Satsuriku no Tenshi:Volume 1 Chapter 5

“Hey, Zack…make sure to kill me after we get out of here, just like you swore to God.”

Ray looks up at Zack as if in prayer as they ride upon the elevator taking them to B3.

As long as we get out of here okay, I’ll be able to get Zack to kill me…

To Ray, that is her last…her only beacon of hope.

“Ya…don’t gotta say that over’n’over again. I get it.” Zack’s voice is intermingled with a sigh as he gazes into the girl’s eyes. Her persistence never ceases to amaze him.

The elevator doors swing open. Ray has to squint her eyes against the dazzling light.

(It’s bright…)

The floors until now were dim and gloomy. This one seems to simply have an excess of light. Looking up at the ceiling reveals that an abundance of fixtures have been installed in it.

“B3, huh. Even though we could just go all the way t’ the top, it’s gotta stop every damn time. I guess we gotta find another elevator,” Zack grumbles irritably.

“That’s right.” With a quiet hum of acknowledgement, Ray steps out of the elevator. In front of them is a wall of iron bars, blocking their path. Gently, she reaches out a hand to fiddle with the door.

(It’s locked…)

Ray’s expression trembles slightly beneath her apathetic face. If this door won’t open, they won’t be able to proceed further.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Zack looks puzzled as he stares at her standing there motionlessly.

“I wonder if you’ll understand even if I tell you…probably not.”

“Ah?! Just say it anyway, ya don’t know if I’ll get it or not!”

“All right. …This door is locked,” Ray answers quietly.

“Uh, I might be an idiot, but even I know that.” Though she likely had no ill intent, Zack’s lips curve slightly at her words.

“Do you?”

“…Anyway, ain’tcha good at openin’ locked doors? Good luck.” Given yet another cruel response, the man’s lips twist unpleasantly, and he urges her forth, content to leave the work to her.

“Yeah, I’ll do my best…” Ray nods, despite being at an utter loss.

The room they’re locked in together is a little over nine square metres. No matter where she looks, she can’t see anything else in it. It doesn’t look like she’ll be able to find any clues for unlocking the door just by searching.

(I have to be useful to Zack. But, what can I…?)

Ray slips a hand into the purse slung about her shoulders, looking for some kind of tool she might be able to use. Inside – are her sewing tools and something wrapped in a handkerchief.

But, this is…)

Upon suddenly touching that thing, she takes a deep breath.

(I can’t…use this…)

Exhaling slowly, Ray once again uses the handkerchief to cover that thing up with her slender fingers.

“Did ya find something?”

Unable to go on waiting, Zack attempts to peer into her pouch from behind her. A little startled, Ray turns to face him.

“Uh, thread, needle, and – ”

“Oh? Can ya pick the lock with that?” he asks, interrupting her.

“No. And this door doesn’t have a keyhole.” Ray shakes her head softly.

“So there’s no point in havin’ a needle or thread! Move, I’ll smash it open!”

“These are iron bars, so I don’t think you’ll be able to…”

“Shut up. We won’t know ‘till I try it!”

(Ah…)

Paying no heed to Ray’s warnings, Zack vigorously swings his large scythe at the iron bars. But, of course, the door doesn’t move even an inch. All he’s managed to do is cause a small mark.

“Shit, it’s hard!”

His hands grow numb from the recoil.

“…It’s iron.” Ray stares at Zack with an expression as if to say I told you so.

“Then ya shoulda said somethin’ sooner! My hands feel all nasty!”

“…I told you they were iron bars,” Ray says, her voice full of exasperation.

It’s at that moment that, before they can even react, a dazzling beam of red light envelops the room.

“…”

“…What?!”

In contrast to Ray, who stands there in disinterested acceptance of her situation, Zack cautiously looks around the room.

Before long, an ear-piercingly shrill beeping sound resonates around them.

“Hey, get back!”

Coming to his senses, Zack grabs a hold of Ray’s arm, pulling her toward him as he leaps out of the way of the door. He has the feeling he heard a soft noise…like a click from the ceiling, as if something had moved.

And, the next moment, just as he had suspected – a countless number of guns fire at precisely the spot Ray had been standing in.

She feels like her eardrums might rupture. Trembling slightly from the terrible sound, Ray unconsciously presses her face against Zack’s chest for just a moment.

“…Tryin’ t’ make ya into swiss cheese or somethin’…” Zack mutters dumbfoundedly as the guns cease their fire. Turning his gaze up to where the bullets had come from, he sees that numerous firearm muzzles poke out from the ceiling where previously there had been nothing out of the ordinary.

(…Bullets.)

Ray slowly takes a step back from him and takes in a short breath. Her heart is restless. The blue moon from that night faintly comes to mind.

The red light flickers out. Instead, a spotlight so strong the two of them can hardly open their eyes shines upon them.

(It’s bright…)

Ray squints her eyes.

((Ahahahah!))

The shrill, mad laughter of a woman bounces off the walls of the room that still echoes with gunshot fire.

((Hiii! Sorry about the late welcome! You were just so slow that I accidentally took a nap! …But…good job on not dying for now. You pass!))

Even though there is no one else in the room, the walls nearly shake with the forceful sound of loud applause.

(So loud…)

It’s truly unbelievably noisy.

((Especially you, Zack! I wonder just how wonderful your instinct really is! To tell the truth…I’ve thought for quite a while that you would make a splendid sinner. I was all sleepy just a moment ago, but now I’m wide awake!))

(A splendid sinner…?)

The woman simply sounds disparaging to Zack, and it vexes him. He looks toward where her voice seems to come from. But she is nowhere to be seen.

This is because the woman speaks to them through speakers installed all over the floor, elegantly watching them on a large monitor within a room through her surveillance cameras.

“I don’t give a single damn if yer sleepin’ or awake! More importantly, open the damn door already!” Within the spotlight so vibrant it seems it might melt the two of them, Zack snarls out an order and kicks the iron bars.

((Yes, of course. You’ve both passed, so I’ll grant you that boon. But I still haven’t finished putting on my makeup. I was asleep, after all! So how about you prepare to receive your punishment, while I finish up over here?))

“…Hah? Prepare?” Zack’s expression twists in confusion as he listens to the woman speak.

((Yes. Sinners have to take some steps before they can accept their punishment. It just feels better that way, don’t you think? Yes…when you talk of sinners…you obviously need a good mugshot. So go on, chop chop! I’ve left a door open for you.))

After speaking, the woman uses a complicated-looking machine panel to open the door.

“…What’s a mugshot?” Zack asks, looking down at Ray.

Ray opens her mouth to reply, but the woman’s voice rings out as if to interrupt her.

((A picture of your face, Zack. You’ve never had one taken before, have you? How wonderful! I’ll treasure it dearly.))

“…”

Ray stares up at the camera with a displeased expression. Both Zack and she must surely be reflected to that woman through that camera.

((That’s right…Rachel, you too. Make sure you both have your nameplates. If you don’t do as you’re told, you won’t be able to proceed to the next room.))

The woman stares steadily into the monitor as Ray stares back with an utterly unreadable expression. She has no idea what that girl is thinking.

(Rachel…)

Hearing a woman she doesn’t even know say her name feels rather odd.

((Heheh…I am the condemner…oh, you sinful evildoers! I’ll punish you until you’ve been forgiven. Because I am the one who has been permitted to do so!))

The woman speaks rapidly in an enthusiastic voice, as if having been given a part to play. And then the broadcast cuts off.

“…Argh, seriously, what the hell was that?! Her voice is so damn annoyin’, and she just blabbers on about whatever she wants…why the hell do I gotta be punished?! Leave the sleep talk for when yer asleep!” Zack grumbles, clicking his tongue.

“…Sinners…” Ray murmurs to herself, as if unable to hear him.

“Hey, Ray. We don’t got time t’ listen t’ that crazy bitch. Let’s go already.” Huffing out his breath in annoyance, the man proceeds through the door.

“…Yeah.”

(…Sinners…)

People who have committed a sin…

As Ray follows after Zack, that word echoes and whirls over and over within her heart.

▲▽

…Serial killer.

As Ray looks up at Zack’s face as they walk, she suddenly recalls what she had read in his profile.

(Zack’s killed a lot of people…)

“Zack, why did you start killing?:”

“Ah? What’s this all of a sudden?”

“…I’m a bit curious,” Ray says. If she says she’s not truly that interested, it might wind up being a lie. But he doesn’t need to answer. She simply wants to talk – it might not matter about what.

And, the word that woman had said, “sinner”…it still clings to her heart, difficult to dislodge.

“Dunno. But there are tons of worthless people that can be killed, right?” Zack replies as he walks. He’s never really thought deeply about whose life he ends. But, the first time he’d killed someone had probably been because he had thought they would be better off dead than alive.

But since then, I think it’s been different…I just kill ‘cause I want to.

“So you kill those sort of people, Zack…?”

“Not really. I just kill when I want to kill.”

(Because I want to…)

I wonder when he thinks he wants to kill someone…I wish he would think that way about me…

▲▽

The pair walk into the room that had been indicated to them by the woman.

It’s a room exclusively for taking mugshots. The back wall is white with a black border.

(I guess we’re supposed to take a picture in front of this…?)

In front of the wall is a polaroid camera. Beneath it, on the floor, are what appear to be numerous discarded photos, likely taken by that camera.

Ray kneels down to pick them up. All the people in the pictures hold nameplates, probably their own names. And each and every one of them have expressions of despair, as if foreseeing their own deaths.

(I feel like I didn’t see any of these people in the profiles…they might still be alive…)

Where are they…?

Feeling a bit of an uncomfortable chill, the girl stands up and looks around the room. Upon a desk are a set of strings and two white, seemingly blank plates. Quietly picking them up and turning them over reveals that they each have hers and Zack’s full names written upon them. These are likely meant to be hung around their necks.

“…Zack, I think you’re supposed to hang this on your neck,” Ray says, picking up the plate that says Isaac Foster and holding it out to him.

“Yeah.” Not thinking of anything whatsoever, the man takes the plate and hangs it upon himself as she told him to.

“…But…why the hell do I gotta get my picture taken…this is so stupid.” However, he quickly becomes angry at himself, perceiving his actions as bending to that woman’s orders. Having become an adult, he has absolutely no intention of adhering to anyone. But she had said that they wouldn’t be able to go further until they took their mugshots.

“…Haah.” Zack sighs at his situation. All he wants to do is get out of here, but it seems like he’s just being tossed around by each of the other floor masters.

“…Do you not like pictures?” Hearing the sound, Ray turns to ask him this in concern.

“I don’t care. I’ve never taken one or had one taken before. I never wanted to, either.” He sounds like a rebellious teenage boy.

“I see…but, we have to do this if we want to go to the next room.” Ray’s expression is somewhat troubled as she speaks.

(I don’t really want to annoy Zack…)

Though she thinks this, on top of both being sacrifices, it seems that actually getting out of this building is somewhat tricky. There are many traps, perhaps to prevent people from running away. Though she still doesn’t know what sort of system this building operates on, seeing those pictures on the floor makes her believe that they aren’t the only sacrifices here.

“…Argh, shit, I get it! We just have t’ take ‘em, right?!” Cursing angrily, Zack goes to stand in front of the bordered background.

“Yeah…then, I’ll start.” Closing one eye, Ray peers into the camera’s lens.

“Yeah, yeah. Hurry up.”

(Ah, this is annoying…)

Unable to disguise his frustration, Zack fidgets and bounces. It’s difficult for the camera to focus.

“Um…please don’t move. It’s all blurry.” Ray earnestly cautions the man.

“What the hell, why are you so serious?!”

“Yes, like that.”

For an instant, Zack’s frenetic movements cease, and Ray presses the camera’s shutter.

A picture soon emerges from the polaroid camera. And a short while later, Zack’s face appears on the film. Though his expression is displeased, the picture isn’t blurry at all.

(It took a good picture…)

Ray is a bit happy. Somehow, she’s having enough fun to forget that she’s being treated like a criminal.

Putting the picture into her purse, Ray picks up the nameplate with Rachel Gardner written on it and hangs it over her neck. Her movements seem to say that she is enjoying herself.

“Take mine next.”

After speaking to Zack, she walks to stand in front of the white background. Her footsteps are light and cheerful, and don’t match with her cool expression.

“Yeah…so I just push here?” Since this is his first time touching a camera, the man feels somewhat uneasy.

“Yeah.” Ray gives a small nod. So Zack simply presses the button thoughtlessly.

“Ah…”

(He wasn’t even looking into the lens…)

“Heh, I really just had to push the button,” Zack says happily as he investigates the picture the camera prints out. “It’s kinda fun. ‘N easy, too.”

“…But it’s blurry,” Ray complains blankly.

“Aah? Yer the one who told me all I had t’ do was press the button.”

“…”

Ray sinks into silence upon hearing his simple counterargument. She unconsciously begins to pout due to her poor mood.

“Ya got the picture, so it’s fine, right?” the man mumbles, perhaps sensing this.

“Yeah, you’re right…” Ray nods. Though she’d been having fun, they’re only doing this to abide by the woman’s instructions so that they can go to the next room.

“It looks pretty good anyway.” Zack’s expression is rather satisfied as he looks down at the film with Ray’s delicate features. He doesn’t especially like having his picture taken, but taking pictures is unexpectedly fun. And it’s the first time he’s ever touched this sort of machine.

“It’s not.” But Ray quickly shakes her head. After all, the picture is blurry. But perhaps, seeing as she is unable to smile, she wouldn’t have a good picture no matter the situation.

As she’s enveloped in a strange feeling of disappointment, there’s a click in the room – surely the sound of the next door opening.

“Oh, it’s open!”

“Okay.”

Though she doesn’t especially like her own picture, she places it into her pouch as well, and chases after Zack. They proceed to the next room.

▲▽

Opening the door reveals a room with an extremely white, pristine floor. There’s not even a speck of dirt.

(…It looks a bit like the room I woke up in.)

In the centre of the space is a transparent box that almost looks like a shower room. It’s about as large as a telephone booth. Affixed to the entrance is a small plate.

(There’s something written there…)

Drawing nearer to it, Ray scans the mocking message.

You sinners must disinfect those sinful bodies of yours! Make sure to do it properly, or else the next door won’t open~ ♪

She reads aloud in a monotonous voice.

(Did that woman write this…?)

“Disinfect, huh?” Zack’s expression twists in confusion. Being honest, he doesn’t have much of an idea of what that could mean.

“Yeah. It says the next door won’t open until we do.”

“…Another one of these, huh. What are we supposed to do?”

“Maybe we should go inside this thing?” Ray suggests. Though she doesn’t know what to do either, other than “disinfect” herself, the machine in the middle leaves her no other ideas.

“What’s ‘disinfect’?”

“I don’t know…” Ray tilts her head a little. The only thing that comes to mind is something she’s seen in a television drama – a bright light that exterminates bacteria, or something.

“Well, whatever. It’s pointless to stand around here thinking. Let’s finish this.” Zack sighs as he enters the box. It doesn’t sit right with him to do things so slowly.

“Okay.”

Ray enters the machine as well. That next instant, the door locks, as if someone is operating the device from somewhere. Letters scroll along the inside of the door. It says, “disinfection start”. A stream of liquid, reeking of alcohol, flows from the ceiling.

“Hah?! The hell is this?!”

(Heavy rain…)

It’s been years since he’d started living in this building. He can’t remember the last time he heard heavy rain. Feeling like he’s about to become overwhelmed by memories he doesn’t want to remember, he reflexively hits his hand against the door. But it’s locked, and won’t open that easily.

(…I didn’t hear about this…)

Having had her expectations completely trounced, Ray once more falls into silence. It goes without saying that she feels displeased.

After about a minute of raining down upon them, the stream finally stops, and the doors open after a message of “disinfection complete” scrolls along the panes.

“Haah…haah…this is way above gettin’ disinfected…!” Immediately after getting out, Zack takes in a series of harsh breaths. It had been nearly impossible to breathe underneath that harsh rain.

“…”

Still silent, and utterly soaked, Ray exits the device as well. With a sudden start, she recalls her purse, and slips her hand into it. It’ll be a problem if the things inside get wet. But the artificial leather has done a good job of repelling the liquid, and nothing has gotten soaked.

(…Thank goodness.)

Once more, that high-spirited woman’s voice reverberates throughout the room.

((Hiii! It seems you’re all well and prepared for your judgement!))

“Hey, bitch, stop screwin’ around! Stop bein’ all lively’n’crap!” Zack raises his voice angrily, as if he has no intention of losing to that woman. His pants had just finally gotten dry from when he had been in the pool on B4.

((Ahahah, you seemed quite dirty, I think it’s fine.))

The woman replies pleasantly. She feels extremely delighted just looking at how soaked the two of them are through her cameras.

(…I want to dry my hair.)

The alcoholic liquid drips from Ray’s platinum blonde hair. Feeling truly annoyed, she lifts a small hand to gather the liquid from some of the strands.

((Well, now that you’re ready, I’ll give you two a bit of a choice!))

“Hah? There’s somethin’ else?!”

((Yes, Zack. This is just the beginning. After you leave this room, there will be maaany painful punishments awaiting you both! So…how about just going to jail? You can take as much time as you want thinking back on all the sins you’ve committed. It’ll be quite valuable to you, I think. And if you do, you’ll have a splendid life ahead of you as one of my pets! So, what do you say?))

The woman crosses her legs and applies mascara to her long lashes as she looks at the two of them through the monitor. They both look so annoyed.

“Who would willingly do somethin’ like that?” Zack snaps. If he’s going to be kept as a pet in some jail and die slowly, he’s better off just stabbing himself.

“So it’d be for my whole life…I wouldn’t just die immediately…?” Imagining herself imprisoned in such a jail, the girl finds herself asking the woman this.

(Aah?!)

Zack glowers at the girl. She had been this way on Eddie’s floor, too. He doesn’t especially like her attitude that anyone can kill her, even if it isn’t him.

((Oh, my…Rachel, you’d like to go to jail? You can of course enter on your own.))

The woman giggles, and urges her on. It will certainly be entertaining to see the girl die as a doll within one of her cells, all alone.

“She’s not goin’! Hey, Ray. Don’t react t’ what she says! Let’s go!”

Annoyed by the girl’s indecisiveness, Zack grabs one of her slender arms and pulls her toward the now-open door.

(Hmph…)

To the woman, this is not an especially interesting scene.

(But, that promise – I should do this while I can…)

((I see…how unfortunate. And I thought I could keep you forever. Well, if you feel like going to jail, just tell me, all right?))

Thinking of all the things that might occur in the future, the woman laughs boldly.

“Shut up!” Zack shouts angrily as he tugs Ray along.

▲▽

(Does that mean she wanted to go to jail?)

Even though she asked him to kill her, she acts like anything goes so long as she gets to die. Ray’s wishy-washy attitude causes the man ceaseless irritation as he proceeds down the hall.

(Well, it’s not like I wanna kill her…with such a boring face…)

In order to quell the strange, murky feelings welling up within him, Zack opens the next door. He’s greeted by a strange scent that flows through the air, like the smell of something burning.

(What is this?)

Feeling rather uneasy, Ray warily steps into the room, looking around. Inside is a raised portion that almost looks like some sort of stage. And on that stage is an ominous-looking chair, attached by chords to complicated-looking machinery on both sides.

“…”

The girl fearfully approaches the chair. It doesn’t appear to be functional at the moment, but it does seem to have restraints.

(This chair…is probably…)

I’ve seen this in a movie once.

Recalling that cruel scene, the girl takes a small gulp of air.

(But…what are these dolls?)

In front of the strange chair, assembled like an audience, are a series of faceless, childlike dolls – there are sixteen in all, all sitting upon chairs of their own.

“What’s up with those?” Zack asks dumbfoundedly as he stares at the mysterious sight.

“I don’t know.” Ray stares at the dolls silently, trying to figure out what they might be for.

“They’re damn ugly, too.”

“…Are they?” Ray tilts her head a little upon hearing his frank judgement. Ray doesn’t see those dolls as creepy or ugly. On the contrary, seeing them all lined up like this is rather nostalgic and pleasant.

“…Ya got bad taste.” Zack scowls slightly, seeing how different their taste in aesthetics is.

“Is this the first judgement room?” Ray suddenly remembers the woman’s statements.

“Who knows,” he replies nonchalantly. It’s not that he had been ignoring her – he simply can’t be bothered to remember so many things.

Click. An unsettling noise sounds from the entrance.

(…Was it locked?)

Ray rushes to the door and turns the knob.

“Zack, it’s locked.”

“Ah? What is it with everyone here and lockin’ doors and talkin’ t’ people…”

“I think she’s watching us through the cameras,” Ray replies, looking up at one of the cameras in the ceiling. She’s seen them everywhere since she woke up on B7. It’s easy to guess that the woman must have been watching them all this time.

“Hah?! Seriously?! That’s creepy.”

“You wouldn’t do that, Zack?”

“No. There wasn’t anything like that in my room, anyway. Well, even if there were, I don’t got such gross hobbies like that.”

Zack continues speaking, somewhat listlessly,

“Anyway, let’s get outta here already. Just loiterin’ around…ain’t gonna let us move back or forward. This kinda stuff tires me out the most.”

Zack lets out an enormous sigh as he looks around the room. And then, as if to take a break, he promptly sits upon the eerie chair.

“Hey, Zack…I don’t think you should sit on that…”

Ray urges him to get away from it. She remembers a wicked scene she had seen in a movie once. A person, slowly burning to death as they suffer in that awful chair…

“Ah? Shut it. I’m damn tired.”

But Zack relaxes even further upon the chair, crossing his legs.

“…You should get off. I think that chair is…” The girl pales as she looks up at him.

“Huh? What about this chair?” He glares at her. From Zack’s perspective, her expression doesn’t appear especially panicked. He doesn’t know what she’s thinking at all. All he knows is that her eyes are dead.

And, with those dead eyes of hers, Ray stares at him – completely oblivious to any danger he’s in, with a stupid look on his face – and says in a small voice:

“…An electric chair – for executions…”

And then, as if someone somewhere had pressed a button, the restraints on the chair fasten around Zack’s body.

((Ahahahah!))

At that moment, the woman’s laughter reverberates around the room at a pitch so high it seems like it could kill insects. An enormous monitor descends from the ceiling. On it is a beautiful woman with medium-length blonde hair, the tips of which have been dyed pink. Her eyes are catlike.

((Hiii! Sorry for meeting you like this through a screen. I am this floor’s condemner. Please burn me in your memory. Oh my – Zack is the one who sat down!))