Board Thread:Tokyo Arc's/@comment-27973212-20160711014945/@comment-5595007-20160717074727

  ''Ring. Ring. Ring.'' A light emanates from an empty drawer in an empty desk sitting in an empty office. The light peeks out of the cracks in the drawer, illuminating the office walls, barren and white. ''Vrrr. Vrrrr.'' It rings, it’s vibrations echoing unhindered through the abandoned office. No one answers. No one ever does. Silence. The room dies. Darkness once again fills it, a familiar companion to the silence. This was it’s natural state after all, empty, dark, silent. A series of traits that reflect those of its inhabitant.

 This office belongs to Investigator Akumu. Referred to as the Ghost. When it came to the Commission of Counter Ghoul, he had earned the name due to his frequent absences and being notoriously hard to reach. To see him in his office was a rare sight, to see him answer his phone? A miracle. Due to this, Commissioner Takamori has prescribed the investigator a weekly allowance of three mandatory burner phones, which he is meant to carry on his person at all times. However, phones, much like the Ghost himself, can be elusive, and often forgotten.  So it is that once more a light emanates from an empty drawer, it’s vibrations again echo off the walls, until silence and darkness once again prevail, and the room dies. This was the first of the three, brought to life by the Commissioner, abandoned by the Ghost, ignored by the Investigators. It goes on for an hour, calling out into nothing, until finally it rests, silent.  The second phone sits in shambles. Its fractured screen tries to light, but the light grows dimmer with each second. It’s shattered core tries to vibrate, but it cannot find the strength to move. Its broken body lay in pieces on the street. The black pavement still hot from the day's sun. It’s ringer desperately tries to call out, but emits only a low hum. Slowly, its hum is drowned out by red. A dark red, warm and thick, which pools around it, slowly rising, until finally it engulfs the phone entirely. Blood. The blood of a victim whose situation lay parallel to that of the phone’s. The phone had been shattered through combat, and like the victim next to it, it clinged to it’s life, but the light only grows dimmer with each passing second, and like all things, it falls to black.  ''Vrr. Vrrr. VRRR.'' A vibration, though not one of a phone. “AAAAAAH!” A scream, followed by the murmured whimpering of a man trying to cry. ''Vrr. VRRR. VRRRR.'' This vibration, it didn’t belong to a phone at all, it belonged to a surgical saw. A saw, which was deeply embedded into the flesh of a man. '“I’ll kill you! I’ll fuc-” '''VRRRRRR. “AAAAAAAAAAH!”'' No. Not a man. A ghoul. A ghoul whose lungs were drowning in their own blood. That would shut it up, though it didn’t stop it from crying. This ghoul was  strapped to a chair, its achilles tendons and the tendons in its wrists severed. Surgical clamps held the wounds open, preventing it from healing, and therefore preventing it from moving. Its chest cavity was pried open by clamps, exposing all of its organs. Still, the ghoul lived, as ghouls tend to do. ''VRRRRR. ''The saw shreds through the outer organs, making it’s way towards the ghoul’s stomach. The ghoul cries in pain, its screams only gurgling up blood. It prays for the torture to stop, and to its surprise, the torture does.   ''Vrr. Vrr. Vrr. ''It cringes, awaiting the pain of the saw, but the saw blade remains dead, and the vibrating continues. A phone bursts with light, vibrating hard against the surgical tray at the ghoul’s side. The screen’s light reflects off the face of the torturer, special investigator Yanagi Akumu. '“Excuse me. I’ve got to take this.” '  Yanagi slides back a few feet, leaving the surgical saw lodged in the ghoul’s abdomen, and wipes his bloodied hands on the ghoul’s  jacket. Taking his time in this endeavour, he answers the phone on the last ring, and presses it between his shoulder and ear. With his now free hands, he grabs from the surgical tray a Hamburger, and begins unwrapping it.  “Yo.”   He takes a rather large bite from his hamburger, and removes a scalpel from the tray with his remaining hand. The Ghoul gags in response to the putrid smell of the burger, and its eyes widen at the sight of the scalpel. Panicked, it looks on at Yanagi, whose face always holds a seemingly neutral expression. ' “What do you mean yo?! YO???!?!?!” '  A female’s voice rings out from the phone, a forced sternness in her tone. It was an unbridled rage compacted into a hushed whisper. Yet it rang loud into Yanagi’s ear. Ah, so it was Commissioner Takamori. That figures, no one else usually bothers to call him. He takes another bite, and begins surgically severing the digestive tract of the ghoul’s lower stomach.  “...What’s up?”   The Stomach now lay completely exposed, connected to the ghoul’s body only through the esophagus. He takes a staple gun, and staples the lower tubes of the stomach shut after tying them. <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt">' “….What’s up?!?! I’ll tell you what’s up! I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for HOURS now!! I required your immediate assistance HOURS ago!!” ' <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt"> After removing the digestive tract and sealing the stomach, Yanagi reaches for a thick plastic tube. He takes another bite of his hamburger as he forcefully inserts the tube down the ghoul’s throat. He takes a syringe, and pumps out the excess blood, creating a clear pathway through the tube. Finally, he grabs from the tray a gallon of brown sludge, a mixture of various foods blended into a paste, and pours it down the tube and into the ghoul’s stomach. <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt"> “I’ve uh…”  <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt"> With nowhere to ghoul, the sludge fills the ghoul’s stomach, stretching it to it’s maximum limits. Almost instantly vomit projects from the ghoul’s mouth. First the brown sludge, then something much more grotesque. Yanagi watches, eating his burger, as chunks of flesh erupt from the ghoul’s throat. Slabs of meat become full limbs. The Ghoul tries to scream in pain but its voice only comes out as a series of sick gargles. <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt"> “I’ve been busy.”  <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt"> He looks down at the stomach contents spewed across the floor, his eyes coming upon what he was looking for. <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt">' “What in the world could have been more—..You know what. Never mind. I don’t want to know. I need you here, Now. , It’s an undercover operation and I am solo with a civilian ghoul agent aiding in the infiltration. I’m not sure how far along or dangerous it goes but the compound is filled with them with promises of ‘a show’. Attire is evening wear,elegant. Your mask will be outside near a planter in the front of the establishment as well as your invitation.” ' <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt"> He leans over, picking up a severed arm, unusually small. It’s hand was still attached, it’s nails painted pink. The severed arm of a little girl. Rei Satomi. Nine years old. Filed as a missing person last month. Her body was found three days ago, it had been devoured. She had been devoured. Her captor unfound. Until now. Yanagi’s eyes locked with the ghouls. The investigator’s eyes seemed dead, as they always did. Cold, unfeeling. The Ghoul’s eyes however, widened. Yanagi took the final bite of his meal. <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt"> “..Ok.”  <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt"> “..ASAP.”  <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt"> ''Click. ''The phone call ends. Yanagi lets the phone drop to the floor. He rises from his seat, as he stands the phone crushes beneath him. No more interruptions.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt"> A moment later a flame illuminates Yanagi’s face. It is the small fire of a match, lighting the paper of a hand-rolled cigarette. The small light it has to offer is shaken away, and the night air rushes in. The Ghost stands beneath a street light, flickering in the night. He is outside now, the ghoul’s screams of pain could still be heard from the warehouse behind him. They would be heard for the rest of the night, accented by the gentle humming of a saw left unsupervised.

The scene of shades is interrupted by a flash of color, as the yellow of a city cab pulls up. It comes in silently, and the investigator steps inside. Silently it pulls away, and the city street is left silent, and in darkness. No trace of the investigator, no witnesses, no record, only screams of pain and buzzing of saws, muffled by the walls that bind them. Another victim to the Ghost.