The alleyways, tangled by indiscriminate construction, are like a maze. I'm not even sure which direction I'm heading.
After running for what felt like ages, my breath grew ragged. I checked to see if that ghoul was chasing me and hid behind a corner.
Thank God it was dusk. Above the barren buildings, the sky was tinged with orange. The darker glow to my left meant west, giving me at least a rough idea of which way I was going.
Of course, that was it.
This area was completely unfamiliar. Even if I managed to escape these alleyways, there was every chance I'd still have no idea where I was.
Even if I tried asking a passerby for directions...
At this rate, I should count myself lucky if some brave, upstanding citizen doesn't have me locked up.
I glared miserably at the handcuffs digging into my wrists. Handcuffs: the ultimate 'Look at me, I'm a criminal~' symbol. Sure, I could try to pretend they were just some kind of toy...
The problem wasn't just the cuffs. My face and clothes were splattered with blood.
No, saying I was 'splattered with blood' was an understatement... I was literally drenched in it.
The blood on my face was from the gash across my forehead, and the stains on my clothes came from brushing past the corpse of the police officer whose head had been blown open as I escaped the patrol car.
"I wish I could get in touch with Hitokawa..."
That ghoul swiped my cell phone. It was one of the latest models, damn it...
If I couldn't reach Hitokawa, I could track down the local CCG branch and call for backup. Except I had no clue where I was here either, so that's a dead end as well.
Honestly, right now, what I most wanted wasn't to run from here, nor to land a blow on that ghoul.
"Eto..."
I was simply worried about Eto.
I worried about the kid who'd set out alone to procure food because she felt guilty for how ruined I was.
I prayed her mission had failed. I didn't want her to get hurt.
But if she'd succeeded… if she'd witnessed death up close for the first time, that immature heart of hers would be scarred.
I had to go back to Eto. But not yet.
Right now I wasn't even sure if I'd survive. If I died out here, Eto would...
She'd die... Eto... I'd die...
"...Ugh!!"
It felt like someone had clocked me hard on the back of the head, wrenching my torso.
Hundreds of snakes seemed to be thrashing inside my gut, clawing their way up my throat, as if they'd tear through my stomach lining.
My limbs trembled as if electrocuted, and my vision wavered so violently I couldn't tell up from down.
Once I was somewhat clear of immediate danger, reality began to seep in: the ghoul hunting me, the murder I'd witnessed firsthand, the stench of death caked on my skin... My mind, like a spoiled child, violently rejected it all, and that rejection manifested in my body.
A panic attack.
This one was the worst flare-up I'd ever experienced. It felt like I might die from the attack itself before the ghoul could get me.
A panic attack with a ghoul possibly on my tail was only making a bad situation worse.
I rummaged my chest pocket for my meds. But...
"They're gone...?!"
The pill bottle that should have been in my pocket was missing.
Then I remembered my police car rolling and flipping earlier. I'd obviously dropped them then.
"Dammit, dammit, dammit, dammit!!!"
I kept cursing under my breath but forced myself upright.
I didn't have the luxury of collapsing until the fit passed. Without meds to suppress it, the attack would keep coming back to hold me down.
I had to get back home. Fetch the extra pills from the shelf.
If I didn't deal with this attack first, I couldn't even plan how to handle that ghoul.
Half wishing to escape reality, I moved. I could see the end of the alley. A street with cars.
And... I spotted the only lifeline in this situation.
"Not many fares out tonight..." the taxi driver, leaning back in his seat, sighed as he looked at the darkening sky.
He'd only picked up three passengers all day—and none of them on long rides. At this rate, he wouldn't make enough for gas, let alone a birthday gift for his daughter.
So he looked up at the sky and prayed. Whether it was human, ghoul, or spirit, just let someone hail him.
And sure enough—if there was a god—no sooner had he prayed than he heard the back door open.
"Welcome...!"
The taxi driver, trying to greet the passenger with a bright smile, froze on the spot.
A passenger had climbed in, but he was far from normal-looking.
He was coated head-to-toe in blood—hardly a fashion statement you'd see on the runway. His forehead gaped open as if it needed stitches, his breathing was ragged, sweat beaded on his skin, and he shook like something possessed. All that would have been alarming enough, but to top it off, both of his wrists were shackled in handcuffs.
The taxi driver felt like he'd just want to revoke that prayer he'd offered to the sky.
"Sir..."
"Y-yes, sir! Speak your mind!"
At that tightly controlled voice, the driver snapped to attention.
"Pick one: do you want me to chat about why I look like this? Or do you want me to take every cent in my wallet and race you straight to ○★◇ Villa?"
"..."
He didn't hesitate long before acting.
He started the engine and tore off down the road like a professional racer.
To him, it didn't matter if it was human, ghoul, or ghost—as long as there was money, it was a fare.
I emptied my wallet of every bill, leaving only a few coins, and handed it all over to the taxi driver, then got out.
I said, Don't call the cops—I'm no weirdo—and got out, though I doubted he'd heed that warning.
Even if he did call, there wasn't much I could do about it.
Huff... huff...
Clinging to the wall, I rode the elevator up and reached my apartment. My hands shook so badly I couldn't get the key in the lock, fumbling a few times before finally prying open the door.
The place was quiet. Eto hadn't returned yet. Worry pangs hit me, but at the same time I felt a bittersweet relief that she wouldn't see me like this.
Thud!!
I collapsed at the doorway, shoes and all. Whether it was the fact I was home or pure exhaustion, fatigue washed over me. My panic attack seemed to subside but still clung ferociously.
Spreading fresh blood across the floor, I crawled toward the shelf where I kept my meds.
Pulling myself up and reaching for the pill bottle was harder than I'd thought. In the end, I knocked everything off the shelf, scattering it across the floor, but managed to grab the meds.
I popped two anti-anxiety pills into my mouth. Without water, they kept catching in my throat and making me cough, but I finally swallowed them with a gulp.
Haa... haa... phew...
I sprawled out on the floor, catching my breath.
As time passed, I could feel the attack ebbing. Maybe it was the sedative, but the pain from my wounds also dulled.
Once I could move without too much trouble, I first rifled through my toolbox for some wire.
I didn't have any lockpicking skill, but after fiddling with the wire for a while, I finally managed to spring the handcuffs on my wrists.
I tossed the cuffs aside and, still in my stained clothes, stepped into the shower, washing away the blood and grime. As soon as I got out, I shrugged off the filthy clothes and grabbed the first-aid kit.
I sprayed disinfectant on the cut on my forehead, wrapped it with gauze, and secured it with white tape. I ignored the rest of the minor scrapes—there wasn't time to tend to every little wound.
That ghoul would surely come after me again. I was holding way too dangerous information for him.
I changed into clean clothes and headed for the landline phone.
I tried to recall Hitokawa's cell number, one I had saved but seldom memorized.
"3478... or was it 9?"
I dialed the number, uncertain, and listened silently as the line rang.
Trrring... click.
"...?"
What the...
The tone that had been ringing so smoothly suddenly cut off. Lifting the receiver again, there was no dial tone.
"What's going on?"
I needed to reach Hitokawa fast, so of all times for the phone to die...
Broken? Is it really broken? The timing is just too damn suspicious.
I prayed desperately that this was just my imagination, but the heavens weren't listening.
Thud.
I heard the heavy thud of something coming down.
The front door? No.
The opposite side—the balcony.
Perched on the railing of the fifth-floor balcony where no one could normally climb sat the blood-soaked police officer.
"Heeey~?"
That fucking police cosplay ghoul moved his lips like that.
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