Satsuriku no Tenshi:Volume 1 Chapter 6

Chapter 6 - Zack's Memory

The rain poured relentlessly, as if to wash away everything in its path.

After I killed that married couple and left the institution, I walked toward the city in the midst of that unforgiving rain. The institution was in the outskirts, but I thought that if I walked far enough, I’d get to the city. So I continued on, single-mindedly.

(…But what am I gonna do when I get there?)

It’s not like I actually had any place to go.

And because there was nothing good to eat, the harsh rain mercilessly stole away what little remained of my strength. The thrill of killing that married couple was the only thing allowing my skeleton-thin body to continue moving forward.

As I tottered unsteadily along, a red car came to a stop beside me. A tall woman in high heels, wearing heavy makeup, emerged from the it.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

I guess she felt concern for me, a kid walking all alone on a night like this, in the pouring rain.

But the moment she took a closer look at me, she couldn’t help but scream.

I can’t blame her.

My clothes were soaked in blood, and my once-painful burn scars were clearly visible beneath my unravelling bandages. And in my hand, I carried a kitchen knife smeared in the orphanage caretakers’ blood.

“Y-you should run along home, now!” The woman spoke quickly, her expression enveloped in fear.

“…I don’t got a home to go back to.”

The moment those words left my lips, I pointed the knife toward her. After all, the face that woman was making was the same as the woman in that movie. So I couldn’t just let her go. Maybe I’d wanted to feel that thrill again.

The woman immediately turned her back on me and ran back toward her car. But she was too slow.

“Kyaaa…!”

It was just like that movie. Just like that murderer, I swung my knife downwards and slashed at her as hard as I could. She immediately shrieked in such a high-pitched, shrill way – it was annoying. But that irritating voice drowned out the rain. In the end, she stopped breathing all too soon.

After that, I climbed into her car. Because the rain wouldn’t get to me there. I was tired from walking. And even if I got to the city, I’d have no place to go after that.

The woman lay discarded on the road beside the car, the whites of her eyes staring sightlessly. Her lips, stained bright red with lipstick, looked sort of creepy.

“…”

But, I wonder why…unlike the moment I had stabbed that woman to death, I couldn’t feel any particular interest in the dead body. In fact, I wanted it to just disappear.

(Guess I’ll sleep a bit…)

I closed my eyes as if trying to avert my gaze from the corpse. But I couldn’t fall asleep very easily. That strange elation still thrummed through my body.

So, unable to sleep, I simply lay in the car like that.

Eventually, the rain began to abate, and the sky cleared up.

(What should I do now…)

I wondered to myself, staring up at the dark sky through the rain-spattered window. But nothing else surfaced in my mind asides from that. Perhaps it was better to say that I couldn’t think of anything else. I’m not very good at thinking. Somehow, the very act annoys me. When I try, my mind whirls, and it becomes nothing more than a chore.

“Hah…”

I unintentionally sighed, and that’s when I heard something hit the car door.

(What was that…?)

Twisting my body to look outside the window, I saw an old man standing there. I guessed he must have been homeless…his clothes were quite shabby-looking.

“…It’s no good to just leave a car in the middle of the road like that. Is the driver around?”

After a moment, the old man said that, his eyes not seeming to see a thing. Perhaps it was because they couldn’t focus on anything; but it felt like he was looking somewhere far off into the distance.

Suddenly, the old man’s cane collided with the dead woman’s body. However, he merely tilted his head, apparently not finding the sound to be of much concern. I have no idea whether or not he knew it was a person – but he seemed to be strangely apprehensive regardless.

“Is someone there?”

The old man turned his gaze toward me, as if he could sense my presence.

“Ah…” I unintentionally made a small sound, as if I’d been asked a question.

“A child…? Where did you come from?” the old man asked me in a soft, kind voice.

“…”

I don’t know why, but for some reason, I couldn’t answer him very well. I hadn’t really talked to people or held conversations before. In the first place, I didn’t know where that institution was – and even if I did, an idiot like me wouldn’t have been able to explain it.

“…Shut up.” Irritated, I mumbled this to myself.

(…I hate adults who talk all confusing the most – )

I clenched the knife in my hand and held it toward that old man. But I didn’t have much strength anymore. It was probably because, on top of walking in the hard rain, I hadn’t slept all night. But it should be easy to kill an old man like this all by himself.

But, even though I held that knife up toward him, that old man’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. In fact, his face was as blank as if he hadn’t been thinking of anything at all.

(Why…?)

For some reason, that made me feel so sick I wanted to puke.

“What’s wrong? I’m blind, you see. If you don’t say anything, I won’t understand you.”

The old man hung his head as he said that. I really did feel like I wanted to vomit. Maybe it was because of the bad air in the car and the lack of sleep.

(…He’s…blind…)

I felt somehow let down. This was – anticlimactic. And for some reason, I lost every bit of strength in my body.

I suddenly found myself assailed by an unbelievable sleepiness. And so – my consciousness faded, as if I were falling into a black pit.

▲▽

When I opened my eyes, I didn’t recognise where I was. I was in some kind of worn-out house that reminded me of an abandoned building. The air smelt filthy, like a toilet.

(What is this…?)

On top of my filthy body covered in blood and rain was a dirty trench coat.

“Did you wake up?”

The moment I stand, a door riddled with numerous cracks slid open. The old man came into the room from what looked to be a kitchen. He reeked of urine. And that was when I understood that this unhygienic place must be where he lived.

(He took me here…?)

I wonder…what happened to those dead bodies. The married couple and that woman. Though I did think of them for an instant, I’ve probably got nothing to do with them anymore. I don’t even like corpses. Just like thinking… I guess there’s nothing in this world that I like.

“Please, eat this.”

The old man held out a piece of bread to me with a hand stained intermittently with black spots. I was still half-asleep. When was the last time I’d been given something to eat…? Anyway, my stomach was always empty. Or, maybe I was always so hungry that I’d stopped feeling hungry in the first place.

I snatched the bread away from him as if afraid he would take it away, and stuffed it into my mouth. It was awfully hard. But I didn’t care much. So long as I could eat it, it didn’t matter what it was; whether it tasted good or bad wasn’t important.

The old man took another piece of bread similar to the one he had given me, and with that expressionless face of his and his bad-looking teeth, he began to eat as well.

“Why were you there all by yourself?”

I’d consumed the bread in the blink of an eye, but the old man ate frighteningly slowly. And he asked me that question once again after he had finally finished.

(Why…)

Even now, I can’t really understand what had been happening around me. Just how I’d been able to live this long. Why I was alive. I don’t even know that now. I just don’t want to die, so I keep on living. I wanted to kill that married couple and that woman, so I killed them. That’s all –

“…Well…you must have some reason. It’s all right if you can’t put it into words. If you have nowhere else to go, I wouldn’t mind if you stayed here with me.” The old man said that after a short silence.

“…Why?” Unthinkingly, I opened my mouth.

I didn’t understand him. He’d just met me this morning, we had no blood ties, and it’s not like I’d done anything for this man. I didn’t understand why he would say something like that to a kid he’d just barely met.

“If you don’t want to, you can leave whenever you like.” The old man spoke curtly. But I think he sounded a bit lonely, too.

“…I didn’t say I didn’t want to,” I mumble as if talking to myself.

(…That’s right, it’s good I’ve got a place to sleep now…)

“I see.”

It was probably my imagination that that old man smiled a little. It had to be. There’s a limit to creepy shit like that.

▲▽

And so, for a short period of time, I lived with that blind man in that abandoned building.

Though I say we lived together, we didn’t do anything together, nor did we speak to one another. Most of the time, we dozed. I don’t know why, but for some reason, when I was with that old man, no matter how much I slept, I felt drowsy.

Perhaps because of his poor eyesight, he neither cleaned nor cooked. He didn’t go out often except in the mornings. I didn’t feel like going anywhere, either – I didn’t know where I would go anyway – so I simply stayed in that tiny room that stunk of piss, and closed my eyes, not thinking of anything. Strangely, I didn’t feel bored.

It was the first time I’d lived without thinking of anything and without being tormented by anything. And I wasn’t hungry anymore.

“Eat this.”

Because everyday, that old man would give me hard, crusty bread.

I accepted that bread full of wonderment. The old man also ate that hard bread.

(It’s all mouldy…)

Because of the rain, sometimes the bread would be mouldy. I understood less and less why that old man, who clearly didn’t have much money to his name, would give me food, especially because I never did anything for him.

After all, until then, I had only ever been used by the adults around me –

But that old man never ordered anything of me.

He just talked about trivial things whenever the thought hit him.

Stuff like, “the weather is nice today,” or “what do you want to become in the future?”, or “I wish you good dreams”…

At those times, I’d always get some weird shiver in my heart. It made me want to rip it out with my own two hands. But I couldn’t figure out what that shiver was.

So, I couldn’t do anything to appease that weird, uncomfortable feeling.

▲▽

“It’s cold today.”

“…”

For some reason, when he spoke to me, I felt such a strong shiver that I couldn’t stand it.

(…I feel sick.)

I wanted to get rid of it immediately. And once I thought that to myself – I once again felt an urge to kill.

(That’s right…how about I kill that old man?)

I decided that that would be the easiest way.

But whenever I approached him with a knife, his face bore an expression of one who knew absolutely nothing. I guess it was natural, since he was stupid on top of being blind.

(…Ah.)

Suddenly, killing this unhappy, wretched, blank-faced old man seemed completely and terribly pointless. Even if I did, that shiver definitely wouldn’t go away.

So I went outside. I wonder how much time had passed since I had left the house. But, that doesn’t matter.

(I want to kill.)

Those words were the only ones rattling about in my head. It didn’t matter who it was so long as I could kill them.

Not too far from the house, there was a small river, which could be crossed over by a bridge. I killed someone there. All I can remember now was that it was a guy – I have no idea what kind of person he was. He was talking to someone on his cellphone, laughing happily, so I killed him. The person on the other side of the phone sounded panicked. Maybe it was his lover or something.

The moment that man had seen the knife in my hand, his body had stiffened in fear.

And seeing that gave me an elation so great that it dispelled that shiver I felt.

Oh, I get it now. I guess I wanted to figure out what that thrill I felt was.

But, for some reason…I thought about that old man, too.

I wonder what he’d think if he saw me right now…he’d probably lose his mind…

…So, I’ll kill him…

If I do, I’ll know everything there is to know about this thrill surging through my body.

And so, with the blood of a man I’d never spoken once to all over my body, I returned to the house where that old man waited for me.

“What happened?”

Despite being blind, it seemed he could sense that something strange had happened. He could probably smell the fresh blood.

“I killed someone. I wanted to kill them, so I did.” I said the complete truth, staring straight into that man’s white eyes.

And then…I told him everything. I told him about all the people I had killed before I had met him. I told him about what I had done on that rainy night I had met him, about the married couple at the institution, about the woman who had called out to me. I told him everything in great detail.

I was certain he would become greatly panicked, discovering he had thought I was just a poor kid, learning he’d taken someone like me into his house.

“I see.”

But he didn’t become flustered in the slightest. He wasn’t even afraid. He just said that in a somewhat sad voice.

(…Why?)

I didn’t understand.

If he’d become panicked, I would have killed him right away –

“So, what do you want to do now?”

(…What do I want to do?)

I couldn’t answer him. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I didn’t have any sort of answer. Because – I’d just wanted to see his terrified face.

I thought I’d kill him without even batting an eyelash as soon as he showed me a face filled with despair –

“…”

I sank into silence as blood dripped from my clothes, and the old man simply said,

“You must be tired, right? Go on and sleep.”

And draped my shoulders with a filthy coat.

What is this? What the hell is this?

(What exactly am I to this old man…?)

I didn’t know. I don’t know. Maybe I was afraid of knowing.

(I don’t want to think about anything anymore.)

My knife was twisted and worn from cutting into the flesh of four different people. Dropping it, I collapsed right then and there, and fell asleep. The only thing I knew was that the knife was probably useless by now.

▲▽

The next day, when I opened my eyes, the old man wasn’t there.

But that was normal. He was never here at dawn. Every morning, he’d go for a walk. And from who knows where, he’d bring back that hard, stale bread.

When my eyes fell to the table, I noticed something strange – a piece of paper of some kind.

I’ll be back at noon. Wait for me.

But I couldn’t read. I was never taught. So I didn’t understand what was written there.

(It’s probably something for me…)

There was that shiver again. And for some reason, I was painfully curious about what that letter said.

So, the entire day, consumed with an unending agitation – I waited for that old man.

▲▽

…That morning, that child stank of blood.

His voice was hoarse, and he smelt filthy. That was all I needed to tell what unsanitary conditions that child had been living in. Someone like me, who was exiled from decent society, can understand these things –

And yesterday, that child killed someone.

I’d thought it was unusual for him to go out. And when I had smelt the blood, I had had to ask him what had happened. And he had answered honestly and immediately, without the slightest bit of shyness – in fact, he had seemed almost boastful.

And that’s not all. He also told me about all the other murders he had committed. I could not figure out if his tone was merry or menacing.

And I didn’t know what to say, so I simply said, “I see”.

What should I have said to him?

I’m sure he wanted something from me…but I don’t know what.

Perhaps he wanted me to give some kind of meaning to his existence. He seemed almost tormented by my kindness toward him, toward someone I had just met.

And I found him to be extremely pitiful…and needing to be loved.

But I had not the self-confidence to convey that to that child. Even though I’ve come to this age, I’ve never had a child of my own.

I only took him home with me that day on a whim.

Perhaps I couldn’t leave him alone because I’d been reminded of myself, a long time ago. But it was also true that I had simply thought him to be pitiful.

Suddenly, I found myself wondering if it would be all right for me to try to turn that child toward a better path, even just a little bit. I wondered if there was even the slightest thing that I could do for him.

After all, I only have a few years left. And until now, I’ve only lead an insignificant, irresponsible life.

Would it be all right for me to try to do something for that child from now on?

The heat of the sun washed down upon me along with the drizzling morning rain. Tapping my stick on the ground to make sure of the path ahead of me, I walked toward the usual bakery. There, I bought soft, fresh bread for him, not the scraps he was used to.

I wonder if he’ll already have awoken when I get home…

(I think I should be able to ask him for his name now…)

I laughed as I imagined that child’s bewildered response, and hurried down the path home, tightly holding my bag of bread. The sweet scent of freshly baked bread filled the air.

▲▽

In the end, the old man didn’t come home that day. Or the next. Or the next.

He must have run away. I should have killed him when I had the chance –

I tore the letter I couldn’t read up into tiny pieces, and threw it to the floor.

What was this? What was this feeling? I don’t know.

I don’t know I don’t know Idon’tknowIdon’tknowIdon’tknow – I don’t want to know –

“Arghhh!”

As if to expel all the uncomfortable sensations I had ever felt, I screamed aloud, and set on the house in a rampage. After all, if he wasn’t going to come back, there was no reason to hold myself back. I broke everything that could possibly be broken. I stabbed the furniture with all my strength, using that warped knife.

And a shimmering blade fell out of one of the drawers.

(A knife…)

Ah…I want to kill.

I want to kill I want to kill I want to kill I want to kill I want to kill! I want to kill so bad I can’t help it!

Uncontrollable urges took a hold of my body. Unhesitatingly, I grabbed that knife and ran outside.

Of course, I had no where in particular to go.

(I want to kill.)

That was my only goal.

I walked as if sleepwalking, when I saw the neon flickering lights in the city. As if drawn toward them, I wandered into a back-alley. A little ways inside, a tall man with a skull necklace and a curly-haired woman wearing a miniskirt were talking to one another enthusiastically.

“That old guy only had five dollars in his wallet!”

“Whoa, seriously?”

The man held a familiar-looking cane in his hand.

(That’s…)

There was no mistaking it. That was the walking stick that old man had always carried with him.

“Seriously! It was such a waste of time. He pissed me off, so I threw him into the river. Hahahah!”

And, with a disgusting laugh, he broke the cane clean in half.

That day…the day I first killed someone was the first time I ever saw a movie.

I don’t remember what it was called or what it was about anymore. But I remember a scene where a murderer killed a man and a woman – a couple. No…it’s not that I remember it. It’s been seared into my memory.

That monster appeared, crushing their happy, flimsy days into nothingness.

…I see. Because happy people like that exist, monsters also exist.

(…I’m gonna…fill you with despair – !)

When I came to, the knife was stained with blood. The curly-haired woman lay collapsed on the ground, twitching erratically.

“Wha – what are you doing…!”

Despite his attempt at bluffing, the man’s voice trembled.

And I felt a thrill in the depths of my heart far exceeding that of before.

For some reason, I heard that old man’s words again.

“So, what do you want to do now?”

…I’ve decided.

I want to kill them.

I don’t know if it’s fun. But I want to warp the faces of those bastards, smiling like creeps, into agony and despair, and I want to kill them.

That’s what I think from the bottom of my heart.

No one got close to me, except for that old man. No one needed me. It didn’t matter if someone as gross and disgusting as me was there or not.

But as long as I have a knife, I can make people look at me with despair and fear.

And that moment makes me happy.

(Does thinking that make me a killer?)

“…I’m a monster.”

When I tried saying those words, I felt a tugging sensation, a mixture of pain and delight.

It might have been the moment I freed myself from being tormented by others, or it might have been the moment I realised what I was.

(…I am the one who kills others.)

Yes, that’s definitely what I am –

Spontaneously, I started to laugh.

“Hyahahahah!”

My eyes were wide open as I raised that knife up and rushed toward that man, his expression full of despair as his body trembled in fear. And I stabbed his body, his face, his heart, over, and over, and over again with that knife.

The screams stopped. The two dead bodies simply lay on the ground grotesquely. I really did simply lose interest once they died.

I looked up at the clear night sky to see the amber full moon shining down on me.

“The weather is nice today.”

“…Ya shouldn’t’ve gotten yerself killed…”

I sighed a little, and tasted hard bread on my tongue.

I walked away into the darkness of the alley, clutching that knife. To that house, where the old man won’t come back anymore, to that ruined old building – to sleep.

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