(Warning: Short story contains gore with detail. After reading endless urban legends of Japan, I got really inspired to do this... Enjoy..~ -Author)
It was going to be a regret. Without a doubt. Struggling to keep a firm grip the gun itself, a soft rattle emitted faintly from it from her hands and fingers shaking. He was so sweet... But now she had nothing to worry about and nothing could stop her. Well... Police finding his blood on the wall and floor down there, and testing it would put her in excecution for sure. And remembering this incident was going to give her that disgustingly beautiful, infamous feeling. Seeing that gorgeous, gentle yet deep crimson on repeat.
He turned out to be a short story. Young and blossoming fourteen just like her... And it was his fate in her hands. ... She needed a way to cover it. Goddammit. O negative blood type would be found and they wouldn't understand why this was done. They'd make her angry with their oblivious nature. She thought to herself as if in a trance, thinking over and over, 'They won't even put me through a trial in court. I'd be such a sicko they'd kill me on the spot. They won't even put me throught a tri...' And so on.
Her hand that wasn't with a gun, stay fixed in the boy's brown bangs that used to cover his face so delicately. His eyes were already lifeless seeming, and his mouth gape a bit as he was dragged painfully slow. Her long hair that was nearly ebony and brown convered his face a bit. She was on the fourtieth stairway's steps, a soft tapping from her little 'Mary Jane' shoes was heard quietly... And a slow constant thumping of a dead body. One trait that didn't strike her as surprising though, just one: was that her eyes were just as dead and cold as Kobata's. Dark, gloomy. She smirked, as her thoughts shut themselves out from her head.
"Kobataaa... Kobataaaaaa.... Ko... bata..." She started with a hushed voice when saying his name, it sounded like a much younger girl. But it ended like a soft old woman's, remembering that she was a widow. It echoed a few floors down. Sad and low. As she came to the top step of the level floor, she looked up from where her gaze was originally, the steps. The moon was gorgeous. Reflecting the suns rays down through to her city. And it was perfectly shining through the fourty-first stairway window that was almost the size of the wall. This last particular window had a reputation for numerous people crashing and falling through it for a guaranteed suicide. Without fail.
Her smirk softened into a graceful smile much of a toddler being polite, and her eyes were doing something similar. They gleamed gently while the moon was gleaming greater. But... Why did something tweak her heart in the silence, like the buzzing of a little fly in a study hall?
The moon... Farther than Earth, still managing to slightly blind humans even with incredible distance.... Bothered her. It was... Too still. Too quiet like someone sleeping to death. It was...
Mocking her.
Mocking her sanity and how low it was, mocking her actions and how careful she was not to wake sweet, sweet Kobata while he dreamed his last dream, mocking her face when she said goodbye to that beautiful innocent face that got shot dead on the bridge of the nose, mocking her flinch to her finger pressing the trigger, mocking her and her life choices and thoughts!!
Mocking her... Her and what she had done. Her hand holding cold metal rose, pointed where she assumed there was a crator on the smaller white rock, and aimed even better. This time there was no second thought. She pulled it, and it broke the window and flew straight ahead to the moon like a hope and dream. She sighed as a woman below screamed into the air all around. Her right foot went ahead and she continued on while her expression showed clear dissapointment.
She went up another flight, to the last floor. Fourty-second. "Magical number fourty-two.." She whispered under her breath. Halfway up a few steps, seeing the door edging her view, with just walls around it and no windows. The glow from the moon below lighted up where she was- she giggled darkly. The door was small, not much taller than her or the two-inch taller Kobata. She placed the small gun on the floor carefully so none would hear, and she dragged closer foward the once-alive Kobata.
Her hand reached for the worn-out bronze doorknob. She turned it and brought him up, preparing to toss him in what lay behind the thick wood. It creaked open with a 'Miroka......' she answered. "Yes..."
The door flung open and a porcelain doll face lay on the floor, looking as if a mask. It laughed softly without one movement. "Feed?" She nodded as her eyes stare at it. "Oh, how delightful..!" She tugged his hair and spoke almost silently. "Masuka Kobata is right here... Like I promised.." The face that was as white as snow open its red-lipped mouth slowly like a demon taking control was opening it, teeth showing. It made an inward air sucking tunnel, the body getting thrown forward in front of her. She gasped a final farewell as tears left her face into the portal of air, hands still holding his hair.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! GIVE IT LIKE YOU SAID YOU WOULD!!" She frowned and pulled back, Kobata in the middle of pulling between two forces. "LET GO!!" She then lost all grip to the ground, him and her getting swallowed by the mask and the door slamming. All was silent. Not a trace was left of her or him from where he was killed.
To this day the case of Masuka Kobata and Yamada Miroka dissapearing has been unsolved. A two-month long investigation was done. Nothing led to where they were or where they went. Today, residents have been restricted to enter the fourty-second floor of the apartment building. The window on the floor below it has also been proofed permanently so nothing can break it. Some resident to the first floor can hear screaming of a young teen girl all the way up there, but none have said a word outside the building to authority. Some say when they are headed to the staircase near the floors they hear a young boy, laughter of a genderless elder being, or gunshots too. No one knows who the girl in the building was but knew Kobata was a son of the woman on the sixteenth floor. She never let him go any higher than their floor. No one knows what happened, and none speak of it.
