InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Monster ❯ Part Two ( Chapter 2 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: CowgirlUSA 
The final showdown between the Inuyasha's body and Kagome. And as the dust clears, what will be the outcome?
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Horror | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 10.16.2005 | Pages: 5 | Words: 7.0K | Visits: 324 | Status: Completed
The final showdown between the Inuyasha's body and Kagome. And as the dust clears, what will be the outcome?
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Horror | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 10.16.2005 | Pages: 5 | Words: 7.0K | Visits: 324 | Status: Completed
A/N: I think there’s going to be 3 parts, just to let everyone know. In my opinion, not long enough to be an actual story, though my dear friend disagrees, since that’s all she writes. But I still luv ya girl! ::dodges pots and pans:: friend screams: They are too full length you dimwit!:: Yikes! Sorry! My bad! ::whispers secretively to audience ‘is not’::
FF.net: Special thanks to: Damian 2.0, INUYASHAS gIRL!, Neisha, Sin Ti, Silverbloodrain, Squeaky, and crazie-foe-u. Thank you for all your compliments, and your opinions, it means a lot. Remember, its 2/3 done, so one more chapter to go!
MM.org: To you guys, ::blush:: you guys make me feel so special. You are so nice to say all those things, and for you who said it was amazing, only in a longer version, and said it was the most bone-chilling, I take my hat off, thank you.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the Inuyasha characters, though how I wish I did. But of any of you steal my masterpiece, aka. plot to this story, I will personally order Inuyasha to use his Wind Scar on you. Thank you!
Category: Anime: Inuyasha
Genre: Adventure/Action/Angst/Drama/Horror/Romance
Rating: R (M) just to be safe, mainly for gore and descriptive scenes.
Summary: His eyes were deep pools of magma, burning and smoldering in the depths of the cave. His breath was hot embers against her deadening skin, burning and singeing her quivering body. And his talons were lethal knives, poised and ready, willing to slaughter all who got in his way.
Gripping her fingers into a fist, a short cry brought her drowsy figure back to the harshness of her reality. Rubbing her face, and clearing her hazy eyes, Kagome walked to the upset child, touching her head in a tender touch. Her eyes shone with hurt as the baby’s lungs were bruised, and as the tiny fists lashed out forcefully at the touch of the other.
Frowning, worry swept through her, tangling itself through her system as spider-webs of hurt formed around her constricting heart. Taking the child into her arms, something amiss was brought to Kagome’s immediate attention, and the blood flowing through her, grew oh, so very cold.
Fear shot through her, a pouring waterfall of awakening washing away the easiness of earlier and light forming on the new encounter. No one, beside the babe and she were within the home, all other’s gone far from sight. Nerves shot through her, and the miko ran into the next room, an eery silence falling within the building.
No one was in Sango’s resting room, her eyes falling on empty hollows that filled themselves with darkening shadows. Torments of grief took hold, and she wished beyond hope that all was well, and the end had not come. Her heart constricted, fear gripping it until it would not let go and leave her to rest.
Gazing down upon the pale face of the dead, she felt pin pricks form in the back of her eyes, and she slowly slipped away, hiding the pain behind a barricade that leaked so much. Kagome wanted nothing more than to forget, to let loose her anguish and let the abilities that were bred into her take hold.
Shaking her convulsing head, she carried Sakura further away from the home, searching for any sign of life, any sign of her loved ones. She couldn’t comprehend, fathom, that the possibility of what could be, of their possible outcome.
A twig. Such a fragile thing when pushed down upon with great force, for example, someone’s weight. Adrenaline came forth, coloring her features as she assessed her situation, the area was so quiet, so very silent. The forest’s hushed atmosphere set her on guard, her arm out and protecting the babe to her chest, the child who had grown so very still.
Breathing of another drew her ears to the direction, her eyes discerning each piece of foliage, and each clump of dirt. The air so pure, held an ominous rumor within its winds, carrying it along and whispering it tauntingly to the above trees. Their leaves danced with life, laughing and mocking her with scorn, the gnarled limbs poking out at her, trapping her from view of the blue heavens.
Gathering her courage, and willing each foot to move onwards, sirens of warning flashed before her doe eyes. Sucking in a breath for good measure, the young miko crouched low to the ground, crawling on threes, and cradling the baby with the other. How stupid, she thought, to bring a child out here, in the wilderness no less, with a deranged killer. Stupid. Counting the seconds, time seemed to stop as she moved her hand which she leant upon, and moved it towards the bushes. Oh how she wished it would cease, to stop the days from merging, to just forever be stuck in the one moment in which you had dreamed for, for so many years.
The priestess’ breath hitched, and fear crept its way up her spine as a prone figure lay upon the ground, his blood running fluently from his open wounds. The rich crimson color staining the earth, dying the florescent greens of the forest’s foliage. His haunted gasps of pain covered the acres, calling to them for support.
Her muffled cry of alarm directed his heated gaze towards her, his eyes taking in her form with precise movements. His muscles seemed to relax as he drifted back into the world in which pain did not exist, where his eyes became glazed and his muscles limp.
Grabbing medical herbs she had spied by his body, Kagome held them tight against his bare chest and arms, chanting words of old. Miko energy poured forth, closing the openings with its soft touch, its caressing motions tenderly massaging the ache from the bone. Her tears completed the action, removing the dark black that aligned several angles of his toned body.
Sakura squirmed for release, thrashing and hitting as she demanded her freedom, to lay freely upon the ground beside the male. Doing as the child wished, Kagome went on with her business, sneaking glances at the two from the corner of her eye, and wondering what had befallen the man? What did it mean to her, and the now pulsing medallion that hung, haunted, around her neck?
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Se veral hours lapsed, and Kagome felt her body weakening, giving into the demands of fatigue. Her eyes closed momentarily, resting her head against a large tree that rooted itself to the spot, and stood proudly amongst the others. She had no weapons, and her instincts told her that was not wise, but her mind told her she could not leave.
Turning once more, a look of sorrow marred her pretty features, etching themselves into her aging eyes. The two, identical in many ways, peacefully rested, their breaths even and deep as they dreamed dreams so sweet. Her hand flew to her chest involuntarily, scrunching the cloth that resided there.
The blaze illuminated her skin, its sickly coloration shining through the night, brightening the ink that fell over the lands. The miko’s ghostly eyes were hollowed with devastation, the endless tunnels leading far back to a place many did not dare to tread alone. Her hands shook, her body knowing fully that unlike others, she would walk that path alone, a solitary existence forevermore, for she could not risk the time dimensions anymore than she had already.
Fatigue was great, but the overbearing sense of survival surged deep within her veins, reviving her every time her eyes dared to shut. A single twig snap set Kagome on high alert, her ears perking as an owl flew overhead, calling out in its lonesome journey, searching for a substance to keep it living. The howls of the mourning wolves signaled a filling dread within her, was Kouga and Ayame alright? How was the pup or pups that were due while they battled? Was that chorus a grief stricken pact at the fall of a comrade? She hoped not.
Kagome rubbed the palm of her hand, mesmerized by each fine line that stretched itself along her flawless skin. Her fingernail traced the lines, tickling her hand as she went on, stopping suddenly when she came upon the lifeline, and how it seemed to continue on and on, never ending. The life of time, on and on, never ending, never slowing.
She had learned well from her past that things that were done, could not be taken back, could not be retracted. For, no matter what the deed, or how deep the apology, time remembered all, storing it within its memories forever, never to let it go again.
Kagome wanted so desperately for the monk to wake, for the safety of others to come once more and encircle her in its gentle embrace. She felt helpless, alone and feeble, she had no weapon, and there for completely helpless against any attack that came her way.
Unconsciously, her hand went for the pendant, grasping the cold metal within her hold, feeling the edges of the cross with great certainty. Her visage becoming blurred with tears as she remembered what she wished to escape. Her past that would not let her be, the returning nightmare that surrounded her from all sides, consuming her whole.
Rustling nearby drew Kagome away from her troublesome thoughts, saving her from the malice that lurked in the corners of her unguarded mind. Peacefully pulling her away from the danger that wanted nothing more than to rip her heart out, tear it to shreds, and leave her for dead.
Twisting, her eyes met violet, clear, unyielding, violet, that shone with life and clarity. Kagome threw her arms around his neck, pulling him close and sobbing with joy as each intake of air brought him further back. His steady heartbeat furthering her confidence in his continuing life, his strength regaining second by dwindling second.
“Shush, Kagome, I am alright,” the monk clung to her as well, reliving the horrors that had so previously passed.
“You were so still, hardly breathing, I thought you were going to die like Sango,” his breath hitched, and reality raced back to him, breaking his soul slowly.
“I haven’t, and shan’t if I can help it, but do not heed my troubles now, for Kaede will be in need of assistance,” he pulled away from her, clutching her shoulders for his and her comfort.
“She’s probably already gone, Miroku,” he understood her reasoning, for deep down she seemed to have a sense of where the elder one had gone.
“No, she’s not. Weak, yes, very much so, but alive none the less,” nodding her head, words were traded, and the two parted ways, the monk staying behind, hidden well within the coverage, and the miko racing to the village, her destination, her weapons.
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Villagers gathered around the home, whispering in hushed tones as the future child drew to a halt, her eyes looking over the multitudes with suspicion. Her feet, frozen to the spot, rooted themselves to the ground, refused to relinquish her til answers were met. Her heart told her to turn, she could not bear much more sorrow, but the evidence that was there, needed to be sifted through, and found within it, the truth.
Their voices seemed foreign, for she needed not the words to know the answer to the enlarging brood. Two men, both of great respect, carried the bed of a dead person, a gentle sheet of white covered over the corpse.
Coming from the home, Kagome knew who the body was, but to remove it so soon, was unheard of, and fear once more tore her apart. Slinking to their sides, their heads bowing in respect, the young miko trembled, and reached for the covering. Her hands moved the white material, spotting the ashen skin of her friend, its gray appearance much like that of what she remembered.
Directing herself once more, Kagome pulled it further away, and gasped in alarm. The sign of Satan, the one mark that blemished the soul, and disintegrated the soul. The heart, such a nourishing organ, such a blessed part, was missing, torn from its master’s chest. The consequences were severe, if the soul was not able to reincarnate immediately, then forever would that soul disappear into the recesses of a forgotten land.
If any form of consoling was to be done that night, it would have been so in the form of a spectral apparition floating fast through the air. Its form just a blur as it raced to a nearby village, where the people rested soundlessly save one couple, who loved each other dearly. A child was conceived that night, and so ensuring the life of our dear tajiya, and giving hope to the family, who had not been able to conceive until this happy occasion.
But, for the young miko, no such thing could be done, and Buddha, though kind in the saving of her friend, left her to suffer alone. Her heart, shredded and torn, now turned black, a terrible rage never felt before by mankind welling deep within her bosom, and creeping through her veins at alarming rates.
She would hold back no more, she felt no remorse for her coming actions, and only felt the rush of energy for the upcoming kill. Her instincts were strong, and so as many before her felt, and may still to come, she felt the exhilaration of the hunt. Inuyasha was dead, and had been so, ever since the fangs pierced his veins, his soul creeping away and up into the heavens. His body now, was nothing more than a shell, a puppet in which the devil enjoyed thoroughly. And she knew deep within her core, that her hanyou would want nothing more than for her to destroy the one that caused such damage, even if it was the remembrance of his legacy.
With the new found sureness, Kagome, the protector of times, and the guardian of lives, set forth upon her journey, intent on bringing down the one that caused her such pain.
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She knew the scene before it laid itself at her feet, before she took it in with her own eyes. Kagome knew the outcome of the battle before even the victor was decided, before it had occurred within this time line. For history did not change, no matter the different routes in which you took to get their, in the end, the results were the same. The past could not be rewritten, she had tried many times, including this one.
History said that she was the only survivor of the group, though within those fateful books, it declared that they were killed by Naraku, her gaining the upper hand in the end. The books were wrong, they had not died from Naraku’s hands, but Inuyasha’s, none the less, in the end, it all would come to be.
Sighing, and wishing nothing more than to run, Kagome stepped into the clearing, the cool mist from the lake biting at her flesh. Digging deep into her veins, the heated rivers cooling at alarming rates, and the owner of those articles felt the flush arise to her face.
Fingertips touched her trembling lips, and she retracted them, as if stung by an unseen force, and in a sense she was. Like a waterfall coming down upon her, realization came to her, and a sense of something anew replaced the old. A sense of something eerily serene, completely calm, so much so that she knew that an ominous force was pressing down.
Kagome gripped her bow tighter, clutching it so that her knuckles turned white, and her hand cramped under the pressure. She felt out of sorts, her person not really located within her body, but watching from high above. Looking down, wondering, watching, as each piece of the broken puzzle came back slowly and precisely.
Her legs moved with their own accord, not listening to their master, who demanded that they stay still. Her feet, though covered with her modern shoes, felt an all to familiar liquid that seeped in slowly from the sides, and squeezed in between her toes. Her heart stopped, her breath escaping her as she looked down with widened eye.
Blood. Everywhere. Covering everything. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, she wanted to run, but most of all, she wanted to kill. The anger from before had not subsided like other times, and Kagome knew from deep within her core, that the ancestors of time that resided before her, were stirring up instincts that mere mortals did not possess.
All of us, whether vampire, youki, mythical creature, hanyou, or simply a mortal, have the darkness in our soul, no amount of purity can change that. Hero or villain, within them all, waiting for the time to spring, sits an unbeatable darkness, an uncontrollable urge to destroy. And though the holy workers that we all look up to, and who bless the sinners, they too, have the taint of the devil.
And so was the feeling that Kagome was urging, not forbidding like most other’s would, them realizing the nightmarish emotion. For, if she put it back upon its shelf, she knew, that the deed that was needed, would not be done. Her heart, tainted as she was, a normal mortal, she also had the good that all have as well.
Every creature that breaths in oxygen, drinks deep from the earth’s gift, or lives under the rule of the sun, has evil, but has purity in them as well. Some, though good still remains, has a denser fog of dark, and thus are the one’s we look upon with a scorning look, one’s that sit behind barred doors. But, the truth of it all, they are like the other’s, the same amount of pureness, the same amount of taint, but the latter denser than the other.
Kagome knew this, and revolved her life around that simple rule, living by its laws, going with what was set forth. Only two figures did not fit within those categories, the ultimate of each side, fighting heartedly for control, for power over all of living. Satan, the ultimate midnight, the deepest of arrays of the darkest hole. And then there was the lord, his almighty light flowing down upon the hills, sweeping them clean of the germs that plague our existence.
Bending downwards, Kagome inspected the grotesque trail, her mouth grim as she followed its lead, a growing pit of despair welling deep within. She knew the destination, she knew the end as if she had read in a story book, but something compelled, told her she must go on. And so, continue she did, winding deep within the woods, and out once again, skirting along the edges of many villages, and halting before a small shrine.
It was damp, moldy, the musty flare reaching out and entering her nose, abusing her senses as it scorned. She felt the cool breeze, and a sense of being watched filled her, the ever present eyes following her movement as she explored.
The shack, so old and divine, was caving, giving into the world’s demands after an eternity of struggles. Its roof, so full with holes, cast a gloom like none other upon the entrance steps, outlining and illuminating the fallen form.
Her breath hitched, and the miko knew the tears before they fell, knew their path, knew their existence. She had felt their sting more than once, and was quite familiar with their treks, their anguished filled journeys.
Rushing to the elder’s side, a look of loss came upon her, and a new since of fear creeped forward, ensnaring the priestess into a troubled grip. The old woman was breathing shallow, her soul slipping away inch by inch as the hands ticked on, neither bothering or heeding the loss of one of its characters.
Kagome held the miko’s hand gently, wrapping her slender fingers around the senior’s wrinkled hand. Squeezing it reassuringly, she watched with interest as the prone figure stirred, the last ounce of strength surging forward, awaking to the light that drew it onwards.
“Kagome? Oh child, do not weep, you have done so too much,” the gravelly voice shook the youngest, her eyes filling with tears once more.
“I can’t help it, Kaede, I love you so much, you are so dear to me,” the dying one patted the healthy priestess upon her back, soothing her as best she could.
“Our time grows short, our master is calling for me, beckoning me to his side, and I must answer to his will,” Kagome nodded her head in understanding, though her sorrow grew evermore.
“I will miss you,” her broken sobbed was cut short as the two embraced, the younger miko burying her face in the elder woman’s shoulder.
“Kagome, move...now,” her eyebrows raised at the command, confusion etching its way slowly across her features.
Turning suddenly, Kagome saw amber, unyielding pools of gold that existed only with hate. Silver, waves upon waves of it, gliding through the air, the wind whipping it around his stoic face. His red clothing matched the reddened saliva that dripped mechanically from his fangs, and onto his lower jaw.
A knife stuck itself in Kagome’s heart, twisting and turning at the remaining ashes. But she felt it not, she felt nothing for the shell, she felt numb. No anger, no eagerness, and no pain, just numb, completely unfeeling to the body before her. And what she felt, or did not in that sense, scared her to no end, chilled her to the bone.
How had she become such a shallow person? Was her tears simply dried from existence? Kagome didn’t know the answer, nor, at the moment, did she seem to care. In the future, she knew she would weep for hours, but at the moment, lava had infused its way into her system, and refused to cool down until vengeance was taken.
Kagome reached for her arrows, ready to strike, her mind willing her to kill the beast in front of her. A ton of bricks hit her, and the miko cursed, they were too close, she could shoot him when he stood before her. She couldn’t hit him when she could feel the stench of his breath on her skin, feel the warmth of his skin radiating off his body.
His eyes were deep pools of magma, burning and smoldering in the depths of the cave of his soul. His breath were hot embers against her deadening, frozen skin, burning and singeing her quivering body. And his talons were lethal knives, poised and ready, willing to slaughter all who got in his way.
Kagome imagined, briefly, the feel of his razor talons cutting through her flesh, her blood dripping to the ground. Her hair becoming matted and dirtied with earth and body fluid, destroying her beauty. The skin that now felt frigid would be shreds, torn pieces that floated in the breeze.
Taking a step back, the priestess stumbled backwards, she needed more distance, more space between herself and him. But no matter the amount of steps she took, he in turn, did the same, keeping the space tight, their bodies close. Her heart pounded, what could she do, she was helpless, and here before her, stood a murderer.
Wind whipped at her hair, blinding the teenage girl for a few seconds, and causing her distracted mind to jerk to the side. Miroku, his wind tunnel open, looking determined at the monster before her, his stance powerful.
His violet orbs danced with some emotion she had never seen before, and Kagome knew that he wanted her to end it. And so, with a lingering glance, the girl ran a fair distance away, preparing to finish what needed to be done.
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Miroku stood there, his muscles tense as Inuyasha’s body turned towards him, seemingly unaffected by the intense pull of his vortex. The black hole that consumed all, that destroyed everything, and it did not affect the tyrant. And with a sense of awakening, Miroku felt the fear once more grasp his heart as his limbs became unmovable.
Struggling against the hold, the monk looked on with scorn as the creature made his way to the corpse at the steps of the shrine. His disgust grew as the male stalked his way over, his back bent and crooked like no normal spine could do without becoming fractured. The body of their diseased leader was possessed by a demon, he could feel it, its evil knowing no bounds, a server of the Devil.
A bright light of purity fought against the beast, and the demon was thrown backwards, his skull cracking against a rock. Though blood oozed out of the wound, the body never winced in response, and from that moment onwards, Miroku’s worst fears were confirmed.
“Well, monk, it seems you are first,” the monk looked around anxiously, a purifying arrow would not work on the likes of him, it was too weak.
“Stay away from me you demon of Hell,” his voice rose, though it still shook with anger and confidence.
“Now, now, who said I was a demon of Hell,” his voice mocked the human’s intelligence, and his eyes turned red.
“What do you mean?” he was scared, he had a right to be, this was something far more that he perceived it to be.
“I am not of Hell, I am Hell,” his teeth gleamed, and the victim grew more suspicious and wary as the moments went on .
“You are not Hell, you are nothing but a follower,” Miroku inched slowly for his tunnel, perhaps this close, he could suck in the thing.
Rushing forwards, Miroku felt his feet leave the ground, the clawed hand of his ally grasping his collar and holding him before the disfigured body. The fingers tightened, bringing the two face to face, the dead one breathing in the sweet essence of his scent.
Inuyasha moved his head until he was mere centimeters from his skin, the sweet salty tang of the human awakening the saliva in his mouth. His tongue darted out, leaving a trail from the corner of the monk’s mouth, to the corner of his angered eye. Laughter erupted from his chest, bubbling up and out of his mouth, the stench of his breath burning the human’s skin.
Desiring the blood of the holy one, the demon brought his fangs out, following the same trail in which his tongue had previously gone. Blood seeped forth, the gash not deep, but the sweet nectar of life drawing forth, and slipping into the evil being’s mouth. His tongue darted out once more, but this time in order to lick his own lips in joy.
“You are delicious monk, very good to one who has not tasted mortal flesh and blood for many ages. But you are not a virgin, and so are not as sweet as that miko over there would have been. But alas, a barrier has constructed itself, and I cannot pass, so I must settle for you,” his chuckling drove the heavens wild with vengeance, the storm clouds gathering.
Pulling him closer once more, and whispering the fate of his dead wife into the monk’s ear, he threw him away, to land against a tree. His back smashed into the back, scraping and marring his once perfect features. The twigs dropping and irritating the gash that lined his cheek further.
Bending down once more, so that they were level, the possessed body leaned in close once more, thoroughly enjoying his captive’s pain.
“Oh, dear, dear man, if only you had not fucked another, you would have easily fended me off. For virgins are so much stronger, for they are purer, too bad for you, I showed up after your intercourse,” rubbing his hand along Miroku’s chest, he watched as the human grimaced in disgust, his body repulsing at the mere touch of his hand.
“And by the way, to let you in on a little secret, I am not the follower, I am Hell himself,” and for what seemed like eternity, Miroku stared into the depths of Hell, into the face of Satan.
His claws raising, the Devil prepared to slaughter the man before him, remove his heart, and drink upon his blood. But before he could, a burning sensation formed in his raised appendage, a burn, and nothing more.
Turning, he saw as the small female he had previously saw was staring with wide eyes, her surprise evident. Chuckling, he looked down upon the still pulsing arrow, his amusement growing at such a pathetic attempt at his life. No weapon could harm him, it took much more, and by the look of this one, she was nothing special.
He desired the kill, he desired the fresh scent of death in the air, but it so seemed that it was not to be his directly. He glared acidly at the human, her figure small but firm, for the burning sensations on his body had become quite a nuisance.
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Kagome stood in shock, her arrow had no effect upon his body, his skin did not disintegrate, his blood did penetrate the flesh. Fear gushed to her thriving heart, constricting it with the heavy flow, it beating faster and harder to keep up. She felt cold and numb, and utterly helpless as she watched her friend being tortured.
The being kept leaning in, licking his lips, and tasting the sweat soaked skin of the struggling monk. She wanted to help, she really did, but she was a beginning miko, far less powerful that Kikyou, or even Kaede in that matter. She had no concept on how to harness that wrathful power that bubbled directly beneath, in her system of life.
Kagome trembled, her thought process shutting down, and time slowing as she watched the corpse lower his fangs to her friend. She knew he meant to kill, meant to rip the heart from the chest in honor of Satan. She knew this, and she knew she could not allow this to be. If he had to perish, he did not deserve to suffer such a fate as his wife had.
Instincts took hold, for Kagome never realized her actions until she felt the raging animal beneath her, struggling for freedom. She looked down in shock at the arms, her arms, that held tightly around his neck, strangling him. If air flow was cut off from the body, then the evil one within him would have to flee, unable to stay within the weakening body.
Though she held on with a great amount of force, her finger nails cutting deep into the thriving, though deadened skin, she could feel her hold slipping. Her muscles, which had once been so strong, now fell limp, a great amount of effort on her part to merely raise and lower her arms. She felt her breaths come in pants, for the exertion upon her tiring frame caused her much difficulty.
Kagome looked at her palms in wonderment, in scorn. She felt abandoned, betrayed by their lack of certainty that she used to rely on. She watched the possessed body with a hooded gaze, her eyes burning behind her bangs. Miroku was in trouble, but she was unable to move, unable to defend herself, let alone another.
And til the end of time, which shall never cease, Kagome will remember the moments that followed. She will remember that ember burning in her body finally extinguish and leave her cold. She will remember the river of blood freezing in her veins, and she will recall the tears that were her only source of warmth.
Satan walked to the paling monk, his tongue flicking over his lips in anticipation, in ecstasy, in lust. He could feel the ecstacy of the predator preparing to kill his prey, the lust of blood dripping from his chin. He made the vampire, he sired the demons, he was their creator, and so possessed all their personalities.
It wasn’t long, and Miroku met his doom. The wind tunnel proved no aid, his holy upbringing provided no solace. He had watched the claws near, feel them linger on his chest before they tore through his skin. The agonizing pain, his scream echoing through the night, accompanied by his friend’s own. The scene of his heart ripped from his body, and held within the hand of the Devil, still beating. How the fingers squeezed down, the talons slicing it to shreds, and the beast drinking from it, hungrily lapping at the thick liquid. He had seen it all, and experienced it all.
The pain did not last long, he soon fell into the cocoon of warmth, where only happiness awaited. The sweet blackness drawing in as he watched the world slip away, away, until it was no longer tangible. Miroku had felt no remorse, no sudden flash of his life, and little regret. He only felt glee, and grief as the last syllables that hit his ears was the sobs of the miko, and the glass shattering scream as all Hell broke loose. The Hell that He had no control over of, that no one had any power over, besides the keeper.
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Kagome felt the pain, felt that warmth slip away, felt the last strand of hope being cut before her eyes. The spell held no more power, but she did not try to rise, there was no need. The knowledge she hadn’t known before now leaked into her mind, flooding everything that she knew. Darkness, the evil that lurked in her soul that she had desperately kept at bay, she let it all go. And it gushed forward, surging with life, surging with vengeance.
She would not hinder its mission, she would let it control her entire body, she no longer had anything else to worry about. Shippo, Sesshomaru, Kohaku, Jaken, Rin, Kagura, Kikyou, Hakaku, Ginta, Sango, Miroku, Kaede, and her love, Inuyasha. Kagome knew her destiny, she knew it by heart, by memory, though she had never seen those words written in that unbeatable stone. She would defeat him by her own darkness, that strength that came from it would over power the king of night himself. The Heavens would shine down, giving her the light that was needed, she would risk it all, for she had nothing else to give. She would fight the night with the night, dark with dark, evil with evil, and cruelty with cruelty, and no guilt for his demise would be felt.
The young miko, the one with little experience, stood upon her stable legs, an aura that even He was afraid of. Those soulless eyes of virtue locked with his red ones, and he saw his death play before his body. He knew the end, he knew that outcome before the play began, and so he knew the consequence of his deeds.
The weapons that lay at her feet were not reached for, they were useless, they had tried that course. But, the future priestess knew something much more useful, something much more ancient, as old as the dawning of time. And so, without feeling, her lips parted, and her tongue let loose the words of her chant that would condemn Him back into the realm in which he was prisoned in.
“Dear lord, I pray that ye bless us with your gentle touch, with your loving embrace. Come down from your home, and wrap this sinner in your embrace, show him the tenderness of your presence. Teach him of your will, let him learn the ways of your word, and the workings of your rule. I pray to thee, and look upon you for guidance, for the clearing of the road for this creature,” she watched with victory orbs as he covered his ears in agony, in a hiss of hate and pain. The light engulfed him, purifying as much as it could while the darkness in her set out.
“I have him on my side, and so it has sealed your fate. You have done much damage, but nothing that shall not pass, the time stream will continue. What was supposed to be, will occur, and you will not hinder its course. I sentence you too your domain, to forever roam amongst your creations, to be sentenced to their wrath. You are weak, and cowardly as you beg for your forgiveness, and the lord above will grant you it. For no matter what happens, he forgives, gives the sinner another chance, whether or not you are of human blood. He will let you off, expecting you to repent, though knowing you shall not. He will, but I will not. I am not one of a higher form, I am human, simple, and so hold terrible grudges. You slaughtered my friends in the form of Naraku, and then as Inuyasha. The lord is not here, only his power, and so you have only me to look at. And my vengeance will not be quenched. Amen,” her hand rose, high above her head, the eyes of chocolate lighting up.
He stood there, his face scrunched in horror as the light around him pulsed with life. He felt the warmth build beneath his feet, watched as the cross and jewel around Her neck glow and pulse with life. The flames of the underworld consumed him, entangling their master in a grip so strong that he could not escape. And so, the battle ended, a scream of ache, purity and evil coming together to take out the one that is not matched, and two very haunted eyes.
She had seen it all. She had seen the beginning, the middle, and then the end of everything she had come to love. And the girl that once was had died, perished in battle, and so arose from the ashes, like the phoenix, a new being. A woman of virtue, of knowledge, of light, and of dark. The protector of times, the protector of the world.
Kagome had it to bear alone, she had not met another that could help her lighten the load that had unkindly placed itself upon her shoulders. She knew the weight of the world, for she had bore it well, and bear it she must still. And as the well came into view, with Kirara perched upon her shoulder, Kagome welcomed the darkness, embraced the cold numbing feeling as it engulfed her for a final time. No tears fell, nothing was felt, she was devoid of it all. She had nothing left to give, not even herself.
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TO BE CONTINUED...
A/N: Its almost over peeps, and guess what, now we get to learn more, and feel all happy when it finally ends. Don’t worry, Kagome gets her happy ending, in a very unexpected way. YAY! R&R. Constructive Criticism welcomed, Flaming for bidden.
P.S.-Sorry about the wait!
CowgirlUSA
FF.net: Special thanks to: Damian 2.0, INUYASHAS gIRL!, Neisha, Sin Ti, Silverbloodrain, Squeaky, and crazie-foe-u. Thank you for all your compliments, and your opinions, it means a lot. Remember, its 2/3 done, so one more chapter to go!
MM.org: To you guys, ::blush:: you guys make me feel so special. You are so nice to say all those things, and for you who said it was amazing, only in a longer version, and said it was the most bone-chilling, I take my hat off, thank you.
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the Inuyasha characters, though how I wish I did. But of any of you steal my masterpiece, aka. plot to this story, I will personally order Inuyasha to use his Wind Scar on you. Thank you!
Category: Anime: Inuyasha
Genre: Adventure/Action/Angst/Drama/Horror/Romance
Rating: R (M) just to be safe, mainly for gore and descriptive scenes.
Summary: His eyes were deep pools of magma, burning and smoldering in the depths of the cave. His breath was hot embers against her deadening skin, burning and singeing her quivering body. And his talons were lethal knives, poised and ready, willing to slaughter all who got in his way.
Monster
By: CowgirlUSA
Kagome awoke with a jerk, her head pounding as each fragment of her heart shredded her tearing mind further. Her eyes were pained and soulless, lost and alone in an unforgiving world of malice. Her body felt heavy, her muscles drained from all strength she had at one time possessed.By: CowgirlUSA
Gripping her fingers into a fist, a short cry brought her drowsy figure back to the harshness of her reality. Rubbing her face, and clearing her hazy eyes, Kagome walked to the upset child, touching her head in a tender touch. Her eyes shone with hurt as the baby’s lungs were bruised, and as the tiny fists lashed out forcefully at the touch of the other.
Frowning, worry swept through her, tangling itself through her system as spider-webs of hurt formed around her constricting heart. Taking the child into her arms, something amiss was brought to Kagome’s immediate attention, and the blood flowing through her, grew oh, so very cold.
Fear shot through her, a pouring waterfall of awakening washing away the easiness of earlier and light forming on the new encounter. No one, beside the babe and she were within the home, all other’s gone far from sight. Nerves shot through her, and the miko ran into the next room, an eery silence falling within the building.
No one was in Sango’s resting room, her eyes falling on empty hollows that filled themselves with darkening shadows. Torments of grief took hold, and she wished beyond hope that all was well, and the end had not come. Her heart constricted, fear gripping it until it would not let go and leave her to rest.
Gazing down upon the pale face of the dead, she felt pin pricks form in the back of her eyes, and she slowly slipped away, hiding the pain behind a barricade that leaked so much. Kagome wanted nothing more than to forget, to let loose her anguish and let the abilities that were bred into her take hold.
Shaking her convulsing head, she carried Sakura further away from the home, searching for any sign of life, any sign of her loved ones. She couldn’t comprehend, fathom, that the possibility of what could be, of their possible outcome.
A twig. Such a fragile thing when pushed down upon with great force, for example, someone’s weight. Adrenaline came forth, coloring her features as she assessed her situation, the area was so quiet, so very silent. The forest’s hushed atmosphere set her on guard, her arm out and protecting the babe to her chest, the child who had grown so very still.
Breathing of another drew her ears to the direction, her eyes discerning each piece of foliage, and each clump of dirt. The air so pure, held an ominous rumor within its winds, carrying it along and whispering it tauntingly to the above trees. Their leaves danced with life, laughing and mocking her with scorn, the gnarled limbs poking out at her, trapping her from view of the blue heavens.
Gathering her courage, and willing each foot to move onwards, sirens of warning flashed before her doe eyes. Sucking in a breath for good measure, the young miko crouched low to the ground, crawling on threes, and cradling the baby with the other. How stupid, she thought, to bring a child out here, in the wilderness no less, with a deranged killer. Stupid. Counting the seconds, time seemed to stop as she moved her hand which she leant upon, and moved it towards the bushes. Oh how she wished it would cease, to stop the days from merging, to just forever be stuck in the one moment in which you had dreamed for, for so many years.
The priestess’ breath hitched, and fear crept its way up her spine as a prone figure lay upon the ground, his blood running fluently from his open wounds. The rich crimson color staining the earth, dying the florescent greens of the forest’s foliage. His haunted gasps of pain covered the acres, calling to them for support.
Her muffled cry of alarm directed his heated gaze towards her, his eyes taking in her form with precise movements. His muscles seemed to relax as he drifted back into the world in which pain did not exist, where his eyes became glazed and his muscles limp.
Grabbing medical herbs she had spied by his body, Kagome held them tight against his bare chest and arms, chanting words of old. Miko energy poured forth, closing the openings with its soft touch, its caressing motions tenderly massaging the ache from the bone. Her tears completed the action, removing the dark black that aligned several angles of his toned body.
Sakura squirmed for release, thrashing and hitting as she demanded her freedom, to lay freely upon the ground beside the male. Doing as the child wished, Kagome went on with her business, sneaking glances at the two from the corner of her eye, and wondering what had befallen the man? What did it mean to her, and the now pulsing medallion that hung, haunted, around her neck?
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Se veral hours lapsed, and Kagome felt her body weakening, giving into the demands of fatigue. Her eyes closed momentarily, resting her head against a large tree that rooted itself to the spot, and stood proudly amongst the others. She had no weapons, and her instincts told her that was not wise, but her mind told her she could not leave.
Turning once more, a look of sorrow marred her pretty features, etching themselves into her aging eyes. The two, identical in many ways, peacefully rested, their breaths even and deep as they dreamed dreams so sweet. Her hand flew to her chest involuntarily, scrunching the cloth that resided there.
The blaze illuminated her skin, its sickly coloration shining through the night, brightening the ink that fell over the lands. The miko’s ghostly eyes were hollowed with devastation, the endless tunnels leading far back to a place many did not dare to tread alone. Her hands shook, her body knowing fully that unlike others, she would walk that path alone, a solitary existence forevermore, for she could not risk the time dimensions anymore than she had already.
Fatigue was great, but the overbearing sense of survival surged deep within her veins, reviving her every time her eyes dared to shut. A single twig snap set Kagome on high alert, her ears perking as an owl flew overhead, calling out in its lonesome journey, searching for a substance to keep it living. The howls of the mourning wolves signaled a filling dread within her, was Kouga and Ayame alright? How was the pup or pups that were due while they battled? Was that chorus a grief stricken pact at the fall of a comrade? She hoped not.
Kagome rubbed the palm of her hand, mesmerized by each fine line that stretched itself along her flawless skin. Her fingernail traced the lines, tickling her hand as she went on, stopping suddenly when she came upon the lifeline, and how it seemed to continue on and on, never ending. The life of time, on and on, never ending, never slowing.
She had learned well from her past that things that were done, could not be taken back, could not be retracted. For, no matter what the deed, or how deep the apology, time remembered all, storing it within its memories forever, never to let it go again.
Kagome wanted so desperately for the monk to wake, for the safety of others to come once more and encircle her in its gentle embrace. She felt helpless, alone and feeble, she had no weapon, and there for completely helpless against any attack that came her way.
Unconsciously, her hand went for the pendant, grasping the cold metal within her hold, feeling the edges of the cross with great certainty. Her visage becoming blurred with tears as she remembered what she wished to escape. Her past that would not let her be, the returning nightmare that surrounded her from all sides, consuming her whole.
Rustling nearby drew Kagome away from her troublesome thoughts, saving her from the malice that lurked in the corners of her unguarded mind. Peacefully pulling her away from the danger that wanted nothing more than to rip her heart out, tear it to shreds, and leave her for dead.
Twisting, her eyes met violet, clear, unyielding, violet, that shone with life and clarity. Kagome threw her arms around his neck, pulling him close and sobbing with joy as each intake of air brought him further back. His steady heartbeat furthering her confidence in his continuing life, his strength regaining second by dwindling second.
“Shush, Kagome, I am alright,” the monk clung to her as well, reliving the horrors that had so previously passed.
“You were so still, hardly breathing, I thought you were going to die like Sango,” his breath hitched, and reality raced back to him, breaking his soul slowly.
“I haven’t, and shan’t if I can help it, but do not heed my troubles now, for Kaede will be in need of assistance,” he pulled away from her, clutching her shoulders for his and her comfort.
“She’s probably already gone, Miroku,” he understood her reasoning, for deep down she seemed to have a sense of where the elder one had gone.
“No, she’s not. Weak, yes, very much so, but alive none the less,” nodding her head, words were traded, and the two parted ways, the monk staying behind, hidden well within the coverage, and the miko racing to the village, her destination, her weapons.
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Villagers gathered around the home, whispering in hushed tones as the future child drew to a halt, her eyes looking over the multitudes with suspicion. Her feet, frozen to the spot, rooted themselves to the ground, refused to relinquish her til answers were met. Her heart told her to turn, she could not bear much more sorrow, but the evidence that was there, needed to be sifted through, and found within it, the truth.
Their voices seemed foreign, for she needed not the words to know the answer to the enlarging brood. Two men, both of great respect, carried the bed of a dead person, a gentle sheet of white covered over the corpse.
Coming from the home, Kagome knew who the body was, but to remove it so soon, was unheard of, and fear once more tore her apart. Slinking to their sides, their heads bowing in respect, the young miko trembled, and reached for the covering. Her hands moved the white material, spotting the ashen skin of her friend, its gray appearance much like that of what she remembered.
Directing herself once more, Kagome pulled it further away, and gasped in alarm. The sign of Satan, the one mark that blemished the soul, and disintegrated the soul. The heart, such a nourishing organ, such a blessed part, was missing, torn from its master’s chest. The consequences were severe, if the soul was not able to reincarnate immediately, then forever would that soul disappear into the recesses of a forgotten land.
If any form of consoling was to be done that night, it would have been so in the form of a spectral apparition floating fast through the air. Its form just a blur as it raced to a nearby village, where the people rested soundlessly save one couple, who loved each other dearly. A child was conceived that night, and so ensuring the life of our dear tajiya, and giving hope to the family, who had not been able to conceive until this happy occasion.
But, for the young miko, no such thing could be done, and Buddha, though kind in the saving of her friend, left her to suffer alone. Her heart, shredded and torn, now turned black, a terrible rage never felt before by mankind welling deep within her bosom, and creeping through her veins at alarming rates.
She would hold back no more, she felt no remorse for her coming actions, and only felt the rush of energy for the upcoming kill. Her instincts were strong, and so as many before her felt, and may still to come, she felt the exhilaration of the hunt. Inuyasha was dead, and had been so, ever since the fangs pierced his veins, his soul creeping away and up into the heavens. His body now, was nothing more than a shell, a puppet in which the devil enjoyed thoroughly. And she knew deep within her core, that her hanyou would want nothing more than for her to destroy the one that caused such damage, even if it was the remembrance of his legacy.
With the new found sureness, Kagome, the protector of times, and the guardian of lives, set forth upon her journey, intent on bringing down the one that caused her such pain.
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She knew the scene before it laid itself at her feet, before she took it in with her own eyes. Kagome knew the outcome of the battle before even the victor was decided, before it had occurred within this time line. For history did not change, no matter the different routes in which you took to get their, in the end, the results were the same. The past could not be rewritten, she had tried many times, including this one.
History said that she was the only survivor of the group, though within those fateful books, it declared that they were killed by Naraku, her gaining the upper hand in the end. The books were wrong, they had not died from Naraku’s hands, but Inuyasha’s, none the less, in the end, it all would come to be.
Sighing, and wishing nothing more than to run, Kagome stepped into the clearing, the cool mist from the lake biting at her flesh. Digging deep into her veins, the heated rivers cooling at alarming rates, and the owner of those articles felt the flush arise to her face.
Fingertips touched her trembling lips, and she retracted them, as if stung by an unseen force, and in a sense she was. Like a waterfall coming down upon her, realization came to her, and a sense of something anew replaced the old. A sense of something eerily serene, completely calm, so much so that she knew that an ominous force was pressing down.
Kagome gripped her bow tighter, clutching it so that her knuckles turned white, and her hand cramped under the pressure. She felt out of sorts, her person not really located within her body, but watching from high above. Looking down, wondering, watching, as each piece of the broken puzzle came back slowly and precisely.
Her legs moved with their own accord, not listening to their master, who demanded that they stay still. Her feet, though covered with her modern shoes, felt an all to familiar liquid that seeped in slowly from the sides, and squeezed in between her toes. Her heart stopped, her breath escaping her as she looked down with widened eye.
Blood. Everywhere. Covering everything. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, she wanted to run, but most of all, she wanted to kill. The anger from before had not subsided like other times, and Kagome knew from deep within her core, that the ancestors of time that resided before her, were stirring up instincts that mere mortals did not possess.
All of us, whether vampire, youki, mythical creature, hanyou, or simply a mortal, have the darkness in our soul, no amount of purity can change that. Hero or villain, within them all, waiting for the time to spring, sits an unbeatable darkness, an uncontrollable urge to destroy. And though the holy workers that we all look up to, and who bless the sinners, they too, have the taint of the devil.
And so was the feeling that Kagome was urging, not forbidding like most other’s would, them realizing the nightmarish emotion. For, if she put it back upon its shelf, she knew, that the deed that was needed, would not be done. Her heart, tainted as she was, a normal mortal, she also had the good that all have as well.
Every creature that breaths in oxygen, drinks deep from the earth’s gift, or lives under the rule of the sun, has evil, but has purity in them as well. Some, though good still remains, has a denser fog of dark, and thus are the one’s we look upon with a scorning look, one’s that sit behind barred doors. But, the truth of it all, they are like the other’s, the same amount of pureness, the same amount of taint, but the latter denser than the other.
Kagome knew this, and revolved her life around that simple rule, living by its laws, going with what was set forth. Only two figures did not fit within those categories, the ultimate of each side, fighting heartedly for control, for power over all of living. Satan, the ultimate midnight, the deepest of arrays of the darkest hole. And then there was the lord, his almighty light flowing down upon the hills, sweeping them clean of the germs that plague our existence.
Bending downwards, Kagome inspected the grotesque trail, her mouth grim as she followed its lead, a growing pit of despair welling deep within. She knew the destination, she knew the end as if she had read in a story book, but something compelled, told her she must go on. And so, continue she did, winding deep within the woods, and out once again, skirting along the edges of many villages, and halting before a small shrine.
It was damp, moldy, the musty flare reaching out and entering her nose, abusing her senses as it scorned. She felt the cool breeze, and a sense of being watched filled her, the ever present eyes following her movement as she explored.
The shack, so old and divine, was caving, giving into the world’s demands after an eternity of struggles. Its roof, so full with holes, cast a gloom like none other upon the entrance steps, outlining and illuminating the fallen form.
Her breath hitched, and the miko knew the tears before they fell, knew their path, knew their existence. She had felt their sting more than once, and was quite familiar with their treks, their anguished filled journeys.
Rushing to the elder’s side, a look of loss came upon her, and a new since of fear creeped forward, ensnaring the priestess into a troubled grip. The old woman was breathing shallow, her soul slipping away inch by inch as the hands ticked on, neither bothering or heeding the loss of one of its characters.
Kagome held the miko’s hand gently, wrapping her slender fingers around the senior’s wrinkled hand. Squeezing it reassuringly, she watched with interest as the prone figure stirred, the last ounce of strength surging forward, awaking to the light that drew it onwards.
“Kagome? Oh child, do not weep, you have done so too much,” the gravelly voice shook the youngest, her eyes filling with tears once more.
“I can’t help it, Kaede, I love you so much, you are so dear to me,” the dying one patted the healthy priestess upon her back, soothing her as best she could.
“Our time grows short, our master is calling for me, beckoning me to his side, and I must answer to his will,” Kagome nodded her head in understanding, though her sorrow grew evermore.
“I will miss you,” her broken sobbed was cut short as the two embraced, the younger miko burying her face in the elder woman’s shoulder.
“Kagome, move...now,” her eyebrows raised at the command, confusion etching its way slowly across her features.
Turning suddenly, Kagome saw amber, unyielding pools of gold that existed only with hate. Silver, waves upon waves of it, gliding through the air, the wind whipping it around his stoic face. His red clothing matched the reddened saliva that dripped mechanically from his fangs, and onto his lower jaw.
A knife stuck itself in Kagome’s heart, twisting and turning at the remaining ashes. But she felt it not, she felt nothing for the shell, she felt numb. No anger, no eagerness, and no pain, just numb, completely unfeeling to the body before her. And what she felt, or did not in that sense, scared her to no end, chilled her to the bone.
How had she become such a shallow person? Was her tears simply dried from existence? Kagome didn’t know the answer, nor, at the moment, did she seem to care. In the future, she knew she would weep for hours, but at the moment, lava had infused its way into her system, and refused to cool down until vengeance was taken.
Kagome reached for her arrows, ready to strike, her mind willing her to kill the beast in front of her. A ton of bricks hit her, and the miko cursed, they were too close, she could shoot him when he stood before her. She couldn’t hit him when she could feel the stench of his breath on her skin, feel the warmth of his skin radiating off his body.
His eyes were deep pools of magma, burning and smoldering in the depths of the cave of his soul. His breath were hot embers against her deadening, frozen skin, burning and singeing her quivering body. And his talons were lethal knives, poised and ready, willing to slaughter all who got in his way.
Kagome imagined, briefly, the feel of his razor talons cutting through her flesh, her blood dripping to the ground. Her hair becoming matted and dirtied with earth and body fluid, destroying her beauty. The skin that now felt frigid would be shreds, torn pieces that floated in the breeze.
Taking a step back, the priestess stumbled backwards, she needed more distance, more space between herself and him. But no matter the amount of steps she took, he in turn, did the same, keeping the space tight, their bodies close. Her heart pounded, what could she do, she was helpless, and here before her, stood a murderer.
Wind whipped at her hair, blinding the teenage girl for a few seconds, and causing her distracted mind to jerk to the side. Miroku, his wind tunnel open, looking determined at the monster before her, his stance powerful.
His violet orbs danced with some emotion she had never seen before, and Kagome knew that he wanted her to end it. And so, with a lingering glance, the girl ran a fair distance away, preparing to finish what needed to be done.
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Miroku stood there, his muscles tense as Inuyasha’s body turned towards him, seemingly unaffected by the intense pull of his vortex. The black hole that consumed all, that destroyed everything, and it did not affect the tyrant. And with a sense of awakening, Miroku felt the fear once more grasp his heart as his limbs became unmovable.
Struggling against the hold, the monk looked on with scorn as the creature made his way to the corpse at the steps of the shrine. His disgust grew as the male stalked his way over, his back bent and crooked like no normal spine could do without becoming fractured. The body of their diseased leader was possessed by a demon, he could feel it, its evil knowing no bounds, a server of the Devil.
A bright light of purity fought against the beast, and the demon was thrown backwards, his skull cracking against a rock. Though blood oozed out of the wound, the body never winced in response, and from that moment onwards, Miroku’s worst fears were confirmed.
“Well, monk, it seems you are first,” the monk looked around anxiously, a purifying arrow would not work on the likes of him, it was too weak.
“Stay away from me you demon of Hell,” his voice rose, though it still shook with anger and confidence.
“Now, now, who said I was a demon of Hell,” his voice mocked the human’s intelligence, and his eyes turned red.
“What do you mean?” he was scared, he had a right to be, this was something far more that he perceived it to be.
“I am not of Hell, I am Hell,” his teeth gleamed, and the victim grew more suspicious and wary as the moments went on .
“You are not Hell, you are nothing but a follower,” Miroku inched slowly for his tunnel, perhaps this close, he could suck in the thing.
Rushing forwards, Miroku felt his feet leave the ground, the clawed hand of his ally grasping his collar and holding him before the disfigured body. The fingers tightened, bringing the two face to face, the dead one breathing in the sweet essence of his scent.
Inuyasha moved his head until he was mere centimeters from his skin, the sweet salty tang of the human awakening the saliva in his mouth. His tongue darted out, leaving a trail from the corner of the monk’s mouth, to the corner of his angered eye. Laughter erupted from his chest, bubbling up and out of his mouth, the stench of his breath burning the human’s skin.
Desiring the blood of the holy one, the demon brought his fangs out, following the same trail in which his tongue had previously gone. Blood seeped forth, the gash not deep, but the sweet nectar of life drawing forth, and slipping into the evil being’s mouth. His tongue darted out once more, but this time in order to lick his own lips in joy.
“You are delicious monk, very good to one who has not tasted mortal flesh and blood for many ages. But you are not a virgin, and so are not as sweet as that miko over there would have been. But alas, a barrier has constructed itself, and I cannot pass, so I must settle for you,” his chuckling drove the heavens wild with vengeance, the storm clouds gathering.
Pulling him closer once more, and whispering the fate of his dead wife into the monk’s ear, he threw him away, to land against a tree. His back smashed into the back, scraping and marring his once perfect features. The twigs dropping and irritating the gash that lined his cheek further.
Bending down once more, so that they were level, the possessed body leaned in close once more, thoroughly enjoying his captive’s pain.
“Oh, dear, dear man, if only you had not fucked another, you would have easily fended me off. For virgins are so much stronger, for they are purer, too bad for you, I showed up after your intercourse,” rubbing his hand along Miroku’s chest, he watched as the human grimaced in disgust, his body repulsing at the mere touch of his hand.
“And by the way, to let you in on a little secret, I am not the follower, I am Hell himself,” and for what seemed like eternity, Miroku stared into the depths of Hell, into the face of Satan.
His claws raising, the Devil prepared to slaughter the man before him, remove his heart, and drink upon his blood. But before he could, a burning sensation formed in his raised appendage, a burn, and nothing more.
Turning, he saw as the small female he had previously saw was staring with wide eyes, her surprise evident. Chuckling, he looked down upon the still pulsing arrow, his amusement growing at such a pathetic attempt at his life. No weapon could harm him, it took much more, and by the look of this one, she was nothing special.
He desired the kill, he desired the fresh scent of death in the air, but it so seemed that it was not to be his directly. He glared acidly at the human, her figure small but firm, for the burning sensations on his body had become quite a nuisance.
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Kagome stood in shock, her arrow had no effect upon his body, his skin did not disintegrate, his blood did penetrate the flesh. Fear gushed to her thriving heart, constricting it with the heavy flow, it beating faster and harder to keep up. She felt cold and numb, and utterly helpless as she watched her friend being tortured.
The being kept leaning in, licking his lips, and tasting the sweat soaked skin of the struggling monk. She wanted to help, she really did, but she was a beginning miko, far less powerful that Kikyou, or even Kaede in that matter. She had no concept on how to harness that wrathful power that bubbled directly beneath, in her system of life.
Kagome trembled, her thought process shutting down, and time slowing as she watched the corpse lower his fangs to her friend. She knew he meant to kill, meant to rip the heart from the chest in honor of Satan. She knew this, and she knew she could not allow this to be. If he had to perish, he did not deserve to suffer such a fate as his wife had.
Instincts took hold, for Kagome never realized her actions until she felt the raging animal beneath her, struggling for freedom. She looked down in shock at the arms, her arms, that held tightly around his neck, strangling him. If air flow was cut off from the body, then the evil one within him would have to flee, unable to stay within the weakening body.
Though she held on with a great amount of force, her finger nails cutting deep into the thriving, though deadened skin, she could feel her hold slipping. Her muscles, which had once been so strong, now fell limp, a great amount of effort on her part to merely raise and lower her arms. She felt her breaths come in pants, for the exertion upon her tiring frame caused her much difficulty.
Kagome looked at her palms in wonderment, in scorn. She felt abandoned, betrayed by their lack of certainty that she used to rely on. She watched the possessed body with a hooded gaze, her eyes burning behind her bangs. Miroku was in trouble, but she was unable to move, unable to defend herself, let alone another.
And til the end of time, which shall never cease, Kagome will remember the moments that followed. She will remember that ember burning in her body finally extinguish and leave her cold. She will remember the river of blood freezing in her veins, and she will recall the tears that were her only source of warmth.
Satan walked to the paling monk, his tongue flicking over his lips in anticipation, in ecstasy, in lust. He could feel the ecstacy of the predator preparing to kill his prey, the lust of blood dripping from his chin. He made the vampire, he sired the demons, he was their creator, and so possessed all their personalities.
It wasn’t long, and Miroku met his doom. The wind tunnel proved no aid, his holy upbringing provided no solace. He had watched the claws near, feel them linger on his chest before they tore through his skin. The agonizing pain, his scream echoing through the night, accompanied by his friend’s own. The scene of his heart ripped from his body, and held within the hand of the Devil, still beating. How the fingers squeezed down, the talons slicing it to shreds, and the beast drinking from it, hungrily lapping at the thick liquid. He had seen it all, and experienced it all.
The pain did not last long, he soon fell into the cocoon of warmth, where only happiness awaited. The sweet blackness drawing in as he watched the world slip away, away, until it was no longer tangible. Miroku had felt no remorse, no sudden flash of his life, and little regret. He only felt glee, and grief as the last syllables that hit his ears was the sobs of the miko, and the glass shattering scream as all Hell broke loose. The Hell that He had no control over of, that no one had any power over, besides the keeper.
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Kagome felt the pain, felt that warmth slip away, felt the last strand of hope being cut before her eyes. The spell held no more power, but she did not try to rise, there was no need. The knowledge she hadn’t known before now leaked into her mind, flooding everything that she knew. Darkness, the evil that lurked in her soul that she had desperately kept at bay, she let it all go. And it gushed forward, surging with life, surging with vengeance.
She would not hinder its mission, she would let it control her entire body, she no longer had anything else to worry about. Shippo, Sesshomaru, Kohaku, Jaken, Rin, Kagura, Kikyou, Hakaku, Ginta, Sango, Miroku, Kaede, and her love, Inuyasha. Kagome knew her destiny, she knew it by heart, by memory, though she had never seen those words written in that unbeatable stone. She would defeat him by her own darkness, that strength that came from it would over power the king of night himself. The Heavens would shine down, giving her the light that was needed, she would risk it all, for she had nothing else to give. She would fight the night with the night, dark with dark, evil with evil, and cruelty with cruelty, and no guilt for his demise would be felt.
The young miko, the one with little experience, stood upon her stable legs, an aura that even He was afraid of. Those soulless eyes of virtue locked with his red ones, and he saw his death play before his body. He knew the end, he knew that outcome before the play began, and so he knew the consequence of his deeds.
The weapons that lay at her feet were not reached for, they were useless, they had tried that course. But, the future priestess knew something much more useful, something much more ancient, as old as the dawning of time. And so, without feeling, her lips parted, and her tongue let loose the words of her chant that would condemn Him back into the realm in which he was prisoned in.
“Dear lord, I pray that ye bless us with your gentle touch, with your loving embrace. Come down from your home, and wrap this sinner in your embrace, show him the tenderness of your presence. Teach him of your will, let him learn the ways of your word, and the workings of your rule. I pray to thee, and look upon you for guidance, for the clearing of the road for this creature,” she watched with victory orbs as he covered his ears in agony, in a hiss of hate and pain. The light engulfed him, purifying as much as it could while the darkness in her set out.
“I have him on my side, and so it has sealed your fate. You have done much damage, but nothing that shall not pass, the time stream will continue. What was supposed to be, will occur, and you will not hinder its course. I sentence you too your domain, to forever roam amongst your creations, to be sentenced to their wrath. You are weak, and cowardly as you beg for your forgiveness, and the lord above will grant you it. For no matter what happens, he forgives, gives the sinner another chance, whether or not you are of human blood. He will let you off, expecting you to repent, though knowing you shall not. He will, but I will not. I am not one of a higher form, I am human, simple, and so hold terrible grudges. You slaughtered my friends in the form of Naraku, and then as Inuyasha. The lord is not here, only his power, and so you have only me to look at. And my vengeance will not be quenched. Amen,” her hand rose, high above her head, the eyes of chocolate lighting up.
He stood there, his face scrunched in horror as the light around him pulsed with life. He felt the warmth build beneath his feet, watched as the cross and jewel around Her neck glow and pulse with life. The flames of the underworld consumed him, entangling their master in a grip so strong that he could not escape. And so, the battle ended, a scream of ache, purity and evil coming together to take out the one that is not matched, and two very haunted eyes.
She had seen it all. She had seen the beginning, the middle, and then the end of everything she had come to love. And the girl that once was had died, perished in battle, and so arose from the ashes, like the phoenix, a new being. A woman of virtue, of knowledge, of light, and of dark. The protector of times, the protector of the world.
Kagome had it to bear alone, she had not met another that could help her lighten the load that had unkindly placed itself upon her shoulders. She knew the weight of the world, for she had bore it well, and bear it she must still. And as the well came into view, with Kirara perched upon her shoulder, Kagome welcomed the darkness, embraced the cold numbing feeling as it engulfed her for a final time. No tears fell, nothing was felt, she was devoid of it all. She had nothing left to give, not even herself.
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TO BE CONTINUED...
A/N: Its almost over peeps, and guess what, now we get to learn more, and feel all happy when it finally ends. Don’t worry, Kagome gets her happy ending, in a very unexpected way. YAY! R&R. Constructive Criticism welcomed, Flaming for bidden.
P.S.-Sorry about the wait!
CowgirlUSA