A Cat's Tale (The Secret Desires of Hotaru Nyanko)

Twelve: 危険に巻き込まれた (Caught by Danger)

Shin

1995

I work at a local coffee shop downtown at Barry's. I knew I had to step up because my father was always away, and grandma Wida is getting older and older by the day.

I finished high school, but I could not put myself through college, considering the reality that I do not have much support.

"You are a warrior, my child." she would always say.

"You are born to be a fighter."

Now by then, I didn't know what she was talking about, but as time goes by; I realized she was right.

Deep within me is a surging power no one should ever know.

Growing up after that memory in the forest was both a blessing and a curse. I immediately felt a power developing inside of me that is very unnerving. I remember this one moment when I sent my work application to Barry’s. After the interview, I saw a huge truck and there came out three guys, five steps behind their target who is an old man with grey hair holding a suitcase, and those guys began staring and nodding at each other. They planned it at a time when they knew nobody is watching like they were in some kind of devious plan so I sneakily hid behind a fence in a corner.

“Put your hands back!” says the first guy wearing a brown coat.

The old man raised his hands and turned to face them while his suitcase slipped out of his hands.

The other guy with a bald head went behind him, tying his hands.

The man appeared to be a motorbike rider. Steel-toed boots with zinc studs complemented the outfit with black skinny trousers and a jacket. The man himself appeared to be made of steel with only a thin layer of dark olive skin and a layer of goatee covering his cheeks, chin, and scalp. His eyes appeared to be all black, without an eyelid or anything else but a sizable pupil that could give out a deathly gaze that made you wish you were dead. He was at least 6’ and appeared to be a giant next to the first guy, who is 5'9.

The man removed his jacket to reveal arms covered in colors beyond conception and bulked with muscle. 

“Why?” The old man asked with his brows raised in a state of fear and confusion.

“What did I do?”

Immediately the last guy turned his head around, checking if anybody sees them.

He then to his van and started the engine. I watched him from his not-so-tinted car windows. I observed him as he rested his chin on his hand. I guess he was still thinking while he sat there. I gave the man a brief time of my interest before reverting to my existence. He didn't seem to find out, or if he did, it was considerably less than what his mind was currently concentrating on. He had an imposing appearance. He appeared to be wearing a black shirt underneath his trench coat. He was big, lean, and had long hair in addition to having stubble. He had an oddly familiar appearance. I then took a step back and went about my own business.

I began to walk in their opposite direction, pretending not to mind.

Hey, you!” shouted the bald guy.

I began to think, about not holding a knife with me like I used to do for unfortunate events like this.

I began to run as fast as possible, but the bald guy raced towards me like we are in some kind of a tag game. I stood there, bending my head to contemplate while I fixed my gaze on the ground. Everything that led to this incident was fresh in my mind. I could never have predicted how the situation would have unfolded. I felt pain in my lower right stomach while running, so I slowed my pace. It must have been appendicitis because I just ate at Barry’s after the interview, and I gobbled a whole meal.

My legs hurt and my lungs burned, but I continued running, while the others did too. I felt an arm start pulling me up against the wall.

I felt a loud bang in my back, as he takes me by the neck.

I began to speak.

“I…I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

He chuckled so hard, like the bad men I see on television.

He motioned to the guy in a coat something, speaking in German which I hardly understand.

“Lass uns diesen mann schnappen,” he muttered.

When I turned to look at the old man, he began screaming for help from anyone who can see us, but unfortunately, there is not anyone around. The owner of Barry’s who interviewed me left a few minutes ago, leaving traces of dirt behind.

Immediately they took us to the white pickup van whilst the guy held me like we wanted to crush my bones.

The voices started to fade, leaving nothing but silence and the pounding of our chests or hearts. I took a deep breath before folding my hands together and moving forward.

We were halted by two guards as we tried to break past the gates. Red lights began to flash, doors began to close, and the property descended into chaos. When they brought us out to check our bodies for any weapons, I fought off a guard who tried to seize me and threw him against the wall. With fury in my eyes and expressions, I continuously pounded and kicked the second guard until I tore him to pieces.

Stop!

A woman in her fifties cried out, dressed all in white and her dark glasses and red lipstick stood out most from her face.

“Release them,” she says.

The three guys brought the old man out of the van, and they all flocked together, bringing us in.

They carried us to a huge warehouse with an old airplane in sight.

She nodded to those men as if signaling to tie us up in the chair, and we sat there with horror painted on our faces.