Hyabusa: A Tale of Urban Terror
By Darrell King
()
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"Hyabusa: A Tale Of Urban Terror" By Darrell King
Ominous, dark and ghoulish, Japan's dreadful Aokigahara 'suicide forest' is legendary for its macabre history of suicides, sudden disappearances and eerie hauntings, among other unsettling mysteries. It is here at this grim location that a striking street bike of sinister, residual energy, would be discovered, resold and exported to the U.S. Once there the sleek, motorcycle would bring misery, harm and even horrific deaths to all whom claim ownership of its cursed power. Will anyone discover the dark history of the deadly street machine before the curse of the suicide forest steals yet another unsuspecting soul?
Darrell King
Darrel A. King has been writing ever since the age of eight. His first published work of fiction was penned during the fall of 1976 as a student of Mary Field’s Elementary School on South Carolina’s Daufuskie Island. This effort was an adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkein’s “The Hobbit,” that he also wrote and illustrated. It was published in the school’s quarterly periodical, “The Daufuskie Kid’s Magazine.”Darrel King has written stories and numerous poems, several of which were published in the 1995-1996 “Poetry Anthology” by the National Library of Poetry in Owings Mills, Maryland.During the 90s, Darrell King became inspired by and attracted to the lurid tales of inner city crime. Dramas he read in novels by great writers such as Donald Goines and Iceberg Slim captivated his attention. These tales prompted Mr. King to begin his literary career writing his very own stories of urban crime and inner city drama.
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Hyabusa - Darrell King
Author/CEO - Darrell King
COO/Marketing Manager - Elbert Jones Jr.
KJ Publications, Inc. www.kjpublications.com
The Evolution of Street Fiction
1
The leafy greens ruffled against each other as the gentle breeze climbed down the steep slope of the hill. The slow descent of the great gush of wind had reduced its intensity so that it had grown into a gentle pat on the cheeks of the tourists that traipsed along the pathway. They were all looking upward at the giant mountain standing before them. Coming from various countries and different regions from all around the globe, they had all come to see the Mount Fuji and just as what theyve all heard, it was really a sight to behold – it looked like they could stand and stare at its awesomeness all day.
The wind that carried along with it the scent of Lake Kawaguchi sent a chill down the spine of the tourists. They had all visited the Shinto
goddess Konohana Sakuya Hime at the base of the crater. Some had been in the neighboring village for days, marveling and reveling in the hospitality of the dwellers of Gotemba, a village just east of the mountain. They all moved away from the crater, done for the day and heading back to the different places they had all come from. It was not an ideal time to climb the mountain so most of them were heading straight to the get their baggage and leave to come back again.
Unbeknownst to many, fearful of the legends theyve heard about Aokigahara, they never passed there and thus never saw the bike that had been there for almost a week now. The pretty looking Hyabusa had been there in the open, its glowing red background lined with a dragon drawn in white against the fuel tank spitting out an unimaginable black fire from its ferocious mouth, fighting against the foreverpresent glare of his master. It had been five days ago when he had drove him out here from Fujinomiya early in the afternoon while the sun still bathed its glory on its red glossy body. He had brought a Minebea 9mm pistol along with a rope just in case he never got to shoot himself. He could pretend that he was just acting a role and get done with his act. He didnt have a purpose any longer so when the moment came,
it was not very hard for him to take his life in the eerie forest of Aokigahara.
He had believed that within a day or two, someone would have come by his bike and perhaps noticed his body not more than hundred feet away still hanging from the tree, his feet dangling beneath him. It was five days and more now, yet his body was limping there on the branch and his lovely bike was being treated harshly by the weather all day long. He had thought that taking away his dignity was enough for them – it seemed they werent done
with him just yet. They would let his bike rot out here too. For what reason, he couldnt seem to understand. His patience was beginning to wear out and he knew just what to do.
He had found a friend in the deepest trenches of the dark forest who had told him about life in the forest. The forest was a home to all the ghosts that died there and it gave them the opportunity to pass out vengeance on whoever caused them to end their life abruptly. The forest understood why they had settled for a tragic ending and it always offered them the chance to make sure no evil deed was left unpunished. Staring at his bike now, all he needed was someone to discover it. He needed to make contact with the world outside so that he could start his mission of destruction.
He watched intently night nor day neither passing them in the jungle but he could see the breaking of every dawn and the setting of the sun, he bid his time and he knew that he would surely get his revenge. He could feel it getting closer, just moments away.
***************
The guards just changed shifts, and Takano Tang was happy to be on duty again. He loved the serenity that the mountain suffused. Even during the times when it was not advisable to climb the mountain, hed always climbed to the second station just to sit and feel absorbed by the calmness that surrounds the giant. As a little boy, his parents lived in Gotemba and he always had the opportunity of sneaking into the park to climb the mountains. He and his friends lived everyday with the hope of a new morning when they would have the opportunity to climb the mountains again.
He hated visiting the northeastern part of the mountain since that was where Aokigahara stood but it had not been patrolled for almost a week now and it fell on him to make sure there was nothing amiss there. They had recovered three bodies just in the last month and he was not yet over it.
As he walked the grounds of the path that led to the dreary forest, he silently sang to the tune of Ko Jo No