The Damned Storyteller

Chapter 2: Early Mornings


“Meizuo! Hurry up!”
Tokyo has never been busier than before. With the season of winter coming to an end, people of all ages rejoice to experience another change of period.
“I’m coming!”
The streets of the metropolitan were filled with cars and noises that seemed to have no end. Children crossed the roads led by their guardians and high school students prepare themselves as they enter school again after their long vacations.
“I told you to wear your old pants—why do you have to wear those?” the boy with dark brown hair rolled his eyes heavenward and criticized his friend who was trying to catch his breath,
“Papa gave this to me. What’s your problem, Itori?” the other one with white sandy hair replied annoyingly, raising a brow.
“I don’t wanna be late for our first class.”
“Well neither do I.”
“I don’t think so!”
Meizuo beamed at his friend and pushed him away to run as fast as he can.
Itori chuckled as he raced with Meizuo across the streets.

And so on they went in the urbanized areas of Tokyo. Leaping on steel fences to take the shorter route to their school, they astounded a few people who walked by with their remarkable agility.
They then barged inside a movie house and caught the eye of the employees,
“Itori, Meizuo—what time will you boys be coming for work?” an old man who was holding a broomstick asked inquiringly, smiling brightly at the youthful pair.
“Hatori-senpai!” Meizuo exclaimed, “Maybe around six!” he replied, catching up behind Itori,
“Nice to see you, gramps!” Itori teased and jumped five full stairs downwards, so he could be farther sill from his friend,
“Same here, brat!”
The teenagers laughed restlessly at the old man’s reply while they continued racing with one another.
Itori was still ahead of Meizuo when he got out of the back door.
“First one at school gets to pay the rent money this month!” Itori shouted,
“Game on!” Meizuo agreed, his golden eyes ready for the challenge.

“I want the Brewman files on my desk when I get there, Anthony.” A man in a fashionably dark suit closed his New York Times newspaper and slowly got off of a Louis Vuitton chair located inside the lobby Hilton hotel.
He raked his long slender fingers through his raven hair and continued,
“And call that bastard Michigan’s secretary. Tell her I want an answer from that asshole in four hours. If he doesn’t make a move, we’ll gladly put him out of business.”
A bellboy helped him carry his coat and attaché case as they proceeded outside the hotel where a black limousine was waiting for him.
Suddenly, a woman with a riot of curly red mane came out of the limousine, wearing the latest lavender office wear from Channel. Her porcelain skin and red full lips indicated so much of who she was.
“Here’re the Bentel files. I also brought coffee.”
The man paused from his phone upon the sight of the lovely young woman.
“I want everyone inside my office when I get there.” He clipped to his personal secretary while looking at her and put away his phone inside the back pockets of his blazer.
He waited for the bellboy to finish loading his things inside the limousine. He then gave an appropriate tip and nodded curtly for the simple service.
“What are you doing inside my vehicle?” he asked, his brows meeting as he looked at the woman.
“I thought I could stop by and hitch a ride with your chauffeur, that’s all.” she answered, bending her head sideward and imitating a teasing look.


“There is no way I’ll be paying this month’s rent!” Meizuo shouted, inwardly half-pleading to stop this game, and half-interested in continuing it.
“Keep on dreaming, pretty boy!” Itori shouted ahead.
The boys didn’t notice that they passed by a new lane.
They got into the other side of the street where people dressed in formal attire mostly dominated the area.
“Slow down, monkey-ass!” Meizuo ranted,
“Like hell!”

The young girl paused. She took a deep breath before continuing her work.
‘What now?’ She asked herself, \'What should I write after making Meizuo and Itori run after each other? What the hell will I write next about \'the man in the dark suit\'?

She was trying to mock herself, but unsuccessfully able to make her situation comfortable.
She looked across her bed and saw the time on her clock.
It was almost twelve midnight.
‘Could I really finish this in thirty days?’ she added in her thoughts.
She stood from where she was sitting on her bed, carrying her pen and the Book of Fate with her.
She stared at the dark pit above, just right outside her window.
It was strange, indeed. Everything was happening so fast.

Right after meeting the hooded figure, she went directly back in her home to start the story.
What she didn’t understand the most was that even though she was afraid of losing her life, she was still interested with the story.
“I’m getting hungry” she uttered and turned away.


Out of the blue, a white light wrapped around her.

‘What’s happening?!’



“Damnit, Itori! Slow down!” Meizuo cried, already panting under his breath.
“It’s your fault on the first place,” Itori reasoned, “you woke up late and I had to wait on you.”
“But you were the one who insisted we keep on playing PS 2.”
“That’s not an excuse—how come I still woke up early?”
“That’s because you’re not human!”

The young girl opened her eyes and saw herself in the middle of a street. People were walking pass right at her, not even noticing she was there.
When she looked down, she was still holding the Book of Fate in her hands.
Where am I, she asked herself, horrified.

‘The story…the story…the story…’

Someone was continuously whispering in her ears.

She later on realized that it must be the hooded figure who was urging her to continue.

Where am I? She asked in her thoughts, knowing that hooded figure can hear her.

Look ahead, it said.

And so she did.

Two boys suddenly ran right in front of her. The force of wind it created blew her hair towards their direction.
“Oh my God…this can’t be true.”
Her gaze followed the two boys.

And from afar, she could see a back limousine, a woman with red hair and a man in a dark suit.
“Heaven help me…” she whispered.


“Itori! Will we please stop running?” Meizuo asked hoarsely, unable to keep up any further.
“Sure you can, but you’ll have to pay the rent!”
When Itori turned his head back to face north, his eyes widened as he saw a couple standing right in the middle of his way,
“Passing through, people! Passing through!” he shouted repeatedly so he could forewarn the couple.
The man in the dark suit stepped back, and so did the lady.
But as Meizuo tried to catch up with his friend, he bumped at a tall figure at his right side.
Hot coffee spilled all over the man’s suit.
Itori and Meizuo came into a complete halt.
“Jesus!” the man exclaimed, looking down on his newly bought Dolce & Gabbana suit.
“S-Sorry.” Meizuo said, looking at the man.

And then it happened.

Something inside the man’s ebony eyes captured Meizuo’s gaze.

“Meizuo!” in a second, reality came pouring back, “C’mon!”

Meizuo turned around to look at his friend who laughed at him and ran off.
He turned back to look at the man whose forehead formed a deep crease,
“I’m really sorry, mister.” Meizuo gulped down and turned away to follow Itori.

The man never withdrew his gaze from the boy with the silver mane.
“Crazy kids.” The woman whispered, coming closer to the man.
“You need a hanky?” she teased, smiling widely at him.
“No thank you,” the man clipped, finally turning his attention back to the red-head when the boy was out of sight, “I can manage.”