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Chapter 9

Long Nights In The Park

Apricot’s heart raced as she scrutinized the spray-painted crown and pitchfork on the sidewalk. A sense of anticipation mingled with fear washed over her, and she whispered to herself, “Finally.” The tail-end of the pitchfork pointed towards a grungy, dilapidated automobile shop. Above the rusting doorway, the words “Grease Monkey’s” were displayed in large, lifeless halogen tube letters.

As she strolled through the streets, Apricot followed a breadcrumb trail of signs and symbols, her anxiety mounting with each step. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting eerie shadows that seemed to swallow her whole. She ventured into a slew of seedy bars and other suspicious establishments, only to be ejected time and time again. She was sure the police had been alerted to her activities by now.

Leaving the shop with a heavy heart, Apricot couldn’t contain her frustration and muttered, “This is impossible.” Just as she was about to abandon her quest for an illegal firearm, a loud “Psst!” rang out from across the street. Her eyes darted up, and she spotted a middle-aged man in nondescript clothing, beckoning her with a wave. “Here, miss,” he said, gesturing toward a nearby alleyway. “I got what you need, but we don’t do business in plain sight.”

Trepidation gripped Apricot like a vice. This wasn’t what she had expected, but then again, she wasn’t sure what she had anticipated. In this part of town, following a stranger into a shadowy alleyway was a risky endeavor. Despite her reluctance, she forced her feet to carry her forward. The man placed his hand on her back, guiding her down the desolate backstreet, and said, “Yo, kid, you’re looking for the wrong thing.”

In that instant, Apricot’s instincts screamed for her to flee. Her mind was flooded with scenes from movies, where the heroine was kidnapped in a place just like this. Her worst fears were confirmed when several men wielding bats, clubs, and metal poles emerged from a nearby building. Desperate to escape, she tried to back away, only to find that three more men had materialized at the alley’s entrance, blocking her path. The man beside her sneered, “There’s no way out.”

“I don’t want any trouble,” Apricot stammered, her hands raised defensively, her heart pounding in her chest. The prospect of being brutalized and trafficked filled her with terror.

The man spat on the ground as they circled her like a pack of hungry wolves. “Sure, kid. One of my boys said a pretty girl with brown hair was asking around town, looking to buy a gun. That wouldn’t happen to be you, now would it?”

Apricot’s fear was momentarily eclipsed by a rush of exhilaration, and she forced a smile to her lips. “Y-yes, that’s me,” she stammered, her emotions swirling like oil and water.

“Sure, kid,” the man replied, unamused. “Funny thing is, you don’t have a clue what you’re doing, but you still managed to find your way here.” He gestured toward the graffiti. “Who told you?”

“No one,” Apricot replied, her voice barely a whisper.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “See, I have a hard time believing that. You did what the cops do. But your persistence was annoying. I feel like a cop told you this. Not a good cop. Even the cops aren’t as sloppy as you.” A lump formed in her throat as the man nodded. “Heh, well, I guess you don’t want to talk about it.”

“I just want to buy a gun. I need one urgently,” Apricot blurted out, hoping her insistence would convince them of her sincerity. “Please.”

The boss man cocked his head, then glanced over at a young man clutching a black plastic baton, dressed in a red hoodie and a white shirt. “Yeah, you’ll need protection,” he agreed. With a nod from the boss, the young man sprang into action.

As he closed the distance between them, Apricot’s heart thundered in her chest. She backed up, her instincts screaming for her to find a way out. The boss man, however, had other plans. He watched her closely, gauging her reactions and weighing her words. It seemed her desperate plea had struck a chord, and he was considering her request.

Finally, he let out a deep, thoughtful sigh. “Alright, kid. I’ll give you what you want, but you better remember one thing – you owe me. Don’t think you can just walk away without consequences. You play by our rules now.”

Apricot’s heart pounded against her ribcage when she collided with something solid. As she looked up, she found herself staring at a towering bald man who wore a sinister grin. His arms encircled her, lifting her off the ground with ease. Her feet kicked futilely in mid-air, but the men surrounding her only laughed. Just as the hulking man prepared to strike her, a voice rang out from the crowd. “Ji Li, man, this isn’t right! You don’t need to do it that way.”

“Oh yeah, I see. You willing to vouch for her?” Apricot’s eyes darted around, trying to catch a glimpse of her potential savior, but her view was obstructed by the men standing in front of her.

The man hesitated, and Apricot’s mind raced through a myriad of possibilities. Would they just beat her up, or worse, kill her? “Look at her, she’s not one of us. She hasn’t done anything. Just let her go.”

Ji Li snorted. “You gotta vouch for her.”

Who would stand up for her amidst a gang of hardened criminals? A gangster with a heart of gold? A cop? It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that someone might be able to get her out of this nightmare alive. “Please!” Apricot pleaded, her voice cracking. Suddenly, a thump to her stomach forced the air from her lungs, and she doubled over in pain, her vision blurring. The tea she had consumed earlier spewed from her mouth, splattering the young man wielding the baton.

“Why’d you do that?” Ji Li demanded. “Damn, she’s got it all over her. Get her something to clean herself up.” He barked an order at one of the men nearby. “Can’t you see we’re talking? Are your ears broken?”

The young man trembled. “She was disrespectful,” he mumbled.

“You’re disrespectful. Balbo, let the girl down.” Ji Li motioned with his hand, and the burly man gently lowered her to her feet. “You’re making a mess, kid. Get the hell out of here. Walk her out, make sure she’s okay.” The other men dispersed, leaving the area.

As the realization that her circumstances had improved washed over her, Apricot inhaled a shaky breath. The men surrounding her avoided eye contact as they walked away. Another man approached her, offering a rolled-up towel with a half-smile. “Here, clean yourself up with this.”

Gratefully accepting the towel, Apricot wiped her face, but the lingering fear left her feeling weak and lightheaded. When her knees buckled and she nearly stumbled, she whispered a mantra to herself: “Don’t faint.” As the man stepped away, she glimpsed his conflicted expression.

“Shit, what are you thinking?” Ji Li’s gruff voice echoed as he disappeared into the back of the building, leaving Apricot to process the whirlwind of emotions that had overtaken her.

Consequently, Apricot found herself alone in the alley with the other man. He had neatly groomed hair, clearly of Uchellan descent. His slightly androgynous appearance was accentuated by short, spiky mint-green hair that struck her as unusual. Dressed in a red high-collared shirt and black pants, his attire leaned toward the traditional. The shirt’s wide sleeves matched a style that had become popular among certain subcultures. Apricot assumed he was probably part of a nationalist gang. “You okay?” she asked, her voice wavering as she approached him. Her legs trembled, and she struggled to catch her breath.

Despite her unease, she huffed, “I’m fine.” The man accompanied her as they walked several blocks away from the shops. The quiet alleyway seemed like the perfect cover, Apricot mused. “I was looking to buy a pistol.”

“Kid, don’t,” he warned her.

“You don’t understand. My life is in danger. Please help me. I need a gun. I can’t explain it,” Apricot insisted, desperation dripping from her words.

The man straightened up, his eyes piercing. “You’re lucky to be alive, kid. If no one had spoken up for you, you would be dead. But I knew you weren’t working for the cops. They wouldn’t hire someone as conspicuous as you.”

Apricot smirked. “Yeah, because you’re a cop.” His uneasy glance confirmed her suspicion. She repeated, “You’re a cop.”

Annoyed, the man snapped, “Don’t even joke. So, what does a girl like you need a gun for?”

“I’m fighting phantoms,” Apricot said, her face solemn. As a cop, he must have heard about the spooks, maybe even encountered some himself.

His thin lips curved into a grin. “Right, aren’t we all?”

“No,” she countered. “I mean phantoms. Monsters that materialize and vanish just as quickly. The terrorist attacks, pfft, nonsense.” Apricot could see his eyes widen in discomfort. “You know what I mean because you’re a cop.”

“Enough with the cop thing. Anyone would give you a strange look for talking like that. Now get out of here.” He turned his back on her and took a few steps away.

“He won’t walk away. He knows I’m telling the truth,” Apricot assured herself.

As she predicted, the man turned back, sizing her up once more. He pursed his lips and sighed after studying her. “You’re not wrong about those things, though,” he conceded. “Do you know what they are?”

“I haven’t a clue. I know I’d be better off keeping quiet. I worked at Ichigari Grocery. That’s why I need a gun. One of them was in my house the other night, in my little brother’s room. I’m sure it wanted to eat him. A horrifying wolf creature. I killed it with his baseball bat. I wish I could tell you more, but I have to stop them.” The man took a deep breath and reached into his shirt pocket. Finally, Apricot had the object she sought – a gun. As he handed it to her, she gripped the handle, a surge of power and security flooding her senses.

He squinted at the gun, not releasing it just yet. “It’s a .45. That means it uses bullets with .45 caliber points. Don’t get caught with it,” he cautioned, finally letting go of the weapon. “It carries the death penalty.” Shaking his head, he continued, “The serial number has been removed, and the tracking device has been disabled. It should work in areas with signal jammers. It’s the real deal. Even though I’m not sure why I’m doing this, something tells me it’s the right thing to do. Whatever you’re up against, I hope it works.”

With that, he turned away and retraced his steps down the road. Apricot stowed the pistol in her purse and zipped it shut. A smile spread across her face as she gently patted the side of the purse. For the first time in a while, she felt a glimmer of hope, and with the newfound sense of security, she was ready to face the phantoms that haunted her world.

Paranormal Experiences of Eastway Park and the Eastway Monster

“Have you ever found yourself lost at Eastway Park at night? You’re not alone. A startling number of reports claim this small park transforms into an endless labyrinth after dark. So many, in fact, that the city of Blue Ash has banned entry after sunset. We wouldn’t suggest trying it out for yourself, anyway. If you think those reports are strange, what lies inside police records might have you even more on edge.”

“People claim that within the labyrinth, monsters lurk. Strange creatures with various descriptions have been reported, from eerie shadows along the walls to a flying squid-like entity. The only thing we know for sure is that something strange is happening at Eastway Park.”

Apricot hopped off the barricade and peered into the darkness of Eastway Park, determined to test these claims for herself. If this story held any merit, the other accounts might as well. As she walked home, she pondered the possibility that all these “paranormal” occurrences were actually the effects of phantoms. Knowing that they could cause electrical disturbances and temperature fluctuations, it didn’t seem too far-fetched. If that was the case, she would need to investigate the bizarre urban legends around town. The reassuring weight of the gun against her hip bolstered her confidence.

She strolled along the park’s paved path, passing a central fountain before finding herself back at the beginning, unable to locate the alleged “labyrinth.” Rolling her eyes, she ventured toward a small copse of trees, where overgrowth clashed with the park’s manicured landscape. As she meandered through the park, she felt foolish for entertaining this ridiculous notion.

Convinced that she should leave, Apricot prepared to abandon her pursuit when she noticed something she hadn’t seen earlier—a tunnel adorned with enigmatic markings, such as spirals, triangles, and circles. “If there’s a labyrinth, this must be it,” she deduced.

A pungent, nauseating odor reminiscent of rotten meat assaulted her nostrils as she approached the entrance. Gripping the pistol, she cautiously withdrew it from her jeans and assumed a stance she had seen on TV. Surveying the tunnel’s interior, she noted the walls’ faded, peeling paint, which revealed the blackened brick beneath. As she ventured deeper, she spotted red puddles on the floor, although there were no bodies in sight. It certainly looked like blood. Warm droplets splashed on her head, prompting her to glance upward and discover massive, pulsating veins embedded in the ceiling.

Her heart pounded in her chest as the walls appeared to throb in time with her own pulse. A sudden touch on her arm elicited a shriek. She looked down to see a pale hand resting on her forearm, and followed it to meet the cold, dead eyes of its owner—a gaunt woman who stared unblinkingly at Apricot’s face. Laughing nervously, Apricot stammered, “You scared me.” The woman remained silent, but her face inched closer to Apricot’s. An overwhelming sense of danger washed over her, causing her to recoil as if a snarling dog were poised to strike.

“How long have you been here?” Apricot asked the woman, noticing her clothes were from another era entirely. The woman opened her mouth, her face stretching toward Apricot as her tongue snaked out, only to retreat back inside. “Do you understand me?” Apricot asked, her nerves on edge, certain that such behavior couldn’t be human.

The woman’s neck elongated as she strained to lean closer, her arms rigid. Her face split down the middle like dry paper, revealing a skull with a thin layer of skin. Apricot estimated that the woman’s height had grown to at least ten feet as the figure stretched away from her, pulsating muscles becoming visible. The creature’s chest burst open, revealing a shell-like carapace and mantis-like arms. Its brown shell, oddly curved legs, and wriggling thorax added to the horror.

Apricot aimed the gun at the creature and screamed. As she pulled the trigger, her hand flew into the air, pain flooding her wrist. Worst of all, the bullet seemed to have little effect on the monster. Apricot ducked, hearing the blade scrape against the wall as it slashed at her.

Turning and running toward the entrance, she couldn’t see it from where she was—the tunnel seemed endless and dark. The only source of light came from the dull red glow of the veins above her. A strong vibration signaled the creature’s approach. It wasn’t far behind her. As it continued down the tunnel, it hissed at her. Turning around, Apricot fired again at the creature, watching the bullet impact its chest. Sparks flew as the bullet hit and then vanished. “What!” Apricot screamed, certain that this was the end. As she huddled into a ball, screaming, the creature lunged at her.

“That’s not apt to help you,” a male voice remarked. Apricot turned her head to see a young man holding a decorative rod in front of the creature’s scythes.

Stunned, she asked, “Who are you?”

The man pushed back against the creature with his arm. “So you like picking on little girls?” he growled, advancing on the creature, which now screamed a high-pitched roar at him. “Yeah, yeah, you can complain all you like.” As the creature lunged and swung its blade, the man parried the blow, knocking the claw aside. He repeated this several times before striking the creature in the face with the back end of his rod.

In a flash, a large spark erupted from the creature, its skin falling away to reveal the skull beneath. Only a few remnants of its visage remained, oozing out like slime. The creature turned and fled into the distance. “What? Don’t like silver?” the man sneered, hurling the rod at the creature, which collapsed as though electrocuted. Convulsing on the ground, the creature shrieked for a while before the tunnel plunged into darkness and it finally fell silent.

The man retrieved his rod, then turned to Apricot. “Hello, my name is Shiori Kinjo.”

“Kinjo!” Apricot gasped, feeling a shockwave of realization. “He’s royalty!”

Shiori seemed to read her thoughts. “And yes, I am that Shiori, the heir to the Kinjo family nobility. Now tell me, why are you carrying an illegal weapon in these tunnels?” Apricot hesitated, taken aback by his firm tone.

“I’m hunting phantoms,” she murmured.

As Shiori rubbed his chin, he smirked. “How interesting.” He eyed her critically. “However, I’ve never seen anyone hunt a phantom while curled up in a ball like a coward.” Apricot hadn’t realized she was still on the ground, and she sprang to her feet. “For now, I’ll overlook your pistol. But if you plan on using it, you should learn how to use it properly.” Apricot nodded, unsure of what to say.

“It seems you don’t speak much. Star-struck, perhaps?” he teased.

“I almost died,” Apricot replied.

“Get used to it, miss ‘phantom’ hunter,” Shiori said, walking past her toward the end of the tunnel. “Most things aren’t too friendly when you’re trying to kill them.”

“Wait!” Apricot called after him. “Do you know what these creatures are? Why are you here? What’s happening?!”

“I’ll answer just one question. You decide,” Shiori replied smugly. Apricot considered her options, trying to choose the most informative question. “If you’re going to waste my time, I have other places to be. The night isn’t over yet.”

Apricot made a snap decision. “Do you know what these creatures are?”

Shiori resumed walking, a smile playing on his lips. “I do.”

“What! Aren’t you going to tell me?” Apricot shouted after him.

“Not a chance, dear. As I promised, I answered one question,” Shiori laughed. “If you survive, I might reconsider.”

Apricot followed him, exasperated. “You’re a jerk, you know?”

“A jerk that saved your life, my dear. Remember that,” he chuckled. “There is one thing I can give you. The Crisis. Start there.”

Frowning, Apricot asked, “What do you mean by ‘the Crisis’?” This time, he didn’t respond. Instead, he quickened his pace. As they reached the end of the tunnel, Apricot expected Shiori to at least say goodbye, but he didn’t even pause. “You’re such an asshole,” Apricot muttered, her voice dripping with irritation. “But at least I’m not the only one.”

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