Author's Note: While the plot of my newest fanfic involves the Sailor Scouts' battle against a vampire lord bent on a hellish quest, the main theme of this story centers around friendship, specifically, the friendship of Serena and Molly, both now eighteen as are the other Scouts. I'll explore the depth of Serena and Molly's relationship, the secrets each were forced by fate to keep from the other regarding Sailor Moon and how Molly who, in some ways had never fully recovered from the death of Nephlyte, thus leading her down a dark and ultimately tragic road, despite the Herculean efforts of Serena to pull her back from beyond. At the same time, you will also see the full blossoming of Serena's friendship with Raye, something which was always meant to happen. Like my previous story, "The Frankenstein Syndrome", this fanfic will be extremely intense and graphic, perhaps moreso, and will not have a completely happy ending. Life, at its most basic isn't always happy, it is filled with strife and struggle and, eventually, victory over despair and misery, though not without its cost, lessons which I hope to bring across here. If you wish to comment on my story, either positively or negatively, don't hesitate to contact me at [email protected]. Sailor Moon and all related characters are the property of Takeuchi Naoko, Toei Animation and DIC. So, please, don't sue me because I haven't any money. I do this strictly for entertainment purposes, not copyright infringement.
Blood on the Moon
by Jeffrey C. Branch
Prologue: Dusk
Rating: PG-13
Roy Carlton, a twenty year old exchange student from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania didn't know it at the time, but he only had a few minutes left to enjoy the life he led.
Studying computer science at the University of Tokyo for the last two years, Roy, who, at first wasn't too thrilled about being away from home had come to love living in Japan. The sights, the sounds, the places he'd been, the people he had met, it all filled him with an endless sense of awe and wonder. Each new day was an adventure for Roy as he visited shrines, climbed Mount Fuji, rode the world famous bullet trains across the country and, most of all, practically lived in the Ginza where he satisfied his voracious appetite for anything and everything electrical and electronic. He loved being in the Ginza most of all since he got to see the latest in computers which was his passion from a very young age.
But, over the past several months, computers were in competition for Roy's affection with something a good deal more basic, though no less easier for him to understand than microprocessors, advanced computing languages or data bitstreams. Romance. While heading home under a star filled night sky after a long day spent pouring over textbooks, Roy thought back with fondness to his chance meeting with the girl who quickly won his heart and became part of his life. It happened outside the local library where Roy bumped into the lithe, slender, redheaded beauty who was on her way home after a study session. One look into her deep, dark eyes, filled with both boundless life and, much to his puzzlement, a considerable amount of sorrow, told Roy that he was madly in love.
While Roy had his fair share of sweethearts back home, one of whom cried inconsolably for days before he left, he never really wanted to settle into any sort of serious commitment, knowing he would returning home within a year or so. His parents had divorced when he was young and Roy had come to believe that commitment was filled with more pain than he wanted to experience. His cynical friends would say that he was just looking for excuses to play the field as dyed in the wool bachelors loved to do. But this special girl changed all that for him. There was that certain....something about the girl that Roy found irresistible, something he couldn't get enough of. He knew then and there, that she would be his soulmate. Now and forever.
But it wasn't easy at first for Roy. It took a long time for the girl, two years his junior to warm up to him, explaining that she had been in a previous relationship that had ended in tragedy, a tragedy she refused to talk about, and how she wasn't ready for a steady commitment, even after four long, painful years. Roy, sensing how haunted she was, and the pain she had in her heart offered him his friendship at first, nothing more. From there, the girl began to develop genuine feelings of love for him, and, in time had grown positively inseparable. The two of them shared each other's lives as they enjoyed fun times together. At one point, they even talked about sleeping together, but neither he, or her were ready for sex and things never went beyond the talking stage.
However, there were rough spots here and there, thanks in part to his sweetheart's best friend, a spunky, pigtailed blond girl whom, for reasons he couldn't fathom was insanely jealous of how he spent more time with her than she did. But, Roy, didn't care. He was in love, truly and deeply in love, and that was all that mattered. He had never felt like that before and it was glorious. Checking his watch as he neared the campus apartment complex he called home, he saw that it was almost nine. He was sure his girlfriend would still be up. In fact, Roy knew she would since he promised her he'd call after he got home. Just the opportunity to hear her voice filled him with joy..
Roy's reverie was interrupted by the sound of footsteps close behind him. He turned his head but saw no one for at least half a block. With a shrug, figuring he must've been mistaken, he continued walking. Not more than a minute later, Roy heard the footsteps again, this time, they were so close, he swore he could almost hear breathing on the back of his neck. That chilled him as he turned around a second time and frowned at seeing nothing in sight. Feeling an unusual sense of urgency, Roy quickened his pace. Even though Tokyo was a far safer place to live than the South Philadelphia neighborhood he grew up in, a neighborhood seemingly forever awash in gangland violence, no major city was totally immune to crime, and he didn't feel like being a victim tonight.
With the apartment complex he lived at in sight, Roy relaxed, figuring he was safe. He was wrong.
Rounding a corner, he bumped into a tall, broad shouldered man of what looked like European descent and indeterminate age. He had very long, wavy, dark brown hair and was dressed in a black shirt, pants and a full length leather coat with what looked like a cleric's collar around his throat. Roy gasped at the color of the man's face which was deathly pale while his eyes disturbed Roy the most. They were two incredibly jet black orbs that seemed to absorb any light that touched them instead of reflecting it. All at once, Roy was terrified in the presence of this stranger who glared down at him. If Roy were to pin down the expression on the dark man's face, it would be one of----hunger.
"Excuse me, sir. I'm sorry I bumped into you," said Roy, anxious to get away from the dark man.
"That's quite all right, son. Accidents will happen," said the man in a thick, strong Slavic accent. "Headed home?"
Roy nodded. "Yes, sir. I am."
The dark man nodded and grinned. "Excellent. Let me help you."
Before Roy could respond, the dark man grabbed him by the throat with one black gloved hand and, with no effort, lifted him off his feet. Still smiling, the dark man stared into the terrified eyes of Roy who thrashed and struggled to breathe while in the stranger's powerful grasp. Then, with a slow squeeze, the dark man cut off Roy's air, rendering him unconscious. Satisfied that he attracted no attention, the dark man took Roy into a nearby alley where he would enjoy privacy for what he needed to do next.
A few minutes later, the dark man emerged, looking contented. Holding a well worn wallet in one hand, he rifled through it. Gazing at Roy's driver's license, the dark man grinned.
"Well, Roy Carlton, formerly of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, it was a pleasure to have met you." He then stopped and stared at a snapshot within the wallet. The picture was that of a teenage girl with wavy reddish hair, light brown eyes and a broad, friendly smile. At the bottom right corner of the photo was an inscription:
'To Roy, with love, Molly'
The dark man's eyes widened from surprise. Then lit up from delight. The girl captivated him. Fascinated him. Reminded him of someone he knew from his past. A very long time ago. He smiled. "Molly. How attractive. How very attractive. Soon, my dear, we too will have to meet."
Pocketing the wallet, the dark man strode casually off into the night.
Driving home from headquarters after a brutally long day on the streets, Lieutenant Hideki Fukoda eagerly looked forward to a good, hot meal from his beloved wife, followed by a long hot bath before bed. The thought of those simple pleasures, the very best kind in his opinion made the veteran cop smile, despite the overpowering grimness of his latest case. It was those tiny slices of heaven that made his life, and his job all the more bearable. Suddenly, Fukoda's pleasant thoughts was broken by the electronic squawk of his police band radio.
"Headquarters to Unit 112. Headquarters to Unit 112. Come in."
Fukoda groaned as he picked up the mike. "Unit 112, go."
"Unit 112, proceed immediately to the Campus Arms Apartments of the University of Tokyo. Over."
"HQ, I'm off-duty. Isn't anyone else closer? Over."
"Negative, Unit 112. There's been another Deep Throat. Over."
Fukoda scowled, his attention perked. 'Deep Throat' was the ridiculous code word given by his pompous, overbearing superior, Captain Mura to the very serious murder investigation he was currently working on. A code word that was leaked to the press who made it out to be the worst thing to hit Tokyo since Jimmy Doolittle and his squadron of death dealing B-25 bombers came calling in 1942. Knowing what he did about the case, there were times Fukoda thought when the blood hungry piranhas from the media weren't too far from the truth. And that scared him. Any thoughts of home and hearth instantly vanished from the veteran cop's mind as he sat up straight in his seat.
"I copy, HQ. On my way. Out."
Minutes later. Fukoda pulled his car up to a alley near the apartment complex, a madhouse of winking lights from squad cars and a huge crowd of bystanders milling around a cordoned off area, that being the mouth of an alley, curious to see what was in it. After walking up to the crime scene, he was surprised to see his partner, Detective Shiro Hiyata giving orders to a couple of patrolmen.
"Shiro? What are you doing here? I thought you went home an hour ago."
Hiyata, fifteen years Fukoda's junior who's been in plainclothes for only a couple of years shrugged. "I did, boss. I was just leaving a restaurant around the corner with two old college buddies when I heard someone screaming. When I got here, I found that," he said, pointing into the alley at a mound under a white sheet some twenty feet distant.
"You gave the code word. Is it what I think it is?" Fukoda asked.
"See for yourself."
The veteran cop walked into the alley, followed by Hiyata. Fukoda knelt and lifted the sheet, then winced slightly at what he saw, a young man, American, his throat badly gashed and bloody, yet his face was deathly pale.
"Yup. It's another slasher killing alright. Damn. This makes eight in the last three weeks," said Fukoda, his voice deep with regret and fatigue. "I was seriously hoping I was wrong about this, Shiro, but the evidence is as plain to see now as the belly on a sumo wrestler. I'm afraid we've got a serial killer on our hands."
"Terrific. The press will have a field day with this. And I thought this kind of shit only went on in the States."
"Not hardly, my friend. America doesn't have a monopoly on psychotics. You and I of all people should know that after what we went through on the island."
Hiyata, despite the warmness of the evening, shivered ever so slightly at the mention of 'the island'. That nightmarish day four years ago when he, Fukoda and the courageous teenage heroines known as the Sailor Scouts battled horrific man-monsters on an island hideaway. The monsters were created by Kenji and Keiko Mitsumo, two truly mad scientists who used drugs, animal DNA and radiation to transform ordinary men into living engines of destruction for a demented U.S. Army General to use in a private war against terrorism. In the end, both the Mitsumos, and their benefactor met grisly deaths at the hands of their ghoulish creations. Yet, even after all this time, Hiyata hated to dwell on that awful day, easily, the longest and most frightening day of his life.
"I try not to think about that, sir. It still gives me nightmares," the young cop growled. "What next?"
"We wait for the Coroner. But I already know what he's going to find when he does his investigation. That the body had somehow been nearly drained of blood. And no clues whatsoever as to how it was done."
Hiyata groaned. "Oh, hell. Is this going to be a repeat of four years ago? Something beyond our ability to handle?"
Fukoda sighed and dropped his head. He wanted so badly to tell his young partner no, if anything, he was desperate to tell Hiyata that this was the work of just another run of the mill psycho. But, deep in the pit of his stomach, he knew he was wrong. From the start, he suspected that this was far beyond the ordinary, so much so that it frightened him, and, after twenty two years on the force, he trusted his hunches with his life. Finally, he said to Hiyata in a grim tone, "Could be, Shiro. Could be."
And, at that moment, Fukoda idly found himself wondering what Sailor Moon and the Scouts were up to right now.
NEXT: The End Of Innocence