slip it on, before feeling my back itch and a pair of butterfly wings emerge. Picking up my tonfas, I head out the door behind me, and onto a theatre stage, the seats filled with people wearing costumes from feudal Japan. I recognise some such as Wind Duster, Stallion even Clive and Mayday, and while there are many faces I don’t know, I can make a safe bet that they are all from Indigo City.
“Cassiopeia Chan.” The voice calls, causing me to turn to see Torres, now dressed in an American naval uniform. “This is Oriana, my lover.” She adds as a woman dressed like a shrine maiden steps forward, a look of complete innocence spread across her face. Despite that I’m not fooled by that look, I’ve used it many times before and it does nothing to hide the power radiating off of her. “I know you waited, and I know what I said about not being a lesbian, truth is I’m just not a lesbian for you.”
“You’re not?” I ask quietly, as my tonfas morph into a short dagger, my hand gravitating towards it. “Why?”
“Because you’re a ghost.” Torres answers, as a trio of the Kabuki masked figures emerge, a mirror supported between them. Looking at the reflection I see my face morph to form the same kind of mask they are wearing. Carefully I touch it, and feel the coolness of the hardened ceramic under my fingers, a wave of despair rushing through my body like the north wind.
“She’s the only thing that’s kept you going isn’t she. Well now she’s mine and you have nothing.” Oriana states in a voice dripping with malice covered with innocence, as I draw the knife and hold it against my neck, the omamori hanging from the hilt.
“It’s time my butterfly.” Torres adds, as she passionately kisses Oriana on the lips. “Time to give up and accept that I’ll never be yours.”
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