InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Angel ❯ Darkness ( Chapter 83 )

Chapter Eighty-Three:

Darkness

Miro peeked from behind the bedroom door, fear clogging his throat.

Mira stood with her back to him, facing the wall. She held herself unnaturally still, hair matted and knotted, skin splotchy and deadly pale.

She hadn't moved for hours.

Hadn't made a sound.

He gulped.

Something was wrong with Mira. Ever since that day on the hill, she'd been acting…weird….scary. She stared at him, a hateful, sinister gaze that often made him cry. She moved stiffly, as though her joints were locked, each movement producing a cracking noise.

She didn't speak, barely ate and he had yet to see her sleep.

They had shared a bedroom their entire life, but with the situation rapidly becoming worse, his parents had moved him to their bedroom and forbidden him from returning to his old room.

He wasn't supposed to be here, he knew that. Dad would have a fit and mom would ground him.

He couldn't help it.

He had to see her. As much as he knew he irritated her, he knew she loved him. They'd been closed, even when fighting with each other.

Now.

He didn't know her.

Didn't know who or what had control of his sister.

It wasn't her. It was some kind of monster, he was sure of it. A low moan/growl reached his ears. His sweaty hand clenched the doorknob.

He felt overheated and weak. A soft whisper faded in and out of his ears. The sounds terrible, the message they conveyed unspeakable.

Terrified, he forced himself to move, to shut the door on his possessed sister.

“Miro,”

Miro froze, brown eyes wide, petrified at the soulless, rough voice of his sister.

Crack….crack……….crack……

He stared, shocked as her dark head turned, body still, face nearly facing him.

His weak limbs shook, his lip trembled and tears of fear slid down his cheeks.

Empty brown eyes captured his own, her roughened lips splitting into a smile so wide, her chapped lips bled. The nightmarish expression twisted, dark mouth opening wider than possible for a young girl.

Crack….crack…

Miro tripped, heart pounding painfully as her head turned even further.

“HELP ME MIRO!!!!!!!!”

The words thundered in his ears. He screamed, slamming the door and running as fast as his legs could carry him to the living room where his parents and the local priest resided.

The adults stood at the sound of the door crashing against the wall.

“Mooooooom!!!! Mooooom!!!!!” he cried hysterically, throwing his trembling form into her strong arms.

He was crying, screaming, clawing at his mother, feeling as though he'd never be safe again. He could barely hear the adults comforting him, trying hard to calm him down, to figure out what had happened.

Miro couldn't calm down, could stop shaking.

His sister or whatever that creature was had begged him for help, screamed his name in supplication, but that thing, that hideous thing hadn't moved its lips.

~~~~~~~~~

“It's a gateway,” Toramaru said from his seat across from his brother, “to where, we do not know. We have no clue who is behind it and who is increasing it's size,”

InuTaisho growled.

He and his brother were becoming increasingly worried. The portal that had mysteriously split the sky a week ago was become bigger, it's poison spreading. Possession, chaos, disease and darkness, it was growing. The death of young females had increased dramatically, the `disease' reaching even the richest families.

Sango's daughter Mira had been infected several days ago and showed no signs of improvement.

His advisor and his wife were beside themselves with worry.

Miroku spent hours, tirelessly sifting through holy books, medical scrolls and ancient documents in an effort to cure his daughter.

So far, there hadn't been any headway into treatment.

“That fucking dragon,” InuTaisho growled, “he has yet to be accounted for, and Torao is still `missing',”

Toramaru nodded, face serious.

“His guilt is to be declared among the lords and elders at next month's meeting,” he informed his elder brother, “there's no doubt about it. The evidence, while a bit shaky, is no coincidence. Each place he's visited, a woman is sickened. He's gotten sloppy, careless,”

InuTaisho clenched his fists.

“More like he has ceased caring to keep his facade in tact,” InuTaisho snarled, “that bastard is embroiled in something big. Whatever it is, he is a mere pawn,”

InuTaisho turned angry golden eyes to his brother.

“That son of a bitch has set events in motion that even he cannot stop,” he declared, “I've felt this power before, I'm sure of it. That day I left to battle the Evil Six and was ambushed and locked away,”

Even the thought of that prison brought rage to the forefront.

“It's the same energy, the same evil, the same suffocating power. That devious tiger had a hand in my imprisonment,”

“He has to be stopped,”

“I've drafted orders for his immediate capture and imprisonment as soon as he is located. The soldiers dispatched have orders to bring him back alive,”

InuTaisho bared sharp white teeth.

“I look forward to extracting information from him,”

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

Sango gripped her Hiraikotsu, eyes narrowed at the beast rushing towards her.

The boomerang ripped through flesh and bone, the demon screaming in pain. Sango barely heard the noise. Unsheathing the short sword at her hip, she stood over the bleeding creature.

Without hesitation, she brought the blade down.

Blood splattered her her cheeks and forehead as she ruthlessly carved out the still beating heart.

The beast sputtered, wailing in agony.

Gripping the organ tightly, she severed the heavy veins. She stood, dismissing the dying demon. Grave brown eyes observed the organ, looking it over to be sure it was pink and healthy.

Silently, she mounted Kirara and headed home.

She was desperate.

Desperate and scared.

Mira was getting worse.

She howled at night, screamed bloody murder during the day, banged her bloody fists against the wall all afternoon. She didn't eat, she didn't drink, and Sango was positive she didn't sleep. When she wasn't screaming, she whispered.

The sound, God the sound, horrible, soul grating low tones that didn't sound remotely like Mira.

They wrapped around any who dared listen, urging the listener to do horrible things.

They were at their whits end.

The exorcisms where useless, medicine was a joke and they'd been forced to confine her to her bedroom with powerful sutras.

The barrier was holding so far but Sango wasn't foolish enough to think it would last much longer. Whatever force gripped her little girl had such strength that even the local priests feared being alone with her. Several had refused to help her, stating they couldn't put their own souls in peril.

Sango fought back tears.

Cowards.

This was a child they were refusing to help. A vulnerable young girl that was in desperate need of help.

She scowled, angrily wiping tears away.

Blood smudged her face.

Fuck them.

Her jaw tightened.

She's save her daughter no matter what she had to do.

They landed. Sango hopped down and made her way to the front door. Kirara rumbled behind her, the sound worried. Sango barely noticed.

Miroku stood in the door way, arms crossed, hair mussed and clothes rumpled.

Initially reluctant to go through with her plan, he had voiced his concerns about the consequences of going through with this. She'd done it his way first, watched priest after priest, holy man after holy man fail to heal her daughter.

She was done waiting.

Though she sensed his disapproval, he'd yet to nay say her aloud.

She was glad for that. She was already on edge. Had he tried to stop her, she might have hurt him. She liked it no better than he but dammit they didn't have a choice.

Heart in hand, she moved over the dark cauldron and the wilted, old woman.

She was a well known witch of some renown, her specialty; dark magic. It was said she was quiet familiar with many doing of the unholy. She'd agreed to examine Mira in exchange for fifteen fresh demon hearts, three nuggets of gold and a bag of human eyes no older than a year.

Sango tossed the heart to the stooped woman.

A frail, gray hand caught it.

“Yesssss,” she wheezed, “Well done,”

“Can you help her?” Sango demanded.

The elderly woman nodded and dropped the heart into the boiling concoction. She reached into a pouch at her side and sprinkled foul smelling crushed vegetation into the brew.

The liquid bubbled and popped.

The woman dipped a wooden bowl into the disgusting stew. Her old hand shook as she brought the foul soup to her lips and swallowed it down.

The green gunk dripped down her chin.

The woman tossed down the empty bowl away and made her way down the hall. Sango and Miroku followed a sedate pace. They'd sent Miro to Lord InuTaisho for the next few days. For that, she was grateful. Her young son was traumatized by these events and though it pained her to send him away, she couldn't focus on helping her daughter and protecting his psyche all at once.

The crone stopped in front of her daughters bedroom.

She touched the door, eyes closed.

Several tense moments of silence ticked by.

Gasping, she back up, her wrinkled face scrunched in shock.

"He is here!” she exclaimed.

“Who is?” Miroku demanded.

The woman ignored him, dropping to her knees, head to the floor.

“My king!” she cried.

“What the hell is going on?!” Sango demanded, pushing her husband aside.

The door opened, and the adults quieted. Mira stood in the doorway. Her eyes glowed red, her pupils the size of saucers. Sango and Miroku took a step back, the disgusting aura radiating off of their daughter slithered over their skin.

The old woman crawled to the little girls bare, cracked feet. To their revulsion, the crone kissed her toes, speaking in reverence in a language neither of them had ever heard.

It was grating to their ears.

An unholy dialect that burned.

They covered their ears, disturbed. Sango stepped back, the darkness of those words too much to be borne.

Then, her daughter's mouth opened.

Horrible syllables spilled out. Sango screamed, hands crushed against her ears. The words, they were hell! The essence of insanity! The remnants of an endless pit of lost souls! It was killing her! Tearing her apart from the inside out. Unraveling her very being.

Bile spilled from her lips. Sango heaved, head spinning, skin crawling.

Miroku gripped her waist, pulling her from the house.

Outside, she collapsed on hands and knees, retching, crying….screaming! Miroku held her hair back, holding his own stomach in pain.

He wiped the tears from his face, forcing back his own urge to be sick.

Never in all his life had he ever felt anything like that. It was beyond evil, beyond sinister. It was the epitome of all that was ungodly. An agent of hell, escaped from the darkest bowels to roam the earth.

Fear blasted through him, tightening his gut. He wasn't sure if it was him or Sango trembling like a leaf in a hurricane. He didn't care. He was scared out of his mind.

He looked back at the house, the darkened doorway mincing.

Movement.

Miroku tensed, Sango screamed. A figure, shadowed, moved closer. Miroku scuttled backward, dragging his hysterical wife with him. He gripped a blade tucked in his robes, his grip tight, palms sweaty.

His jaw tightened, holding back screams clawing at his throat.

“Daddy,” came a quivering, familiar voice.

To his shame, he gripped his blade tighter, fear slamming through him.

Mira moved slowly from the unnatural darkness, tired and sobbing. She reached out to him, looking for comfort, seeking safety. Terrified, he pulled his wife further from the little figure.

Mira stumbled closer.

“Stop!!!” he screamed, his voice high pitched and cracking.

“Daddy,” she implored again, confusion coating her voice.

A cackle ripped through the tense scene. The crone stood atop their roof, cauldron in hand. Her body cracked as she straightened, her pupils unnaturally wide.

“Take her,” she encourage in a deep scratchy voice, “We have no need of her now,”

The woman roared with laughter again, leaping into the sky before disappearing from sight. A thump brought his eyes swinging to the door, lifting his blade in fear. His daughter lay crumpled on the ground, dark hair covering her little face.

Sango pulled slowly from him, her body weak.

“M-Mira,” she whispered.

Slowly, she crawled to the limp body.

“Sango,” Miroku hissed, grabbing at her arm.

Sango pushed his hands away, creeping over to her child. Her heart was pounding, her muscles trembling.

“Mira,” she called softly.

Sango moved to the child's side, her shaking hand reaching out. She hesitated, hyperventilating. Her blood rushed in her ears as her hand descended, gently pushing the dark strands away.

Familiar brown eyes stared back at her. Dark circles stood out against her skin, dried blood crusted around her eyes and nose.

“Mommy,” she whispered.

Tears blinded Sango's eyes, distorting the image of her little girl. Sango scooped the frail body into her lap, her emotions bursting free. She cried, screamed and wailed, gripping her daughter as tight as she dared.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Rykotsu stared up at the sky, barely noticing the blood running from his nose and ears. Above him, the portal screamed, the noise scraping against his bones. His teeth were clenched, fingers digging into the calloused flesh of his palm.

So it began.

The slithering creature wrapped in darkness and lightening was growing.

It's power increasing.

Another six months or so and he was sure the portal would be wide enough, deep enough for that monster to reach this plane of existence. He coughed, lungs rattling. Nose scrunching in distaste, he spat the contents of his lungs onto the dead grass at his feet.

Blood and mucus sizzled, burning into the ground.

He winced at the pain.

It never got any easier. If anything, it worsened rapidly, especially when he was close to the portal.

His bleeding eyes wandered over to the figure propped against a bolder.

“Let's go,” he commanded.

Torao wheezed, hands covering his ears. At least the old fool had ceased his panicked screaming. His traumatized eyes looked up at him, beseeching him to let him rest.

Rykotsu had no sympathy.

Where would such an emotion get either of them?

They were both doomed, Torao in particular. The foolish male had bargained his soul in an effort to rid himself of InuTaisho. The creature with which he had made the deal had tricked him, merely imprisoning the great dog demon, though, according to the wording, had fulfilled the terms of the contract.

There had been no words of killing, no specification of how long InuTaisho was to be removed from Torao's path. He was sure the hotheaded tiger had thrown an epic fit once he learned of the loophole.

Now.

Now he realized he'd sold his soul for naught.

That eternity was a long time.

If he had been capable of it, he'd have pitied the foolish, pathetic tiger.

“He will not be pleased if we delay,” he informed the slouched figure.

Torao growled, his eyes suspiciously bright. Shaking, he pushed himself from his seated position, the movement requiring an extraordinary effort and will power. The old man was running on empty.

“Where to now?” Torao panted.

Rykotsu pulled a map from his kimono sleeve. He looked at the squiggles and lines. He took in the eight red circled areas that had yet to be crossed off. He described their next destination, informing him of the tasks that were to be completed.

Torao sweated, anxiety blooming on his face.

The next series of actions would be excruciating, for both of them.

Tiring and painful.

Rykotsu just wanted this over with.

Elder Torao was determined to drag his feet. While Rykotsu was irritated with the male, their master was quickly losing patience.

He debated informing the tiger that he was dangerously close to real suffering.

Suffering Rykotsu might have to endure as well, depending on that creature's mood. Rykotsu decided against it. Just to see that tiger squirm, he'd endure.

He would be the first to admit he could be spiteful.

Petty even.

He disliked the other male enough to stomach the torture just to see the tiger scream. His dry lips curled, splitting and bleeding. The thought alone was enough to give him more enjoyment than he'd had in several weeks.

Torao crawled over to him, his dirty hand gripping his hakama in an effort to pull himself up.

Rykotsu frowned, amusement rapidly dispersing.

How pathetic.

How grotesque.

A miserable demon that had bitten off more than they could chew.

They were alike. Too much alike. A pair of shitty beings that should never have been given life. Disgust tightened his gut.

He kicked the male from his clothing.

“Let's go,” he commanded again.

Torao groaned.

Brown eyes narrowed. Rykotsu spit at the male's feet, turning away in the direction of their next destination.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you all enjoyed, I know a couple of you all were asking what InuYasha's sons name is, but I kind of don't know what to call the little brat, lol. Any suggestions are appreciated. Please review!!

Hey Sam, I sent you an email, not sure if you got it yet, will send you another, thank you for reviewing!

Laters!

~Sessakag