The Death of Ichirou
Ichirou moved closer and closer to the door. His sword was drawn, his senes alert, his mind filled with thoughts of vengence against Mamiya. He walked toward the entrance to Mamiya's Room. This was possibly the most important battle he would ever have. This..thing, a woman that used to be his wife, was now little more than a soulless demon, bent on destroying everything. He couldn't let this continue. This was his repentance. His last chance for forgiveness for his crime. After all, it was his fault this all began.
His fault their child died.
Ichirou opened the door. The room appeared to be empty. No sign of life was found. Still, what need of life was there? Mamiya was already dead.
Ichirou stepped into the room-and immediately filled a clammy hand clasp onto his leg. Ichirou looked down-and saw a rotting body lurching toward him. Ichirou quickly cut the arm off and ripped the hand from his leg. He turned-and saw a huge number of arms rip through the floor. What nightmare was this? The hoards of zombies surrounded Ichirou. A hunger-filled lust filled their eyes. Ichirou did what came naturally-he cut them apart. Blood flowed throughout the room. When the battle was over, the blood and bodies were piled in a corner, and Ichirou himself was stained heavily with their blood.
Ichirou quickly glanced around the room again. Nothing else was seen. Mamiya still eluded him. Ichirou prepared to leave when he heard a chillingly familiar voice behind him.
"Going somewhere, my love?" Ichirou remembered the voice immediately-Mamiya. He turned around, and saw his villainous wife face-to-face. Ichirou drew his sword. "This evil ends today," said Ichirou.
Ichirou was quick, but Mamiya was quicker. She quickly threw hhim clear into the pile of bodies. Ichirou felt the clammy remnants of his enemies latch onto him again, as if they would never admit defeat. Ichirou quickly cut through them again, and saw Mamiya once again. She simply stood there, watching him. She was perfectly relaxed-the kind of peace one would expect if they were dead.
Ichirou charged forward again, but once again Mamiya had the upper hand. She simply grabbed him and tossed him to the floor. However, Ichirou still refused to surrender. He jumped up quickly and slashed his sword straight through Mamiya. The blade caused a simple cut, but nothing more. Mamiya laughed at his feeble attempt, and lifted him by the throat. Ichirou struggled, but to no avail.
"My love, you deserve to die!" said Mamiya. And with that, she broke Ichirou's neck.
Ichirou suddenly awoke in the Mansion's courtyard. Had he fallen asleep? Was this all just a dream? He felt no wounds, no pain. he looked at his hands-or what were once his hands.
His hands were stained yellow, and small pieces of skin were peeling. His fingers were now claws. His clothes now appeared to be several years old. His vision was still blury, but the courtyard now appeared to be in horrible shape. It wasn't a dream. He had lost the battle. Mamiya had won.
He was now an undead.