VICTORAY SAWA No. 2

The Viper is just outside the room, just around the corner, I know, but I cannot face him, becuase he took my parents. This hotel room, with red velveted carpets, is where we stay, is where the mantels are adorned with photos of my parents and me, smiling, surrounded by falling orange leaves, by black umbrellas in grey city rain. But my parents, of course, are gone. They were gone when I came back from my walk. The Viper, Victoray Sawa took them.


I leave the room and turn the corner, and The Viper Victoray Sawa stands before me. He is two heads taller than I am. His right arm, right leg, and the whole right half of his body are the palest paper white. His left arm, his left leg, and the whole left half of his body are the darkest colorless black. He stands, in the shape of a sumotori, legs bent at the knee and hands on his thighs. His face, half white and half black, looks at me with closed eyes, his mouth locked in a snarling frown as on a dark samurai mask. In this way he stands, his cold malevolent stare painful to my eyes.

The Viper Victoray Sawa opens his mouth and a dark liquid spews forth in bursts, burning my flesh. I cannot scream, and I cannot move. I am afraid yet I feel no fear, for Victoray Sawa has taken me too, and I can never go home.