Read Online Pilgrimage of the Sacred and the Profane by Hideyuki Kikuchi - Free Book Online
Authors: Hideyuki Kikuchi
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looks like you made it okay,” someone called from the rock behind
her, prompting her to turn in a daze. When she did, her eyes caught the massive form
of a man in a brimless blue cap. Feeling the malicious lust in his eyes as he watched
her, Tae backed away a few steps.
“Don’t go being so cold with me, now,” Clay said, a broad smile creeping across his
face as he approached her. The beads of sweat covering his face glistened. “I just
came to a minute ago myself. This is a hell of a place to find ourselves. Could be
me and you are the only two who survived, you know. In which case, it’d be better
for both of us if we could play nice, now wouldn’t it?”
“Keep away from me.”
“Well, now. You got a lot more to say than I thought, don’t you? I didn’t really get
to hear what you were jawing about with the Vampire Hunter. But I’d sure like to hear
me some of that sexy voice of yours.”
Before Clay had finished speaking, he pulled the girl’s tiny body close to his own
massive form. Given almost no time to resist, Tae was pushed back against the sand.
“Stop it!” Tae screamed as fingers hard as rock sank into her breasts through her
blouse. When she tried to push the warrior off, her hands were caught by the wrist
and twisted up over “her head. Clay’s lips came closer. The girl desperately turned
her face away. His lips touched her cheek. Suddenly all the strength drained from
the girl, and Clay knit his brow. Re-gardless, he sought her lips again. She was as
unresponsive as a wax effigy.
“What the hell?! You giving in already? That’s no fun at all. C’mon. Scream or cry
or something!”
Though the younger Bullow believed his words had carried sufficient threat, Tae’s
expression hadn’t changed at all. This wasn’t just some trick to rob him of his carnal
urges.
Unable to stand it any longer, Clay shouted, “Hey!” and shook the girl by the shoulders.
Taking her chin in hand, he turned her face back. The instant their eyes met, a moan
slipped from him. What occupied Tae’s eyes was something humans were never meant to
see. Sadness and hatred, suffering and fear—all of those emotions commingled in her
eyes, but more than anything they were shrouded with a distant coldness beyond imagining.
“You felt that all those years . . .” Clay muttered absentmindedly.
“I remember . . . a little . . .” the eighteen-year-old girl said in a tone that could
freeze even a hardened fighting man. “A little of what happened to me there . . .
You’re exactly the same . . . All of you . . . Humans and
them
. . .”
“You mean you were . . .” Clay muttered, and then a harsh sound rang out. With a cry
like a wild animal he pulled back, and then sprang forward. A howl through the wind
followed after him: a mighty lash from a leathery whip.
“Prepare to take your medicine. I’ll flay the hide off your hands and face!” Granny
shouted from beside a massive boulder five or ten feet to the right of where Clay
had first appeared. The whip whistled; it hardly seemed possible that an old woman
was manip-ulating the whip as it dealt Clay a blow that stung to the bone.
Eyes still shielded by both hands, he hurled a single insult: “You fucking hag!” Once
again, Clay leapt back, and a beautiful sound rang through the air. A split second
later, half of the whip that was snaking after the man’s massive form disappeared
like a puff of smoke. At a loss for words, Granny stiffened with tension.
“I’m gonna punch your ticket, you old bag!” Clay shouted, his right hand creeping
across his harp. A prismatic cloud suddenly spread before his eyes.
It was sand. The very instant that she saw Clay was drawing on his own skill, Granny
quickly discarded her whip and pulled the sand from the jar at her waist. However,
the strange color of the sand and the way she used it made it clear that this was
no simple trick to blind
her, prompting her to turn in a daze. When she did, her eyes caught the massive form
of a man in a brimless blue cap. Feeling the malicious lust in his eyes as he watched
her, Tae backed away a few steps.
“Don’t go being so cold with me, now,” Clay said, a broad smile creeping across his
face as he approached her. The beads of sweat covering his face glistened. “I just
came to a minute ago myself. This is a hell of a place to find ourselves. Could be
me and you are the only two who survived, you know. In which case, it’d be better
for both of us if we could play nice, now wouldn’t it?”
“Keep away from me.”
“Well, now. You got a lot more to say than I thought, don’t you? I didn’t really get
to hear what you were jawing about with the Vampire Hunter. But I’d sure like to hear
me some of that sexy voice of yours.”
Before Clay had finished speaking, he pulled the girl’s tiny body close to his own
massive form. Given almost no time to resist, Tae was pushed back against the sand.
“Stop it!” Tae screamed as fingers hard as rock sank into her breasts through her
blouse. When she tried to push the warrior off, her hands were caught by the wrist
and twisted up over “her head. Clay’s lips came closer. The girl desperately turned
her face away. His lips touched her cheek. Suddenly all the strength drained from
the girl, and Clay knit his brow. Re-gardless, he sought her lips again. She was as
unresponsive as a wax effigy.
“What the hell?! You giving in already? That’s no fun at all. C’mon. Scream or cry
or something!”
Though the younger Bullow believed his words had carried sufficient threat, Tae’s
expression hadn’t changed at all. This wasn’t just some trick to rob him of his carnal
urges.
Unable to stand it any longer, Clay shouted, “Hey!” and shook the girl by the shoulders.
Taking her chin in hand, he turned her face back. The instant their eyes met, a moan
slipped from him. What occupied Tae’s eyes was something humans were never meant to
see. Sadness and hatred, suffering and fear—all of those emotions commingled in her
eyes, but more than anything they were shrouded with a distant coldness beyond imagining.
“You felt that all those years . . .” Clay muttered absentmindedly.
“I remember . . . a little . . .” the eighteen-year-old girl said in a tone that could
freeze even a hardened fighting man. “A little of what happened to me there . . .
You’re exactly the same . . . All of you . . . Humans and
them
. . .”
“You mean you were . . .” Clay muttered, and then a harsh sound rang out. With a cry
like a wild animal he pulled back, and then sprang forward. A howl through the wind
followed after him: a mighty lash from a leathery whip.
“Prepare to take your medicine. I’ll flay the hide off your hands and face!” Granny
shouted from beside a massive boulder five or ten feet to the right of where Clay
had first appeared. The whip whistled; it hardly seemed possible that an old woman
was manip-ulating the whip as it dealt Clay a blow that stung to the bone.
Eyes still shielded by both hands, he hurled a single insult: “You fucking hag!” Once
again, Clay leapt back, and a beautiful sound rang through the air. A split second
later, half of the whip that was snaking after the man’s massive form disappeared
like a puff of smoke. At a loss for words, Granny stiffened with tension.
“I’m gonna punch your ticket, you old bag!” Clay shouted, his right hand creeping
across his harp. A prismatic cloud suddenly spread before his eyes.
It was sand. The very instant that she saw Clay was drawing on his own skill, Granny
quickly discarded her whip and pulled the sand from the jar at her waist. However,
the strange color of the sand and the way she used it made it clear that this was
no simple trick to blind
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