Saturday, February 26, 2011

Life in contrast

Hey folks, here's your fill of Ankoku no Ki for the week. This chapter highlights the new character Melanie Carter, a seductive 22 year-old from NYC. I hope you enjoy her as much as I do.


Chapter 11:

Someone Save Me

            “Someone kill me” was the sum of Melanie Carter’s thoughts as she sat at a small table in a small café in downtown Tokyo whose name she had already forgotten. Across the table was a young Japanese boy in his mid twenties. When they had first met, Melanie had that the boy was cute, but now, as he rambled on about his view on the Union’s government, she was tired of him.
            At the age of twenty-two, Melanie was the second oldest of her roommates—Dr. Hartmann being the first—and frequently acted the part. Her blond hair, hazel eyes, smooth and tan skin, and curvy body always guaranteed that she would find a date whenever she wanted. Not to mention, whenever her looks didn’t get the job done, she always knew the right words to make a man sweat with nervousness as he was seduced by her soft voice. In the olden days, she would have probably been liked to siren, only prettier, with the way she lured men in only to crush their hearts. But such wasn’t always her fault. I mean, the girl’s libido was constantly bigger than the valedictorian brain in her skull. In the palm of her hands she held the potential to advance the world far beyond its current state, yet chose to primarily indulge herself in carnal passion.
            Taking a long, loud sip of tea she disappeared into her mind for a bit, thinking of how she wanted the boy before her—whose name she also had forgotten—to shut up so she could take him back to her apartment and tear his close off. The warm liquid jump softly out of its resting place as her lips softly touched the cold ceramic cup. The warm liquid slid easily down her throat as she imagined the tongue of the vociferous boy in front of her in its place.
            “Melanie?” asked the boy, shaking her from her thoughts.
            “Yes?” she asked sweetly.
            “What were you thinking about just now?”
            “Nothin’ but you, hot stuff.” Melanie winked flirtatiously then slowly licked the remnants of her tea from her top lip as she lowered the cup from her mouth. The boy laughed lightly with a light grin forming about his face. Attempting to push the boy to where she wanted, she smiled back at him in a promiscuous fashion, letting her beautiful hair drape down over her right eye. She looked even cuter when she played her little games and was almost certain that her trick had worked when the boy grabbed her hand from across the table. Unfortunately, all that happened next was his opinions about how the U.S. should give up their war efforts.
            Melanie continued to smile her fake little smile that anyone other than the oblivious socialist in front of her could have seen through. Softly she sighed, gently rubbing her finger pointer finger over the boy’s white hand, thinking to herself, “I’m never gonna get laid, am I?”


            Darkness had covered the colorful Japanese sky overhead as Melanie started home with disappointment on both her mind and her face. Her date night had ended when she ditched her boring date on the third hour of his speech on the fallacy of supercapitalism. “All I’d wanted was a lil lovin’,” she said to herself. “Why do boys have to be such morons?” She sighed heavily as she turned a corner a mile from her apartment.
            The street she was on was scarcely populated by only a few pedestrians walking briskly on the opposite side of the street and the distinct, distant sound of motorcycles cutting gently through the dead air. With the bad reputation of the area and only a few residences in the run-down buildings along the street, it was no wonder why very few people traveled such a deserted path. “I wonder if there’s still a way to turn this night around.”
            Quickly the distant, gently hum of the motorcycles grew to a loud racket of roaring motors and drunken voices. As the first bike passed by, the rider yelled to his fellow gang members and they circled back around towards Melanie. She glanced over her shoulder in time to see the bikers pass by once more, only centimeters from the curb.
            She stopped walking as the first of the bikes parked a little over a decameter away, with the rest of the bikes close behind the first.
            “I guess they’ll hafta do…” she thought aloud with a girlish smile as six buff, Asian bikers dismounted their vehicles.
[For the record, the bikers were Japanese (who would have known, right?). This entire interaction was spoken in complete Japanese and has been thoroughly translated for your convenience.]
            “Hey there, girlie,” the leader and largest member of the pack said in a low voice with a perverted grin. “You wanna take a ride?” The rest of the bikers chuckled loudly in the background.
            “Not today, gentlemen. You see, I’m horny as hell and desperately need something to fill my empty hole that’s been aching all night, if you know what I mean.” She smiled flirtatiously at the leading man who proceeded to laugh coolly at the situation and advance towards the fragile-looking young woman. When he reached her, he wrapped his arms around her waist tightly and pulled her tightly against his body which clearly dwarfed hers.
            “I have just what you need, little lady. I can easily help you fill your hole, if you know what I mean.”
            “I’m sure I do,” she whispered seductively, allowing him to take her body even tighter into his and her lips to draw closer to his. “But, I’m afraid that the two of us are on two completely separate pages tonight.” She jabbed two of her fingers deep into his right thigh, making the gangster cry out in pain.
            “You bitch!” he screamed. She laughed devilishly as she slowly drew her fingers out of his thigh and the light out of his eyes. Her fingers took a curved path which ended with her two digits pointing upwards towards the darkened sky and a stream of dirty water snaking from the gangster’s wound up Melanie’s extended arm. His entire body gradually imploded itself as all the liquid in his body escaped to surround Melanie’s arm and solidify into a clear blade of what appeared to be crystallized water. She smiled at her acquisition.
            “It’s too bad really,” she spoke to the rest of the gang who now cowered in fear at the sight of the intimidating woman. “He should have approached me earlier when all I wanted was sex.” She giggled lightly with glee. “Oh well, I guess you’re all at a loss.” With an excited yell, Melanie ran at the gang of men slicing through each of their bodies with the blade on her arm, their blood becoming part of her blade the second it escaped into the air. The clear blade had become crimson by the time the last body had fallen. “Well, whadya know. All of them are dead. Oh well, I had fun.” With a large smile she drove her blade into the ground and pulled her arm out from amidst the crystal, the solid mass becoming liquid once more when it no longer touched her soft, seductive body.

Friday, February 25, 2011

A poem for your thoughts

Hey everyone. The new chapter of Ankoku no Ki won't be posted until tomorrow, but I thought I'd share a random poem just because. Enjoy!

"Nunca in Mentiroso"

Look into these eyes I wear so strictly.
Know that they see you and only you.
No one else could matter more to me,
even if you see only another person,
a person that I could never hope to be.

Let my envy fill me.
I'll use it to tear down these walls
to become the demon I've been called.

Through this all,
I'll be solely a sinner,
nothing more.

So, go ahead!
Spit on me as you would a false profit
as you walk out that fucking door,
but always remember your place in my heart.
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Tuesday, February 22, 2011


I really have to thank anyone still tuned in during the massive hiatus that seems to be taking place. I know how sad I would be to only be reading a few things from here a week, in fact I am quite sad about it. Let's pray that our friends will come back soon. Maybe they'll be struck with some huge inspiration today, or maybe tomorrow. Who knows?
In the meantime, I would like to share one of my recent piece of poetry that I feel quite proud of, maybe wrongly so. Its entitled 'Flowers' but it's actually not about flowers so I hope you pick up on the metaphor.


Many flowers spring forth
from my mind.
Some bloom,
Others wither.
Others grow into
magnificent trees.
Some bear fruit
while others are simply flowers.

Sometimes I'll cut them down
place them in a vase
and share them with a friend.
Other times
I keep them as a secret
for me and God alone.

I love these flowers,
they always smell sweet.

Oh and today is my mom's birthday. Happy Birthday Mom!!

~Anora Anakaya~

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Ella habla espanol?

Hey everyone, I know that this week has been a little light on the posts. We're still trying to adjust a working schedule, so bear with us for awhile.

Anyways, today is Saturday, which means a new chapter of Ankoku no Ki. This week starts the story arch that will last till the end of the book, so I really hope you enjoy it. Anyways, tell me what you think


Chapter 10:
Comenzemos Realidad


            The year 2030 is when Rachel Edington’s story continues. A year has gone by since her escape from the secretive wing of Wright Patterson Airforce base in Ohio, USA. In that time, she managed to find transportation out of the United States—with the help of the German doctor, Friedrick Hartmann—and to Tokyo, Japan, the new capitol of the Republic of the Eastern Union. The war is taking a small toll on citizens of Japan, but life in the technologically advanced capitol is, for the most part, progressing as usual.
            Now dawns the time when you ask: “What’s next?” Well, simply stop asking such stupid fucking questions and start reading further down the page to find out.


            “Why do we have to go to the market so often? I’m getting sores on the bottom of my feet from all this exercise,” groaned nineteen year-old Angela White as her and Justin Feldin stood in front of a refrigerated wall of soy products in a downtown Tokyo market.  Angela was a girl of medium height with lightly tanned skin. Her face was naturally pretty and worked to highlight her bright, light-green eyes without a trace of make-up. In two long braids her red orange hair draped past her shoulders and rested atop her breasts. Habitually her hands pulled softly at one of the braids as she waited for Justin to choose between several types of tofu.
            To the average passer-by, Angela was just another pretty girl who resembled the average Latina and really loved warm colors—literally, her entire wardrobe everyday consisted of a t-shirt and pants of either red, orange, or a combination of  both colors. To her circle of friends however, she was a person with a firry ambition to explore new things and a slight obsession with fire. Well, I guess “slight” is putting it lightly, especially since Angela loved everything about fire—its glow, its color, everything. At one time, the obsession had thrown her life as an orphan in Madrid, Spain into hot flames. (She had a pile of matches, gasoline, and a lighter. You do the math.) For a while she was even homeless. Luckily, times were quite different when she was relocated to Japan by a private interest group and met Justin, Rachel, and their three other roommates.
            Finally Justin decided on a type of tofu and placed the white block in the small basket hanging from his arm. “We wouldn’t have to if Yoshiro didn’t eat so much all day,” Justin replied with a slight bit of humor. “I swear, that kid eats so much food…I figure he would be as big as Huey by now.”
            “Well, it’s no surprise, considering how much he runs each day,” Angela snickered.
            “I guess.” Justin’s eyes replaced the case of soy products with Angela as their point of focus. Softly, he smiled at her. “I find that it’s best to not complain about it though.” She smiled back and let her right arm intertwine with his left.
            “How could I ever complain about spending time with you, Justin?” He laughed lightly before kissing her softly on the top of her head.
            “No sè, bonita.” Angela’s smile brightened as she pushed her body even closer to Justin. She always loved when he spoke Spanish to her.
            “Te adoro mi amor.” Together, they walked lightly to the other parts of the market to get the rest of the items on the shopping list they had been sent to complete. Never did either give up the comfort of the touch of the other.


            “Alright, Rachel, just focus your energy into physical form. Picture a vine coming from your body, feel it beneath your skin, and then make it breach, just as we’ve been practicing. You can do in, mein liebe.” Dr. Hartmann coached Rachel as she meditated with crossed legs in the center of their minimalist Tokyo home—only a few blocks from the market at which Angela and Justin were shopping—in only a training bra and black sweat pants. For several months the doctor and Rachel had been trying to gain more control over Rachel’s abilities, while even discovering a few—such as her realized ability to sharpen a curved vine so much as to create a large scythe. (One day, I’ll tell you the gory stories behind such a realization, but for right now we’ll stick with Rachel’s training.) Several vines began to reach upwards toward the ceiling from her back and held stiff in the air, she smiled at the, now pleasurable, feeling of the sharp plants breaking out from beneath her skin. A side-effect of the training had definitely been to make a masochist of the once sweet and timid young woman.
            Her tightly closed eyes marked the level of her concentration as she attempted to envision what the vines should do before the action occurred. Two of the vines split, dividing into four smaller vines. Suddenly she opened her eyes with excitement. “I’m doing it!” she exclaimed. The vines shot back into her skin as soon as she lost her concentration. She shuddered hard in ecstasy with the feeling of the retreating plants. Hunching forward slightly, she tried to gain control of herself.
            “Y’know, that still creeps meh out a lil when ya do that,” joked a chubby, dark-skinned kid of twenty named Huey Langstrom, who sat on the couch pretending to read Manga, but secretly paying more attention to Rachel’s training.
            “Shut up!” Rachel exclaimed sharply as she sat up in embarrassment. “You’re a creeper for watching me anyways!”
            “Sure, yell at the black kid, racist.” Huey laughed heartily. Like Justin and Rachel, Huey was from Ohio, but spent most of his time a few dozen miles south of their hometown, Monroeville. He was a child of the streets of Cincinnati, a city which grows more violent as I write these words. Huey’s mother died from complications at his birth, and his father—who couldn’t handle the stress of raising him and his three other brothers—put a colt .45 to his head and blew his brains out against their Over the Rhine apartment only a month later. As you can see, Huey never knew either of his parents, but his brothers—ages 10, 14, and 16 when he was born—all pulled together to help raise him. Their efforts eventually turned to illegal actions in order to keep the rent payments paid, but such was the only way that they could survive. Huey loved his brothers, but he always knew that what they did was wrong and wanted more out of life than they ever had to offer. This wanting led to actions that will be made clear very soon, but resulted in him being relocated to Japan by the same people as Angela.
            “Rachel, you need to lose concentration so easily,” Dr. Hartmann preached for the tenth time that week. “This training is meant to teach you that above all else.”
            “I know.” Rachel sighed. “It’s quite hard when I have a pervert like Huey watching me.” She glared in his direction.
            “Hey, don’t mind me. I’m just sitting her, catching up on my favorite comic.”
            “Oh really? Is that why you were reading the exact same thing the last time I was training?”
            “U-U-Ummmm…..” Huey stammered for words. “Huey’s not here right now, please leave a message after the beep…BEEEEPPP…”
            “Uh-huh, that’s what I thought, pervert.”
            “Now, Rachel, get focused. We must get to finishing this training if we are to locate the tree of darkness,” the doctor said, trying to get her back on task.
            “But,” she protested, “isn’t knowing that it’s somewhere in the Kanto region enough to just search blindly for it?”
            “You should know better than that, mein liebe. The door to the Tree could be anywhere from an inch wide to the size of an entire building—” Rachel groaned.
            “Fine, fine.” Once more, Rachel closed her eyes and tried to focus, but quickly her concentration was broken by the sound of the front door sliding open and the sound of Angela and Justin’s laughs filling the air.
            “We got the grub!” Justin yelled as he and his girlfriend entered the living room holding hands. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” he said apologetically as his eyes fell upon Rachel, whose eyes were fixated on their hands.
            “No, it’s fine, you didn’t interrupt anything at all, Justin,” she said with a fake smile as a few vines started to squirm at the small of her back in response to her rising hatred for Angela. Justin wasn’t fooled by her cheesy smile and smartly released Angela’s hand. Of course, Angela looked at him in confusion for a moment before she got the memo and worked to change the subject.
            “Has Yoshiro or Melanie come back yet?” she asked Rachel, who still refused to speak to the girl whom she considered a home-wrecker at best.
            “No,” Huey answered, putting down his comics, “Yoshiro is somewhere searching for more information on the Ankoku no Ki legend, and I think Melanie is out with another guy.”
            “Isn’t that the fourth one this week?” Angela asked with a small sense of humor.
            “Yeah…but you know Mel, always looking for a good time with the guys.” They both laughed, while Rachel stood up and started to walk away. Justin tried to pretend not to notice.
            “I’ll be in my room,” Rachel said with an undertone of anger. “Don’t bother me unless another person comes to kill me.” Soon, she was out of sight and in the next room over. An awkward moment passed before Angela took the groceries from Justin and walked to the fridge in the next room to put them away.
“I believe she will need help,” Dr. Hartmann smiled and followed Angela into the next room.
            “Dude,” Huey said to Justin, who simply stood in the shame of making his best friend so irritated at his presence. “You know, if you make her any angrier, you’re likely to get your balls sliced off by those vines, or something.”
            “What can I do?” Justin asked, sympathetically. “I can’t please everyone…” he sighed.
            “I guess, but kudos on bagging the hot, Hispanic chick by the way. I know you guys’ve been goin’ out for about a couple months or something, but I’m still surprised you pulled it off without her setting your junk on fire.” Huey laughed, returning to his comics. Justin smirked, inching himself in the direction of Rachel’s room.
            “You honestly wouldn’t believe how hard it was to stop her. She really loves fire.” They both laughed—Justin’s laugh being hollow, with only thoughts about the pain Rachel felt.

Fate drives us.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

I Will Speak

Too many times
I've passed you by
saw you in trouble
and then looked away.

You who is my friend,
struggling to survive,
how many times
have I looked
the other way?

You whom I know,
struggling to get through the day,
how many times
have I stared silently,
never saying a word?

Today is a new start.
Tomorrow will be too.
And I promise
to you and myself
that I won't pass you by
no longer will I stay silent.

~Anora Anakaya~

Saturday, February 12, 2011

An Introduction of sorts

Ankoku no Ki, Part 2: 

Living Key

Chapter 9:


            For whoever may read this, I am a narrator without name whose identity will never be expressed explicitly, but may be guessed upon as we delve further into the story of Rachel Edington and her companions. There are facts to be consider however before you read anymore of her story. “What facts?” you may ask, but I wish to do nothing more than relive the past few decades.
            On the day that I am writing this message, my calendar reads: January 27, 2036, a little more than 5 years since Rachel was abducted from her dormitory at The Ohio State University and taken to a top secret wing at Wright Patterson Air Force base. The reasons for her abduction might be questioned, had they not been required under presidential order. Since the signing of the Treaty of Beijing between China and Japan in 2019, the United States’ police power has been acting under questionable authority to secure the interests of their country.
            Then again, the Treaty of Beijing had been a questionable matter to begin with. In one fell swoop, it destroyed the long-standing rivalry between China and Japan and forced their people to forget all past aggressions. Such an action probably would have been welcomed, had not the treaty ushered in a new era that combined the two world powers and created the Republic of the Eastern Union (R.E.U.), which gradually grew to envelop such countries as Mongolia, South Korea, and the ever-controversial North Korea. This new union worked effectively to push the United States out of Eastern Asia, only worsening the effects of the US bull market crash of 2022. As conditions in the United States worsened the military and technological expertise of the R.E.U. began to eclipse the once dominant world power. It seemed as though the R.E.U. would be the new leader of the civilized world.


            As per all good things, the conditions of life in the R.E.U. came under question as a new leader arose and brought the country to its peak at the cost of its citizens’ freedom. The average citizen was overworked, underpaid, and largely without proper nutrition. A rising population had left many people without work and without a place to live. In response to the population issue, the leaders of the state of China within the R.E.U. suggested reinstating the old practice of forced abortions, which passed without opposition. When media coverage of such events reached the United States to make the conditions of American seem better than they actually were, the public cried out in protest and eventually elected a man in 2024 whom saw the benefit of trashing the R.E.U.’s policies and sending unwanted aide to Asia. When the aide was met with resistance from the Eastern Union’s military, innocent people were slaughtered by soldiers and the anti-U.S. propaganda turned the Union’s citizens against U.S.
            Eventually the growing hatred turned to violence in 2027, when a series of elementary schools were bombed in southern California by Union radicals who wanted to instill fear in everyone stateside. The POTUS used this action to get preach to Congress and declare war. The president was reelected easily and in 2029 U.S. bombers devastated the P.E.U.’s capitol of Beijing. This action only worked to intensify the hatred between both sides until finally the Union’s military invaded California only a week after Rachel’s escape from Ohio, making the U.S. the main battleground for what appeared to be the start of World War III. 


            As has been already told from Rachel’s story so far, a section of the military believed that the answer to the conflict was to make the United States an unstoppable power through the use of the Tree of Darkness (Ankoku no Ki in Japanese)--an ancient tree that Japanese legend named as a barrier between life and death, good and evil. Legend places the tree somewhere in Japan, but only viewable by its guardian, whose true name has been lost to time.
“What exactly would the U.S. military want such a barrier for?” Well, that question shall be answered in time. Until then, the facts shall build with the tension until all minds crash with realization of what are the truths and what are the lies of this book of grotesques.

Fate drives me.