Stories From Tokyo-To

Chapter 13: A Boy and the Traitor!

It was windy atop Benten-Cho's business tower. I got some sideway looks from the visitors with me.

"Hey, you on the rollerblades." I turned to see a security guard. It seemed like he was on patrol. I wasn't too concerned on getting caught since the rail connected to the tower would spiral me down to the streets below. I sighed and gave a "Yeah?"

"You're not planning on doing anything stupid, right?"

"Nah man, I'm just chillin' here."

"Do you have any spray cans on you? If you're one of those trouble-causing street thugs, I can't have you on property."

I emptied my pockets and shook my legs to satisfy the guards' suspicions. He seemed at ease until he saw what I held in my hands.

"Where'd you get those batteries? Did you steal-"

"Nah, bro." I flashed a lengthy receipt. "I bought these with my own money. Proof is on tha paper." He scoffed and walked the other direction.

"Damn kids, with their stupid slang, no respect at all..."

I prematurely bought the batteries for Benisu. Just on the off-hand chance he wins, if not, then I got a spare for whenever my current batteries crap out on me. Speaking of which, it's been around 10 minutes since our meet up time. I wouldn't doubt him being late since Benten is a pretty busy place. If he ran into some Noise Tanks, he'd be more than capable to take them head on. So what's the hold up? I looked down at my phone, "6:15 PM". Damn, either he's lost, or...

Bzzz Bzzz!

A text? From Slate? What the hell could he possibly want now?

"Leaving Benten from buying parts from NT's. Heard them say something going down in the subway system. If you're in the area, steer clear, homie. Stay safe."

The subway system? Oh fuck, no. That's where the finish line was. There's no way this kid got himself killed! I shoved the batteries back into my pocket and threw myself onto the rail, darting my way to the nightlife filled street. People yelled and hollered when I shoved them out of the way. My mind was fried, my thoughts were scattered everywhere. I felt sick to my stomach. The sound of car horns blared in my ears as I crossed into the major motor roundabout in central Benten-Cho.

The first station was dead ahead. I'd figure to use it to get directly to the next stop. I slid down the handrails and burtsted through the turnstiles, security didn't even have time to react. Jumping off the platform and onto the rail, I frantically skated my way to my destination. To my friend. The closer and closer I got, the dimmer the lights began to fade out. These tunnels are never dark. The air got cold as whispers echoed throughout the walls. I stopped and almost ate dirt while doing so. Something wasn't right. That feeling came back: dread. The whispers revved into primal like chants, the tunnels illuminated like that of an inferno. The sight was too much, the voices came closer and my heart pounded out of my chest. I backed up against a wall and turned to see a blood red liquid drip down the surface. I looked down at my hand, coated in this crimson substance.

"Oh my god."

Screams erupted. I felt like I was having a heart attack. In red spray paint, staring me right in my face, a tag. "Poison Jam". I hardly had time to react before I was surrounded by them. A group of about ten burly Rudies circled me, chanting "Uragirimono" over and over again, "Traitor."

They wore tattered work uniforms, overalls and everything. Their skates fashioned to look like those of a blue skinned reptile. The same treatment went for their gloves and mask. They were adorned in scales and spikes, a real ferocious look. This was made more fearsome by their violent and short fuse attitude, a strength from being too stupid to think for themselves.