Grimm Tales: Rise of the Yokai

Chapter 1: Crystal City

I had the nightmare again. After all these years, the memories hadn't faded at all. I'm still having bad dreams. Is that even the right way to say it? Can you still call something a bad dream when it really happened?

It's been nearly nine years since then. There was a time when I could remember everything about that day. Not anymore. Now the only things I can remember are the bits and pieces my nightmares have burned into my brain.

The first thing I remember is getting separated from my parents. I was all alone, the maze of shelves and crates around me seeming to stretch on forever. The old, musty air made my nose itch. Each flicker of the old bulbs hanging from the ceiling made the shadows shift and move like some great creature shifting in its sleep.

Even at eight years old, I could feel the power in that place, like a tingling in the back of my mind. I didn't want to be alone. I wanted to find my parents, leave, and never come back.

I wandered through the shelves, trying to find my parents. Find an exit. Anything to get out of this creepy place.

And that's when it happened.

It was the sound that got my attention. A tapping, rattling sound. As I rounded the next corner, I heard it again, louder this time.

It was coming from a clay jar, not much bigger than a flower vase. The jar was covered in a thick layer of dust, and its surface was etched with runes and symbols I couldn't begin to understand. Worn leather straps held the lid in place.

I inched slowly closer, the tapping getting louder and more urgent. The jar rattled and rocked on its shelf, shaking harder and harder. I reached out, and just as my fingers brushed the sides of the jar, it went still.

I lifted the jar off its shelf and staggered back under its weight. It was much heavier than it looked. Carefully, I lowered it down to the ground and undid the straps. I started to lift the lid.

Then all hell broke loose.

The lid slipped from my hand as I was blasted across the aisle and into another shelf as a huge, black something erupted from the jar. The Vault shook violently, darkness spreading all around me, slightly more solid than smoke, bitter cold and darker than the blackest ink.

The blast had knocked me into the shelf pretty hard. I hurt all over, and my head felt like it was being split in two.

That's when I saw it. A shape looming up out of the darkness. I can't remember what it looked like, but I'll never forget the eyes. Those blank white eyes staring out from the shadows.

And then it spoke. I don't really know what I was expecting. A roar? Threats? A villainous monologue? I certainly hadn't expected it to sound almost human. The voice was calm, almost gentle. It almost sounded...happy?

"Thank you, child." I flinched away and covered my ears. The voice was quiet and calm, but it carried a power that I could feel down to my bones.

The eyes vanished as the darkness swept over me, and everything went still.

*******

I woke with a start, the hammock swinging so wildly it nearly dumped me onto the floor. I grabbed for the porch railing, steadying myself while I waited for my heart to slow down and sink out of my throat. I breathed deeply and slowly, timing my breaths with the white noise of the waves rolling over the beach below me, the roof of the porch keeping me shaded and cool, blocking out the worst of the afternoon sun.

You'd think after having the same dream for so many years, I'd eventually get to a point where it wouldn't bother me anymore. Too bad I just didn't seem to be there yet. If anything, it seemed like it was getting even further away. I mean, that's the second time I've had that nightmare today.