#Mugen Yume: The Life and Dreams of Tamio Enmu

[arwenkenobi48]

Mugen Yume: The Life and Dreams of Tamio Enmu

Chapter Two: Beautiful Lies

[WARNING: This chapter contains themes of gaslighting, suicide, mental breakdowns, blood and death. If any of these topics are distressing for you, then please take care of your mental health first and foremost. Only read on if you’re in the right state of mind to do so. Without further ado, here it is.]

“Take a deep breath. In and out. That’s it. Just relax and focus on the watch as it sways back and forth. Back and forth…listen to the gentle ticking and the soft sound of my voice. Very good. The longer you listen to my voice, the longer you focus on the watch, the more you feel your eyelids growing heavy. You’re getting very, very sleepy, aren’t you? So sleepy…when I count down from five to one, you will fall asleep, your mind still listening to my every word. Are you ready? Mmm…good. Five…four…three…two…one. Sleep now.”

With these words, Tamio Enmu snapped his fingers. He watched with a smirk of satisfaction as the young woman closed her eyes, her head drooping forward ever so slightly. Like every other person who entered his office - patients, clients, subjects, whatever he wanted to call them - she was now in a deep trance, her mind a blank canvas waiting to be painted by the artist’s cunning hand.

“Can you hear me, Midori?” “Yes, sir…” Her voice was soft, as if she was taking in her sleep. “How do you feel? Calm and relaxed, hmm?” “Yes, sir.” “Ahhh, perfect…” Tamio could barely contain his delight. “Now, my dear, tell me all that troubles you. Soon, all your problems will just float away, like a distant dream…”

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The perfectly synchronised ticking of a hundred watches filled the workshop. Each one crafted by hand, a work of art, a mechanical marvel. Tamio’s eyes looked around the room in a dazed manner. If this was really his father’s workshop, what a curious place it was. If it was a dream, then how beautifully strange a dream he was having.

Eventually, the boy’s gaze settled on a table, a perfect replica of a miniature railway set upon it. Standing on the tips of his toes, Tamio peered over the table top and pressed a small button. The tiny train seemed to spring into life, its rails clacking rhythmically as it embarked on its endless journey. Round and round it went, going nowhere and everywhere all at once.

“Ah, I see you’re showing interest in the family business, son.” His father’s voice made Tamio jump a little. “I’ve been working on that train for about two months now,” Taro smiled as he approached the table. “I hadn’t got around to testing it out yet, but it looks like it works perfectly, wouldn’t you say?”

Tamio looked up at his father’s face, so alight with an almost childlike eagerness as he tried to coax a response from his introverted offspring. The boy looked back at the train, then at his father again. “Papa, is this a real train?” “Haha, of course not, Tamio. It’s only a model.” Taro laughed a little nervously.

“I know. I mean, this is real, right? It’s not a dream, is it?”

Taro’s smile began to crack, now only serving as a mask for his sadness. His shoulders visibly slumped as the last faint spark of hope drained from his teal eyes.

Every time Tamio asked that question, it instilled more and more dread within him. No matter how many times he tried to assure his son that this was real life, no matter how often he tried to form a bond with him, he never made any progress. Tamio would just outright refuse to believe any of it was real.

At first, Taro had been willing to believe that Tamio just needed a little compassion, but ten whole years of the same experience over and over again had driven him to his breaking point.

“Oh, I don’t know. Is it all just a dream?” Taro uttered a strange laugh that sounded more like a stifled sob. He practically staggered over to his work desk and slumped over it, his head buried in his hands. His hair, once combed to perfection, was now an unkempt crop that longed for a proper wash.

Tamio tilted his head curiously to one side, slowly walking to his father’s side. “Papa?” Taro looked down, his eyes brimming with frustrated tears. Tamio didn’t even look worried, just mildly perplexed. In an instant, a whole decade’s worth of bewilderment, exasperation and emotional exhaustion built up and spilled down Taro’s cheeks.

“Tamio Enmu, if only you could just…feel something!”

Not even a hint of emotion showed on the boy’s face. He just tilted his head to one side again as if he was some sort of bird. “Like what?”

Taro couldn’t even bring himself to answer. With a groan of defeat and disappointment, he stormed out of the workshop, the door slamming behind him. An ornate silver watch fell off the edge of a shelf and Tamio caught it with both hands.

He held it up by its chain and gently swung it back and forth, his vacant eyes following each and every motion, the mechanical ticking drowning out his parents’ latest argument, both participants feeling utterly alone.

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“You can feel it, can’t you? All your worries and cares just drifting away. No more burdens, no illness to weigh you down. It’s all in your head, Midori. You can just wish it all away. You know yourself better than anyone, even those who told you you were sick. They were wrong about you. You are young and free, full of life. Do you feel that life within you, Midori?”

Midori smiled, her mind submerged in the depths of the trance. A tear of joy glistened on her cheek. “Yes, sir. I feel…so wonderful.” “Very good, Midori. You’ve done so well today. Now I’m going to wake you up, but don’t fret. This wonderful dream will stay with you and become your reality. It is your reality. You are cured of all diseases, ready to take on the world. Now then, take another deep breath for me as I count you up.”

“One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Wake up, Midori.”

Her beautiful eyes opened, bright with hope and happiness. Her hands, still trembling from the disease she no longer believed she had, clasped Tamio’s hand with an almost delirious sense of gratitude. “Oh, thank you! Thank you, Doctor! I don’t know what I’d do without you!”

Enmu simply smiled. He couldn’t help but pity her. Poor thing, she only had a few months left before the illness claimed her. She might as well spend her final days wrapped in a hypnosis-induced fantasy. After all, a beautiful lie was much more appealing than a painful truth.

And to think how strong and lively Midori had been in her youth. All those times she had skipped through grassy fields without a care in the world, her long hair flowing in the breeze. Enmu thought back to the days of his childhood, how he’d often watched Midori from the corner of the classroom. How she’d always catch him and quickly look away. But he knew she was smiling, even if she didn’t show it.

She was certainly smiling now, gazing at him with such pathetic adoration, as if he was some sort of guardian angel. Foolish girl, how could she have known that she was face to face with the angel of death?

“You’re most welcome, my dear.” Enmu gently caressed Midori’s cheek. “Come and see me again sometime, won’t you?” “Oh, I will. I will!” Midori’s voice practically sang with delight. “Thank you, Doctor Utsumi.”

The months of conditioning had finally paid off. She no longer remembered his true name.

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“Minister Takahashi? Well, this is a pleasant surprise. Please, do come in. Tell me, what can I do for you?” No sooner had the words left Enmu’s mouth, than the sharply dressed man who stood before him sank to his knees, despair written all over his tearstained face. “Please…please help me…” His voice was little more than a shaky whisper. “I’ve just received some very bad news…”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place, sir. Now, tell me all about it.”

And he did. Minister Takahashi’s words started out muddled and riddled with emotions at first, but after Enmu spoke a few gentle words, he managed to compose himself. “My doctor’s been lying to me,” the distraught man explained. “He’s been telling me I’m ill, that my health is failing, that I’m on death’s doorstep. Worst of all, he told me you’d been poisoning my mind! Doctor Enmu, please tell me it isn’t so! Please tell me it’s just another bad dream!”

Enmu’s lips pursed in a sympathetic pout. He gently placed his hand on top of his patient’s. “Hush, hush. Of course he’s been lying to you. What awful lies he’s been pouring into your ears. I would never hurt any of my clients. As for ill health, we’ve already discussed this, haven’t we? Do you remember what I told you, Minister?”

Taking a deep breath, Minister Takahashi nodded. “It’s all in my head. I can wish it all away.” “Exactly. Remember that these kinds of people can only harm you if you let them. Never let the words of a charlatan get into your head.” Enmu smiled gently. “I’ve already cured you of your ailments. You have all the time in the world to live your life. But if you’re really that worried…”

“Yes? Go on, what is it?” The man’s voice was raw with desperation. Enmu’s daydreaming eyes gazed back into his. “I suppose I could take you under again. Just to help you dream all those bad memories away. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” “Oh, thank you, sir. I think I need that.” “Perfect. Now, just take a deep breath, relax and listen to the sound of my voice. Soon, all of your worries will be nothing more than a dream…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The news shocked the entire region. When it was first announced, you could have heard a pin drop. Nobody could believe it. Nobody wanted to believe it. But they had no choice. The evidence was clear. Minister Takahashi was dead.

He’d been found hanging from the branch of a tree behind his family’s home. A note was found in his pocket, but what it said left more questions than answers. ‘Doctor Enmu lied about everything.’

What started as shock soon turned to sorrow, but the sorrow just as quickly turned into anger. How could someone manipulate the minister to such a degree that it would lead to his death?

When he was first diagnosed with his illness, the doctors told Mr Takahashi that there was still hope, that he could receive some treatment to relieve the pain. But he’d refused after visiting the shady hypnotherapist mentioned in his suicide note. He’d not only refused any and all treatment that could have saved his life, but he refused to believe he was ever terminally ill in the first place.

Even when his wife and children begged him to take some medicine and to see a real doctor, he wouldn’t listen. He just kept repeating five words, over and over, with a faraway look in his eyes. “It’s all in my head, it’s all in my head, it’s all in my head…”

But the truth was not in his head. It was unavoidable, even when under the influence of hypnosis. All it had taken was for Mr Takahashi to look in the mirror and see the face of a dead man staring back at him. Then he knew what was going to happen.

Even as he had prepared to do something he couldn’t undo, he’d made sure that his killer wouldn’t get away with his crimes.

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Tears poured down Kyoko’s face, her anguished sobs filling the house. As she pounded her trembling fist against the floor, her shoulders heaving, only one coherent word came from her mouth. “Why!?” She screamed, her once warm and gentle eyes now emptied by horror and betrayal. “Why? Why? Why?”

Enmu stood before his mother as she lay sobbing at his feet. “Oh, mama…” he whispered, kneeling down to tilt her chin up with one hand. “You’ve always looked so beautiful when you’re in pain.”

“Get your filthy hands off of her!” Taro wrenched his son’s hands away from Kyoko, who curled up into a foetal position, still bawling. The watchmaker’s entire face was distorted by rage, his glaring, reddened eyes burning with tears, his teeth gritted. “Why, Tamio? Why did you do it? How many suffering souls did you lead to their deaths!?”

“I just wanted to give them happy dreams,” Enmu’s carefree smile only increased Taro’s disgust. “It’s more fun that way, when they open their eyes and find that their reality has become a living nightmare.”

Taro’s eyes widened in horror, his tears spilling. “Why, you…You disgusting little bastard!” Before he could stop himself, Taro clenched his fist and punched Enmu hard in the face. Seeing this, Kyoko cried out in anguish.

“Papa…you hit me…” Enmu slowly turned to look at his father, but his face bore a look of elation rather than pain. As Taro watched, his anger and disgust mounting, Enmu’s mouth stretched in an uncomfortably wide smile, the kind of smile that didn’t reach one’s eyes. A trickle of blood ran down his chin, his lower lip split open.

“You hit me…” Enmu repeated, an unsettlingly childlike giggle emerging from his mouth. “You hit me! You hit me! Oh, I just knew you would!” He was practically jumping for joy. “Do it again! Again, papa! Let me feel your hand on my face once more!”

“No, no! Get away from me, you sick monster!” Taro reached into his pocket, pulling out a knife he’d once used for making metal engravings. Kyoko cowered in terror as she watched her husband pull a knife on her son.

Perhaps it was through a warped maternal instinct, or a hallucination brought on by her mind shattering from a truth too painful to bear, but in that moment, Kyoko saw Enmu not as the man he had become, but the boy he once was. Her baby, taking his first steps, trying to form his first words, giggling playfully as he approached his father, who was now holding a knife and preparing to stab him. “NO!” Kyoko shrieked, rushing towards them as a struggle ensued. “NOT MY BABY!”

Everything blurred. Taro pushed Enmu to the floor, raising the knife, but as he brought it down, the blade pierced his beloved wife’s heart instead. Taro’s wail of grief shook the walls of that dark, dark house. Kyoko coughed up a mouthful of blood, choking out her final breaths. “T-Tamio…” she whimpered, tears still running down her pallid cheeks. “My…little…baby…”

The light faded from her eyes.

Taro sank to the floor, cradling his wife’s body, unable to do anything but sob over and over again. “I’m sorry, Kyoko! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

Several droplets of his mother’s blood trickled down Enmu’s skin as he sat upright, his face still twisted in sadistic ecstasy. “Look, look at what you’ve done, Papa. What a beautiful dream this is…”

His soulless grin, the blood on his hands, the realisation that his worst nightmares had come true. It was all too much for Taro Enmu to take.

When his body was discovered, he was found slumped against the wall, one lifeless arm still holding his wife’s corpse, curled up in his lap. In the other hand was the knife, with which he had slit his own throat. Not a trace of their son could be found. He seemed to have vanished into thin air.

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Following Tamio Enmu’s disappearance, rumours began to circulate that alongside instigating Minister Takahashi’s suicide, he was also the one responsible for his parents’ horrific deaths. Some said that he had brainwashed his parents into killing one another, others claimed he had murdered them both and framed it as a suicide.

The more the rumours spread, the more they grew into grim tales, whispered in hushed tones among fearful crowds. Some parents even began warning their children to stay away from men claiming to be doctors, no matter how friendly they seemed. An omnipresent dread lurked everywhere.

The foreboding urban legend of a heartless doctor who could brainwash people into ending their lives spread near and far. It wasn’t long before these rumours reached the ears of a very dangerous individual.

Strolling down the dark streets on a dark night, he overheard the dark tale and resumed his journey with a dark purpose. Muzan Kibutsuji ran the tip of his tongue delicately across his thin lips. He was looking forward to devouring his next meal.

[arwenkenobi48]

Mugen Yume: The Life and Dreams of Tamio Enmu

Chapter 1: Birth of a Dream

(A/N: After much deliberation I decided to publish this fic on my tumblr account. Mainly because I’m procrastinating in terms of sorted out my AO3 account. But at least I’m not procrastinating when it comes to writing this thing. Anyways, hope you all enjoy the first chapter! Kinda went out of my comfort zone for this one but it’ll be worth it in the end.)

Hush now, my child

Sleep well, my child

Sleep soundly, my child

Deep in your dreams

As the stars twinkle, sleep

Safe in my arms, sleep

Until the dawn comes, sleep

Deep in the sweetest of dreams

His small form swaddled in a warm blanket, the baby yawned softly. As the sweet lullaby filled his ears, his little thumb found its way to his mouth, his blue-green eyes slowly closing as he drifted off into sleep.

Smiling lovingly, the young woman gently carried her son to his cradle, lowering him down into his own little safe haven. “Sweet dreams, little Tamio.” She whispered.

And dream, he did.

As Tamio’s mind transported him to dreamland, he saw all sorts of wondrous sights, heard such beautiful music, felt such amazing feelings. It was incredible, beyond description.

Even though he didn’t know the words yet - not any words other than his mother’s lullaby - Tamio wanted those beautiful dreams to stay with him.

That carefree happiness, that light, airy feeling, that angelic sensation of being able to float among the stars.

He wanted to feel like that all the time. He wanted it more than anything else in the world.

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“No good can come of this,” Mitsuo shook his wizened head, his eyes lowered in disappointment. “It’s simply abhorrent, having a child under these circumstances. You can scarcely afford to feed yourself, let alone a baby.”

Kyoko felt his words cut through her, sharp as a needle. “I’m sure we’ll manage, father. Taro and I will be married soon enough.” “You’d better be.” Mitsuo’s frail hands clenched. “But there’s one more thing I need to know. Something you’ve neglected to tell me.” Kyoko swallowed a lump in her throat, her heart and stomach dropping as the inevitable question was asked.

“Is it a boy?”

Kyoko’s face went pale. She drew in a long breath in an attempt to hide her fear, but the sound alone was a dead giveaway. Mitsuo knew the answer. His gaze only grew more stern.

“Kyoko, how could you do this? You know what happens to the males of this bloodline.” “Yes, father.” “Every single one has succumbed to the Mugen Yume curse sooner or later. In fact…” His voice trailed off, before he addressed his daughter in an accusatory tone. “How do I know this isn’t all just another nightmare?”

“I promise you it’s not!” Kyoko clutched his hand. “If you could only see my little Tamio. He’s as far away from a nightmare as an infant can be!” “See him? See him?” Mitsuo’s thin lips curled up in a mirthless smile. His bony shoulders heaved with a hysterical laugh as he wrenched her hand from his grasp. “Is that your idea of a cruel joke!?”

Though his eyes seemed to stare at Kyoko, Mitsuo only knew where she was from the sound of her voice. Such was the result of the Mugen Yume curse. Those ghastly dreams still followed the old man, every waking moment filled with the dread of reality itself distorting around him. Even purposely burning his vision away did little to help. He could still sense the monsters in his nightmares watching his every move.

“Father, I’m sorry…” Kyoko whispered. “I only meant that-“ “It makes no difference.” Mitsuo growled, his laughter ceasing as quickly as it had begun. “The fact that it’s a boy is enough. He is already doomed.”

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Doomed. How could anyone say that of a life that had only just begun? As Kyoko recalled her father’s words, she gazed down at her infant son. He was sound asleep, his stomach rising and falling with each gentle snore. Tamio smiled in his sleep, no doubt having the sweetest dreams a 12 month old could have.

Kyoko tried to put on a brave smile, but even in solitude she couldn’t manage it. Recalling her father’s warning had somehow tainted her happiness at becoming a mother. Like mould creeping into the corners of a scroll.

Even if Tamio was condemned by the curse, he was still her baby. Even if he wouldn’t be able to tell whether or not she was real, he was still her baby. Even when the day came when he could very well kill her, as had been the fate of many women who had borne sons in her family, he would always be her baby.

“Darling? Are you coming to bed?” Her husband’s whispered voice roused Kyoko from her train of thought. Taro Enmu stood in the doorway, a mixture of affection and concern in his eyes. Kyoko glanced at her baby once more, then silently left the room.

“What’s wrong, my love? Your hands are shaking.” His words caused a pang of guilt inside Kyoko as she laid her head on Taro’s chest, his nimble fingers gently running through her hair. “Just thinking about what Father said before we married. About…the Mugen Yume curse. I can’t get it off my mind.” Taro held his wife closer. “Oh, darling, you mustn’t worry about that old superstition. How do you even know this curse is real?” “Well, he said it was.”

Taro sighed. He’d had this conversation before. “With all due respect, dear, I wouldn’t consider a man who blinded himself because of a bad dream to be a reliable source of information. Besides, even if this supposed curse is real, we’ll make sure that our son will be the one to break it.”

Kyoko knew she ought to have been angry at her father being talked about in that way, but she wasn’t. She hadn’t even been able to shed a tear when he passed away. Taro’s way of being both encouraging and brutally honest was simultaneously reassuring and confusing.

“How can you be sure?”

Taro planted a gentle kiss on his wife’s forehead. “We’ll raise our son right.” He promised. “We’ll teach him right from wrong, we’ll give him all the love and care he needs. He’ll know what’s real and what’s not. And someday, he will be a good man.”

Even after Taro fell asleep, Kyoko lay awake until the early hours of the morning, mulling everything over. She wanted to believe her husband’s words and for the most part, she did. But she couldn’t shake that feeling of anxiety.

She didn’t want to believe that the Mugen Yume curse was real, but every single male in her bloodline succumbing to insanity for the past six generations definitely couldn’t be a coincidence. Especially when it had all started with them not being able to distinguish between dreams and reality.

Eventually, as she floated on the uneasy waves of a feverish sleep, the young mother could only hope and pray that somehow, the curse would break. Maybe it would. Maybe Tamio was the boy to break the evil spell.

Maybe, one day, it would be nothing more than a distant, faraway dream…

[arwenkenobi48]

Mugen Yume: The Life and Dreams of Tamio Enmu

Chapter 4: Childhood Nightmare

[Author’s Note: Well, here it is, the penultimate chapter! This was actually the first one I started writing, believe it or not. I can’t believe this project’s nearly over, I’ve had a blast bringing it to life. Warning: This chapter contains themes of childhood trauma, psychological distress, blood, gore, grief and murder. If any of this is distressing for you then please take care of yourself and only read on if you’re in the right mindset. Without further ado, here it is.]

The night was still and silent. Too silent. There wasn’t so much as a breeze. Through the open window of a solitary house, nestled on the edge of a small village, an insomnia-riddled man in his mid twenties tried in vain to fall asleep.

As Hiroshi lay curled up on his futon, his back to the window, he didn’t notice the strange figure slithering in towards him. The nights had never been easy. He hadn’t slept properly for many, many years, not since his mother’s passing when he was a young child. And yet, exhaustion crept up on him, like the hands of an old acquaintance.

The hands slowly covered his weary eyes, gently pressing his heavy lids down. A light, airy voice, soft and sickeningly sweet, whispered to him. “Sleep now.”

Tamio Enmu couldn’t believe his luck. Of course, the first human he happened to come across this night was none other than Hiroshi Murakami. It was like a dream come true. Now, he could finally get his own back.

Having been human not too long ago, Enmu’s memories of his past life were still intact for the most part. He could well remember those dreadful days of being in school, the sneers and cruel laughter of the other students. But all the teasing and taunting paled in comparison to how Hiroshi made him feel…

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“Hey, Tamio! I’m talking to you!” 15-year-old Enmu slowly looked up without blinking, his faraway eyes meeting Hiroshi’s stern gaze. “What the hell’s wrong with you, man!?” Hiroshi’s voice was like rusted metal; harsh and bitter. Enmu blinked slowly, bewildered. “I don’t know. What is wrong with me?” “Do I really have to spell it out for you, freak? I saw the way you looked at Midori during assembly period!”

“You mean…you could see her too?”

Enmu’s reply only infuriated Hiroshi further. “Listen, creep,” he growled, poking Enmu’s chest with his finger. “She’s my girl, understand? She’s mine and I’m hers. She doesn’t want anything to do with you, not after that stunt you pulled last week! So just leave us alone!”

“What will you do if I don’t?”

Hiroshi’s eyes narrowed as he said in a low tone: “I’ll make you wish you’d never been born.” His finger was still pointing threateningly at Enmu, who stared at it passively. Slowly, ever so slowly, he leaned forward as if the tip of Hiroshi’s finger was a rare specimen he was inspecting under a microscope.

Then, with a movement so fast and mechanical that it seemed almost inhuman, he opened his mouth wide, lurched forward and snapped his teeth together with a sickening CRUNCH!

Naturally, hearing the scream of agony from their top student, the teachers came running. They saw Tamio standing over Hiroshi, who was on his knees, clutching his hand and shaking with pain. “Hiroshi! Are you alright? What happened?” They all asked.

Hiroshi’s finger was bleeding, small rivulets of scarlet running down it and dripping onto the floor. Trembling and hyperventilating, Hiroshi looked up at Enmu. “He did it…” He whispered, his eyes wide with fear. “He…he bit me!”

Enmu lowered his head. “I’m so sorry, Hiroshi. I don’t know what came over me.” The words were remorseful enough, but as Enmu uttered them, his once faraway, daydreamy eyes were now as sharp as a snake ready to strike. A smirk tugged at the corner of Enmu’s lips as he continued staring at his ‘bully’. A stare that seemed to say “I’m capable of much worse than this and don’t you forget it.”

There were many children like Hiroshi in that school. They all acted the same. Laughing, teasing, calling Enmu names. They’d make fun of him for his vivid dreams, for being a ‘freak’, for not being like them. But none of them had gone this far before. Hiroshi didn’t know it at the time, but he’d made a decision that would cost him his life.

That very life was now in Enmu’s hands. That fragile mind, like a piece of the delicate glasswork Hiroshi’s mother had so loved to make, was about to be shattered beyond repair. Enmu had already seen into the memories of his old foe. He knew everything about what made Hiroshi human. He knew what he loved. He knew what he dreaded. And he wasn’t going to waste any of it.

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Hiroshi found himself in his childhood home; a humble little house in the country. It was a beautiful spring morning and he was a 6 year old boy again, full of innocence and wonder. He gazed out the window, watching the cherry blossom trees in full bloom. The gentle melody of wind chimes blended harmoniously with the chirping of birdsong and the bubbling of a nearby stream; the ode to a perfect dream.

“Hiroshi? Come here, dear!” A familiar voice called. Hiroshi’s little heart leapt with joy. Could it really be her? He scampered through to the next room, the room adorned with his mother’s ornate glasswork.

Dazzling colours danced around the room, the spring sunlight enveloping the walls in a magical glow. But that was nothing compared to the heavenly aura surrounding a beautiful woman in the centre of the room, clad in a pink kimono. Though he had been only seven when she passed, Hiroshi knew her face and the maternal warmth she radiated.

“Mama!”

Tears of joy running down his cheeks, Hiroshi practically leapt into his mother’s arms. “Oh, mama, it’s really you! I’ve missed you so much!” “I’ve missed you too, my little one.” She smiled, gently ruffling her son’s hair affectionately. “My sweet little boy, look how much you’ve grown. You’re going to be a fine man someday.” She took his hands and they danced around the room, laughing in delight.

In his sleep, Hiroshi smiled and chuckled, a tear running down the bridge of his nose. It was slowly wiped away by Enmu’s pallid hand. “Awww, isn’t that sweet?” The demon wheedled. “I knew it all along, dear Hiroshi. All that strong, manly front you put up when we were children was just a facade. You’re still just a weak, pathetic little boy who misses his mommy.”

Hiroshi, still in the rapture of the dream, naturally couldn’t respond. But Enmu didn’t care. “It was such a shame, how she died all of a sudden, one winter night…” Enmu sighed wistfully. “How you found her blood-soaked corpse lying in the snow, her chest and stomach torn open, her face and limbs twisted in agony…” Enmu sighed again, a look of pure bliss on his face, his mouth stretching to an unnatural width. “Let’s see if you still remember that awful night.”

“Mama? I wish you could stay here for always and always!” Hiroshi smiled, hugging his mother as she sat cross-legged on the floor. “I want to stay too, little one,” Her warm voice replied. What she said next changed everything. “But I can’t.”

Hiroshi suddenly felt a spike of cold dread hit him. It was like being impaled on an icicle. With a gasp, he realised he was no longer in the warm house he had once called home, but out in the snow, surrounded by dark, ominous trees. Worst of all, there was blood on his hands.

With a shriek of alarm, Hiroshi looked down and saw his mother as she had been in her final moments; torn apart as if by a wild animal, soaked in her own blood, screaming in agony. “Hiroshi!” She howled in a terrible voice. “Why did you have to stay out late, playing in the forest!? Where were you when the demon came and tore me apart!?”

Hyperventilating, Hiroshi began to cry. “I-I didn’t know, mama! I’m sorry!” “Now I’m in Hell because of you!” The corpse growled, her hands now skeletal claws that reached out as she crawled towards him, leaving a trail of dark crimson blood behind her. “You were supposed to protect me! But no, you ran away when I needed you most, just like your father!”

Tears pouring down his face, Hiroshi screamed again and began to run away, but it seemed like he wasn’t going anywhere, despite running as fast as he could through the endless, snowy darkness. He turned around and was greeted by an utterly horrific sight. His mother’s corpse scuttling towards him, her broken limbs cracking with each movement. Her head was shaking violently, an inhuman snarl morphing her now fang-filled mouth. “You did this…” she growled, her voice growing shriller and more demented with each iteration. “You did this. You did this! YOU DID THIS!”

“NOOOOOOO!” Hiroshi screamed and awakened. But the waking world offered no comfort. As he sat upright in bed, drenched in his own sweat and urine, he looked straight into the glowing eyes of a demon.

It was more than his psyche could handle. Hiroshi Murakami broke down and cried like a baby. Enmu wrapped his arms around the traumatised man and began rocking him gently back and forth; a twisted mockery of a parent soothing their child. Running his fingers through Hiroshi’s hair, Enmu began singing part of the lullaby his own mother had sung to him many times before, ending the once innocent verse with a morbid twist.

Hush now, my child

Sleep well, my child

Sleep soundly…and forget to breathe

A single quick twist of the neck was all it took. Then, just like that, it was over.

Enmu relished his macabre meal with delight, savouring every mouthful of raw human flesh. That look on Hiroshi’s face - the very picture of pain and horror - was utterly delightful. Sure, Enmu’s clients had also borne that expression at some point, but they’d all lived afterwards, albeit briefly. To see that face, that sheer terror, moments before death…it was beautiful. No, beautiful was too simple a word. It was like a dream. A wonderful, sweet, heavenly dream.

Yes, that was all it was. A dream. A dream from which Tamio Enmu never wanted to awaken.

[arwenkenobi48]

Mugen Yume: The Life and Dreams of Tamio Enmu

Chapter Three: A Grisly Rebirth

[WARNING: This chapter contains blood, gore and body horror. Reader discretion is advised.]

The demon’s footsteps were careful and quiet. He crept through the dark, hardly making a sound. Like a living shadow, he seemed to glide down the dark, winding road towards a small, abandoned house. His keen nose sniffed at the air like a wild beast, his hunger for human flesh insatiable. There was no mistaking it, the man he’d been searching for was in that house.

Ravenous as a tiger, Muzan Kibutsuji approached his unsuspecting prey…

Tamio Enmu lay on his futon, staring up at the ceiling, his hands resting behind his head. A dreamy smile was on his lips as he softly hummed the tune of his mother’s lullaby. His eyelids fluttered and drooped as he began to drift off into a deep sleep.

The sound of footsteps awakened him immediately. Opening one eye ever so slightly, Enmu noticed a dark figure in the corner of the room. Silently staring, still as stone.

Before Enmu could react, the figure rushed towards him, its eyes wild with a raw, animalistic hunger, its fangs bared as it pounced on top of him, going for the kill. He gasped, out of surprise rather than pain, as the demon pinned him to the floor and sank its teeth into his flesh.

Muzan bit down hard on Enmu’s shoulder, tearing out a chunk of flesh, the man’s blood filling his mouth. “Your blood is…exquisite…” he murmured, almost intoxicated. “You’ll be a fine meal, Doctor Enmu.”

Enmu’s eyes widened in amazement. How did this demon know his name? Had he garnered such a reputation already? He knew rumours had been spreading and that many people - vengeful loved ones of the people he had killed - were searching for him, hence him taking up residence in an abandoned building. But for a demon to know his name? It was incredible.

Muzan’s claws dug deep into the skin of Enmu’s stomach. With a terrible, wet tearing sound, he slowly ripped the man’s stomach open, exposing his quivering organs. Drooling with delight, the demon began to devour his macabre meal.

Enmu’s look of surprise soon turned to one of glee. The pain of being torn apart, eaten alive from the inside out…it felt so beautifully agonising. A strong wave of delirious bliss swept over him, his eyes rolling back in his head as he giggled with delight. “Ohhhh, what a beautiful dream this is!”

Those words made Muzan stop in his tracks. He’d been expecting someone being eaten alive to scream, cry, attempt to fight back, plead for their pathetic life. But why didn’t this one do that? Perhaps he could be useful for more than just a midnight feast.

“You…do not fear me?”

“Fear you? Why should I? Your teeth sinking into my flesh is like the sweetest kiss. Your claws tearing me apart, the warmest embrace, the-ach!” Enmu coughed, choking on his own blood. The same blood that was now soaking into the floor. “Oh…thank you…” Enmu gurgled weakly, his life fading as he smiled in his delirium. “Now I can…dream…forever…” His large teal eyes began to close…

But all of a sudden, a fresh burst of energy came racing through Enmu’s body. It felt as though he was on fire. A bloodcurdling screech, so loud and shrill that it sounded inhuman, burst forth from his gaping mouth.

As Muzan Kibutsuji stabbed his tendrils into the man’s broken body, his dark demonic blood began pumping through Enmu’s veins. Still screaming, Enmu’s eyes rolled up into his head. His skin began to turn a sickly grey, the veins on his hands, neck and face bulging out and quivering horribly. His teeth sharpened into pointed fangs. His wounds healed instantaneously, but the pain intensified. Unable to control himself, he began convulsing, thrashing around wildly on the damp, crimson floor.

Muzan stood back, smirking in grim satisfaction as he admired his handiwork. This man displayed a level of sadomasochism he had never seen before. Perhaps he could put that to good use.

Enmu’s screaming finally stopped. All he could manage now was a few hoarse moaning noises. The pain lessened and was replaced by a warmth he had never felt before. It was like sinking into a warm vat of human blood. Enmu found himself drooling at the thought of it. Oh, how he longed to sink his fangs into a human’s throat and drain them of their blood while they writhed in pain…

“You show remarkable resilience and ruthlessness,” Muzan’s voice roused Enmu from his reverie. “And such skills are deserving of a sporting chance, wouldn’t you agree?”

As Enmu sat upright, he gazed at Muzan in awe, as if seeing him for the very first time. He looked down at his hands and saw the changes that had taken place. “What has happened to me?” He murmured in amazement. “Am I…a demon?” “Indeed.” Muzan replied. “I have heard of your exploits, Enmu. You already have the blood of many humans on your hands. You can feel that hunger for more growing, can’t you?”

“Yes, yes I can!” Enmu grinned ecstatically. “That’s what I like to hear,” Muzan smirked. “From now on, you will serve me. Never reveal the name of Muzan Kibutsuji to anyone, or I shall finish you off. Do I make myself clear?”

Enmu smiled, fondly looking up at Muzan as if he was in the presence of a mighty emperor. He dropped to his knees, an almost smitten look on his face. Lowering his head to the floor in an obsequious bow, the newly transformed demon uttered his reply.

“Yes, Master.”

[arwenkenobi48]

Chapter two is finally completed, as is chapter four! Chapter five is still in draft form and I haven’t even written a single word of chapter three yet. I’ll probably upload chapter two with extensive content warnings and start chapter three tomorrow bc I have a serious headache. It feels like I’ve just head-butted a watermelon. But yeah, I am over the halfway point for this fic already!

Watching the Mugen Train movie certainly helped to get the characterisation accurate (although many tears were shed, as I always end up bawling my eyes out whenever I watch it but my point still stands).

Who knows, I could have this fic ready before Christmas! We’ll just have to wait and see.

[arwenkenobi48]

Chapter two of Mugen Yume is turning out to be much longer than expected. Also debating whether or not to actually publish it on here because it takes a sharp turn into the disturbing. Ofc chapter three’s going to be quite a gorefest as well.

Think I’ll probably just publish it straight to AO3, but I’ll need more time to mull it over. It should be finished by either tomorrow or Thursday, depending on how the editing process goes.

Regardless, I’m making good progress and doing my best to avoid burnout 👍

Side note: It just kinda hit me like a truck how thoroughly evil Enmu is and yet he’s still stolen my heart bc I have terrible taste in fictional men 🥰

[arwenkenobi48]

Chapter two is in progress! Still needs a little restructuring but it’s roughly halfway there. Should be able to get it finished soon.

[arwenkenobi48]

Made a start on chapter two (albeit only a couple of paragraphs) and it’s going great 👍

[arwenkenobi48]

Chapter one is done, woohoo!

[arwenkenobi48]

The first chapter of my fic is nearly completed and I have to say, I really like how it’s turning out so far. Although I wasn’t expecting it at the time, it’s turning out to have some elements similar to Rosemary’s Baby. Heck, the main theme of that movie kinda reminds me of Enmu anyways.

Also, I finally decided on a title for this project. Mugen Yume: The Life and Dreams of Tamio Enmu. I think it fits very well. It’s most likely going to go up on AO3, once I figure out how to ‘orphan’ my old fics. Still can’t figure out how to do that.

The point is, it’s coming along very nicely and I’m learning to pace myself without procrastinating or getting burnout. I can’t wait to share this fic with the world!