Stray

You feel an unfamiliar thud as your tires go over a bump you swore wasn't there. You bring the car to a slow stop and toss your phone onto the passenger seat, illuminating the car interior. Looking into the rearview mirror you see a black lump dimly lit by the orange glow of the streetlights and the glaring red of your car's brake lights. You put the car in park and, leaving it running, step out as the low, rumbling engine interrupts the otherwise quiet street. You aren't sure why, it's just a feeling. The rain soaked street lies empty except for a small red spot reflecting in the lights. Movement to your left draws your eyes to a shadowy figure limping into the alleyway.

What am I doing? you think as you leave your car and follow the feline into the alley. Peeking around the corner of the building, your eyes track the hobbling cat as its coat blends in with the darkness and its smell blends with the trash strewn about the alley. Down the alley it went, each paw dragging it along little by little into the increasing darkness. A single light briefly illuminated the walking corpse as it turned, pulling itself around the corner and behind the building. The cat out of sight, you stalk slowly, carefully, as if the soft sound of shifting gravel or the sharp sound of crushing glass might breath new life into its half crushed body and scare it away.

You freeze halfway down the alley, uncertain of the new sound in the darkness. It comes again and you recognize it for what it is - the soft mewing of a cat. Soft, strained, it comes again. And again. Abandoning stealth but still holding to caution, you finish the rest of the alley at a walking pace.

Turning another corner you find a service area in the back of the building: a loading area with dumpsters and boxes and crates and pallets, everything pushed and stacked neatly together and illuminated by a single, uncovered yellow bulb. In the middle of it all lies the cat, struggling to stand as its body trembles and blood pools on the asphalt under it. You arrive in time to witness its last mew, a death rattle piercing through the droning sounds of the city. Its will finally giving out, the black cat collapses onto the ground.

You approach, awaiting the moment the cat pops-up and runs away, or launches itself at you full of claws and fur and fury. Instead, you find exactly what you deep-down knew you expected to find. Death is all that remains of the stray. All falls silent in mourning for a second as you stare transfixed at the passed stray. Two seconds. Three seconds. Then a single ear-piercing Meow! cuts through the roar of the faraway engines. All falls silent again as if maybe it never came at all, perhaps just a haunting echo of your accidental victim. Another Meow!, different, closer another cat responding. A heartbeat later, another answer, closer than the last.

You turn to see a cat saunter into the service area from the alleyway. Another Meow behind you brings your eyes to one sitting on a stack of pallets. A dull thud reveals another walking along the top of a dumpster, yellow eyes glaring at you. All the while, the cries turn into an almost tangible cacophony that fills the air as more and more cats add their voices to the choir for one of their fallen brethren. Every time you turn to face a new sound or just the tingling sensation of a new pair of eyes on your back, a new cat appears to greet you with accusing eyes. More and more fill the once nearly empty area: they line up on a low wall or sprawl on the raised dock or just pace in circles. Always appearing the moment before you turn to see where they might've come from, like a magician through a trap door, or the devil. It only takes a minute or two for the alley to fill with them, cats of all shapes and sizes and colors, but all crying vengeance, not only for their kin lying dead at your feet, but all the others throughout the city, the country, the world. Strays they are called and yet how can they be strays when the very Earth itself its theirs?

The discord symphony fills your ears and cuts to your soul. As you stand at the center of the chaos and wonder what kind of God could deny their pleas, a charge rips through the air and you know that someone or something has answered. The pool of blood around the deceased glows a red that fills the alley, becoming a tower of light shining through to the dark skies above. Throughout the city, similar lights illuminate the night. The passed cat in front of you falls into the light, sinking into the glow until it disappears from sight.

The cries of the cats are drowned out momentarily by a single, hair-raising roar that sends a shiver down your spine. A shiver that jolts your feet to move but not before you witness the claws that rise up from the light. Its razor-sharp points dig into the asphalt, cutting into it like butter, or parting it like flesh. The terror consumes you as you run, that innate nature built into all prey that overwhelms them with fear when they know the predator has set its sights on them.

Down the alley and back onto the street, the night trades its midnight black for a hellish red. Dozens of demonic roars drown out the city, replaced by terrified screams of the soon-to-be deceased. You jump back into your still running car and sit petrified, awaiting the moment the screams stop, dreading the silence of extinction soon to come.




Happy Halloween! So, Stray has actually been sitting unfinished in my notebook for the past year as I planned to write it for last Halloween. Well, better late than never I guess. I also finally got a picture of a cat to use. It would've looked better if it were still lying on its side, but got up once I got close. I've also been reading this book series "The Others" by Anne Bishop about humans evolving along side other shapeshifting creatures that control the world which helped to me finish up the story.

Grand Adventure Day 7: Travel Issues

I actually managed to wake up to my alarm to get an early start in rearranging and repacking all my stuff: making sure the bottle of coconut wine? alcohol? liqueur? Ben gave me wouldn't break, trying to figure out how to separate my dirty and clean clothes, etc. I got that last part figured out by dumping all my dirty clothes into the giant plastic bag I got when I bought my new backpack from Don Quijote the night before. Huh, I guess I left that part out about last night.

This is my old, and current, backpack. I would forget to remove those pins on all 4 plane rides so I'm really happy they never got confiscated, especially the ADIDAP pin (I think Nozomi and whoever it was she collaborated with only had 100 or so of them made). I've had this backpack since high school and it's gotten me through high school, college, every, single one of my trips, and just carrying stuff to the office everyday. Why is any of this important? Earlier in the trip, I did buy a smaller pack I could slip onto my belt but then gave up on it and still continued to lug around this backpack. Jacob and Ben would make jokes comparing it to a parasite that I couldn't get rid of. As funny as it was at the time, it might be true as the night before I went looking for another cheap backpack to replace it. Unfortunately, the new backpack I picked up at Don Quijote turned out to be not as big as my old backpack so it wasn't holding all my stuff. I ended up dropping the brand new bag in a pile of stuff on a counter in the hostel for things people were leaving behind. One day I'll figure out how to leave this one behind.

After figuring out how to get everything packed up again, I made it to Shibuya Station. Not wanting to take the local train, I decided I would pay the extra cost to ride the nice NEX train again with it's cushioned chairs and wifi. Unfortunately, I couldn't find where to buy the ticket so I ended up walking through the entire station using my Suica card thinking I might find an office somewhere inside. I did not. With time dwindling down, I just decided to jump on the train and play the "dumb foreigner" card, which, if you were with me at anytime this trip, you know just how easy it is for me to do. Almost as soon as the train started moving and the thought crossed my mind, "I hope no one comes around asking to see my ticket," the train-guy came by and asked to see my ticket. I shrugged my shoulders and showed him the Suica card. He shook his head and explained that I was supposed to buy a different ticket for this train. In English, if you're curious. My Japanese didn't suddenly become fluent, conversational, or even existent in just one week. Then he told me to just give him money. I don't remember the amount, but I do remember thinking, "Is this guy asking for a bribe?" Well, I gave him the money and he gave me a ticket and walked away.

Airport security from Japan to Korea was a little different than from the US to Japan. They let me keep my shoes and belt on as I walked through the scanner. They also confiscated my back-up lighter, something about you can only carry one. With no where to go for the next couple hours, I walked in circles catching Pokemon. I slept a lot on the plane ride from Japan to Korea. A lot. Way more than I normally sleep on planes and the flight was only 2-3 hours long. I mostly remember the food being a lot better than any plane food I'd eaten in a long time.

I was in a daze getting off the plane. As I mentioned before, I'm an excellent sheep so I just followed the line of people through customs and immigration and all that stuff. Knowing what I knew now about phone service (and how much I was going to need it), I decided on renting a portable wifi ... thingy from one of the kiosks at the airport. Then, I spent at least 15 minutes trying to work out if it was worth paying $50 a day for the next week and a half for the device and if I instead could figure out another way to get cheaper service before remembering about exchange rates and the 5000won/day price is closer to $5/day, not $50/day (not necessarily my fault since I'd been in Japan where 5000yen is close to $50).

A woman at a counter directed me on which train line to take to get to the hostel in Hapjeong (I'm going to misspell a lot) and she even gave me a map of all the lines which I would carry everywhere. In a just over a week, through all the folding and unfolding, I would eventually tear that paper in half. From Hapjeong station, it was just a short walk from the station to the hostel. All the exhaustion from traveling and walking though seemed to hit at once, built up as if all the energy I had just ran out at the same time. I really only remember getting through the front door and being greeted by the woman who ran the hostel. She briefly showed me around: the kitchen, the rooms, the bathroom, the showers. Then I tossed my stuff onto the floor and passed out on one of the beds with a heatpad already going, something about knowing I was from Hawaii and I was going to need this for the cold.

Grand Adventure Day 6

I woke up the next morning to this message from Ben

The times are a different since I took the screenshot after I got back home

Obviously, finding out the rest of this story jumped to priority number one. Actually, deciding on something to do that day was the first priority, but then finding out the rest of the story was a very, very close second. We decided to meet over at the Ueno station Starbucks as that was the closest station for all of us to then make out way to the Sky Tree Jump store. After meeting up, it was story time:

Ben checked out of the Wise Owl Hostel the day before and checked into a capsule hotel. I've never been in one before, but the pictures outside the door made it look really nice. That night, he awoke to a loud thud right outside his capsule. Then came the sound of running water splashing on the floor outside, except that it's hitting the floor with some force, harder than it should if someone was just pouring it out of a bottle or a can. And it was going on longer than the amount typically found in a generic vending machine bottle. Like any sane person, and as I've personally done many nights back home, he sat in his bed listening to the commotion outside and hoped that whatever it was would just resolve itself and go away. Instead, after the water stopped and a brief moment passed, a head poked through his capsule's curtains. Then a neck. Then shoulders. Ben started yelling, but the guy just kept crawling into the capsule, drunk and oblivious. Ben began kicking at him: head, face, neck, shoulders, whatever his feet could connect with. The guy was apparently too drunk to feel anything though and kept crawling further and further inside. Once he was halfway into the capsule it became obvious that he wasn't going to stop. Fearing that he might get trapped there, Ben knew it was time to give up. Defeated but not beaten he gathered up his stuff and got out, making sure to punch and hit the other guy the entire way out. Avoiding the lake of piss that stretched almost from one side of the hallway to the other, he went to the receptionist desk who first stupidly asked if he wanted another capsule right next to the one he had just come from. I think in the end he ended up with a bed far away from the incident. Oh, and if you don't believe me

Relax, the censor is just there because I'm not sure of Blogger's nudity policy (no I'm not going to read it) but just in case there's something about buttcracks and ballsacks, I decided to cover it up rather than risk an awkward email.

Still in Ueno, we ate some cheap and delicious donburi at one of the food stalls in the swap meet-like area. All the food in the area was pretty cheap which was probably due to the small sizes of the stalls (meaning a lower rent, I assume). Each stall looked like it could only pack in about a dozen customers at a time, as long as they didn't mind bumping elbows a lot. The bowl I got was probably between 500-700 yen (~$5 to $7) with the three different types of fish. Plus, look, I remembered to take a picture of food!

The Jump Store in Sky Tree was a little underwhelming mostly because I hadn't been watching as much anime as I used to so I didn't know a lot of the merchandise they were selling. And the ones that I did recognize, I didn't like the things they were selling them on. Somewhere else in the mall, we found another store selling items related to anime and videogames so I ended up buying some toys from there.

We took pictures and hung out outside the Sky Tree, then headed to Asakusa for food. Walking down the street, there were a lot of good and tempting places to eat at. We chose a ramen place which was good because, even after all these days in Japan, I still hadn't eaten ramen yet. I got to watch Jacob and Ben talk and joke with to the two older Japanese women who ran the place. Of course the women laughed, impressed by their fluency. Once again, I tried to make a mental note that maybe I should try to learn/relearn another language (note: a year later, I've done none of that). After food, we went for another walk, this time around a shrine in the area (no, I didn't look up the name). I remembered to take some pictures though not a lot of them and none of any of us. We also pulled fortunes and, almost as if it knew the boring, plain, mundane person I am, I pulled a "Regular Fortune" with the most basic of consequences: things will happen to you. That's it.

From Asakusa, we took the train to Shinjuku and walked around the Golden Gai for a bit, looking to grab a drink. It's about the size of one city block just filled with different, tiny bars and narrow alleyways. Literally, every single doorway was the entrance to another, different bar. There was even a map at the entrance to help people find a particular bar. With all the regulations back home, I don't think I'd ever see anything like that anywhere else. Just that many different, independent establishments, most of which were just a bar and some stools, operating, competing for business in the same area. Instead of grabbing a drink there, we headed to Gusto's Family Restaurant and hung out in a booth for an hour and a half (because there's a time limit). Also, I learned that there is a reason a drink is only 300 yen (or was it 100 yen), those didn't go down too well, in terms of taste. We found a cheap place in the area to do karaoke before heading home. It was the perfect way to end my trip, by doing the ONE thing I honestly planned to do this trip: hang out with people ... in places ... with alcohol.

Once I got back to the hostel, I started to panic seeing all my stuff strewn on my bed, knowing that I would be leaving for Korea tomorrow morning. I tried to ease some of my panic by packing as much as I could. Then I realized how loud I was being, especially on a bunk bed, so I set an alarm early for the next day. Then I ended up lying awake, thinking about how to stuff all that stuff back into my bags. So, in the end, I decided to get my things at least partially sorted before I just gave up and went to sleep.

Monster Under the Bed

I got into Billy's room to find him already in bed and staring at the doorway, waiting for me. He let out a visible sigh of relief as I approached the bed.

"What's the matter, champ? Was the movie too scary?" I asked. Billy just shook his head silently, still staring at me. "Okay, well then sleep tight. And just in case, I'll leave the door cracked open a little. I'm right down the hall if you need me."

As I pulled his blankets up to tuck him in, his little hand grabbed my wrist. Though it was barely able to circle my wrist, it still felt almost vice-like. "Dad," he whispered, "there's a monster under my bed."

Billy and his imagination, I thought as I chuckled to myself. Maybe the movie was too scary for him after all. "Alright, I'll check it out. Just lie down and go to sleep. You've got school tomorrow." Billy reluctantly let go of my arm and grabbed the blanket, pulling it up to his chin. He rolled onto his side, keeping both eyes on me as I ducked my head down under his bed.

My eyes widened in surprise and I suppressed a gasp so not to startle Billy. Either of them. Under the bed, eyes staring back at me just inches from my face. Billy stared back at me, breathing so heavily I could smell the fruity toothpaste he used to brush his teeth.

"Dad," he whispered, "there's a monster in my bed."

My heart raced, the sins of my past coming back to haunt me. I knew that eventually they would find me, though part of me wanted to believe it would never happen. I got out of that life a long time ago. I stared silently at Billy's face for a couple of seconds though it could've been an eternity to the terrified child. Finally, I managed to calm myself and put on my best dad-is-here-to-protect-you face. "Stay here, I'll be right back," I whispered softly enough that the Billy in tucked under his blanket couldn't hear me. I put my finger to my lips, signaling him to stay quiet. He nodded, putting his own finger to his lips, too.

Slowly, I stood up, my eyes meeting the fearful gaze of my son lying in bed. I raised both my hands, palms facing him, trusting him to trust me and to wait exactly where he was. I lowered one hand and brought the other to my mouth, one finger on my lips. He nodded, bringing one finger to his lips, too.

I backed away slowly out the door as not to startle either of them. I took two steps away from the doorway, then placed a hand on the wall to steady myself as panic filled my chest. There was a monster in my house! In my son's room! I staggered and I struggled to keep myself on my feet. I breathed heavily, trying to calm myself and get oxygen back into my brain. I ran down the rest of the hallway to my room. Flinging open the closet door, I started tossing clothes and hangers onto my bedroom floor. I grabbed boxes and cases, tossing those out of the way, too.

Finally I found it: a sturdy, black, nondescript case. I put in the four digit code I hadn't used for over a decade and the cover popped open. Inside were wooden stakes, a hunting knife, several vials of various liquids, and other concealable monster hunting tools. Obviously my bigger weapons were tucked away in a storage locker several miles down the road, except for one or two I kept hidden in the basement. I took a vial on a chain and put it around my neck. I took a silver-edged knife and tucked it behind my back. Then I closed the case. If this monster was anything more dangerous than what I thought it was, I wouldn't had made it out of that room.

I leaned against the closet door and took several deep breaths, steadying my hands. I looked at the mess I'd made: clothes strewn all over the floor, boxes with loose lids spilling their contents. Nervousness almost drove me to break out laughing. It had just been so long since I'd seen any sort of mess in the house. Probably not since Taylor died. Even though I tended to work overtime almost everyday at the factory and Billy was obviously too young to even operate a vacuum, the house was always immaculate and spotless. People would say that it was like magic. I guess maybe it was, I really wouldn't know how it got done.

Relaxed, I walked out of my room and back into Billy's room. I stepped through the doorway, motioning the Billy in bed to stay quiet. I got on one knee next to the bed and smiled at my son. Whispering, I said, "I want you to rollover and pull the blankets over your head. Don't pull them off until I tell you to. Okay?"

Billy looked back at me, tears starting to form in his eyes. But, he nodded, then slowly rolled himself over to face the other way. I helped him pull his sheets over his head. Reassuringly, I placed one palm on his head.

I ducked under the bed to see Billy still staring back at me. "Okay, champ, I'm going to take care of the monster, but I need you to get out from under there and go into the hallway where it's safe." I extended a hand and smiled. Billy nodded and reached out to me. Quickly, I pulled him out and lifted him to his feet. As he turned toward the door, I grabbed the vial of holy water from my necklace and yanked it off the chain, sending the water in a narrow arc. The spots where the water splashed on Billy's back started to smoke as my son cried out in pain, a sound though no human could make. I pulled the silver knife from behind my back and shoved it through the creature's back where a young child's heart would be. The creature fell backwards into my arms, convulsed once, twice, then stopped. Slowly Billy's features melted away and revealing the changeling beneath: three feet tall with gray skin and a pig's snout and tusks.

I lowered the creature to the floor, blood still spilling from the wound. I tried to wipe off as much blood from my hands onto my pants. I stood and leaned over the bed. As I lifted the blanket, Billy slowly sat up and turned to face me. "Did you get it?" he asked hesitantly as he tried to peer around me and over the side to the bed.

"Yeah, the changeling is gone," I said, taking a seat on the bed and blocking his view. I pulled him close. "Don't worry, dad will protect you." I felt him wrap his small arms around me. We stayed like that for a moment. As he pulled away, I held his shoulder a moment longer. "I just need to ask, why didn't you hide in the closet like we practiced?" The boy stared up at me, confused. Then, his eyes widened with understanding. I felt him starting to transform as I brought the knife in my other hand up and drove it into his chest.

Before the body could fully transform to it's original shape, I ran from the bed and flung open the closet door. "Billy, are you alright?" Peering into the darkness, I saw my son sitting in the back of his closet. Then I jumped back as the yellow eyes of the giant serpent appeared in front of my face. The rest of its great body formed a circle around Billy, a one foot gap between it and my son. Toward its middle, I could make out a giant bulge that would twitch ever so slightly. "Dammit Nagaragaca! Get the hell out of my face!"

The snake slithered past me and out into the bedroom where it transformed into a seven foot tall middle-aged man, slender except for the distended belly which he jiggled with his hands. "Look master, I got a third one," he said with a smile.

I just shook my head and turned back to Billy. I extended my hand, then, seeing him flinch, I tried to wipe as much of the blood onto my pants as possible. I reached out again. "Come out, everything is okay now. You were so brave and you did it exactly how we practiced."

Billy slowly stood and reached out to me. I pulled him out of the closet and held him tight, debating on if I would ever let him go ever again. Holding Billy with one arm, I turned to Nagaragaca who was still playing with his belly. "Thank you for protecting my son. Your blood oath is fulfilled. You're free to go." I released Billy just long enough to place my free hand upon his chest.

The other man just shrugged. "So, no more housework. I think I'll grab a beer," was all he said as he headed out the door and probably down to the kitchen.

Finally, I felt Billy's arms let go. I saw him look at the two dead changelings. After a long moment, he said, "Dad, what's going on?"

"I'm really sorry son, but this is all because of a job daddy used to do until he met your mother and well before you were born. I tried to run and hide from it my past, but it looks like they've found me." I looked at my son in the eyes, seeing my wife's strength in them, and silently apologized to her for what I would have to say next. "It seems though that your training is going to have to start much sooner than I expected."




Inspired by Reddit Writing Prompts: in short, "You're child tells you there's a monster under the bed. When you look under the bed, your child is hiding under there and tell you there's a monster in the bed." I actually wrote this one before I did the zombie story, but I meant to go back and expand it and change the ending, but now I figure I'm never going to do that. Just to get it out of the way though, I meant for the changelings to be minor creatures that distracted the retired hunter. After killing the second one, some sort of stronger monster would appear, a vampire or a warlock or something along those lines. Something about the main character having killed it's family and it was there for revenge. When it's revealed that the main character killed the creature's family for enslaving and killing the house elves in the region, the closet door opens to reveal a pocket dimension/house that the house elves he rescued live in (like the tent in the 4th Harry Potter book). Then the house elves restrain/kill the intruder (I didn't decide which). I'm hoping to have one more Halloween story done by tomorrow, but writing is hard.

Grand Adventure Day 5

So the reunion was from Friday to Sunday but of course, it's Japan so I'm definitely staying for a couple more days. Jacob, Ben and I hung out at the hostel for most of the morning which is good since I used that time to catch up with all of this journaling (how else would I even remember what I've been doing for the last several days). For the first time for me during this trip, we ate Sukiya which is amazing since I assumed I would've eaten it more often from just how cheap it is. I got the Unagi-don with some sort of white paste/sauce which I think was pureed radish (as well as gross). I ended up scrapping it off and just eating the eel. We waited on Ben C. by playing video games at several different arcades. I once again learned I really, really suck at fighting games. The three of us had a Pong tournament that I believe Ben won. And we found this complex dual-gun game that if you hold the guns in a certain configuration it changes the firing mode, from single fire to rapid fire to a rocket launcher to a sword.

Sometime in the afternoon, we took the train to the other end of the Yamanote-sen to Ueno. Ben and Jacob would also be staying about a week longer in Japan but were moving to different hostels. As Ben and Jacob checked into their hostels, Ben C. and I wandered around the shopping stalls near Ueno station. It reminded me a little of the swap meets back home, though in more permanent structures. A bunch of stalls selling sweaters and jackets and bags and food and all sorts of other things that I failed to take pictures of. As much as I don't buy a lot of things, I did take a quick look through the jackets, having only brought my uncle's jacket and anticipating that one day, with the traveling I like to do, I should really have my own heavy jacket.

Now, I didn't have a huge list a list of things I wanted to do in Japan, mostly I just wanted to hang out with the people I hadn't seen for awhile, some of them for almost 10 years, preferably with alcohol which, if you've been paying attention, is a goal I'd fulfilled everyday so far. One thing though that I did want to do was go to a sento, or bath house. Seriously, if you've never gone, well, you need to go. At least once, or everyday. It really is one of the greatest things ever. Jacob found one in Ueno close by that we could walk to.

The water though, it felt so good to soak my legs in after all the walking I've been doing for the last several days. In one of the baths with water jets, I just sat with my feet pressed to one of the jets. I chickened out on the freezing cold bath. It was standing at the side of the pool slowly dipping a toe in, trying to work up the courage to jump in when this Japanese guy came in, dumped a bucket of the water on himself and jumped in without any hesitation. At that point, I just said "fuck this" and walked away. The other pool was just a pool filled with hot water that you just sat and soaked in which was relaxing as well. It was also interesting to just sit there, outside, naked, and staring up toward the sky to see the high-rises looming above you and just wonder if those people up there are looking down at you.

I took the train back to Shibuya, doing my best to stay awake after the most relaxing thing I've done all trip (I really should've jumped into the cold bath). I don't know why I did it, maybe I got lost and couldn't find the right bus stop, maybe I'm just dumb. Either way, I ended up walking back from Shibuya station to Wise Owl Hostel instead of jumping on the bus. I put in my headphones and pulled a "Weekend at Bernie's II", the music being the the only thing keeping my feet moving one step in front of the other. I was so relaxed, so tired I almost didn't notice the lady at my side, following me, asking "Handjob? Blowjob?" Oh, huh, I guess I forgot to mention that for a couple blocks on the trek between the station and the hostel were several massage parlors and every night there would be women lined up outside, beckoning. Obviously, they would ask in Japanese first, but once they figured out that I had no idea what they were saying, they'd switch to English, just repeating those two words over and over. I assume she must've been trying to entice me in Japanese before she yanked my sleeve and I probably said something in English, causing her to switch the "Handjob? Blowjob?" repetition sales tactic.

When I got back to the hostel, Ben's bunk (the one under mine) was already taken and that guy was passed out, and snoring. "A challenger for the crown," I thought before falling asleep, already anticipating telling Jacob and Ben tomorrow about this amateur challenging me to a snoring contest.

Grand Adventure Day 4: Sobering

Woke up late and hungover. Hungover enough that I needed to put a lot of focus on my hand to stop it from shaking when I was shaving. That was a lot of fun. I would also drop a contact lens and spend several minutes looking for it. Eventually I found it stuck to the side of the sink so I just rinsed it off and popped it into my eye. Then, I remembered that this is a community sink, but really, what are the chances someone else happened to lose their contact lens too and now I'm wearing someone else's contact lens?

Ugh, just write it. So I'm not exactly sure what lies I told everyone about this morning, but I can guarantee they were all lies. "I thought everyone was busy" or "I didn't know anyone else was awake" or "I just wanted to play Pokemon on my own." All lies. But I'll get to that in a bit. I was sitting on my bed in the hostel, not sure what to do next, but, besides the hangover poking my brain was this nagging feeling that I missed something from last night that I was supposed to remember. Something important. Restlessness set in and I couldn't stay in bed any longer so I left on my own without telling Ben or Jacob where I was going, because at that point I really didn't know where I was going. I did hope that I'd try to see anyone who was still around later on tonight.

Knowing that wherever I was off to, I would first need to get to the train station, I started toward Shibuya station. I stopped at Moss Burger hoping that a burger was what I needed for the pounding in my head. I used what little Japanese I knew to get myself a meal and sat down on a stool to eat and write. I'd forgotten how good Moss Burger is, but I should've gotten that Melon drink. As I made my way closer to the station, I found out that it was the Beldum Community Day, so I caught a bunch of those though only one shiny Beldum.

With my battery nearly dead and the game not as responsive when my phone charges, I decided to find someplace to just sit around all day, partly to rest my legs from all the walking but also just to find someplace quiet. The thing I left out about last night (and started to recall as I wrote about it in Moss Burger) was as we wandered and stopped at konbinis and hung out on corners drinking and smoking, Jacob and Ben pointing out things ... wrong, no that's too strong of a word... well the things that have been bothering me about my own life that I use a constant barrage of distractions (video games, TV, work, drinking, reading, even writing) to make sure I never deal with them. So at least I finally identified that other nagging voice unrelated to the consumption of last night's alcohol.

With all those issues, I decided a park might be the best place to go: they're free, they're quiet, and best of all people leave you alone there. I'm not exactly sure how I thought of it, but I decided to head to Yoyogi Park, not knowing what it looked like but kind of expecting it would be like other giant parks (several years back I went to New York so my idea of "giant park" is Central Park). Of course, I got lost and instead ended up at Meiji Jingu shrine. I think I was supposed to just walk past it but my brain said, "that looks like the entrance to a park because it's got a lot of trees, let's go there." Apparently there was an event, but my Japanese is shit so I had no idea what was happening. Instead of getting to sit around and rest my legs, I ended up spending the whole day on my feet wandering through the shrine, taking pictures that maybe I'll get to use for stories in the future

Meiji Jingu, by accident

Not sure if you can see it, but every one of these bushes had a wooden placard with a different inscription written on them. Sure they might of been the listings of the variety of plant, or it could be the name of someone who made a generous donation. Either way, my imagination took it to those are the names of the person buried under the plant and that particular corpse produces a particular type of strain of the plant. Perhaps it would lead to killing specific people to produce a particular strain of the plant?

Also did do some ... what's the word for it ... reflecting, I guess that's a good word to use. There were several benches along the trail I could sit at, especially when I got lost again. Should I head down this path further and hope it loops back around, or go down the other direction and see what's over there? Why don't you quit your job? I wonder what this line is for (it turned out to lead to a well)? Are you ever going to get a job using your degree?

It was on one of these benches that a little kid ran past me screaming while his parents called back to him to slow down. He ran up the path and behind another bend. His parents turned the corner, smiling, I guess expecting to see their kid but instead found a thirty year old foreigner sitting on a bench. Not wanting to deal with more yelling, I just smiled and pointed in the direction their son was hiding. "Ano," I said as I pointed. I would find out later that the correct word for "Over there" is "Are" as I wanted to say "Are" as in "He's over there." Instead, "Ano" if I remember correctly, is more of a filler word, like "um" or "ah," or, possibly in this particular scenario, "Umm, how about you try watching your fucking kid."

Later that night, I met up with the last group of ... Plume-ers (I'm going to assume that's a word despite the red squiggly line telling me it isn't) still left in Japan for dinner at a cafe. As always, nope don't remember what it was called or even where it was or what I ate.

I remember these people were there

After dinner we walked back to Shibuya station since it was just one stop over. Well, first we, well I know I bought another drink from the konbini (I'm sure other people did too, but I'm still not 100% sure). I love that drinking in the street is completely legal. Walking with friends and a buzz definitely feels a lot better than doing it alone and sober, especially since I'd been doing the latter all day.

The group met up with Ben and Jacob and the last group of us said our goodbyes at Shibuya station since mostly everyone would be leaving Japan the next day, or else had already left. I've never been good with those things - goodbyes. I don't take a lot of things seriously even when I know I should since who knows when I'll ever see this particular group of friends again. I want to say it's because we're all so connected these days, but really it's just that it never dawns on me in that moment that this could be the last time we see each other. And I don't mean that you could die in a horrific accident the next day or something like that (I might, I mean, in more of an embarrassing than tragic way). Just that I always expect there to be another day, so I'm just under the confident assumption that we will all see each other again, even though just getting this much of the group together for this reunion took 10 years, plus a year of group messages (I'm assuming, I'm not taking the time to scroll back through that group chat to find when we first started, it's really long). Maybe it's because growing up, everyone I knew was just an hour drive away at most. But, every other place is really, really far away and you can't just pop-in on your friends in other countries on a whim. So it never occurs to me in the moment that this could be the last time. I mean, I'm hoping it isn't but writing this a year later and older, there's that small, nagging thing in my brain that says it might've been. Or maybe it's a tumor (I'm so much closer to death). Let's just assume it isn't and we'll all get together for a twenty-year reunion and you can all bring your kids so I can overhear conversations like, "That's Uncle Alan, don't go near him, he stopped getting drunk, but now he's just an asshole," just so I can finally end this ridiculously long post on a happy note.

Grand Adventure Day 3: Retrace

Terry and I met up Saturday morning at Shibuya station then took the trains to Hiyoshi to meet up with whoever was free to hang out during the day. At Hiyoshi station, we found Ricarda, Austin, Ben C., Jane, Linda, Sulu and David near the Gintama, the large silver ball. You know, this one

There's no way I could climb that now

So many things looked the same. We grabbed food at the closest Lawson and decided to have a picnic at the bleachers at the Keio Hiyoshi campus track. Even though it was Saturday, there were still a bunch of kids around (I'm thirty-one, those youngsters still in college are "kids"), either practicing or just hanging out as well. Eventually, with the sun beating down on us, we moved into the shade, and then we started our trek to revisit the old dorm. Thinking back, I should've gotten a picture of those damn stairs as it's one of the few things that I really remember about the Hiyoshi campus as the only times I was ever there 10 years ago was to walk through it to get to the Hiyoshi station.

Just before we got there, I stopped for a second to get a picture of Yagami River. After all, I spent a lot of time down there when I was really trying to write seriously. I did debate for a bit about actually going down to the waterside for the nostalgia of it, but it didn't look like they were taking care of my spot with the overgrowth of weeds.

Outside, Plume IS looked the same except that the old ash tray is gone. I was content to look at it from the outside, happy that I'd made the choice to study abroad 10 years ago and that I got my 2nd choice of dorm. Seeing a bunch of foreigners standing outside his house, an older man came outside to, I guess, check to see what we were doing. Someone explained to the new caretaker that we were all together for a reunion and the caretaker invited us inside. Obviously, he confined us to the first-floor lounge but that was still more than I thought we'd get, mostly because I don't think there's a chance in hell that the old caretaker would've let us in (he .... uh... didn't like us toward the end). I would've liked to know if the weird smell was still lingering around the washing machine in my room, but you can't get everything.

taken by the caretaker

The couches and the TV where I spent almost every single night had changed. The vending machine was surprisingly still there. The new caretaker talked with, well let's face it, with everyone else while I stood there like a smiling moron, trying to pick up a word here and there. No, I learned nothing the last time I was here and still haven't learned anything. I did pick up that our year had become a story of legend as he brought up the "firework incident" (at least I'm 90% sure since he mentioned the word "Hanabi"): that night when the cops were called due to some dumb kids launching fireworks at Yagami River coincidentally after we were banned from the lounge after 10pm. I think someone translated later to me that there was actually a log of it in this book he inherited, some sort of incident report I guess.

Afterwards we began the hike to Shin-Kawasaki station. How I managed to walk from the dorm to the station everyday uphill to go to school is a feat I'll never replicate. Back in college, I would skip class if it was slightly drizzling, even if I was already on campus. If you told me that I'd have to do something like this now to get to work, I'd probably quit and find another job. Everything outside the station looked different but inside it still looked vaguely familiar. Also, Terry, I know I said I'd wear the hat because it's funny, but I couldn't. I was too afraid it would make people start talking to me. It is however, sitting next to my desk at work (I look at it and try to figure out why I ever came back from vacation). From Shin-Kawasaki, we rode the train to ... honestly, I have no idea. I want to say Tamachi, but that's probably wrong and possibly not even a real place. Either way, we walked from the station to the Keio Mita campus and then walked more around the campus. I plan before every vacation to start walking more since I'm typically going to be traveling on foot but I never do. This would've been one of those times I shouldn't have neglected the training since I was exhausted afterwards.

For dinner, we met up with the rest of the reunion group at an izakaya close by the campus. Upon getting there, we realized the room we reserved wouldn't hold all of us but luckily, once the party got too big, the owner let us take a couple tables in the main room. I remember getting food on sticks ... and more whiskey highballs. A lot more. After dinner, we grabbed more drinks at the closest konbini, headed back to Keio and hung out in the campus courtyard. Even writing that just now, it feels like I'm making it up: a bunch of foreigners, most, if not all of them, carrying cans of alcohol, just hanging out on a Saturday night on a college campus none of them currently attend. A security guard came by once, but apparently just to tell us to stay out of the buildings, which we immediately disobeyed since that's where the restrooms were. We were there for awhile too. Sorry, it's still insane to my sober brain that no one came by at the very least just to say, "Hey, get the fuck out!" A different security guard even took our picture as we were leaving

A few of us headed over to Shibuya to hang out more and look at costumes and the craziness that was Saturday on Halloween weekend in Shibuya. Sure enough, it was crazy from the moment we got out of the station. Just so, so many people packed together, a lot of them dressed up in costumes ranging from generic store bought stuff to insanely detailed and hand-made. Nope, I completely forgot to take pictures of any of it. I did remember we stopped at almost every single konbini we came across to buy more drinks as we walked around the area and eventually all the way back to to the hostel. We made it back to the hostel and my original journal entry ends there. Michelle reminded me later that Jacob, Ben and I apparently face-timed with her for a while back at the hostel, which I don't remember doing but I assume must've happened.

Grand Adventure Day 2: Games and Reunion

For some reason, I couldn't sleep past 6am so I got up and established the morning routine I would go through for the next several days: wake up, shower in one of the three shower rooms, brush my teeth at one of the 2 rooms with sinks, change my clothes while lying down in my bunk, walk up the hill to the Family Mart to buy onigiri and coffee, play PokemonGo (2 gyms and at least one stop just on that short hill), and eat my konbini breakfast at the bar counter while reading or just staring at the business folk smoking in the smoking area outside. Oh, I forgot to mention, I gave in and rented a portable wifi thing from the hostel for 500yen a day so I got my Pokemon back! and I guess I was able to communicate with the group again. But Pokemon! Definitely the more important of the two.

That morning, Jacob and I walked around Akihabara which didn't look like it changed much since the last time I visited (less kebab stands, I think). Visited the Don Quijote to pick up last minute stuff and wander the aisles. I got nose strips for the snoring. Jacob would later show me and Ben a recording of my snoring from the night before which was surprisingly loud. So those were important. We went to a couple arcades to play video games. If you've been to Akihabara, you know there are way more than "a couple" of arcades. I still suck at fighting games and I'm terrible at rhythm games. That being said, those are the games I ended up playing. The rhythm games were surprisingly fun (usually I just get frustrated and give up). Plus I got to watch some Japanese kids play who were much, much better than me.

picture from Jacob

Here's a picture of one of them, it kind of played like a sit-down version of Guitar Hero with buttons and levers. From what I understood of the video cut-scenes, the storyline involved three high school-aged girls in a band who are trying to fight a witch, I think (my Japanese is non-existent). There was also another one with a circular screen that Jacob played involving touching circles and tracing lines across the screen to a particular song (this would make more sense if I had a video). We saw some kids bringing out their own mittens so their fingers ran smoothly across the screen.

We wandered so far out of the tourist area that we ended up in a business-looking district with business-looking people and not a tourist around. We grabbed lunch at a food truck with other business suits lined up. It was one of the few times I was forced to use what little Japanese I could remember, mostly because Jacob told/forced me to do so. I may have just pointed at a picture. Literally, we were the only people I saw not in business attire and definitely the only people who did not belong there. I'm not even sure what I ate, and sadly I didn't take a picture of it.

After lunch, we followed my PokemonGo map to a HUGE Giratina raid. And by HUGE, I mean it was the largest raid I've ever been a part of. We turned a corner and saw people packed together and setting up to play on all 4 corners of the intersection waiting for the raid to start. We filled the sidewalk, leaving barely any room for anyone to walk by. For those of you who still play, I'm not sure how you do raids, but one of my rules is NOT to interact with people. Yeah, I get it, it's a group thing and we need to work together, but I'd rather jump into the battle, then scamper off back to my car once it's over. Jacob, however is not me, and upon seeing that this was a group endeavor decided to make this feel like a team moment by encouraging the group. "Mina-san! Ganbare!" And as much as I wanted him to stop drawing attention to us, at the same time it was still entertaining to watch him do it. With that many people at the raid though, the Giratina went down quick. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to catch it.

We wandered around more before heading back to the hostel to rest up for the night. On the way back, we came across a few people standing around in a loose circle. I checked my phone and found another Giratina raid that was about to start. This one was smaller, our group I mean, with less than 10 of us standing around in a loose sort-of circle. The Giratina took longer to take down but it was the one I managed to catch. Jacob and I hung out at the hostel for a while more afterward. Eventually Ben also showed up in the bunk below mine.

Finally it was time for the main event: NOMIHOUDAI! PLUME REUNION! The three of us walked down the street to the hotpot restaurant (if you're wondering, no I don't remember the name).

The first of many group pics I will steal from Facebook

It's funny. As I'm basically just rewriting these stories from the journal I tried to keep of the trip, I came across this specific part and apparently I tried to write out the names of everyone who was there that night. Past-Alan instead gave me a short-list (less than half the people in this picture) then literally just wrote, "I'm too hungover right now to remember their names, there's probably more but my head is still killing me from Saturday night. I'll just look at a picture to figure it out." And the biggest issue I have when I look at this picture is I'm sitting somewhere I don't belong: in the middle of the table. I shouldn't be in the middle of anything. I belong relegated to the sidelines to bother the least amount of people. Anyways, the food was good, I guess. I mostly just remember drinking whiskey highballs all night and moving around the table to joke and catch up with as many people as would tolerate my presence. It was fun and really cool to see all of these people again, especially altogether in the same place, something I had doubts would actually happen though I really hoped it would. Obviously it sucks that not everyone could make it, but just to have this many people is pretty amazing. After dinner, some of us headed to a nearby karaoke place to drink more and sing. I mostly remember that I must not have gotten too drunk this night as I distinctly remember participating in a bunch of Taylor Swift songs and "Enter Sandman." I'm assuming we also did some Disney songs and a lot of emo songs from my high school days, but I could be wrong about that. After karaoke, we hung out at Shibuya station for a bit until it started raining then Ben, Jacob and I headed back to the hostel while everyone else got onto the train back to their ... wherever they were staying. It was definitely one of the positives about staying at that particular hostel, I felt that we were right in the middle of everything.

Grand Adventure Day 1: Bearing

I know, I know, I've been lazy and I really should've started this a year ago. But it's 19 days which turns into 19 posts which is more than I manage to write in a year. I don't know, maybe I'll skip the boring days but then that might throw off the continuity (I'll figure it out). Plus, it's all really intimidating when I haven't written anything for as long as I have.

Anyways, let's get this damn marathon started. I was up until 2:30am doing last minute packing and other dumb stuff, like updating my iPod playlists and finishing that post about the trip. Somehow I managed to fall asleep only to be awoken almost immediately by my dad who agreed to drop me off at the airport before his deliveries that morning. I got to the airport at about 6:30am for a 10:00am flight which is great because I don't ... move that early in the morning. I bought a coffee and muffin at the airport and for the next hour and a half, I parked myself in a seat right between two pokestops that some unknown person decided to continuously drop lures onto.

Eventually though, I needed to scout for an outlet closer to the terminal as PokemonGo tends to drain my battery quickly these days. In typical Alan-fashion, the one I found was sort-of broken as I couldn't move the cord too much or it would shift the plug and stop charging. I think I just spent the rest of the time either reading or trying to write a new story. Obviously that didn't go as planned or I would have more stories by now. I did, however, find a bunch of things wrong with the stories I was writing so I guess it wasn't a total loss. With a year to look back on that, yeah it was a loss as I hadn't gone back to fix any of them.

The plane ride was normal. You've been on a plane, you know how it goes. I sat down, they served some shitty food, I got up and walked around the aisle a couple times. I caught up on A.P. Bio and rewatched Ocean's 8. I planned on writing on the plane, but they turned off the lights and I couldn't find that mini flashlight I packed. I fought hard against taking a nap, stupidly thinking that this would throw off my sleep schedule, completely forgetting I was landing in the afternoon and, perhaps, it would be good to have some of that extra energy. Anyways, bad decision.

Once we landed in Narita, I wasn't sure where to go, but luckily I'm a very good sheep and followed the crowds until I retrieved my bag. I mooched off the free airport wifi to get caught up with my texts, Messenger, Line, and PokemonGo (I think I might hang out in airports just to play). Also, by this point I didn't realize my phone wasn't going to work as well as I hoped - that full realization would happen later that night at the worst possible time. So, I'm at the airport trying to figure how to get to Shibuya. I ultimately decided on the train, over-confidently thinking, "Yeah, I've ridden the train before, I know how this goes", though the airport bus looked really, really enticing. I bought a ticket onto the Local train (because I stood for 2 hours with my luggage when I did this ride 10 years ago) but when I found out it wouldn't arrive for another hour, I said fuck that, and upgraded to the Narita Express train. Plus, I remembered from 10 years ago how much I hated standing in the train while making sure my luggage didn't topple over. Luckily, I had yen to pay to change my ticket. Then I got on the train and stared out the window for an eternity (probably closer to an hour, hour and a half?) trying to remember what it was like when I was here 10 years ago.

I wandered around Shibuya station for a bit looking for the correct bus terminal, which isn't necessarily a problem except that I was still lugging my backpack and duffel bag. After a quick bus ride I made it to the Wise Owl Hostel. From the outside, the first floor had a bar with a couple tables, and a check-in counter. It looked more like a cafe than a hostel. The upper floors were the sleeping bunks: just giant rooms with about 50 bunks beds per floor, the beds separated with wooden boards and curtains to provide a sense of privacy for each bunk, each floor with showers and toilets and sinks. I'm also glad I didn't pack an actual suitcase or my larger duffel bag since I slept with all my stuff piled on my bed. Seriously, I need to learn to pack lighter. They set up Jacob and I across from each other on top bunks, and that's where I found Jacob who arrived in Japan the day before and Shibuya earlier that day. I feel like the next thing I did was take a nap, and a much needed shower.

With the hostel's free wifi, we managed to contact Chris who also happened to be in Japan at the same time, and we agreed to meet at the Hachiko statue and find someplace for dinner. Before heading over, I tried to play PokemonGo for a bit (either a tier one or two raid), but then as we got outside the hostel, I realized my phone wasn't connecting to ... well anything. Ugh, it was horrible. I guess it's also bad that I felt so disconnected, and wouldn't be able to contact anyone as quickly and on-demand as I was used to doing. But really, I was sad about not being able to play. Well, since I couldn't play, the two of us headed down to the Hachiko statue and met up with Chris. Then we wandered around Shibuya for a while until we found an izakaya to eat at. I felt like we walked for a while looking for a particular one, but I really can't remember too much about it. I also forgot to write down what we ate and obviously take pictures (people like pictures of food, right), I'm guessing chicken skewers, beef maybe, and a beer I guess (my notes are terrible).

We must've wandered around Shibuya for a while after that before saying goodbye to Chris and heading back to the hostel. We bought a beer at the ... Family Mart I guess since that's the closest konbini to the hostel ... and drank outside the hostel in the smoking area. That was a new thing for me, not the public drinking (I could do that 10 years ago) but the designated smoking areas. I mostly remember people smoking wherever but now they actually go to the areas. Or maybe I was more of an asshole 10 years ago. It says here that when we got back inside, I tried to read a bit of the Jack Reacher book I brought but then just ended up falling asleep. Oh, but I know for sure that I forgot to take pictures. Yeah, I'm not good at remembering that, as you'll see in the rest of these posts (hope you have a good imagination, or were there and just like reading about me describing things poorly and remembering them as if I've got early dementia).




The rest of this doesn't concern the trip, so you can skip it and wait until tomorrow when I'll have Day 2 posted. So, if you read the first Grand Adventure post until the end, are someone I bitch to about my writing problems (I'm sorry), or are an ardent follower of this blog (get a new hobby) you'll know that I've been having some problems writing. No, I'm not sure what it is. Maybe I'm just not writing what I want to write. Maybe I'm just lazy. It's probably one of those things that I have to find a way to work through or just give up on. Either way, it's a thing that's going on. Originally, I meant to write these as soon as I got back, but then it felt like I only wanted to write them because I knew people would read them, which is a stupid concern but a very real one I have (but that's an issue for another time). So, I decided that I would post at least one original story before heading into these. Then I couldn't finish anything that I liked and stalled out on a lot (I'm up to almost a half dozen or so unfinished stuff that I still feel have potential to be just a little worse than decent). By then it felt like it was too late to write these for this blog so I decided not to write them and keep trudging through the other stuff. But then I remembered my Grandma asking when I was going to write the stories from my trip because for some odd reason she likes reading these (I'm guessing because she gets to hear me tell a story without actually having to listen to my voice ... or see my face). And when Grandma asks you to do something, you really should do it. She's the closest in your family to becoming a vengeful spirit and haunting you for the rest of your life. As I write that, now I'm not sure if Grandma enjoys my jokes about death... either way it's fine as I'm definitely in the top 13 of her favorite grandchildren. And I know what some of you are thinking, "Alan, there's only 13 of you," and even more of you are thinking, "I still wouldn't rate you that high." Then I got into a discussion on writer's block and figured that maybe some of it was from keeping all of this stuck in my head so now here we are with all of these days written out. And now we are even further out since I just let them sit unpublished for months, 18 posts just sitting here. So I figured I might as well get them finished up and posted already. And now that we're 1 year to the day, well, now is as good a time as any to get these out of the way.

Zombie story

I strolled casually through the spoils of my herd's latest hunt, surveying our kills and some potential new recruits. They came across a small group of hikers, about a dozen or so at a campsite late at night. I had them probe the campsite's defenses with a couple of our newer members, "Shamblers" I like to call them. I watched them stumble like drunks into the tents, illuminated by the single campfire, searching for the living. First came the shouts of confusion. Then came the screams and cries. When the screams were joined by nothing more than the confident swings of hatchets crushing skulls and the occasional twang of a bowstring punctuated by an arrow impacting grey matter, I sent in the rest of the herd.

It's a common belief that we zombies are nothing more than the walking dead: mindless feeding machines trudging along until we happen across our next meal. While that does describe a good ninety percent of us, it doesn't take into account the other terrifying ten percent. As the rest of the herd stumbled closer and the living prepared for our wall of bodies marching toward them, nothing could prepare them for our Stalkers. We constantly feed to maintain our constantly decaying bodies. The dead aren't meant to walk this land, and thus we need to go to some extraordinary lengths to keep our bodies from falling apart. So we feed and feed and feed. However, when we've fed more than what we need to replace what's been lost, it turns the excess to strengthening our current forms. Eating excess muscle will make a body stronger. Eating excess lungs will provide more stamina. Eating excess hearts will give a body more energy. These were our Stalkers.

From the herd our Stalkers burst forth, surprising the campers and tearing through their line. Without a brain to limit the capabilities of their bodies, they were basically superhuman. I had six within my herd and within a heartbeat, there were six hikers dead before they even had a chance to raise their weapons. Distracted, the surviving hikers panicked and my oncoming herd took them to the ground easily.

I spotted a body twitching, its owner still clinging to life, mouth gaping, unclear if he was trying to gasp for air or scream. It made no difference to me. Several zombies were already on him, pulling at limbs and tearing into his midsection, the soft, easy spots. I shoved two aside and made my way to the skull. I grabbed a rock and delivered glancing blows to the head, attempting to break open the skull while still leaving the brain intact and its owner marginally alive. Finally, I was rewarded with a small fracture. I used my fingers to crack the skull open further and then the rock again as a lever to finish prying it open.

The first time I ate a brain, it was from a corpse dead for a couple minutes but not yet turned into one of the herd. I felt a jolt to my system, like a single neuron firing in an otherwise dead machine. The next time we descended upon our screaming, struggling prey, I made sure to go after the head first before the screaming stopped. It went against all of my instincts. After all, the belly is so much softer and easier and juicier to get into. I did it though, and I was not disappointed. Eating the brain seemed to awaken more of who I used to be. At first I was horrified by the things I'd done. After a time, I accepted my new reality. After several more brains, I began to formulate a plan for my survival.

After finishing a brain or two at the campsite to maintain my intelligence, I found the biggest body of all the campers. I called over my lieutenants, two others I've entrusted with my brain-eating secret. We gathered around it along with the Stalkers, already feasting. Around us, the Shamblers munched on the other corpses. "Any issues?" I asked as I always do after a kill.

"No problems at all. We lost just over a dozen Shamblers, but nothing we won't be able to replace within the next two or three hunts, depending upon how many more campers are left in these woods," replied Curtis before biting into an arm. I could see that there was more on his mind so I stared at him until he started talking again. "I say it every time, but we can overrun the Breathers. We are stronger, faster, smarter. It will be easy."

"Delusions of grandeur," I mumbled, cracking a femur in half and sucking out the marrow. Curtis growled at me. Several heads turned to face us for a second before going back to feeding. The rest of the heads never even looked up from their meal. "Your entire grandiose plan of overthrowing the living is a pipe dream." I looked to my other lieutenant and the Stalkers around our corpse. "I propose instead that Curtis get all the brains from the next kill just so he can see how stupid his plan really is."

Curtis shoved me and I went tumbling backwards. I stood up and dusted myself off, a useless habit as I was perpetually covered in filth not to mention the constantly rotting flesh. I was regretting my choice of making Curtis one of my lieutenants, a problem I would need to deal with sooner rather than later. "Taking out The Breathers by force won't work, not yet. We don't have the numbers yet to overrun them. We need to keep them in fear of the Shamblers and not let them know about us or the Stalkers until it is too late for them to do anything about it. If they discover us and start killing us en masse, we'll need to start rationing the brains. After all, eating one ensures one less body to join the herd."

Curtis abandoned the corpse and moved toward me. I could feel the tension grow as this might ultimately come down to a fight for control of the herd. Before either of us could make a move though, gunfire erupted from the trees, muzzle flashes bursting like supernovas in the midnight darkness. I watched the herd drop to the dirt, heads exploding and chest cavities erupting. Rifles clicked empty when Curtis ran into the darkness toward the rifles. First came one scream, then another. Curtis was not as fast or strong as our other Stalkers but he was still faster and stronger than a living body. I heard empty magazines release and new magazines lock-in before the empty ones hit the ground. Gunfire started again, but they would be lucky to hit him, having only returned the rest of my herd to the ground with the element of surprise.

Unlike Curtis though, I was a survivor. I didn't have the same kind of pride that he did when it came to being one of the herd, one of the undead. I didn't care about surviving a battle only to die in the next. I wanted to live. I sprinted into the trees to find Curtis tearing into a soldier with his bare hands. I pounced. He turned in time to see me in the air and raised his arms to catch me. Curtis probably feasted on more muscle in his time as one of the undead than I had, but I definitely ate more of the brains. I raised the two halves of the femur and pierced them through his palms, driving his arms away from his body and pinning them to the ground. I pulled another sharpened bone from my belt and stabbed him through the eye and up into his brain. I just shook my head. Always doing things with his bare hands, I thought, when even monkeys are known to use tools.

I stood up and raised my empty hands. Slowly I turned, smiling, which was probably a bad idea considering the rotting flesh and the blood, both wet and dry, staining myself and my tattered clothing. Not to mention the smell coming off of me.

"Sir, should we shoot it?" said one of the soldiers.

"I don't know," another responded, "I'm not even sure what it is."

"I wouldn't," I said, adding my own voice to the discussion. "My name is Frank and I'm sure you've got superiors that would be very interested to talk to someone like me."

It's been a really, really long time since I've written published anything here. I did fall off for awhile, but I haven't fully stopped writing as evidenced by the dozens or so draft posts and half finished stories littering my notebooks. Recently a couple of my friends starting putting up creative things they've been working on, so that inspired me to quit procrastinating and start working with this thing again. I'll probably do another rambling useless post later about what it's like to start writing again after a such a long time. For this story, I got the prompt from Reddit, "Zombies are real, but they aren't what people usually think..." (I don't feel like typing it all out). Zombie stories... I feel like I'm supposed to say something about zombie stories. There's so many, and so many types. I was just reading Monster Hunter International (reminding me, I should really do those reading list posts again) and they covered a whole bunch of undead-type monsters. I tried to clean it up a bit from what I originally posted on Reddit. I still couldn't really figure out an ending I'm happy with, besides those guys shooting him dead. There's been a bunch of these horror-type prompts recently, so hopefully in the theme of Halloween I can write a couple more of them.