Hachijo Prison Uniform soaked and glowing pink like the hot spring she was just yanked from, Emi struggles on her hands and thighs as if searching for her glasses, though in this case it’s her breath she can’t seem to find. Black smoke continues to rise behind her. A second kick from the same steel-toed foot shoves into her, this time finding her RibPorts and sending her buzzing onto her back.
She looks up at the ring of inmates standing around her, eyeballs squeaking when she uses her thumbs to smudge the glowing pink liquid over them until she can somewhat see again. Her eyes, tinted purple by the thin layer of pink fluid, note their variously ominous cybernetic parts to be unlike any she has seen thus far.
Queen Bee starts the conversation with the ragtag team: “Gooday, fellow inmates. My host was trying to drown me; I am in your debt thanks to your prompt arrival. Unfortunately, the bounty on Inmate 402156 (Charles), has expired…we are not he.”
“Good as,” Inmate 323728 (Matsu), chirps from behind the beak of his bird-like mask.
“You flatter me, Matsu; your big red-haired dog’s ass isn’t too bad either.”
The red-head, Inmate 301485 (Liam), winds up his fists. When he speaks there’s no doubt, he’s somehow still proud to represent the Irish: “Think you’re funny, do ya?”
Bee improvises, switching from her default Australian to a bad Irish impression: “What a lovely accent. Though I can’t quite place it…was your father Scottish when he fucked your mother lad?”
Matsu calls off his attack dog, “Down Liam.”
The brass knuckles of Liam’s raised fists glint pink light into his bulging eyes; he drops them only when the two inmates at his sides hold them down. “She needs to be put right; acting the maggot this one is.”
Emi smiles, teeth glowing a milky pink, “Póg mo thóin (Kiss my ass).”
Liam hits back, “Go dtachta an diabhal ort (May the devil choke you).”
Emi smiles wider, joining the conversation: “I am The Devil.”
Matsu turns to Emi, looks into her eyes as if trying to see where Bee is hiding, “Who the fuck are you to use that name? Your father discarded you in here to feed us, you’re nothing but a mouse being dangled by its tail over a nest of black rat snakes.”
Emi tries to crawl away, only to be stopped when Liam stands on her back.
Matsu continues, “Something tells me your father enjoys watching you squirm. We can only hope he enjoys watching us eat you alive even more.”
Liam screams, “Get it off me!”
Emi and Bee both lose themselves in laughter when Liam spins, revealing a steel tail has been added to his collection of parts where Hitman has sunk its teeth into the inmate’s freckled ass.
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A steel toe connects again, this time to the speaker Bee and Emi are combining their efforts to laugh from.
Matsu puts his beak in the Irish man’s face, making the man wince, “Damnit, Liam, I said down, boy! We need her alive.”
Emi uses the distraction that lifted the weight from her back to roll fast towards the water, but three inmates are standing around with nothing to do but drag her by the cast-covered-foot away from the damned salvation the fading hot spring brings.
“Why has she not been tied down?” Matsu points his beak at each of the other four inmates, demanding an answer.
Inmate 321298 (Ha-Yun), let’s Emi’s arm slide through her black leather gloves, “We’re trying…”
“She’s slippery.” Inmate 325327 (Matviy) adds, refusing to give up his thus far fruitless efforts to grasp Emi’s writhing parts.
“Like a pig,” Liam spits as he spins in a continuous circle trying to determine if his new tail is detachable.
Hitman mumbles through a mouthful of flesh, “Tastes like bacon.”
Bee speaks, “Let’s stop this fighting and settle this over a round of Irish Pig Fuckers—on me.”
Despite her desperate attempts to remain free, Emi’s once well-trained mind has returned enough to think clearly: Insufficient funds.
Bee responds aloud, “Most pig fuckers do it for free. Liam here, for example…”
Liam locks onto Bee, his eyes looking drunken with rage, numbing the piercing pain in his rear end.
“Oops…was I thinking out loud again.”
Liam’s fists unload on Emi long enough for three jabs to send flashing spots into her eyes. Dazed, her fighting slows as if losing coordination. The inmates take the opening to strap her arms behind her back using long strands of bamboo.
“Fuck, she bit me,” Liam whines.
“That’s what you get for holding your fists in front of her mouth you eejit,” Bee says with glee.
“You barely drew blood,” Liam counters, suddenly tough again.
Emi spits the little bit of skin stuck between her teeth at the man’s metal foot.
Bee scolds, “Don’t provoke him you fool!”
Me!? You’ve been provoking—
Emi and Bee both recognize the inevitable motion of the foot that’s swinging like the steel-ball of a pendulum towards them; this time, it goes for the head.
“Crunch,” Bee predicts.
Wrong. Emi isn’t wrong, it did make more of a thud than a crunch. Either way, the sound is followed at once by their body falling limp at Liam’s foot.
Inmate 337284 (Camila) checks the health status of the body.
“Is she dead?” Liam asks, his anger replaced by fear.
Matsu says, “She’d better not be.”
Camila answers, “She’s breathing,” then nods to Matviy, “but we need to hurry.”
Matviy, the burliest of the inmates, grabs her bound body and tosses it over his shoulder like a half-full sack of rice. The band moves as one toward the now operational ski lift, the brands at the base of their skulls visible on the only two of them not wearing anything over their heads: Unit 731.
At the base of the volcano, while rain that wishes it was snow continues to fall, Unit 731 drops from the ski lift and moves for the cover of the dense forest. Thickly huddled bamboo soon turns into palm groves as the dirt ground mixes with blackened sand.
They soon find the edge of the forest, no others in the dark forest willing to risk suffering the consequences of interfering with the operations of this infamous gang. The ocean waves, wind blowing unseen on the rocky beach that just came back in view. Unit 731—along with their new toy—turns right and continues for another few kilometers until they reenter the forest and come upon the screaming hut camouflaged by drying palms.
Matsu commands, “Take the log to room 333, I think her father will appreciate the irony.”
“What makes you think he will care?" Hay-Yun asks as she jams her gloves into the matching pocket of her knee length black leather coat. “He did send her here.”
As is his ritual before starting work on an experiment, Matsu stops at the water-well and takes the washing towel in his hands. For two precisely self-counted minutes, he shines his beak. Only when the washing towel is back in place does he answer the question: “I doubt he cares, which will make her torture a bit less fulfilling…but the question is worth answering nonetheless.”
How should Emi approach escaping Unit 731's lab?
