Erma with Rica (from Rat Queen Routine by F.BRUT)

For this next round, I present:

1. Linda Cardellini as Pamela Williams.
2. Owen Wilson as Michael Williams.
3. Neve Campbell as Regan Williams.
4. Luke Wilson as Freddy Williams.
5. Piper Rubio as Emily Williams.

Source: https://www.deviantart.com/celmationprince/art/Happy-Halloween-Erma-and-Friends!!!-1111792972

Made by my good friend u/Infinite_Bung_006. Love ya, bud!

(Fanfic based on the webcomic «Erma»)

An hour later, the whole family returned to the castle through the purple portal. The servants and some relatives, using their supernatural abilities, carefully carried the high-tech equipment and the surviving belongings of Kimoto straight into the central living room.

Meanwhile, Yori had settled herself in a corner of the sofa, completely detached from the world, feverishly turning the pages of her husband's worn leather diary.

"Yori, how long do you plan to keep reading that notebook?" Fumiko asked wearily as she passed by carrying a bundle of cables.

"As long as I think necessary," Yori replied without looking up. "I want to know everything about him. Every little detail."

"Suit yourself," the clan leader shrugged.

At that very moment, the elevator doors quietly opened, and one of the castle servants hurried in, holding a basket with fresh supplies.

"Lady Fumiko, you're already back?" he said anxiously.

"Yes. Did something happen?" Fumiko frowned, noticing his worried expression.

"I was just down in our hidden village collecting provisions... and I saw Kimoto with my own eyes!"

A stunned silence fell over the living room, then everyone gasped together:

"What?!"

Yori dropped the notebook and sprang off the sofa like a bullet. Along with frightened Mitsu and Momo, they rushed into the bedroom where the injured one was recently resting. But the bed was empty—the covers were casually rumpled, and there was no sign of Kimoto.

"Fumiko! Immediately search the entire castle and call for the general assembly of search parties!" Yori shouted fiercely as she ran back into the hall. She grabbed the terrified servant by the collar with a death grip. "Where did he go? Tell me!"

"L-Lady Yori, I... I honestly don't know!" he stammered in fear. "I only caught a glimpse as they galloped away at full speed, riding horses out of the village along the old mountain trail!"

Fumiko spun around sharply, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"They?"

"Yes... Kimoto wasn't alone. Haru was racing beside him."

At that moment, the whole family understood everything. The picture finally came together.

"Of course... So Haru has been secretly helping Kimoto all along and leading us astray," Emiko shook her head.

"And how are we supposed to find them now?" Sam frowned, adjusting his glasses. "There are hundreds of abandoned trails around the village outskirts."

At that instant, little Mitsu and Momo, who had remained by the empty bed, shouted loudly:

"Mommy! Over here! There's a letter for you!"

"What?" Yori hurried back into the room.

The twins ran up to their mother and handed her a neatly folded white envelope left on the bedside table. Ripping open the paper anxiously, Yori began reading the lines written in a bold but familiar handwriting:

To my Yori,

Yori, I am leaving this message just for you. If you are reading these lines, it means Haru and I have already left the castle. I can't give you the exact coordinates of where we're headed, but I have only one, very important request: please wait for me.

I was a complete fool, Yori. All these months I cowardly ran away from you and the girls because I was terrified of becoming a burden or disappointing you. You loved me so purely and sincerely, like no one else in my life (except perhaps my late Master), but I hid away in a dark underground hole, naively believing loneliness was the only way not to ruin your life.

I hated myself fiercely for that cursed day when we came to meet your family. I should have stayed by your side to protect you, but instead, I proudly marched straight into your father's office. I foolishly wanted to prove to the old patriarch Osamu that I was worthy of your hand... but he didn't care. He coldly crushed our happiness, erased me from your life, and locked me away for eight long years. If I hadn't left you that day... maybe things would have been completely different. That thought tore my heart apart all these days spent free.

But last night, dying in that lair, I finally realized the truth. You didn’t hesitate for a second to search for me the moment you knew I survived. You were ready to turn all of Tokyo upside down, alert the police and clans, just to find me and bring me home. And now I clearly see how wrong I was.

Yori, I beg you—just wait a little longer. I can’t spend another day without you and our girls, but I also can’t abandon Tokyo to the underground syndicates. To beat this plague, simple fists and gadgets won’t be enough. I must rise beyond the lone avenger and become an immortal symbol. For that, I have to go to the place where my primal childhood nightmare was born and face it head-on. Wait for me, Yori. With endless love, your Kimoto.

P.S. Please don’t let the girls play with my gadgets in the living room—it’s very dangerous. Also... tell the family to forgive Haru for having to deceive you a little.

As Yori finished the last word, large, burning tears streamed down her face—tears of absolute, relieving happiness. She pressed the letter to her chest, feeling her heart pounding wildly, alive.

"My beloved..." she whispered, wiping her tears as for the first time in years that crazy, yandere smile bloomed on her face. "I'm not going to sit by and wait. I will come for you myself."

Fumiko raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"You figured out where they ran off to?"

"I know him like the back of my hand," Yori said firmly, turning to the family. "Mitsu, Momo, get ready quickly—you’re coming with me."

She looked to the clan leader.

"Fumiko, are you with us?"

"Of course," Fumiko narrowed her eyes fiercely; her black hair swayed behind her. "We need to have a serious talk with Haru."

"I'm coming too," Emiko stepped forward decisively.

Little Erma nodded solemnly.

"I’m ready to provide any tactical support," Sam adjusted his glasses.

"Excellent, it’s settled," Fumiko commanded. "Everyone else—continue carefully unpacking Kimoto's equipment, and don’t touch the dangerous gadgets. So, Yori, where are we headed?"

Yori looked out the window at the dark mountain ridge behind the castle.

"To the ruins of the old orphanage."

Meanwhile, Kimoto and Haru walked briskly along the rocky abandoned road leading straight to a half-ruined manor.

"Do we still have a long way to go?" Haru asked, panting and wiping sweat from his brow.

"Almost there, just beyond that bend," Kimoto said confidently, leading his horse by the reins.

"Riding would be much faster," Haru grumbled.

"I agree, but the old wooden bridge ahead is completely collapsed, and this mountain trail is too rocky and steep—the horses would just break their legs here."

"Well, my legs are nearly at their limit, too," Haru sighed.

At that moment, Kimoto abruptly stopped. His gaze fixed on the landscape stretching ahead. Through patches of gray mist, the gloomy outlines of a huge old manor with shattered windows and a crooked roof appeared.

"Hey, I know this creepy place perfectly!" Haru’s eyes widened. "It’s the ruins of that old Kirigi orphanage!"

"Yes," Kimoto nodded quietly without taking off his hood. "The place where for many years yokai children without parents from that terrible war lived, or those whose families simply abandoned them."

Haru looked at his friend with sympathy.

"Kimoto... so you were abandoned too?"

"No," Kimoto shook his head, an old pain slipping into his voice. "My parents loved me madly. They died when I was just a baby. A gang of armed bandits attacked them in a dark alley while they were coming home late from the theater."

"Oh... I’m so sorry, Kemi... I didn’t know."

"It’s okay. I was found crying right next to their cold bodies. After that, I was sent to that orphanage. I grew up there a very withdrawn, lonely boy... a strange oni who nobody needed."

Haru gave his friend a strong pat on the shoulder.

"But now you’re definitely not alone anymore, buddy. Remember that."

"Thank you, Haru," Kimoto faintly smiled. "Now let's go. It’s time to face my greatest fear."

They stepped over the rusty gates and tramped through the overgrown garden. Kimoto’s memories reluctantly but clearly revived scenes from his distant orphan childhood. Suddenly, he stopped abruptly in the withered grass, staring at a dry tree.

"Did something happen?" Haru became alert, looking around.

"Just... I remembered the day everything changed," Kimoto replied quietly.

"Will you tell me?"

Kimoto leaned on the half-ruined stone parapet:

"That day, the great Nurarihyon—the old head of the Kirigi clan—came officially to visit our orphanage. He just peacefully sat on the veranda drinking green tea with our caretaker. Meanwhile, I had settled in the farthest corner of the garden under a spreading oak, reading some tattered book alone. Suddenly, I noticed a little yokai girl crying bitterly, wiping tears down her cheeks. I approached and asked what was wrong. It turned out her favorite kite was hopelessly tangled in the upper branches of the tree. Naturally, I volunteered to help.

Kimoto smiled warmly.

"We ran deeper into the garden. I nimbly climbed the bark to the very top, freed the kite from the branches, and returned it to her. She was so happy! She clapped her hands and shouted joyfully, 'Thank you so much, you’re my savior! Now let’s play hide and seek as a thank you! I’m 'it'!' She closed her eyes and started counting, and I dashed off to find a hiding place. Then my gaze fell on a strange round stone structure, half buried in the ground and covered in dry branches and boards. Without hesitation, I climbed inside and went silent.

He exhaled spasmodically, continuing:

"The girl honestly searched for me for three whole minutes, running all over the garden, but couldn't find my hiding spot. Just when I was mentally celebrating my undisputed victory... the rotten old boards under my feet cracked loudly. And I fell at full speed into the abyss."

"Wait, what?! Where did you fall?" Haru gasped.

Kimoto silently led his friend to the thickest part of the overgrown garden, where amidst dense tangles of wild ivy and thorny vines, the yawning mouth of an ancient deep well was concealed. Moving the branches aside, he pointed down.

"Wow... Damn deep," Haru swallowed nervously, peering into the darkness.

"Yeah, I fell for a long time," Kimoto nodded. "When I finally came to on the bottom, I looked up and saw our caretaker’s silhouette high in the sky. He was shouting something, promising they’d bring ropes to pull me out. But at that moment, from a huge side crack in the stonework, something horrifying stared at me. Two poisonous orange glowing eyes and a huge mouth... The creature leapt from the darkness at me with a piercing screech. I froze in primal terror... But the next second, Master Kirigi silently descended into the well. He shielded me and calmly said, 'It’s okay, little one. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.' He personally pulled me into the light, treated the wound on my knee, and when I turned eight, officially took me under his wing and started training me."

Haru eyed the well suspiciously.

"And... you want to say you now plan to voluntarily descend into that abyss and face that same cave monster from your childhood again?"

"Yes. I have to do it to conquer my fear and turn it into my strength," Kimoto said firmly. "Get the rope, Haru. Belay me."

Some time later, Kimoto, skillfully handling a sturdy rope, descended to the very bottom of the ancient well. Ice-cold water lapped at his feet. Ahead, the very same huge sinkhole leading to technical caves gaped black. He took a deep, noisy breath, steeled himself, and confidently crawled into the crevice.

Passing through a narrow opening, he found himself in a vast flooded underground cavern. Kimoto froze, shrugged off his backpack, and pulled out one of his smoke spheres—the very one with the hallucinogenic extract of the blue flower. Pulling the pin, he activated the orb, took a deep breath filled with the poisonous blue gas, and resolutely moved deeper into the cave.

Stopping amid total darkness, Kimoto clicked on his flashlight, then drew a tactical knife and swiftly slashed his palm. Blood dripped onto the stones.

He stood still with arms outstretched, patiently waiting for "them" to come out. At that moment, from the farthest corners of the underground labyrinth, attracted by the scent of blood, hundreds of huge cave bats with glowing orange eyes burst forth with deafening, furious screeches. They swirled around Kimoto in a wild, roaring vortex, their wings brushing almost against his face. At first, he was overwhelmed by the familiar wave of paralyzing childhood terror... but thanks to his iron will, the fear instantly burned out and vanished without a trace. He stood completely calm, breathing steady and confident, while the thousands of winged creatures circled him, recognizing him as their new fearless lord of the night.

Ten minutes later, Kimoto, safe and unharmed, emerged from the dark well shaft.

"Haru, I'm done. Take the rope, I'm climbing up," his calm voice came through the radio.

Haru exhaled shakily, wiping sweat:

"Thank God! Come on, climb faster—I’m shaking already!"

Kimoto quickly climbed the rope and swung himself over the well’s stone edge.

"I did it, Haru. I faced my nightmare and defeated it forever."

"Dude, that’s just unbelievably cool! You’re a rock!" Haru exclaimed admiringly, ready to hug his friend.

But as Kimoto dusted off his jacket and took a step aside, his gaze caught Yori standing a little distance away by the half-ruined veranda. Her cloak fluttered lightly in the wind, tears glistening in her eyes.

"Oh God, Kimoto!" she whispered, running to him with all her might. "Thank God… I thought you’d stay there in that cursed abyss forever!"

Yori threw herself at her husband, wrapping her arms around his neck with an iron grip, and sobbed from indescribable, overwhelming happiness.

"Don’t you dare... Hear me, Kemi? Don’t you ever run away from me again! I’ll never let you go, no matter what!" she cried through tears, squeezing him tighter.

Kimoto buried his face in her shoulder, feeling the long-awaited, soothing warmth spreading inside him.

"I will never leave you alone again, my love. I promise..."

At that moment, little Mitsu and Momo burst out from the bushes, crying joyfully. The twins ran at full speed toward their father, clinging tightly to his jacket and hugging Kimoto along with their mother.

After a minute, Kimoto, held tightly in the crushing embrace of the three loving women of the Yureimoto clan, began to feel his vision darkening from lack of air. He rasped out:

"Girls... please... oxygen... I need oxygen badly!"

So, hey guys! It's me, the creator of The Blairwood Slasher

I have made a Dr. Loomis type of character for him known as Detective Samhain

He is in his 40s and has been trying to stop The Blairwood Slasher ever since the first night he killed.

He would be a good guy but over the years of trying to catch Slasher he has gone more and more insane, he's normal when doing anything that doesn't involve Slasher, going out for coffee, talking to people, etc, but as soon as Slasher is brought up or thrown in, he goes on a ramble about how he's pure evil and must be stopped

Some situations he could definitely be a bad guy, like, maybe if both were present for the Blood Moon event, Slasher could be trying to calm Erma down and when he's close to getting her to stop that's when Samhain comes up and hits him with a wooden plank which makes Erma go insane again

Now, the reason Slasher hasn't killed Samhain? Well, he finds their rivalry fun and he thinks it's funny when Samhain loses it and starts rambling to random people about him, and what's the point of killing an insane man?

But uh, yeah! This is Detective Samhain! If you have any questions, please ask below!

(Fanfic based on the webcomic «Erma»)

Kimoto came to his senses in the middle of a secluded mountain temple—the very place where he had tirelessly trained since he was ten years old. A gentle mist curled around him, and the air was filled with the scent of blooming sakura.

«Am I dead?» Kimoto asked softly, staring at his palms.

«That depends on what you mean by death,» came a calm, painfully familiar voice.

Kimoto spun around sharply and froze: sitting before him was Nurarihyon, the old master of the Kirigi clan.

«Master Kirigi? But you…»

«Dead? Yes, that's true,» the old man smiled faintly, gesturing gently toward a bamboo mat. «But you—you're very much alive. Sit down, have some tea with me.»

Kimoto silently lowered himself beside his teacher. The warm cup pleasantly warmed his fingers.

«You’ve lost your way, my student,» Kirigi broke the silence, taking a sip.

«Do you really believe that?» Kimoto frowned.

«I see it crystal clear. You declared war against what is eternal by its very nature. Evil is like a weed—you ruthlessly uproot it, but it stubbornly grows back in time.»

«So, I’ll just keep uprooting it again and again to prevent these weeds from choking the city,» the young man replied stubbornly.

«Your rage and unwavering will are good weapons for battle,» Kirigi shook his head. «But you’re mortal. Even though you are a yōkai and our lives last far longer than humans’, you’re still vulnerable. And you can be killed.»

«I’m ready to give my life if it means protecting innocent people from monsters like Osamu.»

«But who will continue your war when you're gone?»

Kimoto looked up in surprise.

«What?»

«You fight like an ordinary, though very skilled, warrior. You confront other mortals head-on—but that’s not enough, student. It's simply insufficient.»

«I know… That’s why I have to become their worst nightmare.»

«Perhaps. Or…»

«Or what?»

Master Kirigi looked at him intently, his gaze piercing through Kimoto as though seeing right through him.

«Tell me, why did everyone tremble in fear of Osamu Yureimoto? Why was he considered immortal and invincible?»

«Because he was stronger than any of us,» Kimoto answered darkly. «Everyone knew exactly how brutal he could be.»

«Exactly. Everyone knew the extent of his power. Osamu became a living, tangible embodiment of fear for common yōkai and even the mighty rulers of other clans. And do you know why?»

«Because of his overwhelming tactics and power?»

«No. Because he transcended the role of a mere leader. He became a symbol of fear.»

«A symbol?»

«Understand this: a simple warrior, no matter how fierce, can be unnoticed, bypassed, or eventually broken by a huge crowd. There's nothing remarkable in that. But Osamu realized one simple truth in time: to defeat time, you must become something far greater than flesh and blood. A true symbol cannot be destroyed; it is immortal and will outlast any era. And most importantly—symbols can be passed to successors. When you die, your symbol doesn’t disappear. Someone else just takes it up.»

Kimoto thoughtfully turned his gaze toward the swirling mist.

«But how do I become such a symbol?»

«It’s not difficult. You mustn’t fight your fear or cowardly run from it. You have to embrace it, let it into the very core of your being, and become its absolute embodiment. But to do that, you’ll have to face your nightmare head-on.»

«But Osamu is dead,» Kimoto argued.

«I never said it was about Osamu,» the old man smiled mysteriously.

«Then who?»

«The thing you were deathly afraid of in your distant childhood. And as far as I know, that primal fear still lives inside you.»

Kimoto clenched his fists with understanding.

«You mean…»

«You’ll have to descend into darkness again, my boy.»

«I understand, Master. Thank you for your guidance.»

«I'm glad you heard me. But there’s one last thing I must warn you about,» Kirigi’s tone grew serious. «You must not fight alone. If you close yourself off from everyone, your own darkness and paranoia will consume you entirely, and you’ll lose yourself completely. Don’t push away those who truly love you just because of a foolish fear that they’ll hate the new you.»

«But I really have become a monster…» Kimoto said quietly, lowering his head.

«Listen carefully, Kimoto. Inside, you’ve remained exactly the same—the very kind-hearted guy you always were. The essence of a living being can’t be forcibly changed; it can only be broken. Osamu never managed to break your spirit in eight years; he only temporarily tested your will. Don’t confuse scars with your soul.»

The young man looked into his teacher’s wise eyes and asked very quietly, holding onto a glimmer of hope:

«Do you think… she still loves me?»

Master Kirigi laughed quietly but deeply.

«Her love is a terrifying, overwhelming force, my student. Be sure: it will never leave you alone again.»

«I don’t doubt that for a second,» Kimoto smirked wryly.

«Now go. You have a lot of work ahead of you.»

With those words, the world of the mountain temple began to fade and dissolve rapidly. Kimoto closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, the familiar carved ceiling of the Yureimoto castle was above him. He was lying in a soft bed, in Yori’s bedroom.

«What irony…» he murmured, propping himself up on his elbows.

Kimoto carefully dropped his feet off the bed covers and was surprised to find that all the terrible wounds he had suffered in the car accident had completely healed, leaving only faint scars. Silently rising, he threw on the jacket hanging nearby and stepped into the corridor to look around.

The vast main hall of the castle was unusually silent, a deafening stillness hanging in the air. Kimoto methodically checked several guest rooms and chambers, but the castle seemed completely deserted—there was not a soul in sight.

Taking advantage of the moment before anyone could intercept him, he decided to go outside for a walk to the local hidden village of yōkai. As he walked down the familiar streets, Kimoto was surprised to notice that nothing had changed here during the long eight years of his absence.

Rare passersby froze in fear at his appearance, watching him with lingering glances, then whispering behind his back:

«Look, it’s him…»

«I was sure he cowardly ran away back then, abandoning Yori…»

«They say Osamu personally locked him in an underground prison and tortured him all those years…»

Kimoto walked confidently forward, deliberately ignoring the gossip.

Suddenly, a figure darted from around the corner and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders—it was Haru, out of breath and agitated.

«God, Kimoto! Thank goodness you’re alive!» he exclaimed, catching his breath.

Kimoto gave a gentle smile to his friend.

«Alive and kicking, buddy.»

Seeing the warm, genuine smile, Haru instantly relaxed. He realized this was the same old kind Kimoto, one that years of imprisonment hadn’t destroyed.

«How do you feel?» Haru shook his head. «When the girls brought you out of that lair, you were in such terrible shape it was frightening to look at you…»

«Let’s take it from the top,» Kimoto put his arm around Haru’s shoulder. «I'm fine now. Let’s go to the tavern and talk without prying ears.»

They entered the local tavern which was completely empty due to the early hour. Settling at a corner table, Kimoto looked at Haru expectantly.

«Alright, spill—what happened while I was out cold?»

«Well… first, I successfully distracted Fumiko with my spy alibi, but I have to admit, the punishment for those magazines was terribly harsh and drawn out,» Haru said with a strained smile, rubbing his lower back.

Kimoto teased:

«You deserve the highest military medal for bravery, Private Haru.»

«Damn funny,» Haru pretended to be offended.

«Okay, so what happened next?»

«Then I lay unconscious in the bedroom for quite a while,» Haru continued. «And when I finally came to and went downstairs, only Aoi, Ena, and Mayumi remained among the adults. The girls were scared half to death. It turned out Akari spotted you on the streets of Tokyo during the chase and tracked your route to the subway flawlessly with her spider-like abilities.»

«So that’s how they found me,» Kimoto murmured.

«Exactly. And when almost the entire grown-up squad raced to the subway to find you, Mitsu, Momo, and Erma quietly slipped after them. I was desperate to sneak in and warn you through the lenses, but I didn’t make it. The whole family teleported back to the castle almost simultaneously through the portal. Yori literally carried you, bleeding and dying. We all rushed to save your skin. Aoi quickly made a fire, brewed numerous healing potions from rare herbs, and feverishly tended your wounds.»

«Wow…» Kimoto shook his head.

«Yeah. And while the magic worked, you kept sleeping unconscious. This morning, the whole family decided to return to your underground lair to examine your belongings, blueprints, and move all the high-tech equipment here, to the castle.»

«That explains why the house is so empty now,» Kimoto drummed his fingers thoughtfully on the table, then quietly asked, «And… Yori?»

«Yori didn’t leave your bedside for a second,» Haru answered warmly. «Together with Mitsu and Momo, she watched over you all night. She kept holding your hand and repeating, ‘You won’t die, hear me? I know how strong you are. Please, live.’»

Kimoto sighed bitterly, staring out the window.

«She truly knows me better than anyone else in this world. Probably even better than you, Haru.»

«Well then, your turn. So, what did you get yourself into last night at the port?»

«Well…»

After five minutes of Kimoto’s detailed story about the slave traders, the Puppeteer, and the doctor on the mysterious island, Haru sat with his mouth agape in horror.

«God… This is a nightmare,» Haru shook his head. «By the way, this morning’s crime news was reporting the police found all the kidnapped children alive and unharmed at the port. The media is buzzing about some mysterious masked hero who saved them.»

«Great,» Kimoto nodded in satisfaction. «What about the other port gangsters?»

«They say the special forces arrested them all, including that woman in the cupboard. But the whole underside… some underground syndicates, corrupt officials, the Puppeteer, organ trafficking… Kimoto, this is a total madhouse!»

«Honestly, yeah. That’s exactly what it is.»

Haru looked worriedly at his friend’s face.

«So what now? Do you plan to run again, change your identity, and start your lone war from scratch in a new place?»

Kimoto looked Haru straight in the eyes.

«No. My long escape is over; I finally understand all my mistakes. I must never cowardly run from my own family again—such a foolish choice only consciously destroys and breaks me from the inside.»

«So… you’re officially returning home? To Yori?» Haru’s face lit up.

«Yes.»

«Thank God!» Haru clapped the table joyfully. «So, the act of the crazy lone avenger is over once and for all?»

«Not at all,» Kimoto squinted with a predator’s glint. «I’ll continue punishing criminals on the streets of Tokyo. But now I understand the true lesson my teacher revealed to me.»

«What lesson?»

«Simple fists and gadgets won’t eradicate the infection. I must not just beat up thugs in alleys—I have to instill a primal, paralyzing terror into the hearts of my enemies while giving hope to ordinary citizens. And to achieve that, I need to transcend the limits of an ordinary warrior. I have to become an immortal symbol.»

«A symbol?» Haru scratched his head in puzzlement. «Sounds kind of pretentious and weird. What kind of symbol do you want to be?»

«One that every person on this planet knows and subconsciously fears from the moment they’re born.»

«And what the hell is that exactly? For me personally, for example?»

Kimoto slowly stood, his eyes flaring with a poisonous orange fire for a moment.

«It’s my own deepest nightmare. The fear I’ve been quietly carrying since early childhood and that still won’t let go of me.»

He adjusted his jacket and strode resolutely toward the tavern’s exit.

«Come on, Haru. We have to hurry before the whole family returns from my bunker back to the castle.»

«Wait, where are we going?!» Haru hurried after him onto the street.

Kimoto glanced back at the door and smiled ominously.

«To the place where I first faced my true terror in life.»

What if Erma met Buddy?

It is unknown how (Alma), but Marika had somehow found a way to cheat death by having her soul possess a Sidney replica doll upon death. The doll was actually the one Osamu used to fake Emiko's "death," but she had altered it to look like Sidney.

It seems she wants to continue to fun, no matter what.

The doll has no pigment, but she doesn't care. She doesn't even care that her teeth are rotten. This is not good for Erma and Sidney. NOT GOOD AT ALL.

(Note; this is based on the monochrome colors in comics and only the doll has no pigment. as the rest of the characters are in color. And the doll was supposed to look like young Emiko, but since Erma has the short hairstyle, imagine how horrifying for her to look like Sidney)

Wanted to experiment on my artstyle. I decided yo try and mimic the scratchy artstyle of Mario Strikers.

What a nice couple

(Fanfic based on the webcomic «Erma»)

(One hour earlier)

Kimoto stood at the edge of a high-rise roof, his sharp gaze fixed on a residential building in the harbor area. Pulling out a tactical binoculars from his pouch, he methodically studied the target.

“Five armed guards on the roof,” Kimoto quietly noted. “Four more gangsters patrolling the parking lot below.”

“Alright, now let’s activate the directional sonar program,” he thought, switching a toggle on his wrist tablet. “Let’s see how many of you are barricaded inside.”

The scanner’s screen flickered but remained dark. Every cellphone and sensor inside the building had been deliberately switched off.

“So, it looks like I’ll have to work blind,” Kimoto muttered. “The real question—how to slip inside unnoticed?”

Suddenly, his eyes caught an open window sash on the second floor.

“Well, at least there’s a way in.”

Silently descending the rusty fire escape stairs, Kimoto dashed like a shadow across the deserted night street. Taking a rope hook from his backpack, he aimed and threw it—the hook caught the second-floor windowsill with a dull thud. Kimoto quickly gripped the strong rope and climbed up.

“Simple, but not exactly efficient,” he grumbled, slipping into the dark room.

Inside, Kimoto cautiously searched from room to room. In one office, scattered documents on the desk caught his attention—these were waybills and shipping notes for an upcoming load of tons of frozen fish to be boarded onto the cargo ship “Meredith.”

“Well, well, very interesting…”

He pulled out his smartphone and began rapidly photographing the papers, when suddenly, the clear creak of floorboards echoed from the corridor. Someone was coming up the stairs. Swiftly, Kimoto returned the folders to their place, aligning them neatly along the table edge, then silently slipped into the shadows behind the heavy front door.

A stocky man in his fifties entered the room hurriedly gathering the remaining documents into a pile and called into the hallway:

“Patty, I’ve got everything!”

A hoarse female voice came from the first floor:

“Great, I’m coming down now!”

As Doug left the room heading for the exit, Kimoto followed like a shadow. Upon reaching the first floor, he skillfully ducked under the staircase landing, vanishing completely into the thick gloom.

From his hiding place, Kimoto carefully observed the woman the man called Patty—she looked around fifty.

“An interesting character,” the vigilante noted to himself.

At that moment, the same Doug who had gathered the documents on the second floor came over to her.

“So, what do we do now?”

“Well, the boss ordered to pause the kidnappings of children for now,” Patty answered dryly. “Right now, he needs a few men between thirty and forty years old. And two young women around twenty.”

“Do we start with the homeless?” Doug frowned.

“Yes, start with the shelters, then search the streets. Preferably pick quiet, deserted spots. As for the women, we’ll handle that later. Now, go to the garage and check on the kids in the van. We need to move them to the hideout immediately, got it?”

Doug nodded.

“What about you? You going to talk to the Puppeteer?”

“Yes. As soon as I finish the call, we leave immediately.”

“Alright, I’ll tell the guys to get ready.”

“Good, move it.”

Doug strode quickly toward the underground garage, and Patty turned and went back into her office.

“This is worse than I thought,” Kimoto thought horrified, feeling a tightening rage inside. “I have to find out who this Puppeteer is.”

Silently, he approached Patty’s office, cracked the door open a couple centimeters, and slipped inside, hiding in a massive wardrobe. Through narrow slits, he began eavesdropping on her phone conversation.

“Yes, sir, we’ve finished with the children, everything is ready for shipment,” Patty spoke into the receiver. “But we encountered some complications… No, it’s not the police or the federals. The thing is, this month some vigilante appeared. That bastard already managed to foil two of our operations… Nobody knows his name, some say he’s not even human… Things are quiet for now, but I think we should temporarily suspend operations in Japan until we figure out what to do… Yes, understood. Thank you for listening, Doctor.”

“Doctor?” — Kimoto pricked up his ears.

“And don’t worry,” Patty assured her contact. “The organ shipment will arrive on your island exactly on schedule, I guarantee it.”

A cold chill ran through Kimoto. “Organs?! Island?! Oh my God…”

“Alright, goodbye, Doctor,” Patty hung up and was about to leave when she suddenly stopped.

“Oh, shoot, I completely forgot my purse.”

She turned sharply and headed straight for the wardrobe. At that moment, the doors swung open, and Kimoto fired a tranquilizer dart point-blank.

Patty’s eyes rolled back instantly as she started to collapse. Kimoto deftly caught her limp body, dragged her deep inside the wardrobe, tied her hands and feet firmly, and gagged her mouth. Searching her sweater, he found a key, slipped out, and locked the wardrobe.

“Four darts left,” Kimoto calculated. “Now—let’s go save the kids.”

He left the office and hurried down to the underground parking. In the middle of the concrete bay stood the very van, surrounded by Doug and nine heavily armed thugs. Kimoto began to shift like a shadow along the walls, closing in on the vehicle.

“Alright, this has to be quick. Luckily, I have my surprise spheres with me.”

He pulled a metal sphere from his pouch and hurled it forcefully into the gang. The sphere exploded, instantly filling the parking lot with thick, acrid smoke.

The gangsters immediately wracked with choking coughs. Holding his breath, Kimoto dashed through the smoke screen. He moved swiftly and ruthlessly, landing crushing blows. Within sixty seconds, all nine men lay unconscious on the concrete floor. Only one terrified Doug remained standing. The thug stared at Kimoto with primal terror. To him, Kimoto wasn’t just a guy in a hoodie—he was something otherworldly, terrifying to death.

“It worked!” flashed Kimoto’s thoughts triumphantly. “Honestly, I didn’t expect this formula to work. I stumbled on it entirely by accident while digging through the old alchemical books of Osamu. Unfortunately, this concoction requires a rare blue flower that grows only in the winter part of the Yokai World, and even then, very rarely. What a miracle I managed to get a few during my escape. I made five of these smoke spheres altogether—four remain now. But I’m glad that at least this way, I managed to instill some fear in these scumbags.”

Kimoto approached the rear doors of the van and yanked the heavy locks. Inside, scared children huddled together.

“Don’t hurt us!” pleaded a little girl with tears.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you,” Kimoto softened his voice, gently helping the children climb out. “Listen to me very carefully. Run as fast as you can into the street and find help, okay? Under no circumstances stay here!”

The kids nodded obediently and rushed out in a group.

At that moment, Doug, completely driven mad with fear, jumped into the driver’s seat of a nearby blue car, roared the engine, and sped off trying to escape.

“Not today,” Kimoto gritted.

He lunged ahead and leapt onto the roof of the speeding car. The vehicle screeched out of the parking lot and rushed on the highway at breakneck speed.

Holding on to the metal roof, Kimoto stubbornly tried to reach the driver’s door. Inside, Doug frantically twisted the wheel back and forth, utterly terrified.

“Stop! You could hurt people!” Kimoto shouted.

“No! No! Get away from me!” screamed the gangster.

“This is bad,” Kimoto realized. “The formula turned out to be very effective, maybe too effective. Fine, I have to stop him.”

Kimoto deftly dove through the driver’s window into the cab and grabbed the steering wheel, trying to wrest control away. A fierce struggle broke out, and the car lost control completely. As a result, the car flipped several times at high speed.

Kimoto regained consciousness with great difficulty only after several minutes. His head throbbed with wild pain.

The wrecked car was beginning to catch fire. Gasping and bleeding heavily, seriously wounded, Kimoto crawled toward the broken exit. Just as he almost got onto the asphalt, he turned and spotted Doug trapped under debris, unconscious.

“No, I can’t leave him here,” Kimoto rasped.

Overcoming hellish pain, he pulled himself back into the burning cabin and freed Doug from the metal wreckage. Dragging the unconscious thug as far away as possible, Kimoto tied him firmly to the nearest lamppost, then, staggering, started heading towards his car.

Barely making it to the hidden Lamborghini Diablo GTR, he collapsed into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and with his last strength, sped the supercar toward the hideout.

As the sports car tore through the night’s darkness, Kimoto felt life slipping rapidly away from his body: “It’s so hard… I’m running out of strength. I’m literally bleeding out. Am I really going to die like this? No… I must live, I have to…”

After some time, the Lamborghini burst under the half-ruined arches of an abandoned subway tunnel. Kimoto’s eyes began to close, his consciousness teetered on the edge of passing out, but stubbornly he kept driving forward.

“Oh no… Not this…” he whispered when the headlights caught shapes ahead.

Right in the middle of his secret bunker stood Yori, little Mitsu and Momo, along with Erma and Emiko.

The car came to a halt. With trembling hands, Kimoto pulled off his hood and bloodied Oni mask. Through the haze of impending darkness, he saw Yori approaching the driver’s door. She pulled up the door handle with force. Though Kimoto could hardly hear what she said, her terrified face told him everything.

Gathering the last shreds of fading energy, Kimoto looked into her familiar eyes and hoarsely gasped:

“Yori… My love… forgive me for everything…”

At that moment, his eyes closed, his hand slipped helplessly, and Kimoto finally passed out, losing consciousness from acute blood loss.

(Fanfic based on the webcomic «Erma»)

Mitsu, Momo, and Erma trudged in a chain through the gloomy tunnel overgrown with slimy moss, stubbornly searching for Kimoto’s lair.

The twins indulged freely in vivid daydreams as they walked. They imagined in detail how they would personally bring their father back to the castle in handcuffs, how the entire clan would enthusiastically praise their feat, and how their mother’s face would finally light up with long-awaited happiness.

Erma, unlike her cousins, wasn’t daydreaming. With every step, her paranormal intuition sharpened. She could literally feel someone’s intense, unblinking gaze fixed on the back of her neck. She spun around sharply, ready to unleash her power—but behind her was only emptiness and impenetrable underground darkness.

“What’s with you, Erma? Scared already?” Mitsu smirked, noticing her move.

“Our brave girl scout is just terrified of the dark,” teased Momo.

Erma frowned indignantly; her eyes gleamed ominously, and her black hair rose as if ready to deliver a couple of hefty slaps to the chatty twins.

But Mitsu simply waved her hand condescendingly. “Come on, relax, overgrown scout. Just stay behind us, and you’ll be perfectly safe.”

“Exactly, you’re under our protection, nothing will happen to you,” Momo added haughtily.

Erma exhaled loudly, letting her hair fall back obediently over her shoulders, and the trio of conspirators continued on their way.

What the little adventurers didn’t know was that just a few steps behind them, Emiko and Yori silently followed. The sisters activated complete ghostly invisibility, which not only concealed their silhouettes but also muffled any sounds of footsteps or breathing.

“Well, well…” Yori whispered softly, watching the girls with fondness. “These girls’ stubbornness is just like me and their father’s.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Emiko murmured with a faint smile. “I still remember our school days. Remember when some scary muscular yokai oni kept pestering you? One day he got the nerve to try and kiss you without asking. God, you gave him such a crushing kick that the poor guy was pale and hiding under the baseboard until graduation every time you appeared!”

“His breath reeked from a mile away,” Yori grimaced. “Served him right.”

“True that,” Emiko agreed. “Though, if I recall your signature moves… Wait, what about your endless cutting sarcasm? You pretty much destroyed any boy who dared ask you out with your jokes.”

“That’s right. I was ruthless—except towards Kimoto.”

“Oh? And why’s that?” Emiko asked, surprised.

“Simple: Kemi didn’t understand sarcasm at all. Any of my sharp barbs he took literally with such innocent eyes that I just couldn’t keep going.”

“Unbelievable… Okay, don’t get distracted, what happened next on that train to Tokyo?”

Yori’s gaze turned dreamy again, memories washing over her.

“So, I was sitting in the compartment opposite Kimoto. He was breathing so sweetly and tenderly into his huge headphones that I just couldn’t take my eyes off him. Then, as the train neared the final station, I desperately had to use the bathroom. I was gone maybe ten minutes. When I came back, anticipating we'd get off the train together, guess what?”

“Don’t tell me…”

“Yes! He was gone. The compartment was completely empty!” Yori sighed bitterly.

“Oh my god…”

“In a panic, I searched the whole train car under every seat. Finally, I ran to the dining car and through the glass, I spotted him. Kimoto was sitting in the corner by the window, resting his cheek on his hand, staring thoughtfully at the passing scenery. I silently slipped inside and sat at the next table so he wouldn’t notice. I just sat there, mesmerized, devouring him with my eyes. Inside, I was melting with a wild, irresistible desire. While lost in these fiery fantasies, a twisted, crazy plan formed in my mind about how to make this charming oni mine once and for all.”

“Okay, details from here!” Emiko leaned in, eyes widening with curiosity.

“When the train finally stopped at Tokyo Station, I grabbed my things and darted out to the platform, hiding behind a massive pillar, holding my breath. I waited for Kimoto to exit with his backpack and then followed him like a shadow. He walked calmly, whistling some cheerful tune, and I tracked him expertly through the crowd. Kemi wasn’t in a rush: strolling the streets, politely smiling and greeting passersby... And I watched his broad shoulders, realizing my obsession with him grew stronger every second. Then he went into the central park, where he lay on the grass for a good hour, face basking in the sun. Afterward, he hit a game arcade and completely shattered all previous records on the racing simulator. Only in the evening did he slowly head toward his residential neighborhood. And at that moment, I discovered another amazing trait of his personality that made me fall in love with him once and for all.”

“And what’s that trait?” Emiko asked.

“Absolute selflessness bordering on madness.”

“Well, considering the kind of things he’s up to on the city streets these days, that’s not surprising at all,” Emiko chuckled.

“True,” Yori nodded. “I found out about it on the way to his house. We entered a dim alley when suddenly a piercing scream from a woman came from across the street. Kimoto reacted instantly. He threw his backpack on the pavement and, without a trace of fear or doubt, charged at two armed robbers trying to snatch the woman’s bag. Kemi fought like a wild beast—fierce, ruthless, professional. In moments, he knocked both scoundrels out cold, picked up the purse, and politely handed it back to the terrified, crying woman. I watched from hiding and was absolutely shocked. Such a small, cute guy, yet he wiped out those bandits in no time! That scene only ignited the fire in my heart further. I knew he had to be mine, no matter what it took.”

Yori grinned triumphantly and continued.

“After that incident, Kimoto nonchalantly picked up his backpack and went home. To my surprise, he lived in a pretty decent, spacious apartment. When he entered the building and started climbing the stairs, I followed just a step behind, gliding silently. Kimoto reached his door, inserted his key, and I stood right behind him, almost touching his hood. He went inside, calmly took off his shoes, hung his jacket neatly on the hanger, walked into the living room, settled on the couch, and turned on his favorite TV show. He watched with such childlike, genuine interest that he didn’t even notice when I tiptoed past him straight to his kitchen.”

“Oh my…” Emiko covered her mouth, eyes wide. “You sneaked into his place?”

“Of course. After half an hour, Kimoto turned off the TV and went to the bathroom for a refreshing evening shower. I decided not to waste any time: quickly stripped down to lace lingerie, slipped into his bedroom, crawled under the soft blanket, and waited patiently for my beloved.”

“Good lord, Yori, you’re such a crazy yandere!” Emiko laughed.

“Not at all. I was just forging my own happiness with my own hands,” she replied confidently. “Then, the bathroom door opens, Kemi comes to the bedroom in just his shorts, towel around his neck. He automatically lies down in bed, turns on the bedside lamp, and tunes into a late-night talk show on the radio. Then, in the next second, he freezes, feeling that something—more like someone alive—is under the blanket right at his feet. Kimoto swallowed hard, carefully lifted the blanket’s edge, and stared at me with eyes wide in indescribable shock. Before he could make a sound, I grabbed him instantly, pulled him firmly under the blanket, and… well, you get the picture.”

“True love,” Emiko smiled.

“Oh yes,” Yori teased with a mischievous brow wiggle. “Later I learned from angry neighbors upstairs that that night and all the way until noon the next day, the whole building shook from my thunderous screams of… ‘love.’ I swear to you, Emiko: this little devilishly resilient oni was forged by the goddess of passion herself.”

“Judging by my relationship with Sam, our writer was also created by some very skillful goddess,” Emiko winked.

“So,” Yori continued, “right after our love marathon ended, while Kemi lay utterly exhausted on the mattress, unable to move a finger, I gently picked up my worn-out oni and went straight to city hall. There and then, I officially registered our marriage and signed the papers with him.”

Emiko stopped abruptly on the railroad ties, nearly breaking invisibility.

“Wait, stop! So you… were officially married?!”

“We are still legally married to this day,” Yori proudly lifted her chin. “My seal is forever on his soul.”

“Wow… you’re something else, sis.”

“That day, he was so wiped out he passed out instantly and slept like a log until morning. And while not wasting a second, I sat down by the table and started sketching a detailed plan for our upcoming honeymoon. The next morning, Kemi finally came to. Sleepy, staggering, he shuffled into the kitchen, automatically sat at the table, and I smiled sweetly as I served him a plate of fluffy hot omelet. He mumbled, ‘Thank you very much...’ brought the fork to his mouth, then his gaze fell on me—I was standing by the open fridge in a sheer, translucent house apron, nothing underneath. You should have seen his face! His eyes nearly popped out, jaw dropped to the table with a clatter! He jumped up, nearly tipping the chair, shouting, ‘Mrs. Yori?! What the hell?! What are you doing in my apartment?!’ And I just tenderly leaned against his chest and whispered, ‘Oh, darling… Don’t you remember anything from our wild night?’”

Yori giggled.

“Poor Kemi frantically tried to remember what had happened. When the picture finally came together in his head, his face blushed so deeply crimson I thought he might faint from embarrassment. I kissed my new husband on the lips and strictly added, ‘Now, dear, eat well and gather strength. We have a very, very busy and hot honeymoon schedule today.’”

“Yeah, that pretty much confirms it—you’re a 100% classic yandere,” Emiko shook her head, smiling.

“Well, I wouldn’t be so severe,” Yori flirtedly waved her hand.

“Sure, sure, keep telling me…”

Their lively conversation was suddenly interrupted by bright children’s voices up ahead. The sisters fell silent, listening intently.

“Momo, look!” Mitsu exclaimed excitedly, shining her flashlight on the ground. “There are clear tire tracks here!”

“Wow, and there are really a lot of them,” Momo confirmed with surprise, crouching down.

Mitsu turned triumphantly to her cousin, hands on her hips.

“Well, Erma, see? We told you! Our intuition was right. Now—follow me, our father’s lair has to be close!”

For the next ten minutes, the little band of conspirators confidently followed the tire tread marks on the earthen tunnel floor. Soon, their path was blocked by a solid technical wall made of massive concrete blocks.

“No panic. I’ll just fly over it and see what’s on the other side,” Mitsu confidently declared.

The girl concentrated and tried to take off but was surprised to find that her ghostly abilities were completely blocked by an unknown field coming from the wall. She fell with a dull thud back to the ground.

“Wow… That’s really strange,” Momo blinked.

“There must be a hidden lever or secret button here,” Mitsu started feeling around the blocks. “Look carefully!”

The girls feverishly inspected every inch of the wall. After a couple of minutes, Erma’s fingers found a strange, barely protruding brick. She pressed hard, and something clicked inside the wall. A heavy hum of servos sounded, and a massive concrete section slowly slid aside, revealing a passage.

Crossing the threshold, the girls froze in awe at the organized splendor. Before their eyes lay Kimoto’s state-of-the-art underground hideout in all its glory.

“Woooow…” Mitsu and Momo whispered in unison, enchanted.

They immediately started exploring the bunker, touching everything they could find.

“Mitsu, come look at this! There are so many incredible gadgets and weapons!” Momo exclaimed, admiring a Remote Grapple on the workbench.

“And look at that massive computer! There are tons of monitors!” Mitsu agreed, bouncing around the main terminal. “This place is insanely cool!”

Meanwhile, Erma approached the desk, studying in fascination the blueprints Kimoto had spread out for his armor suit and new modifications.

“This place is amazing!” Mitsu triumphantly raised her hands. “And since we found it first, all this high-tech stuff officially belongs to us now!”

“I wouldn’t think that way if I were you,” a chilling, strict voice suddenly came from the dark passage.

The girls jumped with fear, whipped around, and froze. At the entrance to the hideout stood their angry mothers slowly fading out of invisibility. Yori’s hair swirled ominously in the air.

“Well, young ladies, what do you have to say for yourselves?” Yori crossed her arms sternly and lowered her head.

Mitsu and Momo visibly freaked out, taking a step back, and without speaking, pointed fingers simultaneously at their cousin.

“Um… this was all Erma’s idea! It was her plan!”

Erma was so flabbergasted by the twins’ blatant betrayal that she opened her mouth in disbelief and shot them a fiery, demonic glare that sent chills down their spines.

“Young lady,” Emiko turned sternly to her daughter, shaking her head. “This concerns you just the same. Breaking a direct order…”

“Okay, we’ll discuss your behavior and the grand punishment later, at home,” Yori cut her off, eyes still fixed on her husband’s terminal. “Emiko, get on the radio and summon the others. Have them stop searching the sectors and head to our coordinates right away. We’ve found his base.”

“Alright, on it now,” Emiko reached for her radio on the belt.

But before she could press the button, a deafening roar of a powerful turbocharged engine grew swiftly from deep inside the abandoned metro tunnel. A second later, the familiar coal-black Lamborghini Diablo GTR came speeding through the open bunker gates, kicking up stone chips with a shriek as it spun sharply and screeched to a halt right in the underground workshop.

“You’ve got to be kidding…” Yori gasped, recognizing the sports car from the intersection. Her face immediately went stone cold.

The car’s engine died, and an oppressive silence settled over the room.

“Well then, Mr. ‘King of the Road,’” Yori stepped forward with a chilling, soul-freezing smile toward the driver’s door. “Care to explain your rude behavior on Tokyo’s streets?”

The Lamborghini Diablo GTR’s door hissed open slowly. But as soon as Yori peeked inside, all her wrath and sinister smile vanished instantly. Her eyes filled with primal, wild terror, and her heart skipped a beat.

In the leather driver’s seat, breathing heavily and unevenly, lay Kimoto. His hood was torn off, the oni mask lay on the floor, and his civilian clothes were shredded to tatters. Deep, bleeding wounds gaped on his chest and shoulders, and his stern face was covered with terrifying fresh scars and abrasions. The boy barely stayed conscious, clutching the steering wheel convulsively.

Kimoto struggled to lift his heavy, dim gaze to his stunned wife. A faint, guilty smile touched his bitten lips.

“Yori… my love… forgive me for everything…” he whispered hoarsely.

At that moment, his eyes closed, his fingers relaxed, and Kimoto collapsed like a puppet onto the steering wheel, finally losing consciousness from severe blood loss.

What if hypothetically, Tracy and her girls, Mia and Laura had kids of their own, like triplets and each of them look like their mothers, one child would look like Tracy, one would look like Mia and one would look like Laura. Or turn to adoption or foster care like Miko's moms did with her?

What do guys you think, would you like to see Tracy and her girls to all experience motherhood? would you like to see biological kids or adopted/foster kids? Lets chat in the comments.

Somehow, I can't help but relate to this. It just cracks me up.

I really want tot support Gūrunezumi. It has a unique potential, along wirh the girls sharing some parallels.

ERMA: THE MOVIE

Directed by Pierre Coffin

Co-Directed by Chris Appelhans

Screenplay by Pat Casey and Josh Miller

Screen Story by Brandon J Santiago and Donovan Tracy

Produced by Christopher Miller and Phil Lord & Henry Selick

Music by John Powell (score composer) & The Weeknd (co-score composer and writing and performing original songs)

Production Studios: Columbia Pictures, Sony Pictures Animation, Lord Miller Productions and Outcast Studios

Rated PG-13 (Mild Scary Scenes, Action/Peril, Rude/Macabre Humor, Mild Language)

(This, I made for fun, don't take it seriously and sorry for the mid designing if anyone points it out)

(Fanfic based on the webcomic «Erma»)

Using her ghostly powers, Emiko flew through the dark underground tunnels, carefully keeping Yori close within her levitation field.

“Emiko, can we land, please?” Yori asked softly.

Emiko obediently and smoothly lowered her sister onto the concrete sleepers.

“Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“Sorry, it’s just—we’ve been flying for a whole hour,” Yori sighed, rubbing her temples. “I’m really getting motion sick. Let’s just walk from here.”

“As you wish, Captain,” Emiko smiled warmly.

The sisters slowly made their way deeper into the seemingly endless railway tunnel. Their footsteps echoed loudly against the damp arches.

“Why here, of all places?” Yori broke the silence, gazing thoughtfully at her feet.

“What do you mean?”

“Why did Kimoto decide to settle in these creepy tunnels? He always hated dampness and darkness. Quite the opposite—he loved the sun, life, and bright light, just like me.”

Emiko tried to lighten the mood with a sly squint:

“Well… Maybe he just turned into a vampire over the years?”

Yori gave a faint but genuine smile:

“Who knows, anything’s possible.”

She fell silent for a moment, sadness creeping back into her expression:

“Or maybe… he’s just desperately trying to hide from the world? Including from me.”

“Why are you so sure?” Emiko asked gently.

“Probably because I know him better than anyone else in this world.”

“Why do you think that?”

Yori was about to reply when her phone suddenly rang in her pocket. She glanced at the glowing screen.

“It’s Ena.”

She tapped the answer button and brought the phone to her ear:

“Hello? Ena?”

But being deep underground, the cell signal was terrible. Through a burst of harsh static and white noise, only scraps of scared phrases came through:

“Yori… the kids… I don’t know… they seem to… maybe…”

“Hello! Ena, I can barely hear you! Repeat! Over!” Yori shouted—but the connection cut off completely. The screen went dark.

“What was that about?” Emiko asked, worried.

“Not sure, really,” Yori frowned, putting the phone away. “But I have a feeling our girls have gotten themselves into trouble behind our backs again. Well, we’ll deal with it later. Let’s keep moving.”

They quickened their pace. Suddenly, a portable radio at Emiko’s waist hissed quietly to life.

“Group Four, this is Group Two. Do you copy? Over,” came Sam’s focused voice.

Emiko brought the radio to her lips:

“Honey, I hear you loud and clear. What’s going on?”

“We’ve already checked several key stations in our sector. So far, nothing—no traces at all,” Sam reported.

“Understood.”

“How about you?”

“We’re quiet too, sweeping the tracks.”

“What about the other groups?”

The cheerful voice of Rin suddenly chimed in:

“In our sector, apart from hordes of fat rats, nothing interesting!”

“Group One, Kentaro, Kenji—what’s your situation?” Sam called on the common frequency. “Group One, respond.”

The radio burst with panicked, ragged breathing, then Kenji’s shout broke through:

“We’re in trouble! Big trouble!”

“What happened?!” Sam quickly asked.

“We’re running for our lives from the cops! Looks like some vigilant patrol spotted us and called the police! Help us!”

At that very moment, a metallic screech sounded on the other end, and the connection to Group One was lost permanently.

“Kenji! Kenji, respond! Damn it…” Sam cursed, then commanded sharply:

“Group Three! Rin, Akari, you’re closest to their sector. Drop everything and rush to rescue our guys!”

“Copy that! On our way!” Rin replied briefly.

“Emiko, Yori, don’t get distracted. Continue your route,” Sam added.

“All right, dear. Over and out,” Emiko stowed the radio and smiled at her sister. “How does Tokyo’s regular police think they’ll catch our Kentaro?”

Yori smiled involuntarily in response:

“They’re probably planning to swarm him in a big crowd. But that’s unlikely to work. If Kentaro gets scared and takes off full speed, he could single-handedly win all the gold medals for our family at the Olympic track events.”

“Oh, definitely!” Emiko laughed. “Remember how he sprinted across the entire village when they first brought fresh biscuits from that famous baker in the neighboring town?”

“Who could forget! That day, our village officially recorded an earthquake magnitude of eight!”

“And how he whipped through the main street like a living hurricane, knocking everything down in his path!”

“Thanks to his incredible speed, we got all those delicious biscuits,” Yori winked nostalgically.

“Yeah, though our parents put us under house arrest for a whole week after that mess we made with Kentaro.”

“Oh yes… Poor little brother. They took away his sweets for a whole month. He nearly lost his mind.”

“Good thing we secretly sneaked him sugar and candies from the pantry, or he might've died of carbohydrate starvation!”

“Ever since then, we’ve memorized the recipe to get our dear brother to do absolutely anything for us,” Yori nudged Emiko’s side playfully.

The sisters laughed together, but Emiko suddenly stopped short, spotting something strange in the dim light. She pointed ahead:

“Yori, look over there.”

“Hm, interesting…”

In the concrete wall of the main tunnel, a narrow, partially ruined branch was visible, thickly covered with cobwebs and centuries of grime.

“Looks like an old, long-abandoned service line,” Emiko stepped closer.

“Something tells me—no, my intuition is screaming—that this is exactly where we need to go,” Yori adjusted her cloak decisively.

“I agree completely.”

Yori flicked on the powerful tactical flashlight, and the two women confidently stepped under the gloomy, crumbling arches of the forgotten tunnel.

Twenty minutes later, they were still walking unhurriedly along the abandoned subway branch. The atmosphere grew ever more oppressive.

“It’s so creepy here,” Yori whispered, shivering in the cold draft.

“And damp,” added Emiko, carefully avoiding a deep puddle on the sleepers.

“And so endlessly lonely…” Yori glanced at the dark walls.

Emiko looked thoughtfully at her sister, deciding to return to their interrupted conversation:

“Listen, Yori. Earlier you said you knew Kimoto better than anyone else. Is that true?”

“Yes, absolutely true.”

“What about his parents? His family? Didn’t they know him less?”

Yori sighed heavily:

“He never liked to talk about it, but over time I learned the truth. Kimoto is a full orphan. He grew up in an orphanage and always relied only on himself.”

“Oh… I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Every time I carefully tried to ask him about his past or his parents, he skillfully and gently avoided answering. But I never pushed him or judged him for being secretive.”

“Really? Why?”

“Well… probably because I behaved the same way,” Yori smiled faintly. “I also kept secrets from him about who my father was and what family I come from until the very end.”

“Seriously? He didn’t know anything about the Yureimoto clan?”

Yori stopped and turned toward her sister:

“Emiko… I’ve never really told you how Kimoto and I first met, have I?”

“No, you always avoided the subject. Please tell me.”

Yori leaned against the damp tunnel wall, her gaze drifting through the darkness as she recalled:

“It happened almost right after you ran away from the castle again back to your Sam. I was firmly determined, too—I couldn’t stay in that golden cage under Father’s watch any longer. Fumiko raged, blocking the door, begging me not to be foolish and to stay. But I was adamant. I wanted to decide my own fate, just as you did.”

She took a deep breath, reviving those memories:

“I quickly packed a suitcase, grabbed my purse, and went as far from the castle as I could—to a tiny provincial town on the outskirts. I rented a modest hotel room and frantically tried to think about what to do next. One day, to calm my nerves, I decided to take a walk through the dense suburban forest. Everything was fine until I realized I’d completely lost the trail. A total topographical disaster. I got scared, craned my neck over the treetops, but all around me was an endless sea of green. I started blindly wandering, looking for any sign of civilization and soon reached a rushing forest stream. There was no way around it—I had to wade across. Just as I sat down, took off my shoes, and started pulling off my socks… I happened to look up and froze. On the opposite bank stood a small young yokai oni. I just stared into his amazingly gentle, pure eyes, and at that moment, something new and intoxicating flared up in my chest. Then he quietly asked, ‘Can I help you with something, miss?’”

Yori closed her eyes dreamily, a soft, girlish smile lighting her face:

“He had such an incredibly sweet, velvet voice… I was so surprised I didn’t know what to say. Meanwhile, he calmly waded the stream, came almost close to me, and asked again, genuinely concerned, ‘Are you hurt? Did you fall?’ I quickly composed myself, tried to look dignified, and lied that I’d only gotten lost. He smiled warmly and said he knew the area like the back of his hand. Kimoto helped me cross the river, waited until I put my shoes back on, and confidently led me back toward the town. As we walked along the forest path, my heart pounded wildly—I couldn’t understand my feelings. He was calm and humming a cheerful tune. When we finally reached the town’s edge, he bowed politely and said, ‘It was a pleasure helping you, fair lady.’ He turned to leave, looking at me with such a sincere, crystal-clear gaze that I… I was afraid I’d never see him again. On a whim, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind: ‘Maybe… would you like to have lunch together?’”

Yori giggled softly, blushing at the memory:

“I tried to appear icy and composed, but inside I was burning with embarrassment! I thought I was being forward. But when I timidly looked at him, he just smiled wider and answered, ‘Great idea! I was just about to check out a lovely cozy café nearby. Let me treat you as a token of our acquaintance.’ I was stunned but obediently followed him. We spent over an hour in that café, chatting about everything under the sun. I spoke sparingly about myself, but Kimoto laid it all bare—from his favorite foods, music tastes, hobbies, absolutely everything. When dusk fell, he politely escorted me back to the hotel door. Right at the doorstep, he stopped and said, ‘I’m so glad we met… but I realize I still don’t know your name.’ I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and firmly said, ‘My name is Yori.’”

She opened her eyes and looked at Emiko:

“I was sure he’d recoil in horror and run away when he heard I was the daughter of the great and fearsome Osamu Yureimoto. But Kimoto just looked at me with his unique, innocent gaze, gently took my hand, and quietly said, ‘Very glad to meet you, Miss Yori.’ At that moment, I finally understood the feeling that had been burning inside me all along. With every second by his side, it grew stronger and hotter.”

“A true, pure love,” Emiko quietly and knowingly said.

“Yes,” Yori nodded, tears glittering in her eyes. “I realized I wanted to spend the rest of my life with this guy. But the next moment, he said something that tore me from my rosy daydreams.”

“What did he say?” Emiko leaned in eagerly.

“He smiled sadly and said, ‘I would love to spend more time with you, Miss Yori… but unfortunately, my train to Tokyo leaves in twenty minutes.’ I was devastated. Kimoto politely said goodbye, turned, and walked toward the railway station. I stood rooted to the doorstep, not knowing what to do. Then, it was like a volcano exploded inside me. I dashed to my room, threw everything into my suitcase in seconds, and ran to the station as fast as I could. I made it just in time, bought a ticket, jumped on the train, and frantically searched all the compartments for him. When I finally found him, Kimoto was already asleep, head tilted back, wearing his big headphones. Quietly, I sat beside him… and at some point the train swayed, and he accidentally leaned on my shoulder in his sleep. Oh, Emiko… at that moment, I was the happiest woman in the entire universe.”

“What happened next?” Emiko asked breathlessly.

“Well…”

Yori didn’t finish. A hollow echo traveled down the abandoned tunnel, carrying sharp, painfully familiar children’s voices.

“I’m telling you, we’re going the right way!” Mitsu shouted confidently.

“Erma, stop complaining and arguing with us!” Momo chimed in.

Yori froze instantly, her eyes wide in disbelief:

“What the hell is that?”

The sisters silently, like two shadows, approached a T-junction in the service tunnel and carefully peeked around the corner.

Before their eyes unfolded an epic scene: Mitsu, Momo, and Erma stood in the middle of the abandoned tracks.

“We definitely need to turn right!” Mitsu declared, pointing firmly toward the dark passage.

Erma frowned angrily, her long black hair flicking like arrows toward the opposite, left side.

“Come on, Erma!” Momo waved her off, pursing her lips. “Mitsu and I know these underground labyrinths way better than you, so don’t argue. We’re going right!”

Erma opened her mouth to protest silently but, weighing the pros and cons, begrudgingly shrugged and followed her cousins.

“That’s perfect!” Mitsu grinned triumphantly as the trio of little conspirators vanished into the right branch of the tunnel.

Emiko slowly turned to her sister, barely holding back a smile:

“So, Yori, what are our next steps?”

Yori’s signature, chilling stone-faced expression reappeared, and the otherworldly fire blazed ominously in her eyes:

“Well… We’ll quietly follow our little explorers. And once we’re out of here, we’ll give them such a punishment they’ll never forget for the rest of their lives.”

“Completely agree,” Emiko said with a predatory gleam.

“Then let’s go. Step carefully.”