Spirited Away II: Return to the Spirit Realm

Chapter 26

No-Face awoke to darkness and coldness. A bolt of pain shot up his arms and legs, and for a moment he stood there, unmoving with his teeth grinding. Then he realized that he was enchained to a cold, damp wall, and he wouldn't have been able to move even if he tried to with all his monstrous strength. The chains were made out of some strange metal, stronger than steel or iron or anything he'd ever see before, and they momentarily lit up with a greenish hue whenever he budged. There was a strange tinkling in his wrists when the chains lit up, similar to a wee dose of electricity, and it was then under that eerie illumination he was able to get a glimpse of his surroundings.

It looked like a cross between a cave and a prison cell. The stony walls were covered with grains of dirt and dust, insects swarmed on the filthy floor, and there was a decaying stink in the air that made No-Face's insides flip. He pursued his mouth against the familiar wave of nausea as the chains turned dark, leaving him blinded once again.

Trying to get used to the little bit of light was a total waste of time, and No-Face found himself so utterly exhausted that he couldn't move the heavy chains the tiniest bit. His knees buckled as if he was carrying a great elephant on his shoulders. His vision turned blurry, as if he was in the middle of some black mist, and his head rolled over to his shoulder. Sleep was nipping at the corners of his mind when astonishingly loud footsteps jerked him awake, and presently somebody stepped inside from a doorway he didn't notice before.

Then, as if a million bulbs were lit at once, the dirty room dazed with a brilliant light, and No-Face instinctively ducked his head at the searing pain in his eyes.

"Ah, that's better," the spirit who entered stated casually. No-Face felt his stomach churn again at the sound of the Dark Spirit's voice.

"Ah," he moaned feebly.

The Dark Spirit was every bit as terrifying and powerful as he was yesterday, at Zeniba's cottage. Those bellicose red eyes glared at him with every ounce of mockery and belligerence as they did before; and despite the hellish ugliness it had a sacrosanct aura, almost as if it was some potentate who ruled with harsh justice and was to be avoided.

It smiled, with its lips curling upward to reveal sinisterly glinting fags. "Didn't I tell you your real identity last night? You're not some pariah favored by kismet, as you initially thought. Your entire life and existence was a plan - a test."

No-Face was unusually quiet as he felt every remaining ounce of his strength suck out of his body. Arguments and questions flourished in his head before vanishing altogether, leaving him hanging there helplessly.

"Your family, whom I've spoken of, is in grave danger," it continued ominously. "In fact, she is someone you know very well. She saved you."

No-Face felt those words light up a weak flame of energy, and he raised his head in silent question.

"She's a brown-haired human."

The gears of mind clicked with realization. No-Face's shallow heart pounded.

"And you are her brother."

Suddenly an image vaporized in front of him, and No-Face his own ghastly reflection, richly black skin a shade paler and limbs drooping, enchained to a cave's wall. Then the reflection morphed into a different person, a human-looking young man. The transparent skin hardened and turned white; the mask melted from the head and was replaced by an aristocratic nose, a strong jaw, and a pair of bruised brown eyes; the thin frame expanded and grew into a muscled figure, donned in a loose, dirtied white shirt and a pair of ragged pants. No-Face looked down at his arms and saw that they were fleshy and white, like the arms of a human.