His arms and body dangle a black and white striped Mokufu kimono, full of holes. He pokes his fingers through the ragged voids, noting the reddish stains there, some bright and fresh as new paint, some so dark as to be ancient. On the hem he lifts up to the dim light surrounding him, there is a little embroidered man hanging from a gnarled tree with a two-headed coin in its boughs.
All is hidden behind the stripes.
Suddenly a shadow falls over the room; the sound of slow plodding, heavy and near, echoes from everywhere.
The soft sliding of a plain shoji door into its envelope of wood.
Dragging across many doorways, as though several robbers are sacking the place and have all stopped to gaze on his lovely good looks.
A single hairy paw rounds the last sliding door.
Then a shoulder and neck. The huge head bobs back and forth at a disconcerting wobble, like the frozen ghost of a botched hanging.
It’s almost in the room.
A bedraggled… albino… furry… Ailuriform? Jack thinks, as his eyes follow the track of the other claw. There’s crusty blood everywhere, stuck to its matted fur like a layer of filth.
And oh yes, it’s dragging a naked body over the softly creaking floorboards.
A body with blue eyes.