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“We made an error!!”
The first words he ever heard.
“It’s gone all wrong!!”
Discordant screaming.
“Hurry, someone kill it!!”
Pain. Agony. Grief. Error.
***
In a distant land filled with mountains, and cloudy bamboo forests there could be found two valleys.
The valleys were separated by a grand mountain that came up between the two, creating the atmosphere of two different worlds.
Surrounding each valley were many smaller mountains, keeping the two valleys enclosed off from the world.
At first you would think each valley was just like the other. But that was not so. The valley to the left of the mountain was filled with humans. Proud humans whose culture was based on honor and combat.
The humans had never been to the other side of the mountain, and for a good reason. The other valley was the home of the demons.
Retched terrible creatures full of mischief and magic. There were many terrible stories about the demons. Some said they kidnapped children. Others argued that they actually ate them, devouring their souls like candy. All agreed that demons were foul and needed to stay on their side of the valley.
As such, the people were highly dedicated to the art of weaponry and self-defense. They desired to protect their villages with all their might, mind and strength!
Each village had an overlord called a Daimyo. The Daimyo was the main village protector along with his many samurai warriors.
Now, one of the villages was in an uproar. Their Daimyo and his wife had finally had their first son after many many daughters. But much to everyone’s dismay, something had gone wrong.
The baby didn’t look like other children. In a land of people who had silken black hair and dark eyes, it came as a shock to everyone when he was revealed to have the purest white hair and red eyes. The baby had a horrible red birthmark that stretched from his left hip up to his right shoulder across his chest.
The people were devastated. They said that the child looked like the spawn of demons. However, the Daimyo wanted to believe in his little son. He wanted to believe that he was just human. So, he let him live. He named his son Genjo and proclaimed him his heir.
Genjo then went on with life to grown up. He behaved like a normal child, spoke like a normal child, and did everything like he was supposed to. The people began to accept him, despite his demonic appearance.
Then one day, tragedy befell the Daimyos family. Three of the daughters, the wife, and Genjo were poisoned. The person who prepared the meals for them had been an assassin and had slipped a deadly Higanbana Spider Lilly powder into their ham dinner.
The Spider Lilly caused them all to be bed ridden with a terrible sickness. One by one, the poison overtook them, rendering them dead.
The Daimyo was devastated. His daughters, his wife, and his only heir were gone.
Desperately, he called upon dark measures and sought out the Demon cultists.
Hidden in the shadows of the valley, there were cultists who worshiped the demons and practiced dark magic and rituals.
The cultists took his sons dead body into one of their hidden temples. They drew out symbols on the floor, lit torches, and sprinkled down powdery dusts. Together they chanted, waving their robed bodies together in a unified dance. Hidden behind their carved Oni masks were faces chanting the cursed words of their hidden language.
Genjo’s body rose up to hover in the air, feet together and arms outstretched in a ‘T’ pose. The cultists were depending on this ritual. The Daimyo had promised to leave them to worship in peace if they could resurrect his only son.
Unsurprisingly the ritual went incorrectly. Genjo’s body lit on fire with an unholy red flame. The child screamed and thrashed, now awakened from the peaceful slumber of death.
The cultists watched in horror as his skin melted off his bones. His eyes boiled and his organs dripped out of his abdomen like putrid fruit.
The child’s bones darkened to a solid night black. He desperately tried to cling onto any of the flesh and guts falling off him. It stained his hands a vibrant red and yellow.
The tears falling from his eyes formed permanent sticky blue tear tracks that clung to his cheeks.
“We made an error!!” One of the cultists screamed. Error? Was that his name?
” It’s gone all wrong!!” Another cried out.
Errors body was convulsing, his black and red bones blazing with fire. His eye sockets were filled with the unholy blaze, preventing him from seeing. He screamed and screamed and screamed.
“Hurry, someone kill it!!”
In a panic, he lashed out the fire blazing through the whole room. The cultists wailed in agony as their bodies were burnt.
The demonic force keeping Error in the air dropped him and he hit the ground hard. He still couldn’t see! Whimpering in his small childlike voice, he tried to blink the flames away. He felt a pain in his left eye as a dart blown from a dart gun was fired at him.
His instincts took over. His body shuddered and he went up in flames again. Only these flames didn’t burn. They sent him to a new room away from the horrible people. He whimpered and cried, his thick and sticky blue tears gumming up his eyes. He staggered around and fell to the ground as he tripped over his boney feet.
The dart jammed into his skull through his eyes socket combined alongside with his sticky eyes did nothing to reassure the child. He cried even harder than before.
Waves of dancing red flames rushed forth from his body like violent merciless waves. The walls of the cultist's temple caught on fire and the building began to fill with smoke and unbearable heat.
But Error had no clue that the building was burning down around him. He was too overwhelmed by the fear and pain. He didn’t understand. What had he done?! What had he done?! The smoke, nor the heat of the fire bothered him. But he hated the dart in his skull.
Gently, his body still shaking with sobs he reached up into his eye socket. Feeling around through the sticky mess of the blue strings, he located and pulled out the dart.
Using both his hands, he began to pull the strings out of his sockets, yard after yard of the sticky blue substance kept coming out. His vision was clearer now, except for the base rim of his sockets which kept oozing the blue stuff. It stayed in a permanent trail down his cheeks.
Now that he could actually see, he took in his surroundings. The temple was on fire, crackling and breaking apart. Strangely enough, the sight of the destruction helped put him at ease. Good. Now the voices who had hurt him were suffering.
He gazed down at his body. His eyes weren’t focusing, making everything blurry. But he could see a black rib cage, red arms, and red, black and yellow hands and feet. He shook his body and listened to his bare bones as they rattled.
He looked up and caught sight of his face in one of the temples mirrors. He saw a skeleton child staring back, red mismatched eyes dilated in fear with sticky, gummy tears running down his cheeks. Small sparks and flares of the fire danced around his body.
He started to cry again, making small whimpering sounds as he choked on sobs. An inverted heart shape that was floating in his rib cage shine brightly. The upside-down heart caught his attention, and he slowed his crying before his eyes glued together again.
He reached up into his ribs and cupped a hand around it. He was able to delicately bring it out so he could study it.
With childlike curiosity, he watched as red flames appeared and disappeared on the surface of his soul. This helped calm him down. He slowed his panicked breathing, and noticed that when he was feeling scared, the flares appeared on his body, and when he was calm, he could keep the fire under control.
There was a crack above him and a chunk of the ceiling fell. Error panicked and his body was engulfed in flames again.
He reappeared outside the temple this time, unluckily enough right by the cultists.
The Daimyo was enraged and was killing them off with his sword.
The last cultist fell down dead after being impaled.
The Daimyo turned and saw Error. His eyes widened in terror at the small skeleton child.
Error stared back at him. This person was familiar. He felt a strange fondness towards him.
He took a few hesitant steps forwards, and slowly opened his arms in a friendly manner. It just… felt like the right thing to do.
The Daimyo took on a fighting stance, pointing his sword at the child. He snarled out three words that made Error’s soul ache.
“You horrible demon!”
Error froze up at the words. Why had he called him that? Why did he sound so angry?
A name passed through his mind, and he dared to speak. He didn’t even understand what the word meant, but it felt so right to speak it. His voice was disjointed and interrupted by the sounds of crackling flames, but the message got across. “D-dad?”
The Daimyo lost it at that. He lunged attacking Error with his sword. Error screamed in fear and a pulse of flames rushed out of his body. The Daimyo was struck with the flames before he could strike the little skeleton. He screamed in agony, as the fire began to consume his body.
Error was terrified! He didn’t know what to do!! He had both his hands on his cheeks as he watched in horror. When he pulled his hands away, the strings stuck to his fingers. With a scared yelp, he shook his hand wildly to get them off.
The blue substance detached from his eyes and formed long blue strings. The strings whipped around as he waved his hand in a panic. They wrapped around the Daimyo.
Error screamed louder as he accidentally yanked the flaming body closer to himself. With a quick jerk of his skeletal hands, the body was sliced apart by his strings. The Daimyo stayed just how he was for a split-second staring in disbelief. Then his body slushed apart falling into pieces on the ground. The blood from the body flooded the grass, washing across Error’s feet.
He scrambled backwards, hyperventilating. His eyes filled with flames again and he panicked as he couldn’t see. He turned and ran, stumbling over the bodies of the cultists, choking and sobbing in terror.
His bloodied footsteps set the grass ablaze as he ran through the delicate pine forest. He could hear the trees catching fire and falling around him. Multiple times, he crashed hard slamming into trees, and tripping over rocks. The flames in his eyes cleared up enough for him to finally see where he was.
He had made it to the village outskirts. The forest behind him was burning down and the people were terrified.
To see a bloody, black skeleton come running out of the woods was too much for them. The people screamed and ran. They called out terrible words such as “it’s a demon!” and “it’s the god of destruction!”
Error felt so confused and scared.
He ran through the village, flashes of confusing memory’s bombarding his mind. There were so many sounds and lights and sensations all happening at the same time!!
He froze up, as he felt his panic overwhelm him. He didn’t know what to do! He felt so lost! What did he need to do?!? He let it all out in a horrific bloodcurdling scream. Wave after wave after wave of fire pulsed from where he was standing. No one survived. Nothing made it.
Error swooned in his panic, falling forwards. His eyes shut and he went limp passing out.
***
It had been a few months since Error had burnt the village to the ground. He had eventually woken up, discovered there was literally nothing left and so ran away.
Currently he was resting in the twilight hours curled up beneath a hidden away tree.
By now, he had discovered a few different things. He had figured out how to control his fire and how to manipulate his strings.
Lastly, he figured out he hated humans.
Stupid things. All of them screamed when they saw him.
At first it made him cry, but as he got used to it, he began to use this to advantage. Scaring them away from their homes so he could have a place to stay the night, and food to eat.
None of the humans knew what his name was. They all called him ‘demon’ or ‘destroyer’. He felt like his name was his own special little secret. Something worth keeping to himself.
He wasn’t really that surprised that they called him destroyer. He had started taking pride in wrecking things. Why shouldn’t he? They destroyed his life! They deserved it!
But he was getting tired. So tired of being chased. Tired of being hungry. Tired of being himself.
He laughed, a soft and strained sound, hugging the blanket he had stolen last month close to his chest. At least he had this.
It was a soft silky red blanket. He had found a needle in someone’s house along with embroidery. He had quickly discovered he could do the same with his strings, so he stitched patterns into the fabric. The sewing helped him feel calmer. Better.
But he still didn’t feel good. He wanted to be accepted. He wanted to be treated like a human and not a demon.
Error froze, his face half buried in his blanket. That was his problem! He wasn’t a human! But he was a demon. Didn’t demons live over the mountain?
A little smile spread across his face as he began to formulate his plan.
***
After careful planning and consideration, Error set off to travel up the mountain.
When it was warm and sunny, he hiked up the mountain, using his strings to pull himself up the cliff-sides.
When it was rainy, he would huddle up under trees wrapped in his blanket and watch the rain. Or sometimes he would run though the storms laughing in delight. He had never felt so free!!
He hadn’t seen a human in ages by now! No more dirty stinky humans!
He often got distracted, playing in mud puddles, exploring caves, or finding food.
He would find beautiful flat leaves and embroider into them with his blue strings and needle.
He traveled up the mountain and it got progressively colder and cloudier. A few times, he tried to capture a cloud with his strings and was sore disappointed when it didn’t work.
He would practice his fire magic, determined on perfecting it.
It took him three months to arrive at the top of the mountain. It was so foggy up here. He pulled his embroidered blanket tightly around his shoulders. It made him nervous. He didn’t like how the fog drifted through the bamboo.
He shivered as the fog drifted through his bare ribs. He pulled the blanket closed around his body.
The sound of eerie flute music began to drift through the air. He felt himself getting progressively more and more anxious. Sparks began to gather on his bones and his eyes started to smolder.
He shook his head wildly, trying to dissipate the smoke. He let out a panicked whimper, shutting his eyes tightly. The smoke gathered inside his skull leaking out his nose and mouth.
It tickled and he coughed letting out a big puff of smoke.
One of the edges of his blanket caught on fire. He shrieked, running around.
He threw his blanket to the grassy ground and stamped on it with both feet, screaming and shouting.
He flopped on the ground next to his blanket. It wasn’t badly damaged… But now the corner was burnt off and smelled funny!
He snatched up the blanket and pouted, hugging it to his face. Oh great, now his eyes were getting all sticky again! He made loud angry sounds into his blanket then rolled onto his stomach.
The flute music had stopped…
He felt nervous and scared all over again. Curling up into a turtle position he pulled the blanket over his back, hiding beneath it. He peered out into the foggy surroundings, scanning for movement.
It was very difficult to see with the fog, his sticky eyes, and naturally fuzzy eyesight. He huffed in annoyance.
The flute music started up again and he perked up. Where was it coming from? He scrambled to his feet, his bones slipping against the wet grass.
He wrapped his blanket tightly around his shoulders and ran towards the sound.
He should have known something like this would have happened to him.
Next thing he knew it, he had tripped on a rock that he couldn’t see. He screamed, expecting to fall on his face but what he got in return was far worse.
He tumbled down a steep slope, shrieking and slamming against different things such as bamboo, rocks and other such stuff.
Finally, he landed in a clearing at the base of the slope, and his face got stuck in the dirt.
Error struggled, and yanked his head out, accidentally throwing himself onto his back. He made angry loud sounds as he wiped the dirt off his face. He stood up and roared at the disgusting pile of earth that he had fallen into. “STUPID!!! Stupid stupid stupid stupid!!” He paused his rant when he heard a chuckle.
Error completely froze up in terror. In the middle of the clearing, beneath a lone blossoming cherry tree was a stranger balancing cross legged on a massive calligraphy brush.
The fog cleared up, helping Error to see the stranger better.
The stranger had one bare foot delicately balanced on the tip of the massive brush, his legs folded one across the other. The brush was bristle side down, and the luscious black bristles were trailing across the petal strewn floor.
The stranger wore a brown kimono that had splat marks of black hued ink splattered across it decoratively. Across his chest was a sash that had many vials lined up. The vials were in rainbow order and were filled with bright paints.
But what caught Error’s attention the most was the strangers face. His face! He couldn’t believe it!!!
The stranger sockets had eyelights that changed shape and color every time he blinked. His smile was quirky and amused. On one of his cheeks was a black splatter mark.
He was a skeleton. He was a skeleton!!
Error freaked out. His body went up in flames. It was a good thing he had dropped his blanket off to the side, otherwise it would have been reduced to cinders. He pointed right at the stranger, his body quaking in over excitement.
The stranger didn’t run, and he didn’t scream. He didn’t do either of those things.
Instead, he gracefully slipped down his brush, leaning it up against the tree. He set down the flute he had been holding (so that’s where the music was coming from) and he approached Error, a concerned look on his face.
“Little one? Are you alright?”
Error’s little legs gave out beneath him, and he dropped to the earth on his hands and knees. Little pulses of fire radiated off his body. It was another skeleton! Another demon like him!! He couldn’t believe it!!
The stranger chuckled “Are you really that excited to see me, young one?”
OhMyGoodness! OhMyGoodness! It was another demon! He couldn’t believe it!!! He struggled to get control over his emotions. He diminished his flames back to normal. Sitting back up, he reached over and snatched his blanket.
He stared up at the stranger who was squatting in front of him. He hugged his blanket bringing it up to his mouth to hide the growing smile. He shyly mumbled “h-hello?”
The stranger gasped “oh, your voice!!”
Error immediately recoiled. His voice?! Of course, he knew they would hate it! It was terrible! It was horrible! It was—
“Wonderful!!” The stranger exclaimed.
Error froze staring at him in disbelief.
The stranger continued “I have never heard a voice quite like yours before! It’s such a special voice!” He looked happy. “It reminds me of a crackling fire.”
Error whispered, “you mean it?” His mismatched eyelights wobbled.
The stranger nodded firmly “I do indeed!” He sat down next to Error, letting his legs cross again. Error flinched ever so slightly. He pulled his blanket around his back and wrapped himself up for comfort.
The stranger offered his name “I’m Ink.” He spoke. “What’s your name, little one?”
Error startled. He wanted to know his name? Really?! His eyelights shimmered and he mumbled “E-Error?…”
Ink hummed “Error? What an interesting name.”
Error bucked up the courage to ask “a-are you a demon? L-like me?” His little voice crackled in hesitation.
Ink looked startled “Demon?! Goodness, child no! Neither are you! We’re Monsters! We’re a unique race of magical beings. Dear little one, where have you been to come upon such a notion?!”
Error shrank beneath Inks gaze. The skeletons eyelights were currently a teal question mark, and a green tear.
“I-I… u-umm… I lived on the other side of the mountain… I-I l-left so I could find the other demons and um… live with them?” He pulled the blanket up over his head like a hood. “Am I really not a demon?”
Ink shook his head “No you’re a monster. Demons aren’t real. Demons are malicious killers and stop at nothing to destroy….” He tipped his head to the side in curiosity “how did you end up in the human valley?”
Error fidgeted with the blue strings on his blanket. “I think I was… created? Some people called the… umm… the demon cultists did it.”
Ink asked tentatively “were you born of a human child sacrifice?”
Error shrugged “I don’t know…” he ducked his head “sorry,” he mumbled.
Ink gently told him “There is nothing to be sorry for. To me, it sounds like you were just born in some undesirable situations. The important thing is you’re here now, with the other monsters!”
Error was quiet. He felt like he had done something wrong, but Ink wasn’t acting like he was bad. Error asked in a quiet crackling voice “How did humans make a monster?”
Ink sighed “Well, little one… Some humans are good, and others are not. If it was the demon cultists which caused this, you were probably born if a fallen monster latching onto a human form.”
Error tipped his head up at him “huh?”
Ink hummed “ok, how to explain… Y’see when monsters die, we turn into dust. Think of it like dirty powdered magic. The demon cultists use monster dust in their rituals. Does that make sense?”
Error stared at him in confusion. That sorta made sense? He was feeling kinda hungry though and couldn’t think straight. “Do you have food?” He asked out of the blue.
The other skeleton was startled by the question, but quickly showed cheer “yes, we have plenty of food down in the valley!”
Error gave a little frown “oh… but that’s so far…” He was hungry right now!
Ink laughed “Not when you know magic, little one! Come, I’ll show you!” He stood up and Error followed him, blanket wrapped around his shoulders. However, he let the blanket hood slip off his skull.
Ink grabbed his calligraphy brush and lifted it like it was the lightest thing ever. To Errors great surprise, he swung it making a splat mark on the grassy floor.
The black inky puddle began to shimmer, and Ink gestured towards it “This is a portal! It will take us to the village! There, we can get you food, clothes and a place to live! Does that sound nice, little one?”
Apprehensive of the puddle, Error gave a cautionary nod. “But how does it take us to the village?”
Ink explained while grabbing his flute “we jump through it and then reappear in a similar puddle in the other side!”
Errors bones began to crackle in fear. He wasn’t sure about this… Ink noticed and offered out his hand “Would you like to hold my hand? I promise you; my portals are very safe, little one!”
Error glanced up at the taller kind skeleton offering out his hand. He reached out, and grabbed Ink’s hand, the sounds of their bones clicking together. He realized with a start that inks hands were multicolored like his! Inks we’re black and white, while his were black, red, and yellow.
This brought a little smile to his face and let a little more confidence through.
Ink asked him “You ready, Error?”
Error gave him a nod and they jumped through together.
***
Years later, Error was now in his young adult age. He has grown much taller than Ink by now, much to the older skeletons dismay.
Error now lived in the little house near the village along with Ink.
He remembered first arriving in the monster village and accidentally setting someone’s house on fire out of excitement. This bright a smile to his face.
Error was currently sitting in their designated sewing room, letting the hours of the twilight light stream down upon him as he embroidered.
He readjusted his well-worn, red-rimmed, circular glasses as he stared down at the huge loom he was working on. This was a piece he had been working on for a while now, using his blue strings to embroider details into the fabric.
It was a picture of the mountain. Ink had been helping him dye his blue strings so they could be colorful to use. He frowned slightly in concentration as he did stitch after stitch on the piece.
Someone entered into the room, their bare feet clicking against the floor. Error looked up and his face brightened as he smiled at who had entered. “Dad!”
Ink smiled fondly at him, coming to stand beside him while looking at the embroidery. “ Hello Error!” He admired the work Error had done “This is really coming together! It’s going to look beautiful all hung up!”
The flames on Errors body cracked in pride at his adopted father's praise. The sparks accidentally singed a few little holes in his black and red kimono. But he didn’t mind. He could repair it later.
Ink asked, “would you be willing to help me with dinner?” He placed a hand on Errors shoulder.
Error chuckled turning to face him. “Yes, I can help with that, dad.” He smiled up at Ink.
***