The nonchalant buzzing of cicadas was filling up the air and the sky above.
I really loved this lazy summer noon, when the air, sky and the atmosphere were drenched with a certain kind of laziness. I had always hoped to turn the quality of my life into an all-engulfing peace of bright Sunday noon. A life showered with the cosiness of breezy summer days.
It was quite an unconventional dream for a young high-school boy, especially in the competitive modern society, where I should have been aiming high for a good career (at least that was what my sister usually dreamed of). But I was just planning to live life without much hassle. That was my dream.
Still, on that particular Sunday, there was a restlessness somewhere deep inside me. My father had told us in the morning that we were moving to the new house soon. It was quite shocking and surprising to us when we came to know that Takeshima grandpa had willed his home to father.
Takeshima was a long-distance relative of my father. He was ninety-seven years of age and used to be quite infamous among our relatives for his ill-temper and aggressive attitude. He never liked people visiting him, except my father, who occasionally took care of him. Takeshima used to live alone in his huge house and obviously, living alone has its perks and cons. On the eve of last Christmas, he went to bed, and later in the afternoon of the Christmas day when his only friend checked on him, he was still found to be asleep, except for the fact that he had gone to sleep forever.
Even though he was quite infamous among the family, and except my father, nobody was in good relations with him. Still, at his funeral, a bunch of relatives showed up, including some of the long-distance family members, his sworn enemies and also those whom he used to utterly detest, and despite having the mutual hatred towards grandfather Takeshima, it didn't stop them to claim the inheritance (or at least part of it).
As grandfather didn't have a proper successor, it was quite obvious that he hadn’t made a will, and also to consider the fact that grandfather had a considerable amount of property which could easily ascend him to the throne of a local Lord. Not in bank balance, but his real wealth was his estate. Or to be more precise, all he had was his home, but a home like no other.
His total housing premise was a Narnia of its own. It included acres of land, covered with forest. Towering trees stood on the land like some ancient guards. At some places, the forest was so dense that even sunlight couldn’t pass through. Patches of bamboo groves also existed every here and there. When the breeze blew, the bamboos would hit against each other, and make it sound like some dojo where the students are learning sword-fighting. My father would often find Takeshima grandpa taking naps under those bamboo groves in humid summer afternoons.
Various water bodies could be found throughout the land like puddles of water. But the biggest of them was in the north, surrounded by jungle and hills. At the farthest west of the land, existed a very old shrine, resting upon a small hill. A number of stone steps had led to the shrine which nestled in greenery. In the evening, the bells would chime, and the ringing would echo through the vast land along with the cries of birds who would be returning to their nests.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
But most ancient of all these things was Takeshima’s own house. It used to be a stronghold for some Lords of royal lineage in the ancient days. It was located at the farthest south, at the edge of the boundary of the vast land. Now very little of the structure had remained. The age of the structure was unknown. Some say it was made eight hundred years ago, while others say that the original structure dates back to the dark ages.
All these were heard from my father. We didn’t have a memory of visiting that place. For some unknown reason, it was only our father who was dear to him. The rest of the family was treated with as annoyance as he treated others.
I remembered the day we went to his funeral. It was kind of amazing how so many people had shown up at his funeral. Perhaps many of them hadn’t even met him when he had been alive. All with the lust to devour the things he had left. It is a kind of irony that people become more worthy after they die. And perhaps grandfather Takeshima was well aware of this. That was why the funeral was held far away from his place.
So the funeral which was supposed to consist of a peaceful atmosphere to mourn, ironically, was heating up with eruption of chaos. I, with my elder-sister and parents, was sitting at a corner, being utterly confused about what to do
Then this strange looking person silently stepped into the room. By his appearance, he looked different from everyone else gathered in the room. He was not wearing a mourner's dress, but an elegant suit, with a dominating aura of grandeur enveloping him. He had a slim and tall figure with a glossy spectacle over his steep nose. A very serious expression hung upon his face. The set of eyes he had, seemed so sharp that it could even penetrate through your soul, and his hair was gently back brushed with an excessive amount of hair gel that it reflected the light.
He entirely ignored the fighting crowd, and swiftly passed through them like a fish slips through the water. Holding his briefcase in front of him like the nose of an aeroplane, he stepped on the podium, upon which the portrait of late Takeshima grandpa was resting. The elderly priest who had been confused enough with the entire ruckus, seemed to become more confused with this sudden intrusion.
But the person simply ignored him. His attitude was exuding the fact that he only meant business, and nothing else. He brushed his gelled hair with his fingers and put the briefcase on the floor. With smooth and intricate finger movements, he unlocked his briefcase latches, taking out a bunch of papers.
My attention was by then, had completely focused on this strange man, and while everyone was fixed upon the inter-family wrestling match, it felt like only I was able to notice what was going on with this man. It felt like he was preparing something devastating like he was just going to set fire on a dump of gunpowder.
Then suddenly, like he was able to read my thoughts, he stared at me, a straight piercing stare, like he was going to cut me up inside out with just a single look. Then his lips parted slightly, revealing a set of shining teeth. A grin appeared on his long, sleek face, a very creepy grin.
I didn't know what was strange in a simple grin like that. But somehow it was peculiar and highly abnormal. I couldn't figure out why. But then, I noticed his teeth as white as pearl. Glistening in the light like those had just been polished, and the shape...
Those weren't blunt like humans’. The teeth in his mouth were long and sharp enough to be identified as fangs. A shiver went through my spine.