Tokyo April 2005
Naru sat cross-legged upon the floor of the shower recess, crying, allowing the water to flow over her body. She couldn't believe it. She had thought them dreams, and now she had to face the truth about her previous existence. Rinsing off the conditioner, she climbed to her knees and pulled herself to her feet, chiding herself for giving her mother such a fright.
I keep waking up all over Tokyo…in café's, parks, factories…everywhere. What if I wake up and have an accident? Naru wondered, turning off the faucet.
"Darling, are you all right?"
"Sure mom, I'll be okay, I'm probably stressed out from study…," she said, feeling guilty for lying to her mother.
Naru thought about Umino; he was so patient with her, and always there for her whenever she came out of her spells. It didn't matter if it were day or night. Naru would call him on her cell phone to come get her. He never complained, or asked for an explanation as to why she couldn't remember what happened in the gap between her last conscious memory and when she came to somewhere in the city.
He was naturally worried about her. He loved her and understood whatever this was all about; it had to be something important. He told her he believed it would work out in the end.
She finished dressing and said goodbye to her parents, who stood on the veranda with worried expressions on their faces as their daughter rushed back to the University after a weekend at home.
---
The security guard finished his sushi and checked the car park in front of the Mexican Embassy, his eyes scanning the bank of computer screens to make sure that nothing was amiss.
Suddenly, a beautiful Mexican woman in a ruby-red flamenco dress climbed from the back seat of a black Corvette-Stingray. She was a welcome sight after working a long shift, where he saw the same cars parking in the same spot each day. Not to mention, the same embassy staff moving back and forth in a staccato fashion as if playing out a ground-hog day scenario.
Omi loved the way her long legs poured themselves into red high heels, and as far as he was concerned, she certainly counted as a welcome distraction, especially the raven-haired woman's stylish low-cut dress, around her neck, a solid gold musical note pendent, suspended on a fine gold chain, nestled between her breasts. Then a switch flicked on inside his head. Whenever his professional training overrode all other considerations, he was alert. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Omi had come to trust and rely upon this uncanny sixth sense, for it had saved his life on more than one occasion. He always knew when something wasn't right. He felt it now. There was something out of place about the Latin siren standing in front of her car.
‘It's not her dress… Hmmm, though she's hot…what is it?' Ômi mused. Then it dawned on him, her eyes! Oh shit, they're glowing bright red. By the Kamis, Omi's thoughts tumbled over one another as he walked the length of the car park at a measured pace. The woman ignored him. He retraced his steps, returning to the security booth. He switched on the digital cameras. There were protocols to follow, to prevent a terrorist attack or to deal with any other emergency. He took down the license plate number, scribbled a brief description of the car and its occupants, and faxed a copy to the Japanese national security bureau.
"What the hell?" Omi gasped.
At that moment, the woman's companion in a black matador's outfit emerged from the car, and took his place beside the mysterious woman as they turned their bright-red eyes in Omi's direction.
"Something is going down here, and it's not just her neckline."
Omi took out his revolver, releasing the safety catch and frowned, hoping he wouldn't have to use it.
"They're never going to believe me at home tonight," he mused, gathering enough courage to face the unknown.
His thoughts drifted to the powerful Sailor Moon and her Senshi, Tuxedo Kamen and their exploits, fighting the most hideous creatures. Now, he was faced with a situation that for these super heroines and the masked hero, Tuxedo Kamen went with the territory. He wondered why they weren't here taking these guys on. But given the many such incursions by the alliance he'd read about and seen on television news reports, he wouldn't be surprised if their resources didn't stretch far enough to meet each individual threat.
"I'm only a security guard, my only power, the authority of my uniform, badge and gun. What could I possibly do if these guys were the kind of monsters Sailor Moon sent packing; throw my gun at them? Yeah right. You get this kind of thing every day. I'll just go out there, and tell them to stop whatever it is they're doing and be nice about it and go home," he chuckled at his sarcastic thoughts.
The couple stepped away from the car and began to dance, their movements fluid and professional. The woman's steps quickening as the music built up to its crescendo. Her skirts swirled about shapely legs, long dark hair following her body's graceful motion. If not for the red glowing eyes, he might have enjoyed the show.
Then Omi's eyes doubled in size. He couldn't believe what happened next. The dancers began an elaborately choreographed seduction rite, unbuttoning, unzipping and removing items of clothing, throwing these with rapturous abandon into the crowd of onlookers that had gathered to witness this impromptu strip show, loving every moment.
He could scarcely believe his eyes, half-fascinated, curious to see how far they'd go. The guy's eyes began to glow more intensely as he slipped his arms around the woman's slender waist, massaging her hips, working his way up her waist as her bodice fell away, exposing her bronzed splendor as they continued to move around the car accompanied by an evocative flamenco rhythm as the woman played her castanets. The crowd were whooping and clapping, oblivious to the fiery eyes that only he could see. The couple stopped, threw off their remaining clothing, and in a single movement, the man lifted the golden woman onto the bonnet, her dress under her naked body. Wrapping her long legs about his waist and with a mighty thrust of his lean hips, he entered her, their glistening bodies moving to a more ancient dance -- their cries of pleasure filling the car park.
Omi just stood there stunned, unbelieving, watching the dancers copulating in front of a large group of people in a public place. Finally, they parted, only to continue their dancing as if nothing had broken their rhythm.
Omi spoke into his cell phone, asking for back up. He put on his hat, gripped his gun, deciding it was time to break up this little party.
He lowered the security boom to prevent any vehicles leaving and stepped out of the booth once again, moving in their direction.
"Okay everybody, party's over. Now move along," the couple ignored him, but most of the onlookers began to walk away uncomplaining.
Omi turned to the couple, telling them to stop their dancing and to get dressed and place their hands upon the roof of the car with their feet apart. They stopped in an instant. The woman faced him with eyes flashing like red halogen-lights. The remaining onlookers screamed in terror, for it seemed that now they too could see their fiery-red eyes.
Suddenly, the woman's stomach opened up like a zipper, releasing a dozen slimy black tentacles that reared like angry vipers before lunging at the crowd. These serpentine appendages were over 12 feet in length, and covered in claw-like hooks. A network of bright-orange lightning swirled around each as they continued to attack the crowd, capturing half a dozen victims. Then her partner's body opened up and far larger extremities claimed more victims.
Omi's hands were shaking as he took careful aim, and fired several rounds into the woman's stomach. The orange lightning formed a protective shield preventing these finding their mark. She laughed defiantly. He was unable to stop her.
The alien female groaned with pleasure while draining four teenage boys, and two adult males of their sexual energy, absorbing every ounce of life force, leaving only a pile of ash. The male creature raised his arm, and directed a beam of sickly green plasma in Omi's direction. He threw himself to the ground, and the explosion vaporized the van in front of him.
People ran in all directions, screaming. It was at that moment, Omi heard a voice inside his head -- or was it all around him.
‘Omi-san, I am with you. I shall defend you and save those under your protection. I'm Sailor Epsilon. Aim for the creature's eyes and fire.'
He pointed his automatic machine pistol at the male and pulled the trigger, hitting his target. The creature yowled in pain, whilst his tentacles groped for Omi, who rolled away just in time.
The woman, jumped into the car and started the Corvette's engine, and drove erratically through the security gates, smashing the boom to matchwood. Her male companion rived on the ground as a thick black pool formed beneath the hideous creature, having shed its human façade. Omi watched in horror as the creature crawled into another car after ripping off its door and sliding inside. Omi knew the creature was fatally wounded, and when the engine started, he crouched, took careful aim at the fuel tank and pulled the trigger. The rush of heat preceded the shockwave that sucked the air from his lungs knocking him to the ground as a fireball lit up the embassy wall. Alarms and sirens rang out amidst the secondary explosions from nearby vehicles, keeping the security forces pinned down. They tried to see through the blanket of thick black smoke, but visibility was reduced to a few feet.
Sweat poured off Omi's brow as he jumped to his feet, satisfied the explosion had incinerated whatever this thing was.
"Hai, see what you can do for those kids, I think some of them might still be alive," Omi cried, noticing the blood on his torn uniform as tears streamed down his face. Omi shook off the medico and pointed in the direction of a limping teenager, ignoring the stares as the symbol of a fiery crescent appeared upon his brow. He had no idea, and wouldn't have cared at that moment. But fate had other plans for the courageous young security guard.
The naked woman drove through a series of busy Tokyo intersections, careful to avoid the police and paramilitary roadblocks along the way. People stopped on the sidewalks and stared as the bare breasted woman with strange red eyes, in desperation sought to escape her pursuers. Motorists cursed, some whistled at the naked girl with the gold pendent around her neck.
She flew towards oncoming cars on the wrong side of the road, almost colliding with them. At one stage, she careered along the sidewalk, crashing through a series of trestle tables laden with fruit, sending produce and people in all directions.
She tried to avoid police and military helicopters in hot pursuit.
After entering an underground car park, she managed to lose them. A family stood staring in disbelief, the mother covering her teenage son's eyes as they stared at the strange naked woman. She touched the side of a four-wheel drive, causing its door to evaporate and jumped behind the wheel, using a dark crystal orb to start the engine. The children began to cry as the vehicle drove out of the car park.
The stolen vehicle made its way along the harbor road, ducking in and out of small alleys, to ensure she had slipped past the cordon.
Fifteen minutes later, she crashed through a large metal gate, finding herself within a vast sports complex. The vehicle stalled and came to an abrupt stop. The stadium was empty. But when the woman looked up, she noticed the crystal dome overhead and relaxed her grip on the steering wheel. She stumbled out of the driver's seat to escape the smoke billowing from the engine that choked and blinded her.
At that moment, she looked up and saw the female warrior standing before her atop the roof of the SUV. She wore a cherry-red fuku, with white lining, her high-heels encrusted with rubies, her tiara silver with ruby crescent set within a silver pentacle. She held a lemon-green orb, its waves of force forcing the woman back in fear and anger. The Senshi's wavy red hair fell just below her hips, around her throat a choker with pink diamond crescent.
The Senshi said nothing as the woman's body opened up, releasing once again the thick black tentacles that moved like whips towards the female warrior.
In response, she lifted her orb and spoke words of power, "You shall be reborn as the seed of light and your evil destroyed."
The shape-shifter assumed her true form, and flew towards the Senshi and was stunned by a bolt of saffron light that held the screaming entity suspended in mid-air. Then its body opened in several places and small milky pancake shaped creatures fell to the ground, bursting into flame.
The creature flapped its black slimy wings like an airborne stingray, protesting the loss of her offspring.
"You will pay, your kind are finished."
The creature then fell to the ground, assuming the form of the naked woman once again. She leered at the Senshi. Smiling and licking her lips as a gesture of intimidation and defiance.
"Your darkness is coming to an end, you will be defeated!" the senshi declared as her power rose to its apex.
"Oh yeah? You would make a tasty little treat for my pleasure as I rip your energy from your body, and after toying with you, I'll feed you to my new spore."
The alien woman raised her arms and surrounded the Senshi with sickly green light in an attempt to subdue her, but she found herself unable to move. The dark metamorph was trapped inside a pink sphere.
Suddenly, the sky vanished, with only the pink glow visible within the velvet-black void of subspace. The sphere vanished, and the creature's Affinity essence was re-absorbed into the Affinity Weft on its journey to become pure consciousness.
The beautiful red-haired Senshi raised the sphere, chanting as the subspace portal closed, "And so it is done," Epsilon declared as the orb pulsed one last time.
It was at that moment, swarms of police and emergency vehicles arrived at the scene, dumbstruck by the burning four-wheel-drive and strange marks upon the ground. Forensic experts cordoned off the area and began their investigation. Omi stood in the distance, watching, seeking the redhead senshi, as he needed to talk to her. If he were part of this community of sleepers, the concept new in his lexicon, he needed to find her and learn what he had to do and had no doubt Epsilon would contact him again and soon.
