Tokazilla was born from fire and pain.
In the aftermath of the atomic bomb, when Hiroshima was leveled in a rain of nuclear flame, the survivors had little time to grasp the weight of their loss when he had arrived. They said that he had emerged from the epicenter of the nuclear blast like a butterfly emerging from his cocoon, leaving irradiated dust and rubble in his wake. Standing over the ruins, he let out a horrific, guttural roar, one that contrasted harshly against the youthful visage of the monster. That awful sound spread for miles, stirring further the tortured souls and ghosts of the lost people of the
He had made quick work of the town, finishing off what remained of it in barely a few minutes. When Hiroshima had been wiped clear of even the smallest sliver of its prior existence, he continued on to the next town to repeat the cycle, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. The Japanese military, already reaching it limits logistically, could do nothing against the great green demon. Their resources had already been completely exhausted fighting a futile front in the Pacific against the US, and now there was a monster tearing through the ranks like they were made of tissue paper. It wasn't long before Japan was faced with the prospect of its complete annihilation.
Then, once he began to approach Tokyo, the earth shook once more, and to the horror of humanity, more monsters emerged from the abyss. They seemingly crawled out from the Earth in swarms like an open wound, surrounding the boy kaiju as they all homed in on the city. For a moment, it felt like it was the end of the nation as a whole.
Suddenly, the monster that had been at the epicenter of all this madness, struck back against the beasts, seemingly turning on them out of nowhere. The great boy-kaiju knew nothing but violence, tearing into his adversaries without mercy. He tore the wings from great, winged beasts and gorged them directly into their chests, jabbed his bone-hide claws into the backs of tyrannical lizards and skinned them alike until he could use the scales as a flail, and tore open the bellies of writhing, gigantic chimeras so as to feast on the innards. There was no tactic that was beneath the monster, no low that he would not go to inflict as much suffering as he could. To see such an innocent face make such vicious, cruel expressions sent a chill down the spines of those who were unfortunate enough to bear witness to the carnage.
After he had vanquished every last one of his foes, the boy kaiju headed out towards the coasts and swan, cutting through the ocean like a blade. Any ships that happened to be in his way were torn apart by the spikes along the back of his spine, littering the waters as an impromptu graveyard.
Somewhere a bit beyond the reaches of Japan's domain, the kaiju disappeared beneath the water. Then, great geysers of magma spewed forth like a burst sewer pipe splaying sewage, spreading around and solidifying as a scab on the ocean's surface. Bigger and bigger did it expand until it reached a surface area comparable to Okushiri Island, before finally settling down. From the thick fog of steam, out emerged Tokazilla Island, forged from the sheer power and might of the kaiju it was named after.
Decades have passed since the boy kaiju had first came to be. As the nation began rebuilding itself, attempts were made by Japanese locals to establish exactly what the identity of the mysterious beast was, but to little avail. The most that could be gathered was that he bore a striking resemblance to one of the victims of the attack on Hiroshima, a 6-year-old boy by the name of Toka. No family could be established for him, so as far as anyone concerned, any parents the boy-kaiju may have once had were long gone.
None of this mattered to Tokazilla. Deep within the valleys he had forged, the boy-titan languidly rested amidst a patch of newly grown trees, his tail knocking down scores of them every once in a while. He had not aged in the slightest, not a single hair tucked out of place since the day humanity first became aware of him. No one could possibly imagine what his dreams could contain. Perhaps he was recalling the numerous times since WWII where he either rampaged across a certain segment of Japan or took down a kaiju with plans to do worse.
Whatever was the case, it would only be a matter of time before the monster's eyes began to stir. When they did, the fate of Japan would once more hang in the balance.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author