Chapter 1: Slayer Fūjin pilot volume

 

Slayer Fūjin

Part 1, Pilot Volume-Enter: Luis Tramontana

~by Rake

Luis Tramontana, your ordinary teenage boy, just wants to live a normal life.  But Luis’ plans are interrupted when a demon attacks his family, and Luis is roped into becoming a professional demon slayer in order to protect the ones he loves.

Part 1, pilot volume-Enter: Luis Tramontana

*Ring ring*

“Huh?”

*Ring ring*

“Wh-what?”

*Ring ring*

“Who am I?”

My eyes swiftly dart open, just to be met with my bedroom ceiling above me.

“Aw crap” I say with a sigh. “Nope, still me.”  I roll over and slam my fist down onto my pesky alarm, effectively turning it off.

“Ugh, I hate this “having to practice waking up early as Hell for the start of school” crap,” I groan as I roll out of my bed and scratch out, my back letting out an unsettling *crack.*  As I do so, the cat that was sleeping beside me -Mr. Kittles, a pure black cat with piercing light blue eyes- jumps up and does the same.

Hey there.  Nice to meet you…I guess.  My name is Luis and welcome to the start of my story.  My boring, average, completely normal story.  I’m not some super cool manga protagonist, or something.  I’m just me.  Nothing of interest is going to happen in this story.  Nope, nothing at all.  Nada.  Zilch.

I’m not really sure how to start off this story.  I guess I’m supposed to introduce myself now, like in every good anime?  And well, you have nothing more in front of you than mere words on a page, or letters on a screen, so it would be pretty rude of me to force you to have to imagine what I look like for however long this story winds up being.  So I’ll spare you the trouble.  But, if you want to skip this next paragraph and simply imagine me as some tall, handsome, ripped hunk, I won’t stop you now.  Go ahead.  Go.  Skip it.  Please.

Alright so I’m 5’5 which means I’m pretty short, I know.  Go ahead, you can make fun of me, I won’t mind.  I’m used to it.  Other than height, what do we have next, let’s see…I weigh…a pretty average amount for a 5’5 fourteen year old dude, I’m not really fat or anything but I’m not super skinny.  I have short, black hair and blue eyes like Mr. Kittles over there, and I’m pretty pasty.  I wouldn’t say I’m a full on ghost, but you can tell I dont go outside much.  I’m a gamer, we do no such thing.

“Cat-Eyed.”  That’s what people always called me.  A Cat-Eyed Freak.

I live with my mom and younger sister Gabby, and Mr. Kittles, of course.  My mom is a beautiful woman who looks a little too young to have a kid my age, which sure didn’t help make me popular in school.  My mom’s eyes always look weary, it’s rough when you have to support two kids and a cat all on your own.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen her angry before in my life.

As for Gabby, she’s kinda’ an asshole, but well, what else would I expect from a younger sister.  The main problem is that despite being two years younger than me, she’s waaaay more popular and athletic than I am.  It sucks.

As for Mr. Kittles, he’s a rare breed.  Not rare in a sense that he’s some fancy, rare purebred beast, rare in the sense that this cat loves the Hell out of me!  You see, cats are typically tsundere like creatures, acting like they hate you and everyone and wish to never be touched, and they hope that you leave.  But what they really want is to be loved!  He’s always hanging out in my room with me.  And when I need to leave the house, you can bet that cat is tailing behind me or even riding on my shoulder!  Maybe that’s why I get a lot of weird looks from people...apparently having a fluffy kitty companion is deemed more of a feminine type of thing, and not nearly as tough nor as masculine as having a dog buddy.  Dogs are too annoyingly happy-go-lucky for my taste.  I refuse to let Gabby and my mom get one, no matter how hard they beg.

Now for my dad…

That’s all!

I guess you could say I’m a bit of a cynic.  I’m an asshole, tried and true, that’s just who I am.  It all stems from one instance in elementary school recess.  Long story short, when I tried playing games with the other boys, I couldn’t toss the ball back.  I couldn’t even catch it.  I think you understand why.  From that point on I was laughed at and teased.  One would think that once I’ve reached middle school that the teasing would stop, but no, it kept going!  I haven’t made any friends since.  Well…I did make one, but he’s gone now.  That’s why I prefer keeping to myself.  It’s easier that way.

Oh well, that’s it for my introduction.

I start my day off the usual way.  Woke up, washed up, got dressed, the usual.  Oh, and if you’re so inclined as to be wondering what I’m wearing, I usually just wear the same black and blue hoodie and blue jeans.  And my white and blue high top sneakers.  Yeah, I wear a lot of blue, I know, it’s kinda’ my thing.  Really brings out my eyes.

But when I flopped down on my couch that morning in the summer of 2016, I was expecting it to just be another average, boring day.  Looking back at it, it’s almost comical, seeing just how naive I was.  How naive I was to the ways of this world.  How naive I was to myself.

Oh yeah, remember how I said that this was my boring, average, normal story?  Maybe my story was all that for the first fourteen years of my life.  But on August 29th, 2016, my true story began.

The story of how I accidentally became the savior of the world.

How I became “Slayer Fūjin.”

 

***

 

“LUISSS!!!”  My mom screams to me from upstairs, a couple of hours into my gaming session.

“What, ma?!”  I yell back.  No answer.  “WHAT?!”  I yell back again, louder this time.  Still no response.  “Oh, for the love of-” I grumble to myself as I roll off the couch.  “What is i-” I can barely get a sentence in before my mom interrupts me.

“I NEED YOU TO RUN TO THE STORE FOR ME!”  She yells down.

“For what?”  I call back.  No answer.

“For-”

“SOMETHING FOR DINNER!”

“LIKE WHAT?!”  No answer.  “Oh screw it, I’ll just get whatever the Hell I want,” I grumble to myself as I shuffle out of the house, Mr. Kittles hot on my heels.

“Ah…it sure is bright…” I mutter under my breath as I turn up to the blazing summer sky, shielding my eyes from the golden sun that I’m not all too used to due to me staying inside as much as I can.

I refuse to go outside all too often because I really would rather avoid getting eaten by a demon.  I mean, demon attacks are usually pretty rare these days compared to years ago, although this year is said to be the highest in terms of demon activity since millions of years ago.  Finally, our tax money being sent to these Pro Slayers is finally going to good use.  Though I’d much rather I get eaten over Gabby or my mom.  Unfortunately, if I get eaten then Mr. Kittles would as well.  Do demons like the taste of cats?  I know they eat humans, but do they eat animals?  I guess they do.  They like fresh meat and blood, afterall.  So I’ve heard from those Pro-Slayer-lecture-seminars in school.

It’s oddly empty outside for such a sunny day, not a cloud in the sky.  “Eh, whatever.  Makes my job a whole lot easier.”

I cautiously creep up the block, careful not to alert any of the demons that certainly aren’t around (I am seriously going to kill my past self!!!!!).

My trek up the block towards the grocery store with Mr. Kittles is going pretty smoothly, that is, until a giant ass tremble coming from the ground causes me to lose balance and fall flat on my ass.  Mr. Kittles leaps from off of my shoulder, landing safely on the ground, as graceful as, well…a cat.

“Ow!”  I yelp.  “Jesus, what the Hell was that, an earthquake?!  In New york?!”

Following that…targeted earthquake, or whatever, I then hear a scream come from around the corner up ahead.  A terrified, absolutely blood curdling scream.  A scream that had more passion in its voice than that one annoying-ass theature girl in the school plays.  Following the scream, is a second scream.  A scream that sounded…much more demonic and less human than the first.  If the first scream was a scream of terror…then this scream is a the feral cry of a predator catching it’s prey.

I can hear yet another scream come from up ahead, a scream that sounds like the first, this time, another human scream, followed by a large crashing sound that sounded like a fricken’ car being frisbeed into the side of a building.  The sound of shattering glass and a car alarm really gave it away.  I hear one final scream, and then…I hear one more sound.  The sound of two racks of mighty fangs clashing against one another in the form of a mighty chomp.

“Hah hah…what could that be?”  I sarcastically ask myself with a dopey smile on my face.  My voice is trembling, my entire body is drenched in sweat.  I ignore both of those as I push myself off of the ground and dust off my jeans.

“Huh?  Mr. Kittles, where did you go?”  I ask, my voice still trembling as I look from side to side for my cat.  After a brief moment, I spotted Mr. Kittles -the cat who never leaves my side- dozens of feet down the block, back the way we came.  Mr Kittles is staring straight at me, hissing, each and every last blade of fur on his fluffy body raised in pure terror and anxious self defense.

“Mr. Kittles, you silly cat!”  I say with my ever-shaking voice, managing to stifle out a laugh as I tremble back down the block towards Mr. Kittles.  As I do so, the ground beneath me begins to shake yet again.  Like the mighty footsteps of a giant stomping the ground behind me.  “You’re going the wrong way, we want to go to the supermarket!”  I don’t think I could be any more sweatier.  I’m shaking like an arthritis patient who was giving gallons of coffee after holding a plank for two straight minutes.  I ignore both those things.  The shaking ground grows shakier.  The footsteps grow louder.

“Come on, let’s keep walking!”  As I kneel down in front of Mr. Kittles (who is still poised with his fur raised, hissing at whatever is behind me), I feel one final, mighty footstep fall to the ground behind me.  My eyes widen and my hand sinks to the ground as I feel a presence behind me.  A supernatural, inhuman, demonic presence.  The presence of a killer.  Right now…I know how it feels being a rabbit when a hungry lion is stalking its prey.  Or a field mouse under the swooping talons of a hawk.

“MRRROWWWRRRR!!!!!”  Mr. Kittles hisses.  I’ve never seen the cat so worked up in my life.

“Oh..hah hah.  So that’s how it is?”  A small, sad smile spreads across my lips as I wipe my sweaty bro with my sweaty arm, just serving to make everything stickier and even more uncomfortable.  Slowly, I stand up.  Although standing up is a strong word.  My legs are shaking so bad that it’s more like I wiggled upwards more so than anything.  My entire body was screaming at me to just sit back down.  To just curl up into a ball and die.

I’ve never seen a demon before.  I mentioned that before, didn’t I?  When I would picture what I thought a demon would look like, I always imagined a stereotypical Satan figure.  Four arms, red skin, goat legs, hooves, ram horns, claws, four eyes.  So when I turned around and was faced with a giant, scaly, black creature, dozens of feet tall, with horns, claws, eyes, legs, and limbs sticking out each and every which direction, like a sleep paralysis demon boned a biblical accurate angel, it was safe to say that this demon wasn’t quite what I had in mind.

The demon peaks its head from around the corner of the house in front of me.  The demon blinks, and when it opens its eyes, I feel hundreds of ‘em staring at me.  This demon had glowing red eyes where eyes shouldn’t be.  And for some reason, they were leaking a green puss.

It is the grossest damn thing that I’ve ever seen

“Whaaaa..whaaa…?!”  I stammer as I slowly shuffle backwards, before falling on my butt again.  I hear another bloodcurdling scream, and then another, and it takes me a second to realize that the screams are coming from me.

The demon fully emerges from behind the house in front of me, giving me the full view of its ginormous and grotesque figure.  Slits begin appearing on the demon’s flesh, which then open up into hundreds of mouths with rows and rows of fangs and floppy purple tongues.

And then, the demon screams.  A horrifying, terrorous scream.  A scream that matched the one I heard earlier, followed by the chomping sound.

Oh.  It’s going to eat me.

Without another warning, the demon charges me.  In response, Mr. Kittles leaps out from behind me and hisses at the demon, putting some ground between the demon and I.

“No, Mr. Kittles, don’t!  Don’t be a hero!”  I cry.  “Run, save yourself!”  Mr. Kittles turns and looks over his shoulder at me, giving me a small mrowr.

The demon keeps charging, and when it’s close enough, reaches out to grab me, me who is too damn pathetic and scared to move my feet.  No, that’s not it.  The demon isn’t reaching towards me.  Remember earlier when I said that if I were to get eaten by a demon, that Mr. Kittles would too, since he’s always with me?  And that I wondered if demons even ate cats or not?

Well the damn thing was reaching for my fucking cat.

Alright, that’s it.

“You can eat me for all I care, I don’t give a damn!”  I shout as I slowly push myself off the ground.  Still trembling, yet I manage to stand.  “But don’t you dare…” I begin to growl as I tilt my head up, locking eyes with one of the multiple eyes of the demons, staring deeply into it.  “KILL MY DAMN CAT IN FRONT OF ME!”

The demon roars, and reaches its hand out towards Mr. Kittles, who hisses in response.  I roar back, before reaching out and scooping up Mr. Kittles.  And then, just before the two of us were skewered by the demon’s claws, I roll to the side, dodging the demon’s attack.  The demon looks stunned for a brief moment, if unintelligible monsters such as that could look confused, before letting out another scream, and launching its claws towards me and Mr. Kittles again.  Again, I duck down and roll out of the way of the demon’s attack again.  I don’t know how I’m doing this.  Adrenaline, I guess.

Frustrated, the demon slams one of its many clawed hands against the wall of the house beside it, sending chunks of concrete and wood splintering every which direction.  For a brief moment, my head is filled with pain, causing me to stammar backwards and lose my balance.  I then feel an odd warm stickiness running down the side of my scalp.  I touch my non-Mr. Kittles-holding-hand to the side of my head, and when I hold my hand up to my face, I see that it’s covered in my crimson red blood.  

“Oh.  That’s new.”

I then feel another wave of disness, causing my eyes to flicker downwards, where they lock onto a hunk of concrete that looks to be painted red.

“Wait, but that house wasn’t re- oh.”

I was bashed in the skull by one of those concrete chunks.

Maybe my sudden realization is what caused this, but out of the blue, I feel too weak to stand, and have no choice but to crumble to my knees.

Sensing my weakness, the demon lets out a final roar and charges me again, once and for all.  Mr. Kittles hisses at the demon before turning back to face me, nuzzling my hand before letting out a yelp of distress.

“I’m sorry…buddy…” I groan as I weakly reach a bloody hand out, stroking Mr. Kittles’ fur, leaving it dyed red in the process.  “This is as far as I go.”

“What the Hell…is that?”  I weakly ask myself as my eyes slowly flicker shut.  Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me, or maybe I see God or an Angel, or whatever…but before I lose consciousness for good, a streak of black and yellow flies towards the demon, coupled with the buzz of electricity ringing through the air, causing the hair on my head and arms to stand up.

The last thing I hear before my mind goes blank is a man yell out: “BUMBLE BEE STING!”

 

***

 

Slap slap.  “Hey, kid, wake up, hey, hey.”  Slap slap slap.

“Oh…just five more minutes…” I groan as I roll ever on bed.  But when I remember where I am, my eyes instantly flicker open.

“WHERE’S THE DEMON?!  AM I DEAD?!”  I cry as I shoot straight up, hearing a yelp as I do so.

I take a quick peak around, before my eyes focus on a man stumbelign away from me, holding his forehead in pain.  I guess he was slapping me awake and I accidentally headbutted him when I did so.

“Oh, thank God, you’re not dead.”  The man breathes a sigh of relief as he clutches his heart.

The man is a tall ass dude, maybe 6’2, 6’3, looking in his early thirties, with tank skin and slicked back black hair, that has pale yellow streaks going through it.  The man sports a standard black suit and white undershirt, shy from the abnormal looking pale yellow tie with a black lighting bolt going down it, and a matching belt that’s too long to be properly tied around his waist, with a couple of feet of extra belt flapping behind me in the breeze.

“Hey, uh, sorry about” that the man says as he rubs the back of his neck.  “I hope that wasn’t your house.”  The man sheepishly jams his finger over his shoulder, and I look to where he’s pointing, seeing the house that the demon emerged behind absolutely decimated.  In the ruins of the house, is the mangled corpse of that very same demon.  Except now, in the center of the demon’s chest is a giant crater that’s leaking a blue substance that I assume to be its blood.  Did…this man do that?

“What the Hell man!”  I said.  “Don't go around destroying my neighborhood!”  I cry as I pop back up to my feet.  Use a weaker attack next time!”

The man peers back at me, absolutely flabbergasted.  “How about a thank you for saving your life!  I know, I know I didn’t need to use the strength of one of my signatures to take out such a low ranking demon but I needed speed, speed!  A few seconds later and you would have been a demon chow!”  The man explains, causing me to groan in response.

“Who the Hell are you, anyways?”  I snap.

“Ah, right!  Here we go…” the man mutters to himself as he reaches his hand into one side of his suit jacket, pulling out a brown leather wallet and flipping it open, removing a car from the front pockets and handing it to me.  “Here you go,” he says,

I snatch the plastic card out of the man’s hand and read it.  “Nicholas Boras, codename…Slayer Hachi?”  I read.  A Pro Slayer.  I’ve never met one before

“Yup!  That’s me!  The Bumblebee!”  The man proudly explains as he places his hands on his hips.

“The Bumblebee?”  Dorky nickname.

“Yup!  The Bumblebee.  But you can just call me Nick.”

“Well, I guess that explains the attack name, Nick,” I say, causing the man in front of me to sulk.

“I was expecting a “Slayer Hachi” or at the very least a “Mr Boras.”  At least a “Nicholas”.  Must kids these days can’t help but to cheer for their favorite hero, The Bumblebee when they see me…” Nick complains under his breath.

“Then why the Hell did you tell me to call you Nick?!”  I shout.

Nick turns back to face me and smiles.  “I don’t like formalities!  Leaves a bad taste in my mouth,” he answers, causing me to sigh again.

“Anyways, so what’s your name, kid?”  Nick asks me.

“Me?  Well I’m-” I begin to say, but my introduction is interrupted when I spot my mom frantically running up the block towards me.

“Luis, Luis honey!”  My mom calls too me.  My mom stops before me, placing her hands on my shoulders and gasping for breath.  “Are you hurt are you alright?!  I just got an alert on my citizens app that there was a demon in the neighborhood, I never should have sent you out there, I should have gone instead, I’m so so-oh my God!”  My mom’s ramblings are interrupted when she lays eyes on the giant corpse of the demon which flattened our neighbor’s house.

“Wha…wha…wha…” my mom stammars, her mouth ajar and her eyes wide as she frantically looks back and forth between me and the slain demon.

“I’m alright, mom, I only have a scratch, see!”  I answer as I hold my arm up, displaying the bloody scratch that I got from one of my multiple tumbles.

“The back of your head’s bleeding pretty badly too!”  Nick chimes in.

“Not helping!”  I mutter through clenched teeth to Nick, who unapologetically shrugs in response.

“And who are you?”  My mom asks Nick.

“Nicholas Boras, Slayer Hachi!”  Nick chipperly answers.  “But you can just call me Nick!”

“You know…when you said that to me it just sounded friendly, but to my mom it sounds more like a pick-up line,” I grumble.

“Luis, I told you that I don’t want you hanging around Pro Slayers!”  My mom snaps, causing me to recoil.

“Hanging around?!  He’s like fifty, mom!”  I reply, and this time, it’s Nick’s turn to recoil.

“I’m only thirty-two!”  He snaps.

“Either way,” my mom continues as she turns back to face Nick, glaring straight up into his eyes.  Nick gulps in response.  It’s funny, seeing such a tall-ass guy cowering under my short mom.

Without hesitation, my mom then drops to her knees and begins sobbing into her hands.  “Thank you, Mr. Boras, thank you,” she sobs, causing both Nick and I to flinch.  “Thank you so much for saving my son, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him!”

Up until now, if I had to describe this Nick guy in one word, it would be dorky.  But I can’t deny it, when he knelt down on one knee and placed a hand on my mom’s shoulder, causing my mom’s wet eyes to flicker up to Nick’s, as he gave her areasuring  thumbs up, I can’t help but to deny that Nick is a little cool at times.

“Don’t worry, ma’am, I get paid to do this!”  Nick replies, and every last coolness point he earned floods out of his body.  Nick then stands up and turns away from my mom, his eyes glossing over with a sad seriousness to them.  “I know what it’s like.  I make it a policy to save every child that I can,” he says.

My mom then turns back to me and begins examining me again, looking me up and down, checking out each part of me to make sure that I’m alright.

“Mom, I’m good, I promise,” I say, but as my mom turns my head to the side and lays eyes on the bloody gash on the back of my scalp, her face goes pale.  And I guess that was the final straw of stress for my mom, because without another word, my mom falls straight backwards, hitting her head on the ground and forming a gash similar to my own.

“Ah, mom!”  Frantically, I reach down and struggle to pick my mom up.  Nick strolls over to me and hosist my mom by the feet, and with me cradling my mom under her arms, the two of us pick her up.

“Where are we bringing her?”  Nick asks.

“Hospital.  There’s one right down the block, my mom works there,” I grunt.  Not saying that my mom is heavy or anything, I’m just not the strongest guy around.  Contrary to Nick, who looks to be having an easy time carrying my mom.

Our walk continues in silence for a brief moment, before Nick disrupts that silence.  “Hey, kid,” he says.

“Yeah?”  I ask.

“Your mother is a very nice lady.  Take care of her,” Nick answers, causing me to smile.

“Yeah,” I reply.  “I will!”

“She’s pretty, too, she single?”  Nick asks.

“HEY!”  I snap.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Nick continues.  “I sense a huge, latent well of Cursed Power inside of you.  You have potential.  Why haven’t you tried becoming a Pro Slayer yet?”

“Me?  Potential?  You’re joking, right?”  I ask.  Nick replies with a perfectly blank face, which makes it seem as if he’s not joking.  “There’s no way I have any gifted natural talent, I’m just some kid,” I continue.

“You normies aren’t able to sense Cursed Power, not even the power you have inside you.  But for someone like me who has been training for years, I can tell, you’re a strong one,” Nick replies.  “And besides, it’s because you’re a kid that you have so much potential, that’s why us Pro Slayers like to recruit them.  You’re much more malleable to change and more open to the supernatural and super powers compared to more cynical adults.  Plus, I saw how you saved your cat despite being afraid, and despite all the odds, you’re a hero!”

“But, but, but…” I stammar.  “I don’t want to be a Slayer!”  I whimper, causing Nick to recoil.  “And what the Hell is Cursed Power?!”

“You don’t?!”  He asks.  “Well…that’s a first.  I just assumed that when your mom said that she doesn’t want you hanging around Pro Slayers, she meant that-” Nick continues, but I cut him off.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.  I just don’t want to die, alright?”  I snap.

Nick pauses.

“What gives, I can’t carry her alone?”  I grumble.

“You don’t become a Pro Slayer to die.  You become a Pro Slayer so that you don’t,” Nick says, causing my eyes to widen.

“What…do you mean?”  I ask.

“What do you think would have happened if I didn’t show up?  You would have died.  Your cat would have died,” Nick explains, while motioning towards Mr. Kittles who is still following us down to the hospital.  “And what, do you think that after you and that mealsy cat, the demon would have been full?  No, it would have continued its rampage through your neighborhood, searching for the next fresh blood.  Your mom would have died too?  Your dad, got any siblings, any more pets?  They all would have died.”

Now, it’s my turn to pause.  Sensing my tightening body and the bloodlust in my eyes, Nick smirks.  “Now, have I gotten through to you?”  He asks.

“Teach me,” I growl.  “TEACH ME TO BECOME A PRO SLAYER!”

“September 10th, at 9:00 A.M, a little over a week from today!”  Nick booms.  “New York City, 23rd street, at the International Professional Slayer Organization Headquarters, an entrance exam will be held for the new and upcoming to test their metal and see if they have the chops to enter into our ranks.  If you can survive the exam, then you’re in, and I’ll teach you everything that you need to know about Cursed Power, the aura within Pro Slayers that gives us our strength.”

You are reading story Slayer Fūjin pilot volume at novel35.com

My chest tightens and my hands grow clammy.  I take a deep breath in…then out.  And when I’m finished, I peer up and stare Nick dead in the eyes.  “I accept your challenge, Nick!”  I boom back.

Without missing a beat and all while still carrying my mom, Nick slips a hand into his suit jacket and pulls out a business card, handing it to me.  “I’m not supposed to do much more than this.  All that I’m allowed to do is tell you to meet with the man whose name appears on this business card.  After you do so, he’ll give you the next steps from there,” Nick explains.  I take the business card out of his hand, and slip it into my hoodie pocket.

“I’ll be waiting for you at the exam site, Luis!”

 

***

 

My mom was alright, she only had a minor crack in her skull and a small concussion she just had to get a few stitches.  Well, I had too as well.  Nick and I carried her to the hospital, which brings us to where I am right now, standing outside of a dinky wooden shack on the outskirts of town, which has the name “Cursed Powers Today,” plastered on a sign outside in bold letters.

“The business card that Nick gave me said that I’ll meet this “Slayer Mezame,” Odin Shannon guy here guy,” I say.  I look back uop at the crummy shop and let out another sigh.  “I just hope this isn’t a scam.”  Without another word, I take a step forward and enter the shitty shop, with Mr. Kittles hot on my heels as always.

Ding!  A bell chimes overhead as I enter the shop.  “Hello?”  I ask.  No answer.    I pause and look around.  The shop looks about how I’d expect it to look based on the outside, it’s cramped with rotting wooden shelves stuffed with all sorts of trinkets and knick knacks, and smells of mold.  “There’s not a person in sight.  I guess I’ll just leave…” I sigh to myself as I turn around and slink out of the shop.

“Wait!”  A voice calls to me before I can exit the shop.  “A customer?  It’s been so long!”  I turn around and peer down, seeing that I’m faced with a fragile, ancient looking old man standing before me.

“And what are you here for, sonny?”  The old man asks me.  He has a crackly, broken voice that makes him sound as old as he looks.

“Uhhh…my name is Luis, Nicholas Boras, Slayer Hachi, told me to come here, he said that this was the first step into becoming a Pro Slayer,” I answer.

“Ah, well then you would be looking for me!”  The old man booms.  “Slayer Mezame, at your service!  Awakening the latent Cursed Power in you youths is my specialty!”

A cheesy grin spreads across my face.  “Great!  So where do we start?!”  I ask.

Slayer Mezame pauses.  “Uhh…hello?”  I ask.

“So what are you here for, sonny?”  Mezame asks me, causing me to groan.

“Ohhh…Nick hooked me up with a kook!”  I whine.

“Ah, that’s right!  Louwie, here to awaken your Cursed Power as per Slayer Kaminari’s request!”  Mezame booms.

“Er…close enough,” I answer.

 

***

 

Slayer Mezame leads me (and Mr. Kittles) out of his shop and to a nearby forest on the outskirts of town.  After walking for what feels like hours, I finally gather up the courage to ask “where the hell are we going, isn’t this far enough?”  Interrupting our walk which was in complete and utter silence prior to my question.

“Patience is a virtue,” Mezame answers, and the two of us keep walking.

Eventually, we make it to a clearing, a large, open circular area in the forest, with a small shrine in the center.  “We’re here,” Mezame says.

“But where is here?”  I softly ask myself as I look around the clearing

“From this point onwards, you will address me as my title, Slayer Mezame,” Mezame orders, finally dropping his senile vibe.

“Uh…yes, sir, Slayer Mezame sir,” I answer.  All of a sudden, I feel an intense pressure on my body, a pressure so intense that it causes me to grow so dizzy that I double over and fall to my knees.

“Can you see it?”  Mezame asks.  “No, of course you can’t.  Although you can sense it, you can’t see it.  You haven’t awakened your Cursed Power yet,” Mezame then adds as if answering his own question.  So pressure leaves as quickly as it came, and I’m able to push myself up and stand up again.  His head is still a little groggy, but it isn’t swimming as much compared to before.

“Now, sit here,” Slayer Mezame orders, pointing to the singular tatami mat underneath the shrine in the center of our clearing.

I do as I’m told without questions, sitting down criss-cross-applesauce underneath the shrine.

Mezame walks up behind me and kneels down, placing his hands on the small of my back.  I flinch from his deadly cold hands.

“Close your eyes,” Mezame orders, and I do so.  “Now, let us begin.”

Mezame begins chanting some ominous sounding ritual in a language that I’ve never heard before.  At first, nothing happens.  But then, I feel a small burning in my heart.  The burning sensation grows hotter and hotter, then spreads outwards, until it feels like my entire body is on fire.  Mr. Kittles hisses in fear.

“Uhhh…what’s happening?!”  I cry.

“Don’t break concentration!”  Mezame snaps, before continuing on with his made-up sounding chant.

The burning sensation keeps up for a few more hour-seeming seconds, before bam, it explodes out of me, and a rush of dark-blue…something explodes out of my body.

“No, seriously, what is happening?!”  I cry, barely able to hear myself over the dark-blue burst swirling around my body.

“We’re awakening your Cursed Power, but-” Mezame begins to answer, but his voice trails off.

“But what?!”  I snap.

“I’ve never felt Cursed Power like this before!” .

“EHH?!”  What the Hell has Nick gotten me into…

“Concentrate, Luis, concentrate!  Don’t let it control you, control it!”  Mezame roars.

“Damnit, Luis, get it together…” I groan.  “Remember what Nick said, if he hadn’t shown up that day, everyone I love would have died.  You need to become strong…FOR THEIR SAKE!”

With a roar, the dark blue energy begins flooding into my body, and the burning sensation subsides, leaving a small tingling residue.  After the blue energy finishes seeping into my body, I feel myself grow weak again, and I’m forced to double over and fall to the ground again.

I spit on the ground then wipe my mouth, panting heavily as I do so.  “Is…awakening my Cursed Power supposed to feel like that?”  I weakly grunt as my eyes flicker up to meet Mezame’s.

“Like what?”  Mezame asks.

“Painful.”

“Then no,” Mezame answers.  “In all of my decades as Pro Slayer, I’ve never felt a Cursed Power as sinister and as strong as yours.”

“Sinister?!”  I yelp.

“Yes, but don’t worry about it.  Although yours feels far more sinister than others’, it's normal for new Cursed Power users to have a sinister aura to them.  Even highly toned Pro Slayers still have this issue.  Cursed Power got its name from being a cursed power.  A power that actually stems from demons, the true users of Cursed Power.  Developing Cursed Power is a side effect of human beings being exposed to demons, although not everyone can actually develop Cursed Power, it’s an extraordinarily rare feat.  You should feel accomplished, Luis,” Mezame explains.

“Ah…great,” I spit as I sit back up, plopping my butt on the ground.  “Had I known I’d be subjecting myself to this demonic power, I wouldn’t have taken up Nick’s offer.”

“A demonic power being wielded for a good cause,” Mezame corrects, which makes me feel at least a little bit better about my situation.

“Now!”  Mezame then continues as he claps his hands together.  “What do you have in mind for your Cursed Ability?”

“My…Cursed Ability?”  I ask.

“While raw Cursed Power can be channeled and used for combat, such as coasting your body in Cursed Power for defense or offense, or firing off Cursed Power emissions, Cursed Power isn’t truly strong unless it’s cultivated into a Cursed Ability, which is a technique unique to each Cursed Power user which takes advantage of their Cursed Power to use a powerful skill,” Mezame explains.  “Just remember.  Once you create your Cursed Ability, you can’t really change it.  It’s stuck with you for life.  This will be the biggest decision that you’ll ever have to make, so choose carefully.”

“So a superpower!”  I quip.

“Err…yes, a superpower,” Mezame awkwardly replies.

I do watch a lot of anime and play a lot of fantasy games, so one would think that I of all people would want to have super cool powers.  I haven’t even too much thought into the idea, if I could have powers, what would I choose?  I guess for a realistic real-world scenario teleportation would be cool since I can just go home during the middle of the school day during a bathroom break or lunch period.  Better yet, I could teleport to some exoctic beach paradise!  Though I guess teleportation powers have always had that “you need to have already been in that location before” cliche.  Well anyways, I’ve never been into that role playing stuff or creating my own original characters and pretending to be in some fictional world, not since I’ve been a little kid anyways.  But if I really had to choose, probably something to do with wind.  I want to be free like the wind and just fly away.

That’s it.

“Umm…wind,” I awkwardly reply.  God, this sounds so stupid, talking about what kind of superpower I want with some strange old man.  “If this were a video game or an anime, then I’d want a superpower that has something to do with wind.

Mezame smirks.  “You know Slayer Hachi, correct?”  He asks me.

“Yeah,” I answer.

“Then you want to be like him.  You want an elemental-class Cursed Ability, you want to control the wind,” Mezame explains.

“Nick’s got an elemental Cursed Ability?”  I ask.  “What is it?”

“Ah, I can’t tell you that!  Revealing someone’s Cursed Ability to another without their consent is rude.  It’s like telling your entire class your best friend’s secret that only you were told,” Mezame answers.

“Uhh…I see,” I reply.  Then why do they do that in anime all the time?

“And what would you like to name your Cursed Ability?”  Mezame asks me.

“Does it need a name?”

“Not particularly, but it’s a formamily.  It’s easier to define and cultivate your Cursed Ability if you know what to call it,” Mezame explains.

I think for a moment.  “Then, um…“Wind Control”...I guess,” I sheepishly answer.

Mezame pauses, and stares blankly at me for a few seconds.

“What?”  I ask.

“That’s…a terrible name,” Mezame answers, causing me to recoil.

“Well what else am I supposed to name my stupid superpwoer?!”  I snap.

Mezame sighs.  “No, no, it’s fine.  Who am I to judge someone else’s ability?”

“But you already have…” I growl.

“Now, when are you aiming to have your Cursed Ability developed?”  Mezame asks me.

“Well I’m trying to go to the next Pro Slayer Exams, so, uhh…like a week?”  I answer.

Mezame pauses.

“Ugh, what is it now?”  I groan.

“One week?!  That’s not nearly enough time to develop a Cursed Ability!  Even the prodigies of the prodigies can’t do that?!”  Mezame cries.

“But Nick said that he’s waiting for me at the Pro Slayer Exams?!”  I cry back.

Mezame’s calm demeanor instantly returns.  “Slayer Hachi said that?”  He asks.

“Uh…yeah.”

“And you’re sure that you heard him right?”

“Mh-hmm.”

Mezame sighs.  “Well, if a prodigy of prodigies of perogies said that, then I guess I have no choice but to believe in you.”

Wait, just how impressive is Nick?

“One week, Luis!  In one week I’ll have you equipped with the Cursed Ability of your dreams!”  Mezame booms.  Although he doesn’t sound so enthralled with the idea of training me…

Time for the training arc that every protagonist needs!

 

***

 

From that point on, training was Hell.  Drawing the Cursed Power from within myself was difficult enough, but on top of that I had to manipulate it in an incredibly fast, swirling pattern in order to control the wind around me!

“The method one uses to draw out their Cursed Power differs from person to person, no one Cursed Ability is the same.  But after learning how to draw out your Cursed Power, it is no different than moving your arm, you do it subconsciously.  Now, when I say drawing out your inner power, what comes to mind!?”  Mezame asks.

And so, here I sit, meditating for hours on end.  How do I draw something out of my body when I have no clue what it is?  Like moving my arm?  It’s not like this Cursed Power is a limb, it’s not attached to my body...or is it?  A hidden power within one’s self..like a life aura?  Sounds like...powers in anime!  I focus all of my feelings, I concentrate on my right arm, letting the rest of my body go numb.  When I open my eyes... a dark blue aura is swirling around my arm, it feels...powerful!

“Ah-ha!”  Slayer Mezame shouts.  “You’ve brought out your Cursed Power!  Step two out of four completed!”

I stood up and punched the air with my right arm, still swirling with power, the impact of my arm hurdling the air forward like a cannon, blowing a hole into a tree far in the distance!

“Woah…” I say as I look down and stare at my now much-stronger and far more deadly hands.

After a couple of days of training, I was able to produce weak gusts of wind.  And after a couple more days, I was able to create a small tornado, but only for a couple of seconds.  By the time that the week was up, I had an ability that sort of resembled something that you’d consider “Wind Control.”  And as I stood at the bottom of the tall hill that the Pro Slayer Organization Headquarters stood on, staring at the small tornado that I had created in my hands, whether or not this could be considered “Wind Control” didn’t matter.

It just has to be good enough for today.

Slayer Fūjin, part 1, the pilot volume: Enter: Luis Tramontana, finished.

Next time, on Slayer Fūjin: Will Luis be strong enough to pass the Pro Slayer exams, much less survive?!  Will he be reunited with Nick?  Considering he’s the protagonist, I think you can take a guess.

To be continued in Slayer Fūjin, volume 1-The International Pro Slayer Exams

 

***

 

Location: Unknown demon research base run by the Professional Slayer Organization

Date: August 23rd, 2016

Time: 7:48 P.M.

 

“It’s breaching, it’s breaching!”  One scientist shouts to another.

“It’s going to break free!”  Cries a second.

“What about the Slayers we hired, where are they right now!?”  Barks the first .

“Already dead!”  The second answers.

 “Crap…” mutters the first scientist.  “They told us these were high ranking slayers!”  Just how powerful is this damn demon?!”

The four scientists are held up in what appears to be an underground bunker in a secret laboratory.  Before them, are the corpses of their fellow scientists, strewn about.  The organs and guts of the fallen scientists litter the laboratory floor, which is slippery with blood.

The scientists hear a stomp coming from behind the bunker’s sealed door, causing them to flinch.

“It’s here…” one scientist whispers.

“Prepare yourselves,” says another

The scientists prepare for the worst, but when the bunker door opens, the scientists are simply met with one of their peers.

“Ah, Jerry, you’re okay!”  One of the scientists gleefully exclaim.

But then, “Jerry” limply falls to the ground as nothing more than a corpse, revealing the figure who was standing behind Jerry holding his dead body propped up in the air like a puppet.

Were you expecting some hideous, deformed creature, like the one that Luis saw earlier?  Well if you were, then you’d be wrong.  Because rather than some grotesque fiend standing in the doorway of the bunker, stood just a normal looking woman in her late twenties.  Other than the splatters of blood all across her body.  The woman is boss impressively tall and muscular for a female, and has long, curly, fiery red hair.  She has a hideous, toothy grin plastered on her face, which made it seem like all of the blood and gore excited her.  She sports a hot red leather jacket and a motorcycle helmet with a pair of goggles on them over her head.  The woman’s most striking features, the features which shocked the scientists to their core, are her blood stained black claws, horns, and tail.

“That’s it…isn’t it,” one of the scientists shudder.

“We were only trying to summon a low level demon for our research, why did it have to turn out this way!”  Sobs another.

“Play with fire and you get burned, boys!  You should have known to never tamper with the forces of Hell!  Finally, each and every last member of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are on Earth!”  The woman cackles.

“The demon known the calamity it causes.  The nickname given to it is based on how wherever it goes, anger, hatred, and mass destruction follows.  One of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse under the Demon King, Death.  “War the Calamity”,” a scientist mutters under their breath.

“Bingo!”  The woman -now known as War- booms as they point at the scientist.  “Although you forgot one thing!”  War adds, causing the scientist to shiver.

In the blink of an eye with supernatural speeds, War disappears from the entrance to the bunker, and reappears before the scientist.  “Don’t use gender neutral pronouns with me!  That might fly with Famine, but I’m a hot lady and I deserve some credit!”  War roars, sounding genuinely ticked off.  War reaches out and grabs the scientist’s face with a single meaty claw, causing the scientist to scream.  And in one fell swoop, War closes her claw on the scientists' head, caving in their skull and sending their blood and brains splattering everywhere.  The scientist’s limp body falls to the ground.

“Argh, you got your damn brains on my jacket!”  War snaps, desperately trying to wipe the blood of her leather jacket.  “Oh…whatever,” War then says with a defeated sigh as she turns towards the final scientist.  “You there!”  War barks as she points towards the scientist, causing them to flinch.  “Have you seen a black haired demon with creepy green eyes and a gray suit around here?  Goes my Death, the Demon King?”

“We-we’re not afraid of you, demon!”  The scientist shivers.  “The Pro Slayers will defeat you, you’ll never get away with this!”

War narrows her eyes at the scientists.  “Does that…” she growls.  “ANSWER MY QUESTION?!”  In one fell swoop, War appears before the scientists, jabs a clawed hand into their chest, rips out their heart, causing blood to splatter everywhere, tosses it to the ground, and stomps on it, crushing it instantly.  The scientist limply falls to the ground.

Wars yawns, and brushes her claws against one another, which then morph into regular, human looking hands.  War’s horns and tail retreat back into her body as well.  “I guess I’ll have to find Death the old fashioned way.  Famine should be with him, too.  And I’m sure that Pestilence is still MIA,” War says to herself as she struts back towards the bunker’s door, but War is interrupted when two more figures appear in the doorway of the bunker.

“Stop right there!”  One of the figures, a gruff older man, shouts as they point towards War.  “GRR-AHH!”  The man slams their fist into the ground, sending spiked pillars of stone flying out of the ground towards War.  War raises an eyebrow at the man, before holding a hand up.

“Invincisphere!”  War shouts, and what appears to be a transparent bubble forms around War, completely blocking the man’s attack.  “Paaa-thetic!”  War groans, as the bubble-shield around her begins to shrink until only a small bubble is formed around War’s fist.  War then chambers her fist.  “Bubble-Gun!”  War shouts as she punches outwards, sending the bubble that was around her fist flying towards the man like a bullet, striking him in the center of his chest.  The man then crumbles to the ground.

“Slayer Iwa!”  The second figure, a woman, cries out.  “Damn you…” she growls as she turns back to face War, holding both hands out towards the demon.  “Laser Beam!”  She shouts, sending a bright red blast of energy flying towards War.  War counters by holding a hand up and snapping her fingers, and just like before, a bubble shield forms around War’s body, completely blocking the Slayer’s attack.

“Invincisphere!”  War shouts as she charges the Slayer, and just as before, the shield around War shrinks until a singular bubble remains around her fist.  “Juggernaut Fist!”  War shouts as she thrusts her fist forwards, piercing the Slayer and blowing out their chest, sending another wave of blood and guts splattering everywhere.  The Slayer lets out a final groan before limply falling to the floor.  Only War remains.

“Damn,” War grumbles.  “You got your nasty guts all over my jacket!  Whatever.  Time to find Death.”

And with that, War exits the underground bunker for good.

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