Akayuki (Red Snow)—Missing Scene

Warning: The following contains violence. Reader discretion is advised.

Author’s Note: I found this and decided to share. It’s written in Michael’s point of view. It occurs before Michael (The Masked Ronin) kills Mixter. The Japanese honorific “hime” means princess. And, no, the character at the end is not Ben Tramer. I’m not pulling a “Halloween II” (1981) or a “Halloween Ends” because it’s not Corey Cunningham, either. It’s someone from the “Chucky” universe. Also, the Chucky in the flashback is human Chucky, not doll Chucky.

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fan fiction. It is meant for entertainment purposes only. Any resemblance to actual persons living or deceased is purely coincidental.

~o~

No! Stop! Please don’t hurt her! Please!

“Michael?”

I look at her. The Akayuki princess. 

“Michael,” she repeats, like my name is a magic spell, but it’s more of a curse because once she utters it, I have to obey. I have to do whatever she says. “What’s wrong? You look sad.”

It’s nothing. Nothing I wish to share with you, hime.

I shake my head because I cannot speak.

I cannot speak to her or anyone else because…

I can smell the fire burning the house down, cremating the bodies inside. The bodies of my beloved and our unborn child.

I can’t tell Nica this. I can’t tell her anything. I don’t want her to know. About me and my ghosts.

But…I can’t escape them. No more than I can escape the one responsible for the tragedy.

“Michael, please,” she begs. “Here.” She lifts the tatami mat by her futon and withdraws paper, a brush, and a bottle of ink. She offers the items to me. “Write down what you need.” She bites her lower lip. “Do you know how to write?”

A little. 

All I can do is nod. 

I pick up the brush, pull the stopper out of the bottle of ink, and I try to write something. I don’t know where to start. The story is too long and I’m not sure I know how to write all the words. So I choose the person who connects her with my past.  

Chucky, I write, and that is all I write because the act of writing out his name has... 

“Kill her.”

“No! Please, don’t hurt her.”

“Not me, bro. You. See, you’ve got the look of a killer in you. You’ve been holding back. Why? Because of her!”

And he kicked Annie’s pregnant belly.

“No!”

“Annie!”

 

“Michael!”

“Shh! Hush.” He squatted beside Annie. He brushed a piece of hair out of her face. “Annie, was it?”

“Don’t touch her.” I try to reach her, but someone plants their foot on the small of my back and I can’t rise.

“Please don’t hurt my baby,” Annie begs him.

“Oh? What’s this? She’s carrying a kid?” He looks back at me. “Yours?”

I nod. 

“No, bro.” He shakes his head. “You can’t have a family. Families only hold you back, and from what I heard, you didn’t have too much love for your family back in Haddonfield. Remember? You killed every single one of them, didn’t you?”

“Shut your mouth and let her go.”

“I’m not going to kill her, bro.“ He rises. “You are. Let him up.” 

The foot leaves my back and I’m able to stand. 

“Here.“ He hands me my katana. “Take this. Kill her or I’ll kill her. Either way, the woman and the baby die. Consider it punishment for running away from the truth, bro. The truth that you. Are. A. Killer.”

I drop the brush onto the paper, not caring about the black smudge where the two make contact. I withdraw from Nica, my hands covering my face as a horrible sound escapes my ruined throat—it is a sound somewhere between a cry of pain and a scream of rage.

“Michael!” Nica cries out.  

The bodyguard in me turns to her because she is afraid and I have to make sure there’s no threat to her in the room. We’re alone. She’s distressed. She reaches out a hand to me and before I can stop I’ve clasped her against me. She tenses against me at first before relaxing and putting her arms around me. 

“Michael,” Nica whispers when I break away. 

Annie, I think. Forgive me. 

I retreat to the safety of the room’s shadows, my back to Nica. 

I have to kill tonight. Killing is the only way to escape the pain.

“Michael,” Nica says. 

I don’t look back. 

“Whatever is bothering you…”

Don’t, hime. You could never understand.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” she finishes.

You don’t understand, hime.

“I’m going to bed now,” she announces. 

Good. Go to sleep, hime.

“Help me.”

I smile.

In the privacy of the shadows of her bedroom, I rise before she can ask me twice.

I leave my katana propped against the wall.

She waits for me on her futon.

I lift her legs first before pulling back the covers.

Then I stretch out her legs and cover them.

I bring the covers up to her waist.

She smiles at me when our eyes meet.

“Good-night, Michael.”

I nod. Good-night, hime.

I rise from her bedside. 

“Leave a candle burning, please” is her final order.

I nod then go around the room extinguishing the candles.

I leave the candle between my corner and her futon burning.

She lies on the futon, lifting her head once to ask me, “Are you comfortable?”

I’m back in my corner.

I nod my head.

Satisfied, she rests her head on her pillow.

“Tomorrow,” she says. “I want to…”

The alarm clangs throughout the compound.

I spring up, katana in my hand.

Nica is sitting up on the futon.

“What’s happening?”

I have no idea.

Worse, I can’t leave her to find out.

Nica covers her ears as the alarm continues clanging.

“Make it stop,” she complains.

I can’t, hime. 

I crouch by her bedside, uncover her ears, hold her hands in mine, and…

the alarm stops.

Footsteps in the hall.

I release Nica, rise, draw my sword, wait…

The door slides back.

Ren. She pants from the run.

“Nica-sama! The Masked Ronin!”

I tighten my grip on my sword.

“What, Ren?” Nica asks.

Ren grins.

“We got him.”

I prepare to attack.

“What do you mean?” Nica asks.

“Our guards killed the Masked Ronin just now.”

I relax my stance.

Nica exchanges a look with me.

“Take me to see the body,” she orders.

I carry Nica to the courtyard.

The three elders are already assembled.

The body of the Masked Ronin lies before them.

His white Devil mask still covers his face.

The elders look back when we approach.

“Nica-sama,” Mixter says.

She is always the first to speak.

“Is that him?” Nica asks.

She rests in my arms like a bride.

The elders notice and frown.

“You are too delicate to witness this, Nica-sama.”

“I’m fine, Mixter-san. I’ve seen my share of corpses before.”

“This doesn’t concern you, Nica-sama.”  Foley turns his attention to me. “Return Nica-sama to her room.”

“Michael,” Nica says. “Set me down.”

“Nica-sama, you are to return to your room.” Mixter glares at me. 

“Michael, set me down,” Nica repeats. 

Mixter and Foley scowl at me.

Frank, though. He nods, and I set Nica on the floor.

“What do you think you are doing, Nica-sama?” Mixter is trembling with fury.

“Michael, unmask the body,” Nica orders.

“You have gone too far, Nica-sama.”

“I wish to see the Masked Ronin’s face, Mixter-san.”

Nica nods for me to proceed.

I nod to the elders before stepping around them.

Kneeling by the body, I lift the mask.

Mixter gasps when she glimpses the young man’s face.

Nica peeks around the elders’ legs, and…

“NO!” she screams. 

“Take Nica-sama back to her room,” Foley orders me.

I return the mask to the corpse’s face and rise.

Nica continues to sob as I scoop her up and carry her back to her room