The Psyche Diver Trilogy: Demon Hunters (43 page)

He felt the forces against him begin to lessen. He began to move, cautiously—his first priority was to surface. Then he noticed something; a scratching pain around his abdomen. He looked down.

He was invisible, yet a maggot bit into him regardless.
Something from outside of Geshin’s mind
. Hosuke recognized the creature from before.
No fucking way…
It was one of the creatures that had been strewn across Tamura’s mind—and they had found him unconscious outside Kukai’s burial chamber.

One of those black maggots had attached itself to him.

Twenty-two

The Sexual Fiend: Transformation

1

Senkichi Fuminari directed his thoughts to the soft female body cuddled inside his left arm, sleeping peacefully.

His giant frame was over 2 meters tall, with 145 kilograms of bulk; he could crush her by turning in his sleep. It was not that she was small. The effect, rather, was due to Fuminari’s abnormal size. The woman’s body—Ryoko Kitano’s body—was warm. Her head rested against the base of Fuminari’s left shoulder. She had curled up with her pale left arm draped over his massive chest, breasts pushed flat against his side. He could feel her breath on his skin, his own chest rising and falling gently under her arm. He was staring at the ceiling, eyes wide open.

His dark features seemed ready to soften at any moment. He felt somehow that, with the girl asleep to his side like this, his guard might just crumble away. It had to be delusion. He would never know true peace again, not even for a moment. Fuminari glared at the cloudy darkness of the ceiling, attempting to rekindle the demonic flames that lived within him.

Revenge.

A single word, his reason for living.
Killing Hanko
. The flames burning inside him would not die out, not until he had realized this goal. More than even flame, they had congealed into something tumor-like, hard and solid inside him. He would kill, or be killed by Hanko; until then his nights would be spent grinding his teeth. It was impossible to conceive of anything else.

But.
Ryoko’s body was warm. He could feel it, communicated where their skin met. Their body temperatures mixed like an all-enveloping bath.
Was I wrong to get her involved?
Fuminari considered the question. Just moments ago she had been gasping with ecstasy, soaked and writhing as he played his hands and tongue over her; now she was like a night sea, quietly undulating.
Could I kill her if I had to?
Fuminari asked himself. He did not know the answer.
Even if I had to do it crying, could I kill her?
He didn’t know. The answer evaded him, but he could sense the way his breathing had synchronized with hers. A sheet covered them from the waist down. Underneath, one of Ryoko’s smooth legs wrapped over his thick left leg.

“What are you thinking about?” Ryoko’s voice came through the pale dark.

“You’re awake,” Fuminari replied quietly, glaring at the ceiling. She nodded, head still on his shoulder.

Silence.

“What were you thinking about?” Ryoko asked again, her voice fragile. She used her left arm to massage Fuminari’s thick chest.

He offered no reply—
I was trying to work out if I could kill you
. He could hardly tell her that. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what you were thinking?”

“Sure.”

“What kind of
don’t know?
”

“It’s just boring stuff,” Fuminari said, falling silent again.
Am I, Fuminari, engaging in the idle chit-chat of lovers!?
he asked himself.

“How long will it last?” Ryoko asked.

“…”

“How long will
this last?”

Fuminari had no response. It had been close to twenty days. Twenty days since Fuminari had saved her from that rogue private detective Ozaki, from his attempt to abduct her on the street that night near her mansion. It felt like an age ago, yet it felt like no time had passed at all. Her arm had grown tense over his chest.

“I…I actually want to try working again,” she said, almost whispering.

“Working?”

“I know, it’s hardly been twenty days but…I want to work. You know, it was always a pain when I was doing it. I’d always wanted to escape.”

“…”

“It’s just that I get these ideas, colors, patterns—they come in flashes. Then I feel like I have to use them, for work stuff.”

“Huh, okay.”

“I’ve copied them all down, in my notebook. So I don’t forget.” He felt her cheeks moving subtly, still pressed against his skin. Her hair was trapped between them, accentuating the sensation of movement.

“You can leave, if you want,” Fuminari said.

“I can?”

“Give it two days after we move on from here, then you’re free to go. Just make sure not to go back to your old apartment,” Fuminari muttered. He would be happy enough with that, if Ryoko took this chance to leave. If she kept her next location from him, that would be that.

“Maybe I’ll leave, then.”

“Okay then. It’s probably best,” Fuminari said, his voice stiff.

Ryoko clung tighter as he said the words.

“If you stay with us you’ll die, sooner or later,” Fuminari said. He had in no way meant it as a threat. Fuminari had killed Ozaki right in front of her. Ryoko would know he was telling the truth. “Besides, your being here gets in the way.”

“How so?”

“You can’t fight. You slow me down,” he put it bluntly. He knew she was developing feelings for him. He knew the same was true for him. But if she fell into their hands, he would have no choice but to leave her to die. He would do to her what Biku had done to Shimizu when he had crushed his head under the Land Cruiser.

“I guess so,” Ryoko said, quiet after a lengthy silence.

“I know you’re a smart girl,” Fuminari said, remembering how level-headed she had been when leaving her apartment behind.

“Hey,” she reached out to him, taking his right hand in her left, guiding it between her legs. “Fuck me again…”

She rubbed his fingers over her groin. She was still dry. He pushed his fingers through her fleshy lips, finding traces of moisture still inside her, wet against the tip of his finger. He silently traced his finger around the sensation.

“Do it to me…”

Her hips began to move. Fuminari spread the moisture upwards, parting her lips at the tip to locate her sensitive pearl of meat. Her body erupted, pulsing with tiny electrical currents. A new wetness flowed over his fingers, a heat—he pushed her lips further apart. Ryoko let out a trill squeal. Her hands crawled across him, pawing for his limp cock. Then she clamped her hand around him and began to stroke. Her lips came down over his left nipple and she sucked. A thin sound leaked from her mouth. The movement of her hips was no longer conscious, bucking instead in reflexive motions, answering his fingers as they brushed over her.

“Do it now…”

She moaned, pulling up from his chest. In that moment, someone knocked at the door. Fuminari’s fingers fell still.

“No…” She shook her head.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me.” Biku’s voice.

“What do you want?”

“Renobo. She is acting a little strange,” Biku replied.

“Strange?”

“I think you should come down. Feel free to finish what you’re doing first, of course.”

“I’ll be there now.”

Fuminari brought his huge frame up to sit on the bed. It groaned loudly.

“No!”

Ryoko pulled off the sheets and buried her head between his legs, taking him into her mouth. He wrapped his huge hands around her, pulling her slowly away.

“Look. I’ve got to go,” he said, his voice resigned.

2

“What’s the problem?” Fuminari asked, closing the door behind him. He was wearing loose trousers but was naked from the waist up, showing off a heavy chest and rock-like shoulders. His build was wildly impressive.

Biku glanced at the door, then back at Fuminari. “You’re sure that’s okay?” he asked. He meant Ryoko, Fuminari had left her alone.

“It’s fine.”

Biku’s crimson lips responded with a grin.

“So, what’s up?” Fuminari asked again.

“Perhaps we should go down, you can see for yourself,” Biku said.

He walked on ahead, Fuminari followed. They descended to the first floor, then to the basement where there was a small room. A door, at the foot of the stairs. Biku jangled some keys and opened it. There was a faint glow inside, a half-light that only partially resolved the room. It was cramped, with only a single bed on the wooden floor. It was a conversion; most likely it had been a storeroom for something, a wine-cellar. Lying squat on the bed was a pale shadow. There was a slight panting, like an animal’s breath sounding intermittently across the twilight. It was coming from the pale form on the bed.
Ah, uhh, ah, uhh…
It was a voice, female. The woman on the bed was stark naked, breathless with her face in the sheets, rear-end pointed upwards. Her back heaved with each labored breath, rounding out before arching inwards again. Her head came up from the sheets. It was Renobo. Her eyes honed in on Biku and Fuminari, emanating a wild energy. In a moment her gaze transformed into one of sensual longing.

“Men,” she murmured. “Men, come to visit me
.”
Her moist, red lips coiled up at each side. The expression was cold and sensual, designed to incite lust in any man. But something was wrong. Fuminari noticed it immediately. Her face was gaunt. There was that same sense of wanton beauty, but her frame had shed weight somehow.

Then she was moving, suddenly and with the nightmarish speed of an arachnid. She lunged towards Fuminari. He knocked her aside with a simple gesture. She crumpled to the floor. Then she lifted her head and got onto all fours, the edges of her lips stained with blood.

“Fuminari, I know you came here to
fuck
me,” she said. Her voice was shockingly deep and hoarse. It was not the voice of Renobo. “You and your cock came here to fuck me, right here!” She began to cackle the moment she finished the sentence. “Oh no, I remember now! Your little viper doesn’t work!”

“That’s right,” Fuminari answered, looking her straight in the face.

“Well then, let me suck the sperm out of you. You’ll come, yes? I know you will—you came all over my hand before, such a good boy. Oh I’ll treat you well. It’ll be better than with any girl you’ve had before.” Her voice had returned to that deep, husky thing. “Feast on this!”

She lay back, stretching her legs wide for Biku and Fuminari to see. She pulled her knees up and brought her hands around from the outside, using them to pull her lips apart. It was as blatant as a gesture could be. Even her anus was in full view.“Are you seeing this, Biku? I remember what you’d said before. You promised to fuck me here with that prick of yours.” She pushed her buttocks upwards, hips shaking. Whatever clothes she had been wearing were scattered over the floor, pulled out of shape, in disarray like she had ripped them off. “Let me blow you. I’m so much better than the others,” Renobo continued.

“No way in hell I’d stick my cock in
your
mouth. I’d feel safer ramming a cobra,” Fuminari said.

Whatever he stuck in there, tongue or genitals, she would try to bite off. They both remembered the glowering hatred in her eyes when Fuminari had killed Ishibashi. The memory made her current pleading all the more incredulous.
What was she up to?

“How long has she been like this?” Fuminari asked Biku.

“I noticed earlier this evening.”

Renobo had used the distraction of their conversation to get to her feet. She lunged in again, an animal this time heading for Biku’s crotch. Biku dodged to the side, avoiding her.

“You won’t let me? You won’t let me fuck?” She looked up at Biku, eyes burning.

She seemed to be losing her mind. “Don’t look so smug. Have you thought of what has become of that girl, the one that used to go to your apartment? Have you ever thought about that?”

“Yuko, I presume?”

“We had her
raped
, continuously. Oh there were so many men inside her. You must be angry. You must want to put me through the same ordeal…”

“If we’re talking about Yuko, I believe Hosuke Kumon gave himself to your people in order to help her.”

“Hah!” Renobo stared at him. “And you think that will be enough for Master Kurogosho? That he will just let her go? She will
die
. Perhaps she is already dead. She will have suffered.”

“I imagine her
kapala
would be quite fetching, if that is what you are suggesting.” Biku said, his expression unchanging.

Renobo shrieked with clamorous laughter. Her voice caught, breaking halfway as the sound mixed with phlegm. Then her smile was gone. Her skin went from pale to ashen.
Gak, ack!!
She lurched forwards, bending as she retched, hacking a huge gob onto the floor. She wiped her mouth and glared at Biku with murder in her eyes.

Biku narrowed his gaze. Something was happening to her face. To her entire body. He leant in for a better look but she turned away. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and wrenched her head back, forcing her to look at him.

“Don’t you fucking
look at me,” Renobo wailed. The words came like thunder. “
You fucking cunts
!” she screamed. The voice was no longer her own; it had become a terrible, rasping sound.

A network of shallow lines broke out, covering her face even as she strained upwards. Not just her face—it was happening all over. The lines were deepening, multiplying even as Biku looked on. She vomited phlegm over his face. The fluid stuck to him, viscous and warm like a human body. He made no attempt to brush it clear—instead he just stood there, entranced.