Pretty
by Robert Williams

The killer waited in the mist-strewn clearing.

Takaishi stood with his eyes closed and his head slightly bowed, a young Japanese man with long black hair. He had prepared himself for slaughter. His katana hung by his left side, a rolled up whip at his right. He wore a dagger in a sheath low on his right leg. He’d tied back his hair with a thin strip of leather, yet his bangs curved around his face and eyes in locks like sickles. His arms hung at his sides, slightly bent at the elbows. Ready.

Waiting.

The bog yawned around him, gloomy in the early morning light. Moss dripped from the branches of the trees crowding in on the clearing. The moss hung suspended over its own reflection in the little pool like something captivated by itself, and within that reflection small fish darted and flipped in their little schools. Mist swirled over the ragged mud and twined between Takaishi’s legs like tentacles. To his left sat a pile of boulders, grey and solemn, ensnarled in the monstrous roots of the trees. Ahead of him the path that led him to this clearing loomed, lost in shadow, a dark tunnel through the dense forest.

Eyes closed, he listened.

The bog was silent, dead. No birds sang, no crickets chirped, no frogs belched out their rude mating calls. Takaishi heard the rush of his blood in his ears and the occasional splash of one of the fish in the pool. Nothing more.

He whispered. "I know you’re there."

A squelching sound, like a foot stepping into mud, in the trees behind the pile of boulders.

The muscles in his arms wanted to tense, but he did not allow it. He opened his eyes, which were startlingly green. Someone had once told him green eyes were enchanted. He did not remember who it was or what the nature of the enchantment might be.

The bushes to his right rustled, yet there was no breeze.

"Come to me," he said. "I have disturbed your hiding place, broken through your vain meditation."

A twig snapped in the path ahead of him.

"I’m waiting." Low and soft. He grinned horribly.

He wanted to draw his sword, but his discipline told him not to. Not until the enemy was in sight. He stretched out his senses, feeling with his mind for some smell, some disturbance of the air, some sound. The bushes to his right rustled again, but no-

He ducked forward and rolled over his shoulder as something huge and foul and sharp struck out of the brush behind him and split the air where his head had been. Muddy water soaked through his shirt, stuck to his skin, his hair. He swept up to his feet, his sword sang through the air with a flash of blue-white light as he unsheathed it, and spun to face his attacker.

The trees shattered to splinters as the creature crashed into the clearing. Takaishi saw it. His mind in its murderous coldness searched for spots of vulnerability, and saw none.

The creature’s upper half had all the attributes of a woman, a monstrously deformed hag, yet it was the height of two men, its skin grey, corpselike and slack. Loose skin hung from its long arms and swung back and forth as the creature shook its spade-shaped claws like a palsied old crone. Ragged black hair fell in tangled locks around its enormous head. Its face looked somewhat human although the jaws jutted forward like a snout. Its slanted black eyes locked on him with furious malevolence. Its thick ruddy lips parted, showing teeth like a beast and the creature roared at him, the wind of its rank, foul breath stinging his eyes and skin. Its withered pendulous breasts hung with their dried-grape nipples pointing at the ground.

Its lower half looked like the hindquarters of a wolf, covered in fur and the joints all angled like a canine’s. A ragged tail, with loose rolls of skin bulging through the patches of fur, trailed out behind it. Yet the proportions were huge, the muddy fur ragged and a great stench emanated from the being’s every pore. Its chipped claws tore into the mud as the creature paced back and forth, enraged at the invasion of its territory.

Around the creature’s neck, Takaishi saw a glint of gold, a flash of pink. A medal, or so it seemed, two gold snakes with pink jewels for eyes; the snakes intertwined into the symbol of infinity. The amulet. The emperor Nogemashu had sent him to retrieve it for his wife. He would pay Takaishi handsomely for it, he said. And so he would retrieve it.

The creature seemed to calm for a moment, to regard him for the first time in its fury. Its monstrous head cocked to the side, almost in curiosity.

"Pretty?" croaked the creature, its voice a hideous mockery of human speech. Like some ancient crone with her throat cut open, speaking through a mouthful of her own bubbling blood.

Takaishi wanted to be taken aback, shocked that a creature such as this could speak, but like his earlier anticipation he did not allow it. The creature possessed some kind of rudimentary power of speech, it followed that it had some rudimentary power of reason. Perhaps even something like intelligence. That made it more dangerous, harder to kill.

But perhaps it could be manipulated.

"No, you’re not," he replied. "Not in the slightest."

The creature cocked its head to the side. The curious expression on its face persisted. Streams of saliva oozed from the corner of its mouth in thick foamy streams. Its eyes, red-limned black holes sunk into its skull, regarded him blankly.

No, Takaishi thought. It has no reason. Its speech must be like that of a parrot, learned mimicry.

The creature and the assassin faced each other across the little pond. Takaishi stood ready, his right foot placed just ahead of his left, his sword held out before him. The creature lurched forward, hunched over with its claws dangling in front of it, its eyes staring forward. For a moment they stood and stared at each other.

And then the beast hurled itself across the clearing, charged like a bull through the shallow pool and through the muddy bog. In a single movement, Takaishi feinted to the right, crouched, and then swung his sword upwards in an arc. His blade sliced through thick hide, through matted hair. But rather than flinching back from the cut, the beast kicked its leg out and to the side, striking him a muddy, stinking hammerblow in the chest.

His feet left the ground; he flew back ten feet. He landed on his back into the soft wet mud that squelched and oozed moisture up his back and sides. He let the force of his own momentum carry him back and over and Takaishi rolled up out of the fall.

He held his sword at position in his right hand, the blade angled downwards in front of him, and his left hand behind him for balance. The kick had knocked the breath out of him. His chest hitched, lungs burning inside him, crying out for air that would not come. He would not allow himself to fall over. His muscles quivered and clenched no matter how hard he tried to relax them and his entire body shook. His lips rolled back, revealing his teeth, which gnashed open and closed as he tried to force himself to breathe.

No time. The beast pivoted around and charged him again, roaring through its fangs, sending a spray of saliva out in front of it. Its claws raked at the air and tore at the mud.

He feinted again, but instead of running him over the beast rammed its claws into the mud of the bog, then jerked upwards, ripping up the sod and peat moss like a carpet, sending Takaishi falling back again.

He rolled back up with catlike grace, yet the beast charged again. It was so close, he had no time to strike, only to dive away.

In an instant his eyes scanned to the right. He saw a way out.

A hole through the boulders, he thought at the same instant, and dove.

His left shoulder struck one of the rocks as he dove into the little crevice in the middle of the pile of boulders. One of the beast’s claws followed him in and raked across his legs, tearing through the skin, grinding mud and the beast’s own foulness into the wound. He cried out, more an exclamation of his rage than his pain, his rage at the need to take cover under a pile of rocks, like a snake or an insect! He would see this monster’s guts roll before this fight was over.

He pushed himself further into the little cave, smelling wet and rot, feeling snakes slither away from under his touch. Tree roots dangled all around him. Mud caked his skin and clothes. Finally he backed up against the rock at the very furthest end of the little crevice. Nowhere left to go. The beast’s claw grasped through the opening and tore at he mud and rocks. Takaishi had to bend his knees up to his chest, but the beast could not reach him.

The beast withdrew its claw and looked in at him, its face a paragon of rage and hate. It roared, sending a blast of its stinking breath in at Takaishi, the sound of its fury echoing off the rocks, beating at his eardrums.

Suddenly the beast was gone. Its face left the opening and Takaishi saw the bog and the trees across the pond through the crevice in the rocks. He heard the beast’s footsteps stomping through the mud, and the sound of it growling and snorting.

And then an impact thundered through the rocks. They shuddered all around him, threatening to collapse. Dust and pebbles clattered down on him. Another strike, the rocks shook and shifted against each other. The beast was pounding on the boulders outside! It would grind him up between them like a grain of wheat in a mill!

Another strike. Takaishi heard rocks crashing against each other. One of the boulders above him shook loose, slid down over him and he had to stretch out his legs and lay down flat in the crevice to escape it. The boulder pounded into the rock behind him. He looked up and saw a spiderweb of cracks in the rock against which his head had rested moments before.

Mud and sweat streamed down his skin and into his eyes. The crevice had suddenly become narrower, he could barely move in it now. He clutched his sword with the blade pointing away from him and down the length of the crevice. He didn’t have room to move it.

Outside the beast hammered at the rocks and roared in a tantrum of fury. Light rushed in on him in a sudden flood as one of the rocks above Takaishi was lifted away, and then he felt the beast’s claws stab in at him. He cried out, struck in that direction with his sword, but he could not turn himself fast enough the catch it. Soon he managed to turn over and look up. He saw the beast growling and drooling above him through a gap in the boulders, raking at the gap with its claws, trying to widen it, to get in at him. It became frustrated by its efforts; it pressed its face against the gap and roared. Saliva fell down on him in a rain. Takaishi thrust his sword through the gap and felt it tear into the creature’s flesh.

The beast squealed… and vanished.

Moments passed, and the only thing that appeared in the wedge of sky through the rocks above him were the clouds marching by overhead. Takaishi waited, thinking this had to be some deceit on the part of the beast. He surely had not done more than scratch it. Yet he heard the beast’s footsteps pounding away; he heard its miserable whimpers. What is this trickery?

Takaishi wriggled out of the crevice, careful and uneasy, waiting for the beast to reappear at any moment. When he was out, he hauled himself to his feet, raked his hair out of his eyes and looked around.

The beast was hunkered down on its haunches over by the pool, gazing downwards at its own reflection. It seemed to have forgotten Takaishi was there at all. He looked down at the pool, and the image it contained welded his feet to the muddy ground below.

The beast looked down into the reflection of a beautiful maiden. An expression of perfect ease glowed over her lovely face. Her long black hair, as sleek and flowing as an ebon waterfall, was swept back from her shoulders, moved by some wind Takaishi did not feel. She was naked, her breasts large and firm, her stomach smooth and flat, her body nothing less than breathtaking.

But, Takaishi saw in his cold killer’s mind that looked past such slight things as physical beauty, she was not completely naked.

Around her neck, she wore the amulet.

So that was why the Emperor’s wife coveted it. She had heard tales of a magic amulet guarded by a fierce beast in the northern bogs of Hokkaido, an amulet that granted eternal youth and beauty to whomever wore it. But, Takaishi now realized, the tales were not accurate in what they spoke of the amulet’s power. It did not give youth and beauty, only the reflection of youth and beauty to its wearer.

And so this beast stared down at an image it did not possess, thinking it had an appearance that it did not. Its claws moved over the ragged bleeding cut Takaishi had made on the corpse-grey hide of its cheek. The beautiful false reflection moved its hands over its own face, yet its cheek was flawless.

The beast murmured to itself, Takaishi could not hear what it said. It looked up at him, and grinned grotesquely.

"Pretty!" it croaked at him, smiling idiotically. "Pretty!"

Won’t the Empress be disappointed, Takaishi thought, looking up at the creature’s moronic, grinning face. Ah, but mine is only to deliver the item and collect my fee, mine is not to argue over the finer points of things.

He saw the path his actions must take, step by step planned out in his mind. He took the whip from his belt. Its snap crackled out in a wave through the misty air.

The beast lost its smile. Its face became furious as it remembered who had inflicted the mark upon its face that had caused it so much distress. It rose up, growling, head bent, staring up at Takaishi from under its bushy eyebrows, its eyes a black and red history of comfort in delusion, in lies. Its arms hung at its sides as its claws twitched, and the cage of its ribs swelled and expanded beneath its skin with the motion of its breath. The muscles in its bent, wolfish legs rippled as it gathered them together, preparing to pounce.

Takaishi lashed out the whip, rolling it upward with his wrist, moving his entire body forward to add its momentum to the whip’s strike. His aim sent the whip uncoiling straight to the golden amulet glittering at the beast’s throat. His lips pulled back from his teeth, sweat flew out in droplets from his brow and his hair, and a guttural cry tore at his throat as he put all his strength into the whip.

The whip flashed across the air, its frayed end grasping for the amulet.

The beast hissed, lifted its hand, and caught the whip in midair. The end of it wrapped around its fist.

Takaishi felt the tension build in the whip as the beast began to pull. He knew what he would have to do. He wrapped the end of the whip around his wrist and prepared himself.

The beast jerked him forward, growling and baring its fangs. The force of its pull jerked Takaishi into the air, tumbling across space towards the gaping maw of its jaws, its teeth.

Takaishi tucked in his elbows, rolled and flipped in the air, and reversed himself. Now he flew feet forward, and landed on the beast’s shoulders.

Instantly the beast was upon him, grabbing at him, he felt its claws digging into his back. He felt the heat of its breath rising up foul all around him. He clutched at the slimy mass of its hair, like clutching a handful of worms. Below him the beast snapped at his legs, at his groin. Its claws tore at his back.

He turned the katana sword in his hand such that the blade pointed behind him, thrust it down past his side, and then swept it outwards in an arc, severing the fingers of the beast’s left hand. It screamed, it did not roar, it screamed like a woman and the sound gave him a hot evil pleasure to hear it. In an instant he dipped down, grabbed the amulet and jerked it upwards. The clasp snapped against the back of the beast’s neck.

I have it! he thought triumphantly. It’s mine!

He jumped off the beast’s shoulders, over its head, back and tail such that he was behind it, and landed in the soft wet mud. His feet sank in up to the ankles, the mud gripping him like greedy hands. For the moment he could not run. The beast spun around, blood spouting from the stumps of its severed fingers. On its face was the fullest expression of rage, pain, and hate that Takaishi had ever seen. It threw itself at him, teeth bared, its remaining claws grasping for him.

Takaishi held up his sword broadside. The blade flashed in the morning light. And as the beast fell upon him, he thrust it into its face. And there within that shiny wedge of metal, the beast saw its reflection. Its true reflection.

It screamed; it issued forth a howl from out of the depths of pain and denial that human beings cannot even conceive. The scream seemed to shake the Earth, to knock the leaves from the trees, to shatter the very air. It reared back and clamped its claws to its face, the blood from the severed fingers of its left hand spouting over its brow and eyes like a baptism.

Takaishi pivoted his wrist, swept his sword around and sliced it across the beast’s exposed belly. He made good on his vow. The beast’s intestines spilled out of the cut and uncoiled, steaming in the morning air. Its screams died to a whimper, and then to silence. It tottered, fell, smashed into the mud at Takaishi’s feet, spraying him with gore and mud.

He looked down on it. Who is the greater monster now?

He pulled his feet free of the mud, and turned to walk away.

The beast grabbed his leg, its claws stabbing into his flesh. He stumbled forward, his sword flew from his hand, out beyond his reach. The beast jerked him back, growling with rage. It stared at him through the mask of blood on its face. Its intestines lay beside it in a pile.

"Pretty!" it screeched. "Pretty! Pretty!"

Takaishi felt himself pulled back, closer to the creature’s snapping teeth. He clawed at the mud, his fingers dug furrows through it. The chain of the amulet trailed out from his fingers and into those furrows. His sword was gone, the whip was gone. Only one weapon left.

He took the dagger from its sheath, turned back, and thrust it into the beast’s eye.

Purple fluid gushed out, Takaishi felt its warm wetness engulf his hand, and the creature screamed. He pushed harder, driving the blade deeper into the socket. He roared as the beast roared, driving his hand in up to the wrist, the forearm, the elbow. The creature flapped its one good hand at him ineffectually as its body shuddered and twitched.

Takaishi thrust himself forward, straddling the creature’s head, driving his arm down like a piston. His arm squelched through the gore as if he were driving it into the mud. Down, past his elbow, his bicep, up to the shoulder. Finally, he felt something rupture deep inside the beast’s head, and it went still.

"Prettieeee…" it moaned, and then was silent.

Takaishi remained still for a moment, crouched over the head, breathing through his teeth, saliva and blood dripping from his jaws. Finally he pulled out his arm. The socket made a horrible suction noise as he withdrew. He walked over to his sword lying in the mud. He picked it up, regarded it for a moment, unthinking. Then he walked back to the beast, raised the sword high above him, and brought it swiftly down. The head rolled away from the body and stared at him with its remaining eye. Hate still glimmered in its red and black pupil.

Takaishi looked down at his hands covered in blood and gobbets of flesh. He was still clutching the amulet. The creature’s blood flowed over the golden surface and made it ruddy.

He stared forward, his mind blank. After a time he walked over to the pool, where fish were now floating belly up to the surface, poisoned by the beast’s blood. He looked down at himself, covered in that same blood, torn through with gashes from the beast’s claws, mud ground into the wounds. He would have to sterilize himself tonight, wash his wounds with spirits and purify them with fire, lest the beast’s foulness kill him-

His thoughts cut off as he looked past his hand still clutching the amulet, down to the surface of the water. He saw his reflection there, its color strangely unaffected by the blood in the water. This Takaishi staring up at him was not torn through with wounds, was not covered in blood and filth. This Takaishi was naked and radiant, his skin unscarred, his face free of care. He looked so young, so fresh…

…so pretty.

He roared and threw the amulet away, but not into the pool, behind him into the mud. It lay there and glittered, the light flashing on it almost like the wink of an eye.

It almost had me!

Indeed, looking down at his ragged and disgusting true reflection, Takaishi felt a strange and overpowering urge to pick up the amulet again, just to see what it made him look like one more time. Just to sit there and ponder his reflection for a bit.

He roared again, ran back behind the pile of boulders where he had hidden his traveling pack. He ran to the amulet, snatched it up and threw it into the pack before he could change his mind.

With it out of sight, he felt a little better, a little less compelled. He kept his mind focused on his fee, on his money. Perhaps he could even sell the head of the monster. On the streets of Tokyo it may fetch a fair price as a novelty.

The creature. A horrid thought occurred to him. What if that beast had once been human? What if once it really had been that beautiful maiden he had seen in the pool? What if the amulet had somehow changed her, all the while making her think she was young and beautiful, all the while transforming her into a monster?

When I took it from the creature’s neck, I had thought, "It’s mine!"

Enough of this! He forced his feet to move, and he marched purposefully to the dark tunnel of the path through the forest. Leave the head of the beast! It was too big to carry all the way back to Tokyo, not worth the money he could get for it. The amulet though, the Emperor had promised him five hundred pieces of gold for it, but after this fight he would demand seven hundred…

The amulet sits in my pack, waiting for me to grasp it. My reflection waits for me back at the pool…

He stopped. Forced himself to move again. He would not be compelled by an object of vanity! Let the Empress take her chances with the amulet, let it transform her into what it will! He would deliver it to her and collect his fee.

Wouldn’t he?

©2002 Robert Williams

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