Satanophany: Hell’s Blade

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: dreamscape

Karen Kirishima is tasked to gather info on a man supposedly part of the illegal organ trade. Does her own way self jeopardize the mission? Based on a manga whose spelling is also SATANOPHANI. WORDS – 2250.

Based on the Yamada Yoshinobu manga

 

Ultra-luxurious doesn’t jibe with the room but neither does spartan.  

 

Takagi, a twenty something sporting glasses. Carries a scholarly air about him. He and another sit before a laptop as he issues a briefing. ‘…intel sent in these photos. Person of interest one: Okura Jurobei. A salary man on vacation. The only thing not arousing suspicion is he a salary man.’ A term for white-collar worker. ‘Gone off the grid, a ghost. The following made it odd for our superiors.’

 

Takagi switches the photo to another man. ‘Person of interest two: Nakanishi Kiyoemon. A seedy figure to say the least. On the surface passes himself off a junior exec. Our evidence implicates in the human organ trade. Vague clues point to unknown connection to Okura. Good intel sniffed his location. The higher ups want you to engage this man for basic info only. You are expressly NOT to stir things up. Once you return we’ll plot our next steps. Questions?’

 

The addressee, a young woman flirts, ‘By the looks of it haven’t had a woman’s hands caress you in ages.’ The man is shaken and hesitant. ‘Have eyes only for me.’ She less flirtatiously inquires if she a monster. The man ducks a real response.

 

As if mustering a will to resist, ‘Take my word, exist vested interests with a lot riding on this than you unaware of.’

 

Next finds her attire making her plain Jane. He derisively, ‘Beauty fades, dumb is forever.’ 

 

Karen Kirishima closes the hotel room’s front door behind her. She’s in the hallway, fresh coat of lipstick. Takagi breathes a sigh of relief. There something he knows about this stunningly beautiful woman?

 

Stunning is not enough superlative. Looked born to gratify the flesh and transfix the eye. Ginormous fun bags on her chest and equally big hips – flawless hourglass figure. Plane Jane attire wasn’t going to defy shape like that. Small mouth below a small nose and above that spell bindingly attractive irises and thin eyebrows. Hair down to the middle of the back, uncountable strands reaching down the forehead past the eyes.

 

‘Good to take fresh morning air.’

 

Find her outside a fashion store. Flip a page, out she comes in an alluring, elegant dress. Heels complement the sight. From her big purse takes out a perfume bottle.

 

A man says she smells nice, the girl says perfume does that to a girl. Gave her name as Laura. He laments a bar like this would be amiss if he didn’t get her a drink. No one would expect in the car park Laura has him straddled in his Nissan March, right? ‘You got me now,’ he laughed.

 

Couldn’t happen to a luckier pussy man, he thought. Their hands clasped tougher, fingers intertwined. 

 

‘Making the most of it…Kiyoemon.’

‘Know my surname?’

 

Yells in pain, mixed in sound of bone crunching. His scream smothered by her own mouth over his. His hands crushed, squeezed under prodigious strength. In a while released her mouth not her grip. ‘Spit it out.’ She inquiries about what she calls the ring.

‘You’ll kill me.’

‘Damn straight.’ Grinning, ‘Pleasure before the end is the joy of living no?’

‘They’ll make you scream, cursing your mother who bore you before death!’ He had it in him to threaten.

 

The girl tilts her head up at the prospect, excitement expressed as sadistic glee, licked her lips, ‘You have good sense. I’m getting wet thinking about it!’  

 

Back in the hotel Takagi is miffed on her failure to return. Stared at his watch a moment. ‘Was to find the man and report back, no theatrics! Damn! Who in their right mind at Itsubishi Industries dreamed good idea letting her run solo?!’ Takagi is ever more flustered, ‘Where can that Kirishima be? Damned strumpet! Failed to respond’ – under ominous tone, ‘Harlot! Does know we can end her?’

 

Takagi is one scientist intimately involved with the goinons at Haguro. Participating as an observer in his first murder experiment their expressed opposition at brainwashed young girls killing each other. Didn’t last long.

 

Himself a victim of the good doctor. The chief scientist and daughter of the prison warden. Trapped him and screwed his memory via brainwashing machine, the Synapse Repositioner. Good boy ever since.  

 

Torture works or she wouldn’t arrive outside the organ building. Organ trading is not a huge criminality in Japan yet Karen is in front one nest.

 

Makes her way inside – not via the front roll up door entrance, side windows are a thing. Landing on her feet, surveys the surroundings. A mix of somewhat run down and lab. Nobody home, she finds a metal door inside but a no go as electronically sealed.

 

Next documents from folders are splayed, revealing documents originating from the metallic office file drawer, the lock asunder, ripped out by some irresistible force. Retrieving from between the breasts, hidden behind the outfit her miniature Minox camera. Another item bought. As a cold war spy, snaps them and the place, then returns folders to the drawer.

 

A door is heard to open, accompanied by footstep sounds getting closer - rest of the gang arrive. All looks normal till seeing an elegantly dressed woman emerge from the shadows. Surprised, ask her identity, instead, ‘Tsk-tsk. Some very powerful parties suspected you’ve been naughty and I got proof.’ She awaited their arrival.

 

Realizing this whoever knew were an organ trafficking ring, elect catching her. A menacing chill directed at this slender, harmless looking lady. Reaches into her purse producing the torn off head of the dearly departed Kiyoemon. A man screams. ‘Pal said Mr. Okura Jurobei is here. Take me to him.’

 

One of several girls serving a life sentence at Haguro Prison. A woman responsible for dozens of dead, many her lovers whose eye balls removed for a collection, fittingly a serial killer. Shot by police girls, assumed dead yet lived and was taken into the prison program. A program rivalling what these men do. Walls of Haguro prison see the girls in murder experiments, nightly fights to the death, minds tinkered with by doctors like Takagi. For the girls are implanted into their minds a murder model, influencing personality and habits. Hers "Moon Maniac", Albert Fish.

 

Yelling a man swings with his metal baton. Grabbed, is shoved into the owner’s rectum, reduced to agonized squirms on the floor.

 

Being of the cauldron called Hell, here stands its infernal blade.

 

By strength avulses a man no blood on her. The others naturally seem to loose heart.

 

Blushes in an arousing manner a few moments followed by the tongue sticking out her angelic face in sadistic glee, fondling herself, ‘Come on. Gotta make the most of this. Dickheads don’t come along every day. That all you made of?’ relishing a fight.

 

Winces from a couple Hamada Type pistol delivered bullet strikes, ‘Supposed to tickle?’ she says sweetly proceeding to tear a man’s jaw away by a single hand motion. He stood enraptured by a seizure’s jerking movements. Other than monster strength has a healing factor, but if not given a chance to heal, dies.

 

Could the jawless, blood on his clothing and floor, in his state fathom much as she grabbed him, his body a meat shield taking two more bullets to the back as she charged the shooter smashing both into a wall cabinet in an audible crash, crushingly? One handed, tossed a sap upward into the roof, the velocity leaves him splattered still inside the building, look up to see gnarly blood and guts sticking to the ceiling. Bloody finally disposes of the rest save for baton man. 

 

Dragged by a metal baton still stuck up the rectum, his mind distressed, his ass pained. She stops at a door and politely asks the numeric code. ‘H, h, he’s in there,’ he says after. Karen photographed as she went dragging – actually she held onto the baton still up the rectum, with one hand pushing the fella along the floor like a hockey puck aways through the room – the organ room, fate adamant more horror. Medical instruments and parts – body parts, reside. She halts barely looking their way. The badly wounded and weak victim Okura to the side. He lies on a medical bed; bandaged, IV drip and electrocardiogram EKG machine hooked up. Its beeps mournful as him.

 

Speaking weakly, speaking must be pain, ‘They, him, did this. Found me when I offered an organ for money. Was j, j, just one, no more. Betrayers. Wanted money for family…won’t see them no more, too many organ gone.’

 

Plead of mercy, ‘K, k, kill me.’ The agonized killer bit her lip.

 

Returning to the hotel hours after supposed to the outside, the window a cloud shrouded moon. Takagi opens his mouth. No surprise he dispositive, ‘You can’t gallivant as you want damn you! Huh a new dress?’ seeing the holes in it, ‘What?’

Cutting off, Karen tosses the Minox he barely caught, ‘Have fun with that. The boys will be happy to know Kiyoemon part of a ring.’

On her bed Karen is, eyes at the ceiling but staring no, her face pondering.

 

Author’s note – made the document old year’s day but began writing in earnest a few days ago – wanted to peg a story to that day.

No harm reading my first Satanophany called Innocent Dagger. This second story I hope managed action, horror, mystery and depths of inhumanity well – spark was reading the Karen scenes in the manga aboard the cruise ship, chapter 65 probably most influential was where after sexing four people, killing three, the tattooed man threatens her, Karen in sadistic glee relishes fighting his organization Tendougumi – her mannerism, her obvious pleasure that moment…

This story parallel’s my The hardest: scientific good sharing a theme of human body parts. I ask you the reader to learn about the organ trade and the effect it can have. The beauty fades line comes from Judge Judy’s novel - Sunday, 12 January 2020.

 


Submitted: January 12, 2020

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