When consciousness returns, it finds me a despoiled victim. I lay on my back staring at the ceiling. My face is bathed in tears. I feel violated. Like an important part of me was just ripped away. That part being my sanity namely. I don’t know what time it is. I don’t know what day it is. I don’t know where I am. I only know that I am. Even if what I am is a little bit less.

I hear the sound of hasty footsteps squeaking the floorboards in the hallway. My father flies into the room alarmed. “Fuu!”

He races to me and kneels at my side. “Are you alright?”

“Daddy!” I sob, throwing my arms around his neck.

“It’s alright Fuu,” he says, patting my back. “Daddy’s here.”

His fingers unlace the straps of my kendo chest protector. Having a hard piece of armor over my chest didn’t help me while I was hyperventilating. As soon as he finishes removing the chest protector, he throws it aside and picks me. “How long have you been here Fuu?”

“I don’t know. Since after practice. What time is it?”

“It’s late Fuu. The adult practice ended over two hours ago. I went out to have a drink with the guys, and then I went home. Your mother told me that you never came back from practice, so I came out to search for you. I’m sorry that I didn’t realize where you were sooner.”

“It’s alright daddy. It’s not your fault.”

“Did you have another anxiety attack?”

“Yes.”

“A bad one?”

I nod.

“Alright, well let’s get you home and tuck you into bed.”

Carrying me in his arms, my father turns to the suit of samurai armor and bows. He then carries me out of the dojo and into the night’s sky. The sun wasn’t even setting when I entered the Megumi Kara Tsuyo, and now the stars are out. He said that it’s been over two hours since the adult practice ended, so it must be at least 10 p.m. This is bad news. When it becomes late like this the ghost samurai known as the Loathsome Midnights come out.

Coincidentally, my father unexpectedly stands still with a serious expression on his face. I gauge by his eyes that he’s looking across the street. I turn my head to see whatever he sees. Surely enough, there’s a man standing across the street staring back at us. He wears a straw hat on his head and has a sheathed katana strapped to his waist. More likely than not, he’s a Loathsome Midnight.

My father turns to left and begins walking. The man across the street mirrors him, turning to the right and walking down the street opposite of us. Calmly, my father continues to walk down the street in silence with the same serious look on his face. Two or three times, he glances at the other man out of his peripheral vision. Eerily, the man continues to match my father’s movements. I have the impression that if he were to run, the man would run after us.

Stolen story; please report.

“Fuu,” my father says in a muted voice.

“Yes daddy?”

“Could you walk on your own if need be?”

“I think so.”

“Unnh.”

My father breaks into a sprint. He runs down the street as fast as he can while still carrying me. I watch in horror as the man wearing the straw hat unsheathes his sword and comes running after us. There’s no question now. This man is one of the mysterious serial killers that roams the streets of Prosperity at night. I’m also sure that my father could escape him if he didn’t have me as a burden weighing him down, but unfortunately he does, and being the man that he is, I know my father would rather die than abandon me.

Our house is only a five-minute walk from the dojo. Sprinting, we could probably be there in two and a half minutes if not less. Yet if my father were to run straight home, it could put our entire family in jeopardy if the mysterious killers decided to attack us where we live later on. So instead, he decides to try weaving through a side alley to lose our pursuer.

The alley is a narrow corridor that leads to another main street. Within it, there’s a large dumpster and a number of smaller trash cans. Since our city is filled with litter anyway, my father figures that it’s okay to knock over the trash cans in an attempt to stall our attacker. He continues running and exits the other end while our pursuer is left stumbling over trash.

Finally, my father’s serious expression cracks with a small grin as we turn the corner from the alley to the main street. Yet his grin dies at once. We run straight into another Loathsome Midnight. When this new man sees us, he’s just as surprised as we are. He stands still silently facing us while my father tries to decide what to do next.

He doesn’t decide fast enough. The other man who was pursuing us from the start, comes out of the alley behind us. We’re now stuck between two Loathsome Midnights.