[The End of Osamu Ashikaga]: Proof of Existence

Omagatoki and her men took Manami out of the plane and shoved her into the back of one of the SUV’s. One of the men took the wheel and followed close behind the first vehicle in a three-car convoy away from the airstrip. Omagatoki sat in the backseat alongside Manami, pinching the fingertips of her gloves and pulling them off her hands.

“Oh cheer up, would you?” Omagatoki said, staring at Manami’s wistful expression. “If the exorcists really had taken you in, you would’ve never seen the outside of a jail cell again. I like to think this is a mercy.”

“What did you do to Sapporo HQ?” Manami asked.

“I destroyed it, of course. Anne told me Sapporo was expecting you. I grabbed some men from Yakutsk and let them know we’d be assaulting a private plane. I blew up Sapporo HQ just how I blew up Kyoto HQ, then we took three of their vehicles and came to get you.”

“Yakutsk? So these are Hima’s men, then?”

“Hima’s and Osamu’s. The plan to found a new nation with Hima as its queen worked. They named the country Minavere and Osamu was crowned king. But when Osamu announced his plan to carry out his genocide of the human race, the people of Minavere were conflicted. Many of them support it, but others think it’s too extreme of a measure.

“Minavere’s government has been split in two, and the head of the opposition is a man named Johan Sommers. The only reason I rescued you is because you can help us stop him. I distinctly remember you mentioning the name back when Lucrezia was still alive. You did your homework on him, as well as Hima and Carmilla. I need to know what you know.”

“Seems to me that Osamu overplayed his hand and bit off more than he could chew.” Manami said. “It sounds like you and your sister knew exactly what his true intentions were. Honestly, it doesn’t surprise me. You two have always been devils in sheep’s clothing. It was easy to forget your capacity for evil when you were still in those childlike forms.”

“Focus, Manami.” Omagatoki demanded. “You gave Osamu all the info he needed to know about Hima and Carmilla. What I’m trying to figure out is why you didn’t do the same for Johan Sommers. As far as I know, he’s advocated against the return of the monarchy ever since he arrived in Yakutsk in the late 90’s. You didn’t think a reformist like him would be a threat?”

“That’s not the reason I didn’t tell you anything about him. I didn’t say anything…because I thought Johan Sommers had been dead for nearly a century.”

“What? How is that possible? Osamu and Hima just met the man face-to-face. Stop playing games with me, Manami.”

“It’s not a game. Johan was Lucrezia’s grandfather.”

Taken aback, Omagatoki caught her breath and sat up in her seat. Manami had her full attention.

“Manami…I think you need to start from the beginning.”

Manami stared at the eclipse looming over Hokkaido through the car window. She hadn’t slept in days and could hardly focus, but when it came to the mystery behind Johan Sommers, she couldn’t allow her concentration to wane. It was an important name in Lucrezia’s ancestry, and to the world.

“Johan Sommers was a decorated soldier, one of Dracula’s finest until the Second Great Holy War. Up until then, Johan was an ardent nationalist who supported Dracula’s ambition to create a safe country for vampires everywhere. But when nationalism turned into genocidal imperialism, Johan became disillusioned with the Vampirical Monarchy.

“He deserted the armed forces shortly after Dracula’s death, and when the remaining vampirical lords began to fight for the throne, he fled the country to avoid getting wrapped up in the chaos. The Second Great Holy War was a traumatic experience for him. He believed that his race had committed an unforgivable act of evil upon the world.

“Johan went into hiding after the fall of the Vampirical Monarchy, at least as far as I know. He re-emerged in the 1930’s as a professor at Goethe University until the Nazi party took control of Germany. I don’t know what he was up to during those years. I’m surprised he wasn’t murdered. The Nazis treated the vampires just as harshly as they treated the Jews and Gypsies. Yet, somehow, he managed to survive there until the invasion of Germany.”

“Once Hitler’s Germany fell apart, Johan fled to Russia. It’s very possible he began working with the vampires within the Sevvostlag labor camps in the far east. Everyone imprisoned in those camps lived a hellish life. Constantly strip searched, barely fed, worked to the bone every day. His trail ends in the Sevvostlag camps. As far as I knew, Johan committed suicide in 1954.

“We only thought Johan was dead because Lucrezia’s grandmother reported it to the Exorcist Program. Somehow, she managed to flee from the Soviet Union and get back to Japan in one piece. I have no idea who helped her pull off such a feat or why, nor do I know if the information she gave in exchange for her safety is completely accurate.”

“Did the exorcists know that Lucrezia had vampirical ancestry?” Omagatoki asked.

“Yeah, but she didn’t possess a vampire’s thirst for blood or anything like that. Her ancestry did strengthen her affinity for magic, which made her an ideal exorcist. Her mother and grandmother before her had completely renounced their relationship to Johan as well. The exorcists couldn’t deny her. Johan did something between the thirties and fifties to make his own family renounce their relationship to him.”

“So it seems the truth of all of this is far more complicated than any of us thought.”

Manami turned her head, her scarlet hair covering her empty eye socket. “Tell me something. Anne didn’t sell me out of her own accord, did she? Someone put her up to it.”

Omagatoki smiled and erected her index finger against her lips. It was all Manami needed to confirm her suspicions that Osamu was the one who betrayed her. The only way he would’ve ever manipulated a loyal ally like Anne was if he had control over Inari’s power.

“He played the part of the helpless tagalong the whole time.” Manami said. “Thinking back, I knew I noticed how downcast he seemed. As the day of the attack grew closer, he seemed to withdraw into himself more. I thought he was just dejected about what happened to him, about what was going to happen to his hometown and the people living there. But that wasn’t it. He knew he was going to destroy the world, didn’t he? He knew he was going to kill everyone the world over, wipe out race after race, country after country.”

Omagatoki smiled before leaning forward in her seat and tapping the driver on the shoulder. “This is far enough. Let’s ditch the vehicles here.”

The driver pressed his thumb against the talk button of his radio, barking a command in Russian to the leading car in the convoy. All three of the SUV’s came to a stop on the side of a dirt road surrounded by trees. Omagatoki helped Manami step out of the car then whistled to her men, Everyone gathered around Omagatoki and Manami, much to the latter’s confusion.

“Where are we going?” Manami asked

“Back to Yakutsk.” Omagatoki answered. “Akatsuki should’ve returned with Taeko by now. You can tell Osamu and Hima everything you told me.”

While Manami and the Shoku Twins prepared to return to Minavere, Hannes made another appearance at the children’s park. He sat alone on the nearest bench and pulled out a copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray, the distant shouts of playing children providing the perfect background noise for him. The gentle snow fall and shimmering aurora borealis made for a serene atmosphere, ideal for reading a good story.

After reading a few chapters, he looked up to find the young boy, Anton, running towards him with a large, leather-bound book in his hands. Anton ran with a big smile on his face, beyond thrilled to be returning the favor for Hannes.

“Hannes! Look! I brought the photo book!” Anton shouted as he got closer.

Closing his book, Hannes waved to Anton and moved over to the left side of the bench to give him some space to sit.

“That’s wonderful.” Hannes said. “Let’s take a look together, shall we?”

Anton gleefully took a seat and opened the photo book. He and Hannes were treated to a myriad of late 19th-century portraits, as well as a few family photos. There were many grayscale photos of distinguished men and young women, all of them wearing the finest suits, blouses, dresses, and jewelry. It was easy to tell just from a glance that Anton’s family members were quite distinguished members of society.

Anton’s smile flattened into a straight line as he noticed one particular detail about all the photographs. “That’s odd. I thought their last names would be Kozlov, like mine.”

“Oh? You’re right.” Hannes said. “Their surnames are Dragavei. The descriptions say these were taken at the Dragavei estate in Vlașca.”

“Vlașca?” Anton repeated in confusion. “Where the heck is that?”

“An old province in Romania. Looks like your family hails from Romania, not Russia.”

“Seriously? My parents told me we’re Russians. Why would they lie like that?”

Hannes’s eyes were drawn to the photographs including the patriarch of the Dragavei family at the time, Cezar Dragavei. He was an imposing man that stood six feet and four inches tall, had short, black hair, and a full bard.

He often wore black suits and ties in his portraits, his right middle finger aglow with the glimmer of a garnet, signet ring. He held a black walking cane with a golden handle and the slinky chain of a golden pocket watch stretched from his vest pocket to his second-to-bottom button.

Alongside him in several of the portraits was an exceptionally beautiful girl named Anna, his youngest daughter. Anna had the face of an angel and blonde hair brighter than the rising sun, her large, round eyes instantly drawing Hannes and Anton into her gaze. It felt as though she was actually there, staring at them from a distance rather than being a long-dead girl stuck in the printed moment of the photograph.

“Wow…that Anna girl sure is pretty.” Anton gasped. “Can’t believe I’m really related to her.”

“Anton?”

“Yeah?”

Hannes leaned in close with a warm smile on his face. “Would it be possible to get some photocopies of these? Specifically, this portrait of Anna.”

“Oh, sure! We have a printer at school and they’re not closing for another three hours.” Anton said, giggling to himself. “Sounds like you’re in love with Anna, huh?”

Hannes leaned back, chuckling softly. “I’ll admit, I’m a sucker for beautiful women.”

The shimmering, emerald aurora borealis cast its vibrant shade upon Minavere as Osamu stood at the row of windows in the hotel conference room, watching the city. He heard the double door open, its hinges creaking loudly as Akatsuki stepped into the room with Taeko close behind her. Osamu turned his head, his eyes widening in surprise the moment he saw Taeko.

“What’s going on?” Osamu asked. “Why is she here?”

“You and Hima were pre-occupied dealing with Johan head-on, so Sis and I made our own moves.” Akatsuki said. “You’re going to need Taeko’s help if we have any hope of pulling this off. Omagatoki’s on her way to break Manami out of exorcist custody too.”

“Did you search her?” Osamu asked.

Akatsuki nodded. “Yeah. No weapons or teleportation coins.”

Taeko, remembering that she was just as much of a lord as Carmilla or Annabel, took her seat at the conference table and poured herself a glass of whiskey. She didn’t dare look Osamu in the eyes, not after all he had done since the attack on Fukuoka. The air in the room suddenly grew heavy. The silence was almost deafening. Taeko took a long sip of the whiskey and exhaled the alcoholic fumes from her breath.

“I only came because I know you would’ve forced me to help if I didn’t.” Taeko said.

“Yeah.” Osamu responded, staring out the window.

“Akatsuki told us you knew from the start you’d have to kill Aika. Is that true?” Taeko asked.

“Yeah.” Osamu answered.

“Is Rei going to die as well?”

“Most likely.”

“And you just…don’t care? Neither of you care?”

“It was worth it.” Osamu said. “I didn’t come this far just to be stopped by my friends.”

“I don’t know if the girls are going to forgive you for that.” Taeko said.

“I don’t care if they do.” Osamu said, turning around and taking a seat across from Taeko. “You of all people should understand why I was willing to go so far. You’re no stranger to making costly sacrifices.”

The doors opened yet again, this time making way for Omagatoki, who had Manami’s arm slung over her shoulder to help her walk. They stopped after passing through the doorway. Manami instantly locked eyes with Osamu, who glared back at her with an unyielding ferocity.

“Well…” Omagatoki began, “it looks like everyone is here.”

“Manami.” Osamu said, waving his hand towards the chair next to Taeko’s. “Glad to see you’re still well. Have a seat.”

Manami released an enraged sigh as she sunk into her seat, her gaze falling into her lap. With both of their targets brought back to Minavere, the twins took their seats beside Osamu, the long, elliptical table dividing the two parties. Manami gnashed her teeth together so hard they almost shattered into pieces.

Sitting there at that table was an utter humiliation for her. She had no freedom and no say in what Osamu did to her and Anne. Her own son-in-law had taken everything she had prepared and used it against her. In that moment, she was helpless and in no position to protest against Osamu’s wishes.

For Taeko, the anger was mutual. She was staring Aika’s murderer and the destroyer of the human race in the face, and she didn’t see an ounce of regret behind his eyes. All she saw was darkness. Osamu’s gaze, once so full of light and good-natured determination, was now a deep, black void. Looking at him, she began to wonder if it were possible for one man to not only reflect the abyss, but to become it as well.

He was like a black hole, the point where all light and matter vanished, where all structure was destroyed and became chaos. His mere presence exuded a chilling evil that made the hairs on Taeko’s arms stand in attention.

“Needless to say, we’re not the allies we were when we started this war.” Osamu said. “But regardless of how you feel about me, you two need Minavere to succeed just as much as I do.”

“Let me guess.” Taeko said. “You’ve made an enemy you can’t just manipulate.”

“Even worse,” Manami chimed, “you’ve made an enemy out of Johan Sommers. Where is he right now?”

“At the Scarlet Senate, gearing up to push the Mankind Referendum forward.” Osamu said. “He wants the nation of Minavere to take a vote on the Human Problem. In a few minutes, the SSK will start rounding up and expelling all human inhabitants of Minavere. That’ll rid us of some of his supporters.”

“I’m guessing the SSK is your secret police.” Manami said. “So you won’t even spare the humans living among you?”

Osamu leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “Keeping them here is a bloodbath waiting to happen. Either the nationalists will end up killing the humans themselves, or the humans will launch a preventative strike against the vampires that support the genocide. Minavere is a nation for vampires, just like its predecessor. It wouldn’t be controversial to exile the human populace. Besides…getting rid of the humans here serves another purpose for me.”

“The point is,” Omagatoki began, “We went through the trouble of founding this new nation, but Johan threatens to turn the country in on itself. We’re in a fight for the soul of Minavere, you see. Before we arrived here, Manami shared some incredible information about Johan with me. The rest of you should hear it as well.”

“Is that so?” Osamu asked. “Tell me everything you know, Manami. Who is Johan Sommers?”

While Manami shared all that she knew about Johan, Minavere’s secret police scrambled dozens of black SUV’s across the city of Yakutsk. The SSK was moving to expel human inhabitants from their homes, their schools, their churches, and even from police stations and government buildings.

All across the city, the same scenes played out everywhere. Black-clad SSK troops ripped spouse from spouse, sibling from sibling, and friend from friend. Johan caught a glimpse of what was happening from his office window in the Scarlet Senate building. Four black cars screeched against the frosted road as they stopped at the apartment complex just down the street. The car doors opened and twelve masked SSK troops came flooding out of the vehicles with KS-23 shotguns in hand and black trench coats flapping in the snow-laden wind like capes.

People shouted and yelped in surprise as they passed by the scene on the sidewalk, watching the SSK barge into the apartment building. Alarmed, Johan rushed out the door of his office and raced down the hall of the senate building. Dozens of other senators were coming out of their offices and gathering around the windows to see what was happening.

He rammed through the double door entrance of the senate building, standing at the top of the twenty-five stone steps descending down to street level to see over the growing crowd. Just as he made it down, ear-piercing honks and sirens blared from the right side. Everyone turned their heads and saw a convoy of at least thirty APC’s trudging down the road. Behind them were fifty or sixty more black SUV’s, each one packed with SSK reinforcements.

The other senators gathered around Johan as they watched the chaos unfold, their mouths agape and eyes stuck open in terror.

“What’s happening?” asked a female senator, her long, blonde hair fluttering in the wind.

“They've done it.” Johan said. “Osamu and Hima are going to exile all humans from Minavere.”

The APC’s stopped in a long line stretching miles down the street. Their rear doors opened, letting out a dozen troops per vehicle. Unlike the SSK, these troops were armed with AK-47’s and dressed in white, winter camouflage from head to toe. They wore heavy, black kevlar vests over their uniforms. Their sleeves were decorated with a shield-shaped, black and white patch sewn to the shoulder. The patches depicted a red moon against a starry, black background and bore the words ‘Minavere National Guard’.

Hundreds of troops flooded the streets, barging into homes, apartment complexes, diners, and offices to arrest every human inhabitant in the city. It took only a few minutes before terrified screams rang out from within the walls of every building on the east end. Johan watched as a blonde mother was dragged out of the apartment complex by her hair, the woman kicking and screaming as the SSK dragged her two preteen children into their black SUV’s.

More human captives were taken out of the apartment complex, the oldest being seventy six years old and the youngest being five. Johan watched as the regular, daily life of all who lived on the east end of Yakutsk came to an abrupt halt. Tremors shook his body as he witnessed the people of the east end being rounded up and shoved into military vehicles while Minavere’s National Guard cordoned off onlookers and bypassers with barbed trestles

His surroundings flashed from the present moment in Minavere to a distant memory in the arid drylands of Kazakhstan. He was just a boy then, but the scene and the horror were all the same. He remembered Soviet troops and prison guards beating him and his friends when they were just children. He remembered the sweat, mud, and vomit that filled the trenches he was forced to dig and fill in again.

The smell of gunpowder that filled his bunk after a fellow prisoner was shot by an agitated guard, the calluses and popped blisters dotted across his hands after hours of forced labor, the stomach aches that ensued after being given stale bread and hard potatoes to eat. It all came flooding back to him, forcing him to suffer the horrors of his past and present all at once.

“Johan!” Senator Balakin shouted. “You’re bleeding!”

Johan looked at the sleeve of his coat, noticing red droplets staining the sleeve of his coat. He dabbed his index finger against his lips, noticing his nose was bleeding profusely. His head ached as though his skull was shrinking and crushing his brain.

“Are you okay?” Senator Yana asked.

Johan covered his nose and turned around, rushing towards entrance of the senate building. “I’ll be right back!”

The seams diving past and present continued to unravel for Johan. As he raced to the bathroom through the halls of the Scarlet Senate, the marble floors squelched like mud beneath his feet. The sconces on the walls shined like criss-crossing flashlights slashing through the darkness. The distant hollers of the onlookers outside sounded like the Russian howls of his Soviet pursuers.

Once he barged through the bathroom door and locked himself in, everything seemed to return to normal. He slouched down on the floor and unbuttoned his dress shirt as he caught his breath.

“He’s not there…” Johan said, gasping for air. “The devil isn’t there. He isn’t there. He isn’t there…”

After the first two hours of the purge, thousands of human citizens were driven to the railroad on the edge of Yakutsk, a multi-car cargo train stood in wait. The Minavere National Guard dragged people out of the transport vehicles and forced them to walk in a single-file line with their hands on top of their heads. The line then split off into five forks where citizens were forced to remove their clothing and any personal belongings.

Every man, woman, and child was stripped naked and left vulnerable to the fierce, Siberian cold. Their tears turned into soft ice the moment they fell from their widened eyes. Their teeth chattered incessantly and goosebumps riddled their bodies. Left with nothing, they were shoved into the cargo train at gunpoint.

Hima and Annabel stepped out of the backseat of one of the black SUV’s parked a small distance away from the train. They marched through the windswept field of ice their boots sinking into the soft, crystalline snow at their feet. They suddenly heard a terrible barrage of screams and cries coming from the train.

“Stop! No!” Screamed an elderly man as he was being pushed onto the cargo train. “Stepan! Let me see my grandson!”

The old man watched with tears in his eyes as his ten-year-old grandson was huddled into a separate train car with other boys his age, all of them naked and terrified. With the boys packed together like pigs in a tight pen, the troops shut the car door and locked it. The moment the lock clicked, the elderly man broke into a fit of sobs, his eyes turning red.

Hima walked alongside Annabel with her hands behind her back, a smile on her pale face, and a joyful bounce in her step. The screams and commotion stopped as soon as everyone laid eyes on the queen of Minavere herself. She stopped in front of the opened car door, looking into the terrified faces of each and every person packed together in the train.

The quietude was so heavy that it was almost possible to hear the collective heartbeats of all the captives. It was though they were meeting face-to-face with the devil herself.

“Well, now…” Hima chuckled. “This is quite the reversal of fortune, isn’t it? The last time this happened, it was we vampires being loaded onto trains and driven from our homeland. It was us with tearstained faces and broken hearts. It was us stripped naked and left to die in the elements. As of today, Minavere is a nation for the vampiric race. Her soil shall feed vampiric mouths. Her waters shall nourish vampiric throats. Her skies will flutter with vampiric flags. Lord Taeko is a special exception, given her role in the founding of this country. The rest of you, however, have no such privileges.

“You will be released far away from this place. You will be forced to face the same hell many of us endured after we lost our nation and our loved ones. Now leave. Begone! Minavere is not your home! Not now, not ever! Fight together!”

The men of the SSK and Minavere National Guard responded with a thunderous scream. “Die together!”

All of the cargo doors were sealed shut and the train given the order to depart from Minavere. Hima and Annabel watched in glee as the train slithered down the tracks into the Siberian wilds, their men screaming Inari’s adage at the aurora-veiled sky. The west end erupted into celebration as the news of human deportations spread like wildfire.

Once again, the streets filled with thousands of proud vampires. Their king and queen had fulfilled another one of their biggest dreams; the expulsion of humanity from their nation, and from the world at large.

Osamu stood from his seat in the conference room, looking out of the row of windows again as the people’s cheers bled through the walls of the hotel.

“What’s going on out there?” Taeko asked.

“The vampires are finally getting their nation back.” Akatsuki said. “So, how are we planning to deal with Johan? Manami seemed pretty shocked he was even still alive. Up until now, he was presumed dead.”

“I need to find out the truth for myself.” Osamu said.

“But how?” Omagatoki asked. “Meeting him right now might be especially dangerous. Tensions are sure to get higher between the east and west ends. You’re not safe over there and he’s not safe coming back here.”

“Then it’s a good thing we have a human lord with us, someone who can bridge the gap for just a little longer.” Osamu said, turning his gaze towards Taeko.

“You want me to meet with him?” Taeko asked, her brows sinking downward.

“Of course I do.” Osamu said. “Why do you think you were able peer into my memories back in Fukuoka? The Akiyama clan has always been predisposed to become Mu-Onna after the loss of a child, more so than any other bloodline. It’s why Yoko can gather information about people through a kiss. It’s why the Exorcist Program used Manami as a spy. It’s why you were able to see into my mind. You can do the same to Johan.”

Taeko’s eyes flicked back and forth as she glanced at everyone’s faces. Everyone seemed to agree that she was the best person for the job. The twins didn’t need to say a word for her to know that they would simply force her to cooperate if she didn’t play ball. So, left with no real choice in the matter, Taeko nodded her head in silence.

“Let’s meet with him tomorrow” Osamu said. “We’ll get to the bottom of this and save Minavere. Count on it.”