InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Dangerous Allure ❯ I Am Me And She Is... ( Chapter 1 )

A/N: As with all my fics, all characters will be walking that fine line called OOCness, but some will definitely leap right over it and head for the hills. This is a DARK fic and it will remain DARK. This is a warning: This fic is not meant for the weak at heart, children under 15, or the strongly religious and it is not promoting a freaking thing. You have been warned, so read on at your own discretion. There will only be two chapters, so deal with it. This is not…I repeat NOT a love story. The only reason why I'm writing this is because I had this idea while driving to work one day and it just wouldn't go away, so I had to do something with it. I hope you guys like it!!!

 

Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership to anyone. They all belong to the wonderful Rumiko Takahashi.

 

I Am Me And She Is…

 

The room was quiet, serene almost, with nothing but the iridescent light of a few candles that she'd lit moments after they'd stepped into the rented hotel room.

 

The walls were covered in cheap, aged, paisley wallpaper that was peeling at the edges and bubbling in the middle; if she had to guess, she would have said that it had been there since the beginning of time itself.

 

There was a queen bed with four rickety, chipped, and battered posts sitting in the middle of the room with two barely standing nightstands on either side. And the sheets, the hideous looking puke green sheets, were an awful polyester blend that was sure to irritate the skin of anyone who knew the pleasures of true comfort.

 

Staring at her prey as his chest rose and fell in tune with his heartbeat, she smiled lightly because the sight of him reminded her that none of that mattered.

 

This place-in truth-at this very moment in time…was the only place that she wanted to be. This is where she could be free to let her wild side take over. This is where she could do things she normally…wouldn't. This was where she didn't have to worry about being found out. This… the red district…Tokyo's renowned slums, was her playground. This is where she could allow that mask that she wore everyday to fall to the wayside. This is where she could be…free.

 

If her friends knew… If her mother or brother ever found out… If her husband thought for a second… If they knew…

 

No, that could never happen, because they, no one, not one living human-being would understand why she felt the need to do what she did.

 

She scoffed dryly at that thought as she ran her hands lightly up her thigh high satin panty hose.

 

`They wouldn't be able to handle it.'

 

How many times had she done this? How many men had she brought to this place? How many of them had she met here in this district? How many had she met online and directed them to meet her here? How many aliases had she used over the years?

 

Somewhere along the way, she'd forgotten. Somewhere-as the days trickled into weeks and the months turned into years-she stopped counting because none of it mattered.

 

Running her hand over the tangled mass on her head, she glanced down at the street below and watched with hungry eyes as a few American sailors walked arm in arm with a couple of native Japanese prostitutes.

 

`An American? I've never had one of those,' she thought idly as she ran the tips of her manicured fingernails along the edge of her supple bottom lip. `Perhaps, I'll have to try it one day.'

 

At times when she was alone in her home in the upper class neighborhood of Diatshu, she'd wonder what led to this? What was so wrong within her that she felt that she had to do something like this in order to feel a small semblance of peace…of happiness?

 

She refused to make excuses for herself because she wasn't like any of the others that she'd read about. She hadn't come from a broken home. Her father, brother, uncles, nor her grandfather; none of them molested her. She wasn't bullied as a child. She wasn't starved for affection. And she didn't kill small animals when she was growing up.

 

None of that described her.

 

`It doesn't matter; I am me and she is I,' she thought as she slowly glanced over her shoulder at the man whose name escaped her.

 

He was one of the more attractive men that she had met over the years. His body was perfect in every sense of the word. His hair short and cropped about his shoulders, and his smile…that smile that he had flashed her when she met him 3 hours ago in the bar on the corner, almost…almost made her rethink her actions, but her need to be quenched was an insatiable thing, and in the end, it won over every sense of reason within her one-tracked mind.

 

Turning away from him, she directed her attention back down to the streets below as thoughts of sayings her mother had taught her over the years ran rampant within her mind, `What a wicked web we weave when first we practice to deceive. Regrets…regrets are for the weak and the foolish, the dumb and the feeble. There's a first and a final time for everything.'

 

She smiled at her reflection in the grimy windowpane. `My first time? It was the awakening of my soul. It was as if for the first time in my life, I was whole.' Glancing back at the man whose name she still couldn't recollect, she finished, `In the end it wasn't enough. That feeling…that wonderful fulfilling feeling was a fleeting thing. It…it drove me…fed me…made me who I am. I am me and she is I.'

 

Forcing away her somber thoughts, she allowed her hand to run smoothly over her Victoria's Secret bra and down to her hips that were clad in a pair of barely there lace thongs. There was no more time to dawdle, he was practically awake now and would surely be requesting her undivided attention.

 

Standing to her feet, she listened intently to the soft click of the heels of her black stiletto pumps against the abused wooden floor. Stopping at the side of the bed, she stared down at him. Her eyes filled with hunger and something that could have been misconstrued as desire.

 

Dragging the tip of her fingernail down from his chin, over his chest, to his well-carved abdomen, she realized for the millionth time that this craving, this need, this hunger that was buried deep down inside of her was not something new. It had been there since she was in the womb of her mother, it had been there since she was a child playing with dolls, and there was a very real possibility that it was there long before she ever was.

 

“Wake up, Sleepy Head,” she whispered seductively as she climbed onto the bed and sat beside him, her fingers now running sensually up and down his side.

 

Staring down at him as his eyes lethargically cracked open, she couldn't help but to wonder if he remembered anything at all. For instance, the manner in which they made it to the room. The drinks, their small talk…

 

He moaned and questioned almost incoherently, “Where…What…” His head twisted from side to side in a manner befitting someone that was lost, and then slowly it came to rest on her. “You?”

 

“Me,” she replied with a smirk as she leaned in and kissed him gently in the center of his forehead. “Don't tell me that you've forgotten,” she whined softly, her face set in a school girl pout.

 

She could tell by the way he stared at her that he didn't understand a thing that was going on, and, to be honest, that was the way she wanted it.

 

He didn't need to understand a damn thing, just lie there and let her have her way with him.

 

“The bar… I saw you at the bar. We were talking and drinking,” he whispered softly, his eyes pleading for her to enlighten him as to how they ended up here.

 

She would do no such thing. Instead, she would continue to play the game that she had created…the game that she lived for and would one day die for.

 

Sitting back, her hands on her hips, she stared down at him and observed sarcastically, “You sure know how to make a woman feel wanted, don't you mister?”

 

She still couldn't remember his name.

 

“I…I…” he mumbled as he stared at her unblinking.

 

She almost laughed at the deer-caught-in-the-headlights look that he was giving her, but she refrained.

 

“Did we… What happened? Did we have…” He swallowed as he fought with his eyes for them to remain open. “Did we have…sex?”

 

She could've told him no, but that would be too easy. So, instead, she stared at him, a telling smirk on her face.

 

`Let him believe what he wishes,' she told herself.

 

“No…No…No,” he mumbled, his head twisting spasmodically from side to side. “This can't be happening. I couldn't have. I couldn't have cheated on her.”

 

Her head tilted slowly from right to left as she stared down at him, totally intrigued. She had never had any of them break down before she was done with them, let alone cry over what they had supposedly done with her, or to her.

 

Most of them would take one look at her and let their imaginations run wild. They would let their egos inflate to the size of a good year blimp when the truth was they didn't remember…a thing.

 

“Why do you cry when we've just made love?” she asked. “You told me that it was the best you've ever had,” she continued. “You mumbled something about marrying me before you fell asleep,” she finished, a downcast expression marring her beautiful face.

 

She knew what she'd just said was all a lie, but this was a part of the game…her game.

 

He stared at her in abject horror, his eyes glazed. “She won't…she won't understand. I…I betrayed her. I…I betrayed my wife.”

 

If he hadn't been staring directly at her, she would've rolled her eyes. Men did not worry about such trivial things. They only sought to have sex, to get their dicks wet, to consummate with any and everyone. They did not care whom it was with, as long as it was done.

 

“She's home by herself. She's waiting on me. She thinks that I'm at work,” he offered as he tried to sit up, but quickly realized that his hands and legs were tied to the bed posts. “Please untie me. I…I have to go! My…my wife needs me!”

 

Ignoring his plea, she crawled up on top of him so that she was straddling his waist. “Tell me about your wife. What is she like? Why did you leave her at home by herself?”

 

The young man looked at her, a confused look on his face, but the guilt in his eyes; it was a palpable thing to bear. However, it did nothing to faze her in the least.

 

In all honesty, she didn't care about him or his wife; she just couldn't let him get away so easily.

 

“Do…do you really want to know? Why would you care?”

 

She smiled softly down at him and demanded again, “Tell me about her.”

 

He seemed to need a moment to think that over, but when he began, she could see the love in his eyes as he spoke.

 

“She's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. From the first moment I saw her, I knew I had to have her. I…I knew she was meant to be mine. She has a smile that could light up a thousand rooms and a laugh that's so infectious there should be a drug to combat it.”

 

`He really loves her.'

 

“She went into nursing right out of high school because she loved helping people, and…” He choked slightly as a tear began to trail out the side of his eye. “…and she would still be nursing if it wasn't for the accident.”

 

“The accident?” she queried quizzically.

 

“Driving home one night, she was hit by a drunk driver. That accident, it left her paralyzed from the waist down. Ever since then, it's been me…only me taking care of her.”

 

“Is that why you were here in the district? Because you can't have sex with your wife?”

 

He shook his head vehemently. “No…no, I was meeting a guy that was going to sell me a top of the line wheel chair that would help her get around the house easier,” he asserted, his eyes filled with pride and compassion.

 

She almost…almost felt bad, but almost just wasn't good enough.

 

He stared at her, begging her to understand something that her mind just would not allow her to comprehend, and then he finished, “I've never cheated on my wife. Not once in the seven years that we've been married. Never-not once, even after her accident.”

 

`Is he saying this for my benefit or his own,' she thought absently, but quickly came to the realization that…it really didn't matter.

 

She could have also taken that moment to relieve the poor man of his unwarranted stress about their supposed consummation, but she forewent that thought and instead leaned down and kissed him in the center of his head. “You are…” She then kissed both of his eyes. “…the sweetest man…” She kissed the tip of his nose. “…that I've ever been with. And your wife is a lucky…lucky woman.”

Sitting back, she stared down at him as if she was trying to memorize every groove of his face, every wrinkle in his lips, and every inflection in his voice. As she slowly leaned forward over him, she allowed her right hand to reach beneath the pillow he was laying on while her other hand slid carefully beneath the pillow to his left.

 

“You should have stayed home with her because, unfortunately, tonight…is not your lucky night, my gentle friend,” she whispered as she slid the tip of the needle she had hidden earlier slowly into the soft flesh of his armpit.

 

Leaning down as he bucked slightly against her, protesting what she was doing to him, she covered his mouth with hers in what she had labeled as the goodbye kiss.

 

Sitting back, she watched as his body relaxed.

 

`One'

 

She watched with wondrous eyes as his blinks became lethargic.

 

`Two'

 

She watched closely as he silently begged her not to do whatever she was about to do.

 

`Three'

 

And she watched with amazement as a solitary tear rolled from each of his eyes.

 

`How sweet,' she thought acerbically.

 

She supposed that anyone else would have felt some sort of remorse or perhaps would've changed their minds, but this was not her choice to make. It was his and he had made it when he accepted the laced drink she'd sent him via the bar maid, earlier that night.

 

`The choices we make,' she thought as she leaned forward quickly and licked one of his tears away.

 

Bringing the scalpel up to where he could easily see it, she whispered to him as she toyed with the tip, “Don't look at me like that. I am just as human as you are.”

 

She knew that he was as good as done at this point because once the cocktail she'd injected him with took effect; he'd be nothing less than a stuffed teddy bear perfect for a child's playful game of vivisection. He would lay there fully aware and able to hear, and feel…everything, but he would not be able to move a single…solitary…muscle.

 

She knew that at this very moment her prey was silently begging her not to do it. She knew he was probably screaming feverishly within his mind for help. She knew he was more than likely praying to every god he knew of to stop this, but only she knew that God didn't exist because, if he did, he wouldn't have allowed her to be born.

 

“Your God, my friend, is not one you can rely on. So please, don't waste your energy,” she offered with a smile as she brought the tip of the blade down swiftly, driving it deep into the soft flesh of his chest. Raking it slowly in a downward fashion, she moaned orgasmically as every nerve in her petite body sparked to life.

 

“Hmmmmm,” she moaned sensually as her breasts arched forward and her head fell back onto her shoulder blades.

 

This was what she loved. This…this was what she lived for. This…this…this was what she craved every second, every moment, every day of her life. This was the game…her game, and she loved it.

 

Pulling the blade out with a sickening pop, she leaned forward, but not low enough that his blood would transfer to her. Sliding the scalpel slowly into his side as if she was merely slicing into a loaf of bread, she nuzzled his nose, while simultaneously inhaling the air that he exhaled as she methodically dragged the blade down his side, ripping him open.

 

Kissing his mouth once more, she sat back and watched with a child's bewilderment as his eyes that once held life, hope, and light slowly began to grow dull and ashen.

 

`Hojo… That's his name,' she thought absently as she switched the scalpel to her other hand and repeated the process on his other side. This time she made sure, she dug in just a little bit deeper so that the damage to his organs would be irreparable and life threatening.

 

As the pool of blood grew around the body, she pushed up and stepped off the bed, the scalpel clasped loosely in her hand. Stepping back away from the body, she couldn't stop her mind from wondering, `Is his spirit in this room with me right now, or is it running home to console his soon to be grieving wife?'

 

Turning away from the body, she made her way over to the window sill she'd vacated less than 15 minutes ago and sighed softly as she allowed that feeling of oneness, fullness, and joy to flow over her once more.

 

`I am me and she is I.'

 

Staring out the window, she watched with the fixed eyes of a lioness watching a pack of zebras as a bus unloaded another group of sailors on to the street below.

 

`I am me and she is…,' she started silently as she pulled the wig she was wearing from her head. Running her fingers through her own long, black mane, she walked over to the decrepit looking mirror and quickly plucked the green contact lens from her eyes.

 

Sparing a moment of respect, she smiled sweetly at the reflection of her numberless victim.

 

She'd read in one of the many books, that supposedly had her kind figured out, that she was supposed to take a souvenir of some sort. She always laughed at that part of the book because the best of her kind needed no souvenir to remember their conquests.

 

Staring at the reflection of the woman that everyone adored, respected, and expected the best of, she smiled genuinely and whispered softly, “I am me and she is…”

 

The sound of her cell phone cut through her thoughts with the vicious snap of a slave master's whip. Staring at it with bored eyes; she sighed lightly and slowly walked over to retrieve it.

 

Flipping it open with one hand as she slipped into her black trench coat, she whispered seductively into the phone, “Hi baby, I've missed you,” as she calmly buttoned up her coat, and situated her satchel on her shoulder.

 

“I'm just leaving the office, I should be home within the hour,” she lied without batting an eye as she opened and closed the door behind her.

 

Until Next Time…(Your .02 cents are greatly appreciated)

 

Next Chapter: Redemption's Song