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Angels Of Death, #AngelsOfDeath
An Original Fiction By Ozymandias The Mad
Chapter 1:
A Gathering Of Beasts On The Stairway To Heaven!
The Last Step To Heaven Is A Doozy! Mind The Gap!
https://ozymandiasthemad.substack.com/p/angels-of-death-angelsofdeath-an?r=u2uo6&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web

Chapter 1:

A Gathering Of Beasts On The Stairway To Heaven!

The Last Step To Heaven Is A Doozy! Mind The Gap!

In a late summer evening of the late 1950s, some years after the armistice of the Korean War, a secluded traditional Japanese estate controlled by the US government outside of Kyoto plays host to an eclectic meeting of warriors. In a large wood floored room with sliding paper panel doors and bare wood walls, four long coffee tables rest upon large Persian rugs encircling the room, with one on each side, and with various different warriors on meditation cushions behind each of the tables save for one.

One whole set of sliding paper panel doors are swung completely open along one side of the room to allow a clear view of the traditional Japanese garden just outside in the light of a full moon. The only light inside comes from scented candles and exotic incense on stands lit and burning in each of the four corners of the room. Seemingly hosting the affair from the coffee table immediately in front of the opening to the garden, there sits an elderly Japanese man in a black kimono with short white hair and black rimmed glasses. Seated immediately next to him, centered behind the middle of the coffee table, is a middle-aged Caucasian US Air Force general with short salt and pepper hair and the name Gen. Donovan on his uniform.

Seated on the end next to the elderly Japanese man, is a beautiful young Japanese woman with a colorful and flowery kimono, and with a similarly colorful and flowery folding fan, which she holds in front of herself, fanning herself lightly. On the other end of the coffee table next to the general sits the only other woman in the room, with long blonde hair, dressed all in black with a hooded duster, wearing the hood up, with black cat lady sunglasses dark enough to serve as welding goggles, fastened with gold chain around the back of her neck. The dark mistress has another gold chain around her neck with a red crystal bell hanging from it, which she fondles in her hands in front of her, periodically plinking it with her black painted fingernails, much to the annoyance of everyone else in the room.

Seated at the coffee table directly opposite from them and facing them, sits three Asian men with short salt and pepper hair. They all wear uniforms that are just inconspicuous traditional Chinese clothing made of black silk, but they wear red silk sashes diagonally from their left shoulders down to their right hips. They sit locked in a mutual glare contest with the Japanese immediately across from them, while the US general observes disapprovingly, and impatiently taps his fingers on the coffee table in front of him.

At one of the other tables sit four uniformed US military personal, an army colonel accompanied by an army sergeant, and a marine captain with a marine gunnery sergeant. The army colonel is a middle-aged Asian man with the name Col. Park on his uniform. The army sergeant is a younger black man with the name Sgt. Williams. The marine captain is a salt and pepper haired Native American man with the name Cpt. Butler. And the marine gunnery sergeant is a blonde haired blued eyed man with the name GySgt. Rosenbaum.

The fourth table in the room sits unattended with four vacant cushions on the floor behind it, as the tensions between the red sashes and the Japanese in the room boil over. The oldest of the red sashes pulls out a small throwing dagger, then hurls it at the head of the elderly Japanese man across the room. The young Japanese woman next to him swiftly and effortlessly swings her folding fan over in front of her elder’s face and catches the dagger with it.

Then two black clad ninjas drop down onto the deck outside from the roof above, then rush into the room, and take up positions on either side of the table by the opening, with the swords strapped to their backs swiftly drawn at the ready. The gunnery sergeant draws a concealed 45 from inside his uniform jacket, and places it on the table in front of him. The dark mistress with the extra dark cat lady sunglasses decides to chime in with an extremely posh upper-class English accent.

Dark Cat Lady:

Now now… Let us not get carried away wallowing in old grudges… not when the future before us is so promising… One might even be tempted to call it a new world order… But that’s a bit of a cliche at this point… And I’m not so interested in the world… so much as the heavens…

GySgt. Rosenbaum chimes in with a thick Russian accent.

GySgt. Rosenbaum:

Izvinite… But I don’t think that you will find anyone here who is going to heaven… although we may all end up in different hells from the look of things… Perhaps we will only have peace… when we are all separated into our appropriate hells…

Four British military officers walk up to the scene on the deck outside, where they stand behind the dark side cat lady, and take in the tense scene. Two of the British officers are royal marines, a captain with ginger hair named Cpt. Fitsimmons, and a light brown-haired captain named Cpt. Yates. The other two are a pair SAS officers, a salt and pepper haired colonel by the name of Col. Stewart, and an Indian man named Capt. Shiva. Then Col. Stewart chimes in rather casually under the circumstances.

Col. Stewart:

Is there a problem here mum?… Did we come at a bad time?… Because I thought we were on time…

Dark Cat Lady:

You're not!… You’re late!… But it doesn’t matter now… Have a seat gentlemen… Our Japanese and Chinese friends were just about getting over it… Right?… lady and gentlemen?…

Gen. Donovan:

You’re absolutely right my countess!… That’s more than enough Grandmaster Chang!… Not unless you want to try and catch a bullet!… I’m sure that Grandmaster Yamanaka will tell his ninjas to stand down and secure their weapons… Right?…

The elderly Japanese man simply nods his head, and the two ninjas remove the scabbards from their backs and sheath their swords, but they hold them in their scabbards in front of them, standing ready. The young Japanese woman pulls the throwing dagger out of her fan and twirls it in her hand while she glares back at the sender. The eldest of the red sashes responds to the general, as the British slowly move past the ninja and take their seats.

Grandmaster Chang:

Why are we even here?… More blood to be shed in Viet Nam?… Still without any of it on your hands?… as least not officially… not yet… Why does your interest in Viet Nam require us to mix with them?… of all people?… and here of all places?…

Gen. Donovan:

This isn’t about Viet Nam… This is about something much bigger than that… Something that requires all of you… and then some… My countess… If you would please explain… now that we’re all here…

Col. Park:

Countess?… Dr. Daedalus?… I knew that wasn’t your real name… It was just too much… But I had no idea that you were such an aristocrat…

Dr. Daedalus:

I used to be one John… a long time ago… But I still like the sound of it… My real name is of no consequence… not even to me… But if you like… you can use my favorite nickname… It’s quite famous to some… You may call me… the Blood Countess… or just my countess if you prefer…

Cpt. Butler:

You talk like some sort of bruja… Are you a witch doctor Blood Countess?…

Dr. Daedalus:

Perhaps…

Dr. Daedalus holds her crystal bell charm in one of her hands and flicks it with a brush of her other hand, causing it to ring out again, puzzling her audience as she stands up and walks over to the center of the room.

Dr. Daedalus:

Some of you already know me by my research pseudonym… a necessary precaution that people like me must use for discretion in our position… I am one of those people who arrange for all of your training and grooming as dealers of death… controlling politicians that authorize programs… brokers that assign hits… even cults that serve the interests of death… even when they don’t explicitly worship it… But that will soon all be a thing of the past…

Dr. Daedalus flicks her bell again. And Master Chang, Master Yamanaka, Col. Park, Cpt. Butler, and the young Japanese woman grow increasingly puzzled at Dr. Daedalus’ strange bell ringing, as if they sense something amiss.

Dr. Daedalus:

I’m a scientist… and something of a bruja… more of an alchemist to be honest… I’m far older than I look… And I have in mind a special program of human development… for only the most elite of the elite… to become even more elite… perhaps even to become gods… or at least… fit to storm the heavens…

Sgt. Williams:

That’s an awfully blasphemous amount of hubris you’ve got going on there doc…

Dr. Daedalus:

Hyperbole perhaps… But to have the power to kill is to have the power over both life and death… the power to choose your life and the death of your enemies… It is a small advantage over your fellow man that can nonetheless make all the difference… like with your mentor Col. Park… trained in Hwa Rang Do… or with the Krav Maga of GySgt. Rosenbaum… numerous varieties of Shaolin or Wudang traditions… or any of a number of varieties of Jujitsu and the traditional samurai ryus… not to mention our esteemed hosts… courtesy of the Yamanaka Clan’s Hoshikageryu Ninjutsu… And modern military training provides a mastery of mechanical methods of mass death… without losing the brutal hand to hand reality… Whether you like it or not… whether you accept it or not… You are all effectively gods already… compared to your fellow humans…

Dr. Daedalus flicks her crystal bell again, and the young Japanese woman grows slightly irritated at the sound, while everyone else but her, Dr. Daedalus, Gen. Donovan, all grow slightly tired and drowsy.

Dr. Daedalus:

Between my considerable scientific expertise… and a deep grounding in the traditional medicine of various cultures… I have developed a program to maximize human potential in every respect… But not for just anyone…

Dr. Daedalus flicks her bell again, and the ninja drop down to their knees, still clutching their swords in their scabbards.

Dr. Daedalus:

Only the most elite warriors will do… warriors who have already slaved and suffered to maximize and harness their power by whatever means they can… and have already well demonstrated their power of death… But of course… they can be so willful and stubborn in their ways as a result…

Dr. Daedalus flicks her bell again, and all of the military officers, except for Gen. Donovan pass out, along with all the red sashes, Master Yamanaka, and one of the two ninja. The young Japanese woman remains awake and alert, but her fan begins to shake in her hand. The ninja on his knees next to her remains awake and alert but with trembling hands clutching his sword and scabbard, as if struggling to move.

Dr. Daedalus:

You two seem especially stubborn… Don’t you?…

The young Japanese woman and the ninja both move at the same time. The young Japanese woman leaps over the coffee table in front of her to land on the floor in front of Dr. Daedalus. The ninja stops shaking and draws his sword, then leaps onto the coffee table with his sword poised to strike downward at Dr. Daedalus. Then Dr. Daedalus flicks her bell again, and the young Japanese woman and her ninja both freeze perfectly still, as Gen. Donovan just sits and calmly observes. The ninja drops his sword right out of his hands, without being able to move or even close his eyes otherwise.

Young Japanese Woman:

Kenji!?!…

Dr. Daedalus:

Kenji?… Is he a friend of yours?… Answer me…

Dr. Daedalus flicks her bell again, and the young Japanese woman drops her fan and the dagger onto the floor, as she drops to her knees in front of Dr. Daedalus.

Young Japanese Woman:

He… He is my husband…

Dr. Daedalus:

Husband?… How excellent!… What a lovely family of killers you have… Or perhaps I shouldn’t assume… Remove your mask ninja… Imada!…

The ninja removes his mask with trembling hands as he struggles in vain to resist.

Dr. Daedalus:

Excellent!… You are a lovely family of killers!… And what is your name lovely lady?…

Young Japanese Woman:

Aiyumei desu!… Yamanaka Aiyumei desu…

Dr. Daedalus:

Aiyumei… That’s such a lovely name… Are you related to Grandmaster Yamanaka directly?… Or are you just another member of the clan?…

Yamanaka Aiyumei:

Grandmaster Yamanaka… is my grandfather…

Dr. Daedalus:

Fantastic… a veritable heritage of death… Are there any further generations to this legacy yet?… Answer…

Yamanaka Aiyumei:

We… We have a daughter…

Dr. Daedalus:

A daughter?… I love little girls!… I hate boys!… Don’t you?… They’re all snakes and snails and puppy dog tails… they can be such gross things sometimes… as fun as that may be from time to time… We’ll just have to pay your daughter a visit… I can’t leave a lose end like that behind… not after depriving her of her parents… Don’t worry… I’ll be sure to take good care of her…

Dr. Daedalus turns towards Kenji still frozen and standing on the table, and she raises her hand up in his direction, and then down again, as if directing him downward.

Dr. Daedalus:

Sleep…

Kenji closes his eyes and drops limp like a sack of potatoes onto the top of the table.

Yamanaka Aiyumei:

Kenji!?!…

Dr. Daedalus:

Hush now…

Dr. Daedalus flicks her bell again.

Dr. Daedalus:

Stand up and come closure to me… And let me get a good close look at you…

Aiyumei stands up and walks closer to Dr. Daedalus until she stands inches away from her, looking up at her and staring intently as she trembles slightly. Dr. Daedalus pulls back her hood and removes and lowers her extra dark cat lady shades, which then dangle attached to a gold chain behind her neck. This reveals her green eyes and thick black eyeliner underneath, as she gazes back down at Aiyumei’s face.

Dr. Daedalus:

Gen. Donovan… It’s time to prepare the subjects…

Gen. Donovan:

Yes… My countess…

Gen. Donovan gets up and steps outside onto the deck, and he motions to someone concealed outside. Then a small army of dark-haired female nurses in white nurses’ uniforms begin to file in from the deck and prepare to remove the unconscious subjects, wearing white ceramic full face masks with painted faces and no holes for the eyes nose or mouth.

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