Thomas Randall - Spirits of the Noh

Its tongue flickered out in a long hiss and its flesh shifted again, becoming a snake-eyed woman of exotic beauty. The Hannya whispered a hiss into Rob Harper’s ear and, staring over his shoulder from behind, grinned at Kara with the twin glint of two sharp teeth.

“Remember, later,” the demon said, in a quiet, almost dainty voice, “that he didn’t have to die. Know that I killed him because you interfered.”

Miho could still feel the effects of the Hannya’s venom. Her bones were stiff and her muscles ached and her head felt stuffed with cotton. But she was alive, and thanks to Mai-of all people-she thought she might get to stay that way. When the girl had first come through the attic door and seen the ruin of flesh and bone that had once been Daisuke, of course Mai had screamed. Miho whispering to her from the shadows only startled her into screaming louder.

But when Mai saw Wakana, she had begun to calm down, and to think. Miho had moved to block both girls’ view of Daisuke’s corpse as Mai fussed over the bruises and cuts that Wakana had acquired in the attic. Wakana had not told Miho much-she was so disoriented and weak herself-but it seemed she had hurt herself trying to force her way out of the attic, and that more than once the Hannya had bitten her, filling her blood with that paralyzing venom.

For several minutes, Wakana and Mai had embraced there in the attic, with the door yawning wide just beyond them. Miho tried to be as respectful as she could, to give them that time. It was obvious that they both had cared deeply for Daisuke, and grief shook them both as they wept quietly in each other’s arms. But then she could not wait any longer.

“We need to get out of here,” Miho said. “While the house is empty, before it-before she comes back.”

Mai kept her eyes shut and squeezed Wakana to her tightly. With a deep breath, she released her. Wakana swayed to one side, barely able to remain standing, so Mai steadied her, then turned toward Miho and nodded.

“I just want to… to say good-bye to Daisuke,” Mai said.

Miho had shaken her head. “No you don’t. Not now.”

“She’s right,” Wakana said. “Daisuke isn’t here anymore. We’ll remember him properly when all of this is done.”

Reluctantly, Mai relented. She put an arm around Wakana and helped the girl toward the door. Miho had gone ahead of them. Even as she put her foot on the landing, there came a crash from far below, on the first floor.

“What was that?” Wakana asked, eyes wide.

Miho and Mai exchanged a glance. “The front door?” Miho said.

“I think so. Your friends are all coming to help us. It must be them,” Mai replied. “But if they’re willing to break in like that-”

“The Hannya must be coming,” Miho finished. “Either that or it’s already here.”

Wakana whimpered, sagging, forcing Mai to bear even more of her weight.

“She should wait here,” Miho said. “If we have to defend ourselves-”

“What? No!” Wakana said, her words slightly slurred as though she’d been drinking.

Mai glared at Miho. “I will not leave her here. If we have to make a run for it, Wakana would be alone. We’ll make it out together, or not at all.”

All Miho could do was shrug. Voices carried from downstairs, shouting at one another. She led the way, hurrying down to the second floor, with Mai helping Wakana descend behind her. Miho hesitated only a moment, glancing around to make sure they were alone on that level of the house, and then she started down to the first floor. Now she could hear the voices more clearly-Kara’s, her father’s, Hachiro’s, and Sakura’s-and the words chilled her.

Halfway down the steps, she paused, holding her breath. Kara shouted at her father, who then began to scream at them to call for an ambulance. Something had happened to Miss Aritomo. But didn’t they know that she was the Hannya? Wasn’t that why they were here?

Miho crept down a few more steps, light from the living room spilling into the stairwell. Something touched her arm and she gasped and turned to find Mai beside her. Despite her fears for Wakana, she had left the other girl at the top of the stairs. That was good. Something awful had begun to unfold in the living room and Wakana would only be in more danger if they brought her into its midst.

Mai nodded to Miho, a signal for them to continue, and Miho obliged. They went down several more steps together, clinging to the walls, and now Miho caught sight of the Hannya wrapping itself around Professor Harper. And it spoke.

“ Remember, later, that he didn’t have to die. Know that I killed him because you interfered. ”

Miho reached out and grabbed Mai’s wrist. She stared, unable to breathe, as the Hannya opened its mouth-the dark beauty of its female guise giving way to grotesquerie as its jaws unhinged-and bent its head as though to tear out Professor Harper’s throat.

“No!” Miho cried.

She and Mai lunged as one and grabbed the Hannya’s arms, their weight and momentum helping them tear the demon away from Kara’s father. Its hiss of rage and frustration filled Miho’s ears, but she heard another noise-a shout of triumph-as Sakura threw herself at Professor Harper, practically tackling him as she forced him across the room, away from the Hannya.

As the demon hissed in their grasp it thrashed against Mai and Miho. Staggering backward, Miho stumbled over the unconscious Miss Aritomo, and then she and Mai were both falling in a tangle of limbs, dragging the Hannya down on top of them.

Mai screamed in pain and Miho flinched as tiny flecks of the other girl’s blood spattered her face. The Hannya writhed in Miho’s grip, flesh shifting as it twisted round, and once again it wore the face of the demon. This close, Miho saw it looked very little like the mask on Miss Aritomo’s wall, or the one she herself had tried to create for the staging of Dojoji. Its eyes had huge black slitted pupils, limned with sickly yellow, and nictating membranes slid over those gelatinous orbs. The demon’s wiry hair looked like dried, blackened cornsilk, and its leathern skin consisted of a million diamond-shaped scales.

“Get it off her!” someone shouted.

Sakura called her name.

Miho saw, just a few feet away, a long kitchen knife gleaming on the wooden floor where someone had dropped it. Bells began to ring, and the Hannya flinched, tensing and hissing. Miho took that moment to lunge for the knife, but the Hannya shrugged as though shaking off a blow and caught her before she could reach the blade. As it dragged Miho closer, its forked tongue darted out and struck her cheek and she cried out, but already a terrible numbness spread across her face and down her spine.

Mai wrapped an arm around the Hannya’s throat, preventing it from lunging any closer to Miho, but the demon grabbed hold of Mai’s left hand and twisted hard enough that the snap of breaking bone was clearly audible.

Mai screamed. The Hannya thrashed her off and came at Miho again. She tried to block its attack with her hands, even as she grew disoriented once more. Her palm caught on one of the Hannya’s horns, puncturing the skin and drawing her blood.

It darted in, so much like a snake, and bit her with a quick strike before pulling back. Those dreadful eyes studied her and the Hannya smiled.

As darkness began to swim in around the edges of her vision, Miho heard the ringing of the bells grow louder and more insistent. Then her senses began to fail her entirely, except that she could still smell Mai’s blood.

In the moment when the Hannya had been about to kill her father, Kara had frozen. Unable to breathe, unable to move, she could only stare as the impossible unfolded before her. It couldn’t be happening. Inside her head, she could hear herself screaming, but no sound came from her lips. The Hannya had locked eyes with her, pinning her with its gaze, but she knew that even if she hurled herself across the room she would never reach the demon in time to save him. She felt herself suffocating inside the Noh mask that covered her face.