𝐀 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 [𝘈 𝘒𝘕𝘠 𝘍𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯]

Chapter 7

     Saburo could vividly remember the day he had lost his family. He had been visiting a nearby village in hopes of finding work because his previous job as a farmer was lost due to him having to sell the last of their farmland. He had had hopes of buying a nice home to settle down in so that he could provide them with better shelter and warmth. He had managed to make a deal with a local blacksmith who was willing to take the young, just married Saburo in as an apprentice and had been heading home. 

     Upon returning to his home, he entered the eerily quiet house to find blood everywhere. Terrified he grabbed a cane that he had leaning against the wall. Brandishing the cane he searched the house to no avail.  He was unable to find his wife, but did manage to find a trail of bloodstains that looked a lot fresher than the others. The trail led into the pine forest that completely surrounded the back of his house.  A deep and dark, resonating and ominous feeling began to build in him. Despite all that, Saburo ventured into the forest with his brain clouded over and the inability to properly focus. 

  He continued walking for what felt like hours following a trail that had almost completely faded with blood splatters coming few and far between. He never stopped walking though. He continued to walk in the direction that the trail had lead even when it had completely disappeared. He wasn't even paying attention to the trail anymore. Walking in a somewhat straight line he only moved when there was a tree in his way before continuing mindlessly on his way.  Saburo mindlessly followed this trail.  He trudged right into a crop field in the way of a ploughing cow and nearly got run over.  Fortunately, for him, the farmer controlling the cow and plough was able to stop it in time. The farmer had ran out from behind the cow to berate poor young Saburo for being so inattentive and stupid. 

     "You stupid man!", he had called "I told you to get out of the way over and over again. You trampled our soil and unearthed the vegetables. How dare yo..".  He paused as Saburo walked past him.  Saburo hadn't heard a word.  He hadn't even noticed the farmer. He just kept walking.

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     Saburo ended up coming to his senses a couple of days after, not knowing where he was and how he had got there. He made his way back to his blood spattered house.  For the next few days, he behaved as if his wife was alive. He would talk to house plants and even the walls as if they were his lover and even brought a potted plant to bed once. He was living in denial, a fact that he still felt shame for now, many years later.  After acting like this for around five days he gave up and abandoned the house. It held too many memories, both good and bad and he couldn't handle being there any longer. He never looked back.

     He had been on the road for around a month when he had come to Sumiyoshi village. It was quaint and petite and not at all like the life he had envisioned before, but he was willing to call it home and set down some roots. He managed to collect enough scraps to build himself his own house around a quarter way up the mountain. The work helped him to take his mind off of what he had left behind.

     Years later he had been working for a local farmer.  He tended to keep to himself, mindlessly listening as the other workers used to tell stories to pass the time.  When he began to hear stories of man eating demons lurking around forests and killing humans for food, a chill began to run up his spine. He remembered calling out to the man telling the tale wanting to know more.  He asked quietly, if these demons were capable of attacking an unprotected woman in their home.

     "Yes, of course." the man had replied matter of factly, "Demons will attack and kill any unsuspecting human, to feast on their flesh and pick their teeth with their victim's bones."

     Saburo's old boss and the owner of the farm had laughed at the story, passing it off as old wives' tales to scare children. He recalled being so enraged that he attacked the man and pummelled him into the ground. Needless to say, he was not able to work there again.

     The story had become his obsession for years after. He'd searched what felt like millions of villages looking for "onis" or stories about them.  He suffered through being called "crazy" or being thought of as a "madman". Many years later he  stumbled across a book that depicted devil-like creatures and men with swords that seemed to glisten in the sunlight attacking them from all sides. There had been no true name written down in the story about these heroes, but as he looked at the illustrations of dragon-like creatures made of fire or water he resolved that these people were great and powerful.  He believed that they would be able to exterminate demons for good with their powerful spirits, thus bringing forth his name for them: Spirit Hunters. 

     Lost in thought of past memories, Saburo was stirred out of his recollections by the sound of Hanako lightly coughing and choking as her throat had gone dry. Saburo remembered once again being called crazy or stupid for believing in demons. He remembered having no one to tell him that it was okay to be afraid or sad. Now things had changed. There was someone in a similar situation to his, but much younger who needed someone as well. He, at that moment decided to be that person. Hugging the choking Hanako he felt her body shake with coughs and patted her on the back muttering "Cough it out. It's alright."

     "Will the pain ever go away?" Hanako asked, somewhat desperately.

     "No, I don't think it ever does completely," he responded. "But it gets easier to bear with someone to help you bear it." 

     "Thank you." was Hanako's soft spoken reply before feeling herself drift off to sleep once again. Lifting her up gently, he laid her down on the bed and placed the covers over her shivering body. 

     "Goodnight" he whispered, before exiting the bedroom with one of the spare blankets. He lay   down on the living room floor, feeling contentment for the first time in as long as he could remember. He was no longer alone.