InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Winter Moon ❯ Lost to the Night ( Chapter 2 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Clockwork_knight 
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 01.09.2004 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.3K | Visits: 854 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 01.09.2004 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.3K | Visits: 854 | Status: Work In Progress
Disclaimer- I own nothing, no suing for you
E-mail- wind_voyager@yahoo.com
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Lost to the Night
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The winter moon stayed heavy and full in the dark sky, slowly starting it’s decent towards the horizon and to the other side of the world. The cool night air was laden with tiny silver and white stars as the thin curling mass of clouds slowly moved over the sky, ready to shed the soft cargo of tiny snowflakes.
Inuyasha groaned softly, pulling his arms back and under him, his head aching as badly as his shoulders and back, his vision blurring as he forced himself up. The last thing he could remember really was the walls of the shack and the tiny white flakes of snow falling through the door…the cold…the thick forest he had gotten lost in...Kikyo…the arrow shaft that had been broken off in his shoulder, the very same one that had brought his world crashing down into a sea of darkness.
He shivered under the unpleasant thought, shoving it from his mind, wondering how he had gotten free of the thick magic iron shackles that had bound him.
He didn’t know…it was all hazy...why Miroku was lying still at his feet.
He moved forward swaying slightly and he all but fell to his knees as they gave out.
“Miroku?”
Blood, the sharp stink of blood hit him like a sledgehammer, and it was coming off the monk in sickening waves, and off his own hand and clothing.
“Miroku!”
He all but crawled to him, rolling the young man onto his back. The purple and black robes were soaked with blood; far too much of the stuff of life clung to the martial. He searched the unconscious monk for wounds; trembling hands found the right arm was haphazardly bound with torn bits of cloth as if in effort to stem a blood flow. He felt sick, had he…no he couldn’t have.
“Miroku?” he gently shook the man, his eyes were closed and his skin was pale even under the moon’s light. He felt for a pulse, just barely finding it. His ears could hear how labored the monks breathing was.
He swallowed and carefully undid the makeshift bindings, full well knowing what lay underneath. His stomach leaped and turned into a knot. He started to wish he hadn’t done that, four bone deep gouges broke the pale flesh.
He knew what had done it, the only thing that could cause such deep clean cuts.
Claws, demons claws were sharp enough to do such terrible harm.
There was blood clinging to him that didn’t come from any of his own minor injuries; he stunk of Miroku’s blood.
But…how? Had he some how passed out, the monk freeing him from the shackles…it was unthinkable yet he was splattered with blood that was not his.
He couldn’t have…couldn’t..
He shook his head in denial.
But Miroku bore the evidence that said otherwise, his own unleashed rage.
Shaking with fear, he scooped the limp mass up, his arms barely able to hold him as he forced himself up, he looked around in desperation, and the whole town was abandoned. He didn’t know were he was or were the others were.
Miroku must have come looking for him and bore the assault.
He had to find help, find a healer, even if it meant facing the rage of a village or his companions; he had to find anyone with a medical knowledge.
He bit his lip in worry, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of habitation, any spark of a fire or smoke, any dam thing.
He needed help and he was willing to do anything to get it.
He almost didn’t see it in his desperation, a thin wisp of smoke in the far distance; the snow was coming heavier now.
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His strength was failing fast, the weight of Miroku felt as if it had been increased as he ran on. Blood clung to his hair and clothing, the smell lodged in his mind and lungs as he gathered the last of his waning strength and shattered nerves and put on a spurt of energy as he cleared a line of trees and burst into a clearing with several small huts gathered around it.
He cast a look around, feeling his legs starting to go, his breath coming in painful gasps as he blinked the tears away from his eyes. A few people had stepped outside their houses, the children were quickly and quietly ushered back inside by their mothers as the men picked up anything they could uses a weapon but made no move for him.
They stood staring at him with fear and distrust in their eyes. Inuyasha saw none of it; he made his way towards the healer’s house, set apart from the others. The small sign hanging out side declared it was a healer’s home as it swung on rusted hinges. He all but burst through the door.
He nearly collapsed on the floor right there and then, his muscles quivering. Blood was running over his arms and hands, the raspy breathing of the man in his arms matched his own.
The healer was a crinkled old woman who only watched the intruder that had barged into her home so late at night with neutral eyes, taking in the blood soaked half demon and his cargo.
Inuyasha had to take several deep breaths and tired his best to steady himself and his vision started to darken, he gathered everything he could in order just to speak.
“ Please….help him…”
The sharp eyes met his amber ones. “ What’s it to you, half breed?” she asked, her voice as strong as a cold wind tearing through the forest.
“ Everything….what…ever...you want...of me…I’ll do. Just help him.” Even if that anything included getting the hell beaten out of him, he was willing t bear it
His legs quivered more, threatening to go at any moment; his ears caught the sound of heavy footsteps behind him and the hushed gruff voices. He clung to Mikoku’s still body; he couldn’t collapse now, not yet, not till he knew the monk was safe.
The woman gazed at the pair silently then nodded at two men who had come up behind him. Inuyasha nervously looked at both of them, shaking slightly. He didn’t like the felling one bit.
He moved towards the rear of the room slightly, no one was going to take Miroku away from him. No one! A warning growl left his lips as his ears pinned back.
“Bring him back so I can look at his wounds.”
Keeping a weary eye on the two heavy men at the entrance, the precious cargo in his arms growing heavier and heavier by the moment.
The healer led him back into the smaller room that smells of herbs and something else, something faint in the misty dark air.
The healer pointed to rough, handmade bed in one corner.” Put him there.”
Inuyasha knelt down, his legs all but giving out as he laid Miroku onto the clean mattress, his vision was blurring and the trembling was growing worse.
“Let go now, I will help him.”
Inuyasha felt the world darken as he slipped off into unconsciousness.
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TBC
E-mail- wind_voyager@yahoo.com
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Lost to the Night
-------------------------------
The winter moon stayed heavy and full in the dark sky, slowly starting it’s decent towards the horizon and to the other side of the world. The cool night air was laden with tiny silver and white stars as the thin curling mass of clouds slowly moved over the sky, ready to shed the soft cargo of tiny snowflakes.
Inuyasha groaned softly, pulling his arms back and under him, his head aching as badly as his shoulders and back, his vision blurring as he forced himself up. The last thing he could remember really was the walls of the shack and the tiny white flakes of snow falling through the door…the cold…the thick forest he had gotten lost in...Kikyo…the arrow shaft that had been broken off in his shoulder, the very same one that had brought his world crashing down into a sea of darkness.
He shivered under the unpleasant thought, shoving it from his mind, wondering how he had gotten free of the thick magic iron shackles that had bound him.
He didn’t know…it was all hazy...why Miroku was lying still at his feet.
He moved forward swaying slightly and he all but fell to his knees as they gave out.
“Miroku?”
Blood, the sharp stink of blood hit him like a sledgehammer, and it was coming off the monk in sickening waves, and off his own hand and clothing.
“Miroku!”
He all but crawled to him, rolling the young man onto his back. The purple and black robes were soaked with blood; far too much of the stuff of life clung to the martial. He searched the unconscious monk for wounds; trembling hands found the right arm was haphazardly bound with torn bits of cloth as if in effort to stem a blood flow. He felt sick, had he…no he couldn’t have.
“Miroku?” he gently shook the man, his eyes were closed and his skin was pale even under the moon’s light. He felt for a pulse, just barely finding it. His ears could hear how labored the monks breathing was.
He swallowed and carefully undid the makeshift bindings, full well knowing what lay underneath. His stomach leaped and turned into a knot. He started to wish he hadn’t done that, four bone deep gouges broke the pale flesh.
He knew what had done it, the only thing that could cause such deep clean cuts.
Claws, demons claws were sharp enough to do such terrible harm.
There was blood clinging to him that didn’t come from any of his own minor injuries; he stunk of Miroku’s blood.
But…how? Had he some how passed out, the monk freeing him from the shackles…it was unthinkable yet he was splattered with blood that was not his.
He couldn’t have…couldn’t..
He shook his head in denial.
But Miroku bore the evidence that said otherwise, his own unleashed rage.
Shaking with fear, he scooped the limp mass up, his arms barely able to hold him as he forced himself up, he looked around in desperation, and the whole town was abandoned. He didn’t know were he was or were the others were.
Miroku must have come looking for him and bore the assault.
He had to find help, find a healer, even if it meant facing the rage of a village or his companions; he had to find anyone with a medical knowledge.
He bit his lip in worry, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of habitation, any spark of a fire or smoke, any dam thing.
He needed help and he was willing to do anything to get it.
He almost didn’t see it in his desperation, a thin wisp of smoke in the far distance; the snow was coming heavier now.
-----------------
His strength was failing fast, the weight of Miroku felt as if it had been increased as he ran on. Blood clung to his hair and clothing, the smell lodged in his mind and lungs as he gathered the last of his waning strength and shattered nerves and put on a spurt of energy as he cleared a line of trees and burst into a clearing with several small huts gathered around it.
He cast a look around, feeling his legs starting to go, his breath coming in painful gasps as he blinked the tears away from his eyes. A few people had stepped outside their houses, the children were quickly and quietly ushered back inside by their mothers as the men picked up anything they could uses a weapon but made no move for him.
They stood staring at him with fear and distrust in their eyes. Inuyasha saw none of it; he made his way towards the healer’s house, set apart from the others. The small sign hanging out side declared it was a healer’s home as it swung on rusted hinges. He all but burst through the door.
He nearly collapsed on the floor right there and then, his muscles quivering. Blood was running over his arms and hands, the raspy breathing of the man in his arms matched his own.
The healer was a crinkled old woman who only watched the intruder that had barged into her home so late at night with neutral eyes, taking in the blood soaked half demon and his cargo.
Inuyasha had to take several deep breaths and tired his best to steady himself and his vision started to darken, he gathered everything he could in order just to speak.
“ Please….help him…”
The sharp eyes met his amber ones. “ What’s it to you, half breed?” she asked, her voice as strong as a cold wind tearing through the forest.
“ Everything….what…ever...you want...of me…I’ll do. Just help him.” Even if that anything included getting the hell beaten out of him, he was willing t bear it
His legs quivered more, threatening to go at any moment; his ears caught the sound of heavy footsteps behind him and the hushed gruff voices. He clung to Mikoku’s still body; he couldn’t collapse now, not yet, not till he knew the monk was safe.
The woman gazed at the pair silently then nodded at two men who had come up behind him. Inuyasha nervously looked at both of them, shaking slightly. He didn’t like the felling one bit.
He moved towards the rear of the room slightly, no one was going to take Miroku away from him. No one! A warning growl left his lips as his ears pinned back.
“Bring him back so I can look at his wounds.”
Keeping a weary eye on the two heavy men at the entrance, the precious cargo in his arms growing heavier and heavier by the moment.
The healer led him back into the smaller room that smells of herbs and something else, something faint in the misty dark air.
The healer pointed to rough, handmade bed in one corner.” Put him there.”
Inuyasha knelt down, his legs all but giving out as he laid Miroku onto the clean mattress, his vision was blurring and the trembling was growing worse.
“Let go now, I will help him.”
Inuyasha felt the world darken as he slipped off into unconsciousness.
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TBC