Demon Hunters: Book 1 Faith [editing]

Chapter 41

Akuma, A Japanese devil with flame in its eyes and a fiery sword. Immortal. Dark creature of the underworld come to Earth to terrorize humanity.

Mr. Osaka called his captor Akuma the first time it/he revealed his true form, dark wings and a sword that burns like a bonfire. The demon wasn't amused by the reference.

And, yet, this monster cooked some of the best Japanese food that Osaka had since moving to the United States about ten years ago.

And, this creature spoke such fluent Japanese.

And, the beast apparently was a chess grandmaster. Osaka certainly knew how to play chess, and play it well. Yet, Ren's skills were far beyond his. Osaka simply marveled at each of his defeats.

Osaka found Ren utterly confusing. This fallen angel wasn't mean-spirited. In fact, he frequently apologized for taking over Osaka's life and promised to leave in a matter of days.

Sometimes, especially at night when he thought Osaka asleep, he'd sit down at the desk and bury his face into his hands, shoulders downtrodden as if mourning.

And, quite often, also at night, Ren wrote letters to someone. He'd write a few sentences, scratch them out and rewrite. When he finally finished the draft, he would copy the letter on a clean sheet of paper and fold it over. Osaka never saw what Ren wrote, but once he noted what looked like a Z written over the note.

Ren spent much of his time down here in the basement bedroom, which in itself had been odd. Most captors didn't spend so much time talking with their victims. For example, last Saturday night he returned with another sword, this one with a dark blade.

Ren sat at the desk chair and switched on the lamp.

Osaka sat up in bed. "Aye," he greeted.

Ren held up the sword for his inspection. "Samurai?"

Osaka eyes it for a few minutes. "Yes, very old."

Ren placed the sword on the desk and leaned back. He said, "Old, indeed. In fact, I remember Edo at this time." That was the old name for Tokyo.

"You visited Japan?" Osaka asked. Of course, he knew that Ren must have lived there long enough to become fluent in Japanese, but he asked anyway. Maybe if the beast liked him, Osaka wouldn't be killed him. He would not let me live. Demons do not keep their word.

Ren gazed upwards, as if reliving a scene in his mind. "I lived in Japan for about a hundred and thirty years during the civil wars." By now, Osaka merely accepted these fantastical statements about Ren's age.

"Civil wars?"

Ren nodded. "Yes, in the 1400s. Warlords and clans fought each other for regional power." Osaka knew the history well. This had been the age of the Samurai. This sword was made from this era. Ren ran a finger across the side of the sword's blade.

"So, did you fight in the clan wars?" Osaka wondered how skilled Ren really was with the sword. Could he be defeated in a sword fight? Though it had been years, Osaka Riku trained in Japanese martial arts and specialized in fencing. He had been in the military for nearly ten years.

"Who didn't?" Ren paused. "I traveled mostly through the countryside and joined the mercenaries. We fought the powerful landlords and militia groups and warrior clans."

"I thought you said you never killed a human." Of course, he had. Demons lie.

When Ren laughed, Osaka's heart fell. He wanted to believe that he did have a chance at survival. "You remember well." He lifted up the sword and glided it through the air. "Never killed a man, but left quite a lot of them with a missing limb."