InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Devour Prometheus ❯ Retribution Waits ( Chapter 11 )

Disclaimer: These characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and other associated companies.

 

 

Chapter Eleven: Retribution Waits

 

 

Skin pale but for the stark splatter of blood dripping down his cheek, Sesshoumaru lay motionless where he fell, the whispers of the struck miko seemingly unheard. With every darkening moment that passed, her sacrifice lost meaning as his life remained within the warriors' mercy. To his survival, she clung and her hand twitched as she gathered the strength to move it. He had to escape. He had to live. It wasn't too late.

 

An agonizing burn in her shoulder and back overwhelmed her brain with excruciating pain. Sweat drenched her skin and her vision whirled with dizzying spots of light filling her eyes. Closing them and gritting her teeth, she pushed through the nausea and hurt until her hand slowly rose. As if broken beyond repair, her body resisted. But despite it, she pushed herself to move, creeping shakily across the short distance between her and the daiyoukai.

 

A jolt of pain wrenched a wet cry from her lips as a sandal clad foot stomped down on her extended hand. Pinning it tightly, the delicate bones bent under the guard's weight and Kagome gritted her teeth hard to stifle her cries to a whimper. Echoing indistinctly above her, the heavy voices of men decided her fate, their words muffled by the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. She though did not need to understand what they said to know their intent. The flash of steel as the guard beside her raised his sword was enough.

 

Floundering pitifully, the miko tried to free herself from the anchor of his foot. While she had accepted that her death was inevitable when she pulled the needle from Sesshoumaru's body and stabbed Kioshi through the back, a part of her still struggled to keep going. The will to survive pulsed through her, but even as it pumped, she slowly discovered that it was only as great as what awaited her at the battle's finish. With guilt and loneliness as future companions, her desperation faded to apathy and she realized that she did not care to welcome the dawn. After all, Inuyasha was dead and soon she would join him with the only solace being that her end would be a good one.

 

Slipping through the air, the long blade floated by until it disappeared to hover over the back of her neck. Aching breaths slowing as she waited for the line of silver that hung dangerously over her to drop. Finally, a painless darkness fell over her faculties as an icy chill coursed through her body and she knew it was time.

 

A vicious growl.

 

Droplets splatter on her cheek.

 

Blinking away the blurriness in her watery eyes, a familiar, striped wrist filled her sight. She followed it to a hand and the sharp blade it gripped, the steel cutting into the flesh. A jagged snarl sliced through her dulled hearing and hot, ragged breaths singed her ear. Slowly, she turned her head to find the brilliant glow of red eyes and gleaming fangs.

 

Unmindful of the cut deepening across his clenched palm, the enraged youkai lord yanked on the sword, pulling the guard along with it. Onto his knees, the man stumbled and before his surprise could wear off, there was a spray of blood as Sesshoumaru's free hand slashed his throat.

 

Stunned by terror and disbelief, Jianyu and the last guard looked on in a trance as the fallen warrior pierced the air with bubbling, high-pitched screams. Desperately, the man fought against the daiyoukai as he was flipped over onto his back, his blunt nails clawing the demon's forearms and reaching for his face. Unfazed by his flailing victim, Sesshoumaru dug both sets of claws into the center of his chest and then without the hesitation of mercy, he pulled them apart. With the snapping of bones and the tearing of flesh, he ripped open the guard's ribcage.

 

Panicked shrieks escaped the man as he stared in abject horror at the bloody hole in his chest and his beating heart peeking out beneath the mangled tissue. Pain flooded his delirious mind and he feebly pulled at the youkai lord's arm as the demon reached for the rapidly pulsing organ. Slippery as it throbbed in his hand, Sesshoumaru tore the heart free from its arteries and veins, blood spurting as the guard's final scream ended in a gurgle.

 

Fangs ripping into the dense organ, the daiyoukai tore off a chunk of the heart and swallowed it whole. Quickly he devoured it, the settled blood gushing from its chambers and down his chin as he ate. Soon it was finished and he reached for the dark color of his liver. With a firm jerk, he freed it from the dead guard's abdomen. Hands trembling, he swiftly wolfed down the softer organ with the shakiness of a starving animal.

 

Quaking as badly as the hungry demon, Jianyu took a step back, slowly edging toward the door behind him. Suddenly, burning, red eyes discovered him and the merchant turned and fled from the room. Abandoned to the appetite of the daiyoukai, the remaining guard sprinted away as well, the loud thumping of their shoes thundering down the stairs outside.

 

Snarling in disgust at their cowardice, Sesshoumaru's glare left the empty doorway for his stained and naked body. Winking gold, acupuncture needles protruded from him at all angles. Grimacing from the stings, he began to delicately pull them out, careful not to let them jingle as he set them down. The last one finally removed, the sensation of his youki flowing naturally bolstered his strength and his attention then floated to the open wound in his abdomen.

 

His claws found the slender pins keeping the broad slash agape and he began to extract them, scowling as his tender flesh stuck to the slivers of metal. As he removed the last pin, the flaps of skin and muscle hung loosely and he gathered them together to close the wound. Sickly green in color, a light began to glow under his cupped hands and the gash slowly sealed. Shivering from the effort, perspiration dappled his skin as he concentrated on healing. Then his youki faded and the light-headed feeling of exhaustion conquered his faculties. Swaying slightly, he lingered in a daze until the stinging beneath his hands sobered him back to reality. Leaning forward, he then examined the cut. Closed, but not completely healed, the inflamed line of a scar disfigured his smooth skin. Touching it tenderly, he traced the slightly oozing roughness, noting that any great strain would rip it open again.

 

Twisting hard with hunger, his stomach ached and the daiyoukai gritted his teeth until the surge of pain subsided. Desperate to feed, he looked to the guard's empty husk before him. Shredded by claws and broken ribs, the unsavory remnants left him disgusted and he tossed the corpse away. In a shrine brimming with enemies, he knew there would be better meals to be had shortly. Faced down not far from him, Kagome's limp body caught his attention. Meals that were perhaps more readily available than he thought.

 

Smoldering rage burned in his chest while he stared at her, flaring up as he considered each betrayal brought by her hand that night. That she sacrificed him to the hunters did not wear on his opinion of her nor did her staunch defense of the rights of humanity above those of youkai. The acts were deserving of death, but to slay all who were simply misguided and ignorant would leave the world barren of wisdom. After all, an enlightened priestess could influence the lives of her compatriots better than a martyred one. However, carefully weighted decisions did not fit this miko. Inuyasha, as foolish and as contemptible as he was, deserved better than what was done to him and for vengeance, she would know the same end.

 

His eyes narrowing, Sesshoumaru began to slide across the floor toward Kagome. The fabric of her coat was torn with a long slash at her shoulder and a deep puncture in her back, each sticky with blood. As he crept closer, disappointment brewed as it seemed that her life had already been bled from her body. To kill her would have been cruelly satisfying, but he could not deny the poetry of her death at the swords of the humans she had chosen to follow. Another pang of hunger shuddered inside of him and he reached for her arm, wondering how sweet her flavor would be. Grasping her slender wrist, he dragged her toward him.

 

“Sesshoumaru,” Kagome murmured.

 

He continued to pull, darkly pleased that he had been wrong about her death.

 

“Sesshoumaru.”

 

He flipped her over, his claws lightly slicing through her coats to reveal her soft chest.

 

“Sesshoumaru, get up. You're free.”

 

Sharp nails ghosting over skin paused and the youkai lord stared at her face, his attention fixed on her mumbling lips. What had she said?

 

“What?”

 

“You're free,” she repeated, her body beginning to shiver from exposure and shock. “I cut you free.”

 

Following the smear of blood back where she had been struck down, the glint of a dagger caught his eye. He remembered the black-handled blade well. It belonged to the miko who had dissected him earlier, the violation and anger still fresh in his memory. Twisting slowly, he turned to spy up at the boulder behind him. Severed ropes dangled from it, their new ends cut clean. The truth spoken, she had freed him and the corpse a few steps away proved how. Indisputably dead, the masked priestess lay in her own puddle, the tiny point of a needle protruding through her chest. The events falling into place, he now understood why Kagome had been felled by the guards.

 

“Hn,” he snorted, his hand finding her jaw and he turned her face toward him with consideration. Then his hunger shredded his insides again.

 

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

 

The wetness beneath her chilling her skin, Kagome weakly tucked her limbs together as her warmth was steadily leached out into the bloody floor. Numbed by pain and fatigue, she scarcely noticed the shivering that wracked her body, focusing instead on the heaviness that pressed her to the ground. Death she had hoped was near. After all, through the shadowy haze of her sight, she had heard its cold voice and seen its blood-stained face with piercing, golden eyes.

 

Echoing shrilly, the earlier shrieks of terror that were followed by a sudden end still lingered in her ears and the envious side of her lamented how swift the death had been. Hers seemed to drag on with agonizing length and she wondered if it was what she deserved. How many had suffered because of her ignorance? How many will suffer because of her final decision? Yet, whether it was punishment or justice, she just wanted it all to stop, so that she could have her peace in oblivion.

 

Then another coughing fit seized her liquid-filled lungs and she shook hard with each convulsion. Blood sputtered from her lips and she clenched at her chest until the spasms subsided and her breathing evened out. It would seem that life would not let her go so easily.

 

Light and welcomed, the sudden sensation of weightlessness overcame the heaviness of her body and she felt herself begin to rise from the ground. A smile grew on her lips at first, believing that her time had come, but the feel of claws gripping her collar at the nape of her neck swiftly twisted her expression with confusion. Sesshoumaru had picked her up. Then came the feel of his muscular shoulder as it pressed against her stomach. He draped her over it, leaving her arms and head to hang down one side of his broad back. Through her foggy vision, she could make out the matted tangle of his red-dyed hair and the splattered floor just beyond it.

 

Then the ground spun as the daiyoukai turned on his heel to face the door. Stepping quietly, he began to cross the room, his ears tuned to the shouts and clamoring of the rallying men outside the pagoda. He didn't have much time.

 

A black and red blur, Kagome gasped as the corpse of the imperial miko passed through her downward sight. Carved open, the dead woman's body was emptied of the more palatable organs. Seeing what had become of her, a pang of remorse struck Kagome and she recalled the priestess who was now twice betrayed by her own sisterhood. Her guilt over her contribution though remained only a twinge. She had done what she had thought was right, just as Kioshi had done what she had believed in as well. Either way, it wouldn't matter for much longer.

 

Out into the smoky hall, the youkai lord moved, swiftly and lightly navigating around the incense pots to the stairwell leading down. Bare feet padding down the steps, he arrived to the second floor and then strode down the narrow way to the heavy door at the center of the wall. With one hand holding the priestess, he reached out with the other, his claws scraping across the wood. It was here. His fingers then slid across to the handle and he pulled the door open.

 

Burdened with wooden crates and clay jars, a maze of tables filled the room. In silhouette as they lined the shadowy walls, bundles of herbs hung, their sweet scents obscuring the heavy tones of metal that clung in the air. Sesshoumaru walked to the closest table, picking up several of the small pots and letting their rims pass under his nose. Scowling in dissatisfaction, he returned each one with a clatter until one prickled his senses. He sniffed the glazed jar a second time and nodded. This one would do.

 

Swiping with his hand, he cleared the table of it contents with shattering results. Then he threw his occupied shoulder forward, letting the limp miko slide from him onto the table. Sliced up earlier, he pulled her tattered coats open, revealing her bare skin beneath. Wavering not a moment, he swiftly flipped her over onto her stomach and pulled the loosened cloth from her back. Bloody, but clean, he examined her wounds, noting the shallowness of the one at her shoulder and the concerning depth of the other in her back.

 

A contesting whimper mumbled from her as he ran his fingers over the cuts, but the demon paid her no mind and instead dipped into the paste within the jar. Oily and fragrant, he smeared it into the wounds, packing generous quantities into the deeper one. Her warming flesh tingling, he felt the oozing blood staunch and the tissue beginning to grow. It would not do much more than encourage healing on cuts so severe, but she would survive long enough. Long enough for her to answer about what she had done.

 

Casting about briefly, he spied a roll of bandages in a crate and proceeded to dress the wounds so that they would stay clean. Once finished, he turned her over and redressed her. Her breathing strong and clear to match her heartbeat, he now only had to wait.

 

Pounding in his sensitive ears, the footfalls of men drummed in the story below and the daiyoukai felt a growl rumble in his throat. The coward had finally summoned his army. Tightening his right hand into a fist, he tested the strength of his grip and a wicked smile hinted at his lips. He would enjoy this. A pale green glow then enveloped his fist, the light reflecting horrifically on his face. He would enjoy this greatly.