"Is this a scam?" The young girl said between her breaths, running with one hand covering her bloodied head.
"What are you talking about? Didn't you see that thing?" I yelled, limping while dragging her dainty soft hand along with a grip that would nearly dislocate her joint.
We ran from alley to alley, turning left and right whenever an intersection or a fork presented itself, trying not to turn the same direction more than twice so we wouldn't run in circles and could get as far away from that thing as possible—the thing that had fallen from the sky.
I'd arranged to meet the girl at a park not far from where my parents lived. After I got off the taxi, I limped my way past the rusty fence of the motorcycle parking area and headed for the small pond behind the dried-up weepy willow that looked like a granny who was balding fast. The place reeked of garbage and the whole pond was caked with a thick green layer of algae.
From a distance, the girl was already waiting under the tree. She was kicking the stump to pass the time.
Up to this point, I had no idea how I was going to ask her about it. I'd lied to her, saying how I was a painter and I wanted her to be my model, that I would pay a fair amount if she could just let me do a simple portrait in three minutes. If I'd said three hours it wouldn't have been impressive enough for her to say yes.
So much for all that talk about never calling her again.
She looked at me with a blank expression as she continued to kick the stump of the tree. I slowly limped in her direction.
What am I supposed to say to her now?
The truth is that I have this rare condition that causes my skin to rot, and the only cure is a very specific type of growth hormone that can be extracted from the urine of teenagers? I'm asking you because all of my relatives are either dead or in their fifties without children; I'd get nothing from drinking their urine.
Did you place a curse on me? Like she would ever admit to it if she were the culprit.
Are you related to a mythical creature, by any chance? Have you ever heard of this thing called Kitsune, or some kind of fox demon?
All kinds of questions flitted through my head as I staggered towards the girl.
"Took you long enough. I have errands to run."
Apparently, the tattoo on her neck was real, because she still had it.
"By the way," she said, "what kind of portrait can be done in three minutes? Are you painting in grayscale or something?"
"Please let me have your urine."
"Excuse me?"
That facial expression.
She wasn't looking at a human being. What she saw was rotten garbage.
How did it get so bad?
"Okay... I'm sorry to tell you this, but the real reason why I asked you to come out here is because it's about something I cannot really say on the phone. You see, since the day I met you, I—"
"No."
"Let me finish. I have this condition, you see—"
That was when it came to us.
Before I could finish, I had to push her to the side. A giant figure came down from the weeping willow and fell straight on her head—or rather, it was aiming one of its pointy limbs at her head.
The girl fell on the sand and marble. I looked in the direction of the figure. It was taller than both of us combined. On the upper half, I could see a young, bespectacled man in a white shirt. What was under its shirt was hard to describe—in some parts, it looked like the torso of a giant cockroach, fluttering its red wings. In others, its lower half resembled a spider.
The moment I got my hands on the ground to prop myself up, it was already straddling the girl while one of its hairy appendages was high in the air. The tips were very sharp. The girl turned her head in time. The leg went under the ground with a dull thud, sending sand splattering against the tree. I knew I couldn't get up quick enough, so I grabbed a large piece of rock nearby and hurled it at the human head.
It staggered back, giving the young girl the chance to get up and run to me. I grabbed her arm and staggered in the opposite direction, the girl barely being able to keep up despite my messed-up leg.
I didn't look behind.
And I limped with all the strength I had. The glaring afternoon sun cast a long shadow in front of us. The pangs in my left foot felt like an invisible needle that were lodged deeper in my flesh with every step.
Slowly, steadily, the two elongated shadows under our feet were submerged by a larger form; a sphere the size of a building was coming toward us. For some reason, the chasing shadow did not portray the human figure on top of that thing.
If only my leg hadn't been in such a bad shape. If only this had all been a dream. If only someone would pull me out of my bed and wake me up.
Eventually, the tidal crash of that shadow swallowed us whole.
It continued to extend further in front of us, engulfing the whole park in black.
I could almost hear the clacks of its appendages against the bricks, right behind my scalp.
I could feel the heat emanating from its giant body.
As I limped ahead, I waited for something to puncture my body, pierce through my head, waited for my consciousness to fade.
But then, the clacks suddenly slowed down, and we were able to gain distance from the thing again.
Little by little, we were getting closer to the summit of the mountainous shadow under our feet, and eventually surpassed it, once again stepping onto the dim orange hue of sunlight.
The monster stopped chasing, and we got away.
We ran for a very long time.