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Later a series of murders brought a curious bishop into the palace. It was rumoured that a vampire had been lurking around and killing at random. The master laughed at the possibility while the knight kept silent. Sensing the subtle discreetness, the bishop went into full investigation. It wasn't long before he found out where the true horror lay. Beneath the tranquility, the master, a cursed vampire, had been intruding the knight's sleep chamber every night. 'Let me drink your blood and you shall be with me forever. Didn't you pledge your loyalty to me? Choose!' Sickened at the ghastly form his master had transformed into, the knight chose to kill him with his own hands. 'Murder of one's own master is enough sin to send me to hell with you. There we shall stay together forever.' With these words, he pushed down the handle and the sling door flung open. At the break of dawn, all that remained was burnt ash and memory of his beauty, he who couldn't bring his own life to an end, he who was too broken-hearted to ask the knight for selfish company. 'Your grief is like a true hymn.' Hmm, don't ever try to figure out what it means or where the story leads. It's just a mirage of aesthetic images and surreal ideas, a piece of art that strives for perfection. So don't over interpret it. At least I don't, or I can't, honestly. By the way, Hymn reminds me of another short story called 'sound masturbation' in Motoni sensei's earlier collection 'Secrets of the Beehive'. The taste is very similar.
A classic bloody horror story where you see monsters slashing at corpses and broken body parts flying astray... Now that I've warned you... I'm not into horror stories, doesn't matter if it's scripted and illustrated by Motoni sensei. Reading it once is enough to close the page and lock it away. What's men's real horror? 'The biggest fear is fear itself.' Sounds familiar? Here comes Motoni 'The biggest horror of all men is men themselves.' You scream when you see a four-headed extra terrestrial organism landing on your forehead because they look too different to be safe. If that's not the worst, imagine an unbenoticed ghost existing among your closest friends. You see him, you see her, but you don't see 'it' , because 'it's' one of us. We're just the same. And one day when this familiarity jumped and screamed at you in its full-fledged form, you'll be too scared even to let out the faintest sound. In Killing Moon, there exists a monster who can transform into different persons depending on the viewer's inner desire. In other words, the monster itself (a werewolf like cannibal) is a fully fleshed out version of one's fantasy. Just when you thought you were seeing your long lost love and all you nerves were numbed by happiness, this 'lover' grinned and in a flash of second, you were nothing but a pile of disfigured mess. The moon was high. Get ready, you're the next!
After hearing the last hymn, we are taken back from the killing moon and land in an imaginary world of science, of machines and their artificial intelligence. A scientist, who thought social activitiy to be a big waste of time, invented a machine to do the job so that he could invest all his energy in new experiments. This machine, a highly intelligent replica of himself, soon learnt the small 'joys' of a normal life: So this's how it feels to take a stroll. That's called socializing. And this's what I should do when given an order. In no time, the machine had become a perfect replacement for the scientist himself. 'Was it the real you or the machine last night? Maybe you weren't real.' his lover said jokingly. Existence is unique. Why should we have two identical copies? It's meaningless. In the end his mighty invention fired right back at him. Who was more real? 'I'm real! You're fake! You're just a machine!'the scientist bursted out screaming. He didn't think twice and lifted the hand gun. BANG! He proved his existence with his own death. Yes, the machine couldn't committe suicide. The real one was all flesh and blood, and a stupid one. 'You could've dismantled the machine to prove it. Stupid.' his lover sobbed. 'But maybe you couldn't bear to distroy your greatest invention...'
13 years later, the prince's brother, now a king, summoned a magician and in the flickering candle light, unveiled the story. 'The throne should have belonged to the prince of monster but his uncle stole it from him.' The uncle was a dispicable man of sin but he received his punishment in the end. He was killed, by the very prince of monster who sold his soul to the devil. 'After his uncle died, I became king although the throne wasn't rightfully mine.' the prince's brother continued. That night, he saw his pitiful monster brother devouring the evil uncle's flesh, crying. 'I can't turn back to a human anymore.' 'Is there really no way? Dear brother?' 'There is, none.' 'I shall come after your queen tomorrow night. Be prepared.' The warning startled the king and he sought advice from the mighty magician. In fairy tales, it is always the Royale who's able to end a devil. You can kill him, or save him. The night had come. The king guarded his queen. 'If you're going to kill her. Eat me first.' 'Why do you protect her? Is it for me or for her?' 'Because, if you eat me, that'll turn you back into a human won't it?' The evil crow once whispered to the prince of monster 'Eat your own brother's flesh. He's the person closest to your heart. Sympathy will turn you back into a human.' If that's the only solution, it's as good as none. Unable to stand the situation any more, the queen lifted the sword and staked it through the prince of monster. 'But a queen can't kill me.' The queen died, after being pushed down the high tower by the crow. The queen was an evil woman who had been plotting along with the prince's uncle, but the king didn't know. First it was his uncle, then the queen. Now the king was safe and it was time to leave. 'Carve your name into my palm, dear brother. I shall never forget you even if I lost my soul and turned into a true monster.' 'You say fairy tales all have happy endings, magician?' 'Yes, for you shall definitely meet him again one day, my king.'
This short story is different from the general theme of the book. It might be viewed as a typical boy love story, nevertheless a sadly touching one. Mizuhara, a white-collar departmental head, starts his day on the toilet bowl, reading newspaper and smoking Marlboro. The toilet thus forever stinks of Marlboro and his lover, one of his staff, resented the stench to death... News of his pregnant wife leaked out. 'The head wants to congratulate you! You're a family man and a good husband now!' his co-workers laughed. Mizuhara is always like this, teasing him and enjoying his reactions. Their relationship also started in a half-joking manner but now he is married, he breaks off clean. Mizuhara always said 'you're the best partner ever. It's the most exciting adventure.' Exciting, he said, not 'I love you.' 'I'm getting married. We'd better end this.' he summoned up his courage, anxious to know what expression Mizuhara would show. That day, Mizuhara smiled and said 'Congratulations!' That bastard. One ordinary day, the sudden news of Mizuhara leaving his job filled the normally quiet department with boiling excitement (and wails from female workers...). 'The head said he's going to New Zealand and never coming back. He bought a big farm there.' He was shocked. He stomped into the meeting room where Mizuhara waited, smoking his Marlboro. 'You can't stop me. Even my own daughter can't stop me. Living on the farm has been my biggest dream.' 'Who says I'm stopping you? I'm just giving you some advice,' he turned his back and sat there in silence, his face a sad picture of parting. 'I won't be able to see you. Even if I do come back, which I never plan to, I won't contact you. I won't be able to see your future daughter and I can't watch you grow as a good husband. Are you lonely?' Muzuhara teased, just like usual. There was a prickling pain. That was the last night they spent together. Next morning, he got up 30 minutes earlier than Mizuhara, locked himself up in the toilet, smoked Marlboro and read the morning news. 'Bastard!! You come out of the toilet, now! I say, NOW!NOW!' outside the anxious Mizuhara lost all his cool and shouted. Bye Bye, Mizuhara. That was the last thing he could do to upset him. 'Until the day we meet again, wait for me.'
Prince of Monster is a collection of all the little bits of fantasies I've gathered since young. It is as if looking at old ugly photographs you've once shoved away and carefully pack them up again and hide them in the deepest corner of your locker. One quiet night, you take out the familar package and deeply inhale, taking in the smell of age, and repeat the action many times and you feel the idealism seeping in. This book is a blend of idealistic perfection with my own little fantasies. Whether vampires, werewolves, or machines, they're all made to be ideal. I wanted to name the book 'Hymn' and put all the short stories under this title because each story is the singing of glory. They say kami-sama (god) comes to you when you're drawing and leaves before you realize it. When I was drawing the first story 'Hymn', I couldn't think of the right phrases and conversations and was put in a deadlock. Somehow I managed and was confused when I looked at it again 'Did I really write those scripts myself?' About 'Prince of Monster', it is a standard fairy tale, albeit filled with cruel reality and horror. I realized that harsh reality was deliberately omitted from fairy tales only when I grow up. What will be the ending of Prince of Monster? Who's going to sacrifice before true happiness comes? You can write it yourself. I've already thought up an ending but I won't tell you! (evil sensei...) I'll be very glad if my readers could send me letters of 'hymn'. Thanks for all your support and I'll see you again on paper next time.
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