Frank's Backstory Continued...
Frank paused. The girl was open eyed and far too scared to move. The plane, which had been moving along at a very even pace now began to shutter a bit. They had obviously reached an area of some unexpected turbulence and it gave Frank chills. Would he be safe? Would he make it to LA? Was this some plot by the pilots or Anarchs in order to send him to his true grave? These thoughts began streaming through his head, giving him a terrible headache. He lit another lucky strike and walked over to the couch. He laid down and tried to get the thoughts of paranoia out of his head. It was difficult and required his full effort.
The girl remained still, too stunned by all of what she had heard to even move. She it was all for the best really, Frank didn’t’ really want her running about the cabin screaming. That would just be annoying.
Frank called for the kine stewardess. “Bring it in. I need my medicine!”
The stewardess entered the cabin holding a silver tray. She had been prepared for this as well and new of exactly what Frank spoke. On the tray was what looked like a small wooden Jewelry box of excellent Japanese craftsmanship. It was covered in black lacquer and laced with gold in the pattern of dragons.
Frank got up from the couch and took the box off of the tray. The stewardess bowed and quietly left the cabin. She didn’t want to be here for this and Frank didn’t blame her. Frank walked over to the girl, still sitting unmoving at the table. He put the box down in front of her and stretched out his hand, touching her gently on the chin, raising her face to meet his. He stared deeply into her eyes.
“I am sorry to force you to do this honey, but I require your help now. In a moment, once I have undressed, you will open this box and remove its contents. You will then plunge what you find into my chest and hold it in for fifteen minutes. You will then remove the object, clean it, and sit back down. You will do this and only this.”
After receiving Frank’s command, he began to undress. He took off his Jacket and undid his tie. Then, he began to remove his shirt. The girl looked on at him as he did so. Then, he began to unbutton his shirt. What lay underneath caused the young girl’s eyes to open wide. He was covered from neck to foot in Japanese inks; his horimono was the undeniable sign of a marked man, a member of the Yakuza. Anyone who looked at it could instantly see the decades of care that went into its crafting. It was perfect in all of its glory. Figures of dragons and demons adorned his arms and his legs. He was covered in the cherry blossom storm, or Sakura Fubuki, a symbol of transience and the temporal nature of the human being. Frank turned around when he took off his pants and placed all of his clothes on the big leather couch. His back was covered in the image of a great roaring Tiger, a symbol of power. Any Japanese would know these images; this girl certainly did.
When he had finished disrobing, he stood in front of the girl. Then, as she had been instructed, she opened the black lacquer box and withdrew its contents, a small wooden stake wrapped in red silk. She took the stake from its silk wrappings and then stood before Frank; she waited only seconds before plunging it deep into his heart.
Frank could feel the incredible pain of the stake entering him and penetrating the organ of his lifeblood. He could feel the wood inside him, as he had so many times. He felt his body becoming limp and he could sense the loss of control setting on. There would be only seconds before this loss of control spread through his entire body and he would become paralyzed and immobile. He would lose all ability to move his body. A stake to the heart was something that every vampire feared. Frank feared it as well. He was filled with an intense fear of the stake that shook him all the way to the core; but every time he saw the stake, he felt his paranoia vanish. Frank regularly felt intense paranoid tendencies, but whenever he was confronted with a stake in front of him, this paranoia disappeared. He didn’t need to wonder if he was threatened or if he was in trouble, seeing the stake was a manifestation of fear in his mind and when it plunged into his heart, he could feel his fears leave his body.
The girl followed Frank’s orders to the letter and exactly fifteen minutes later, she removed the stake from his heart, leaving a gaping bloody wound in his chest. She cleaned the stake with the red silk cloth, placed it in its box, and returned to her seat at the table. Frank slumped onto the floor. He was a bloody mess, but feeling gradually returned to his body, intense pain spread through him, but he regained the ability to move. He carefully gathered himself off the floor and made his way to the bathroom. He cleaned the wound, just as always, stitched himself up with a medicine case specifically available for this purpose, and then applied a large bandage to the wounded area.
Frank returned to the cabin and dressed once again. Taking out another cigarette, he began to smoke, and sat back down at the table. “Sorry to put you through that. It must be horrifying. I can see it in your tearing eyes. I will explain all of this to you shortly, but for now, let me rest for a bit. Sugar, if you had a wooden stake stabbed into your heart, you would need to rest as well.
Frank sat there for almost two hours before beginning his story again.