Back after a long, unplanned hiatus involving staples, my lung, and a hospital. For the next few posts, I'm going to be writing fiction. Or at least, transcribing fiction.
Basically, the gist of this is that, rather than taking something completely new, I'll find a movie, or a cartoon, and make video text. They'll have to be terribly short scenes though.
First up, The Enigma of Amigara Fault, by Junji Ito. It's a short story in manga form. Off to writing!
This will probably be broken up into parts over the next few days. This means I get to write more!
1:30 PM - This portion of the writing is complete! Next installment tomorrow.
Owaki could feel the rumbling from his fourth floor apartment. It was a gentle rumble of an earthquake far away, the type Japan was used to experiencing. Okawi continued to watch the news, sure that he was safe, and that nothing fragile needed to be moved.
Sometime later, he woke up. He must have dozed off on the couch. That had been happening more and more often these days. There was really nothing to do in the summer, while classes were out. His friends were all out of the city, touring Tokyo, or enjoying the mountainous countryside. A few of the lucky ones were overseas, in Europe, or the United States. Okawi was left here in the stifling heat, jobless and without classes to go to. It was too hot outside for all but the street vendors and the tourists.
Okawi laid on the couch for another spell, letting the droning voice of the newscaster fade into white noise. “…the earthquake at Amigara Mountain has caused quite the stir. The mountain appears to have-”
The remote fell with a quiet thump onto the carpeted floor, its job complete. Presently, a pair of bare feet joined it, slowly shuffling towards the laminated tiles of the kitchen. Okawi began to prepare himself some ramen. As the stove began to heat the room further, Okawi slipped a few ice cubes into his mouth, and slicked back his short hair with some water from the sink. The heat was oppressive, and the fans did little to liberate the young student. Okawi shuffled back to the couch as he waited for his noodles to cook.
“…and now we go to our reporter on the scene, Aizawa Ohba. What have the teams found at the Amigara fault, Ohba?”
“Well, Yoshida, the earthquake has uncovered two things. First, the natural landscape here is beautiful. The split peaks of the mountain promise an exhilarating hike to the top and an astonishing view from the top.”
“Why is that?”
“The earthquake split the mountain in two, and created a fault leading deep down. Even hikers who have previously gone up the trails of Amigara Mountain should find a new experience in store.”
“Ohba, you mentioned the teams found a second thing?”
“Yes, and that second thing is quite the discovery. In the newly created wall, there are thousands upon thousands of holes.”
“Human-shaped holes. We have been unable to get a read as to how deep these holes are, but they appear to go deep into the mountain.”
“Wow, that’s creepy. Thank you, Ohba. And now we go to Seto Tamura, our cameraman on scene, to provide us a view of these strange holes.” Owaki snorted. This was probably just the prank of some kids with too much time on their hands. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he knew this was not true. Owaki continued watching.
The screen switched to a shot of the mountainside. There they were. They were only small holes from this distance, without any real form or shape. The helicopter carrying the camera began to fly in closer, and at the same time, Owaki began to lean forward. His eyes widened as thousands of shapes materialized on the fault’s face. Human shapes. Short, tall, fat, thin. All types, and thousands of them.
“Wow, isn’t that a sight. Investigative teams are due to come in tomorrow to figure out just when these holes were made, who made them, and for what purpose. This is Yoshida, signing off.”
Owaki laid back down. It would be quite the trip to go out to the fault. Besides, he needed something to do. He felt a sort of….calling from the mountain. His boots hadn’t been out of the closet for years, either. He was sure they would appreciate the fresh air.