Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Akuma no Dorei ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

AN: I just want to disclaim any references to the multiple ninja animes out there. Without them being there, I would never have thought of this story. This is my first original story as well, and would like some constructive criticism coming my way, or hyped up optimistic reviews, I don't care which.

Summary: Nakaharu Aya and his friends of the Kouga clan are tricked into being the servants of power-driven demons. Sandwiched between the modern world and the world of demons, they must learn to survive the trials of being a demon's slave.

Warnings: I have a few warnings listed, but I just thought that the others would follow without too much thought. This story is not for the tender-hearted. There will be torture, there will be nonconsensual sex, there will be angst and many dark themes. Personally, I like it! Hope that, if you continue to read, you'll love it too.


Prologue

Beyond excited, Nakaharu Aya could barely step from branch to branch. He often tripped. The young men who travelled with him were loud, just as pumped. They were boys of the Kouga tribe, from the Hidden Hilt village. Each of them were listed to be in the Kurabare Village's shinobi tournament. Though the elders of the village vaguely gave the games a bad omen, especially since Kurabare was such a modern place for a shinobi town- they even had newfangled computers and wonderful sports cars- the boys couldn't be kept from vainly displaying their skills, especially since there will Iga's finest there as well.

The Iga ninjas were the Kouga ninja's ultimate rivals. Their disliking for each other wasn't nearly as bad as in the ancient times, where their ancestors tried hundreds of times to destroy one another. Still, whenever there was a challenge between the two clans, neither side would try backing down.

It was a gorgeous day. The sun bright with spring strength and the foliage shared that strength to flaunt their many green leaves and young flowers. The small blooms rustled with the tiniest wind and seemed like fine hair shimmering in the wind. These breezes were warm, the temperature a mild one that didn't interfere with their layers of clothing. They were near a highway and could hear the whirring of cars and the occasional honk of a horn.

Aya slipped again, landing on a faulty branch his distracted mind had registered as strong enough. His friend Watanabe Takehito pulled him up, laughing.

"You've got to be more careful, Aya-kun. You'll break a leg and never'll be able to beat those Iga brats."

"Well, then, you better kick their asses for me."

"Damn straight!" Ita Koga cried. He was the chief elder's great-grandson. "But I don't think Aya will go down that easily, the big demon."

The others laughed good-naturedly, even Aya, though being called a demon was among the worst insults ever to give a ninja. He had been called that when he was younger. Handsome as he was, he was larger than the average Japanese male, a lot of muscle like an American body-builder. He had been called baby-face and oni in the same setting, and now it no longer bothered him nor anyone else that had accepted him, even when his hair changed red, eyes purple, from their normal black, whenever he was angry, or maybe scared, but no one was ever foolish enough to say his morphs were ever because he was afraid.

They were equipped with more than their normal wares, just in case they did meet a demon, or even rogue ninjas, who worked the black market between the ninja world and the modern world. They sold, the boys heard, the hair of both men and women, scraping the hair from severed heads. The bones of the decapitated bodies would be removed and crushed into super elstic, super strong glue to be used by other rogue ninjas and gangs in the real world. Then there was scrap organs for underground doctors , and the rest of the body was ground up into meat cubes to be sold to cannibal tribes.

As bad as nrogue ninjas seemed to be, they weren't as awful as demons. Heartless beasts, they would ruin a village just for the pleasure of seeing blood spilled and destruction spread. Many demons were abnormal, with multiple penises to penetrate several people at once. Many arms to kill dozens simultaneously. Worst of all, demons were known to have a sadistic streak and were able to keep up torturing victims for days, months, and maybe even years at a time. All clans, all tribes have had members succumb to the genius wiles of demons, who could sometimes attract humans with money or sex and seem like perfectly normal shinobi. Just like rogue ninjas.

Sometimes Aya had trouble telling the difference between the two when people talked vaguely about one or the other. Still, he wanted to meet neither on his way to the Kurabare tournament- or ever in his life. He's never even killed another, which may be surprising to some, since rogue ninjas were really common.

Then there was the modern humans, with their guns and cars. The scientist and builders especially. Thought the ninja clans were protected by government, there were no little amount of pettifoggers theat would side with businesses and take lands from the tribes. And scientists could set up ingenious traps and spies among tribes, kidnap individuals and do gods know what to them. The boys were in even more danger, travelling outside the village.

But, being males, they still went on their way. Most disconcerting was the fact that they insisted on being without chaperones, especially since the tournament asked for it. Technically they were old enough to fend for themselves, but mothers weren't so keen on that concept and packed extra weapons for their boys. The Hidden Hilt village was actually in the midst of rebuilding after a particularly violent combined attack from rogue ninjas and scienties, and couldn't afford to have some valuable jounins escorting capable young chounin.

Once the village elders had tried to call upon the government for aid, but was resisted by multiple modern human barriers, like money and gangs. This was an ongoing battle for ninjas.

Luckily, the boys believed, they had Aya, who was said to have scared away a demon in his younger years, though Aya couldn't remember or believe such an incident like that happened. Nonetheless, he was almost a jounin with his current power. His friends enjoyed his fame and valued his strength when it came to missions or tournaments. The scroll said that they were going to work individually for team points. They could count on Aya for a majority of those points for the contest, no matter who he went up against.

Finally they reached Kurabare village, flying from the trees and landing deftly on the balls of their feet on the ground. They walked lesurely towards the crowded village of the Banten clan, one of the most peaceful clans in Japan, and the youngest. In the village, they asked for the whereabouts of the tournament site and received strange, quick gestures towards the place.

Takahashi Miroku, a peaceful boy of sixteen, and the youngest in their group, said quietly, "I don't like this place. Maybe we should go home."

"I can't believe you were picked, anyway, Miroku," Koga muttered. "Are you afraid the Iga would ground you to a pulp?"

"I've worked just as hard as you have, just not as long. And I think there's something wrong with this tournament," Miroku said defensively, pulling on the cuffs of his habiliments.

"The people are acting sort of strange," Takehito muttered.

"No one's going to the tournament," Aya added, and he was right. No one in the village was walking the same way they were. Matter-of-fact, a good many of them were hurrying away. This made all the boys uneasy. There were eight of them, including Nakaharu Aya- Watanabe Takehito, Ita Koga, Takahashi Miroku, Kajuji Ken, Yamanaki Shin, Sone Honda, and Baisotei Asami. All in all they truly were the best of the best, including little Miroku, taking away just a few men from the village. Pride, the sense of upholding the village reputation, and the promise of the rival Igas prescence gave them fuel to continue to the tournament, but they were getting more and more uneasy the rarer they saw people. One woman really busted their resolve, but only momentarily, for they could see the tournament's vast tent.

She came up to Aya and said hoarsely, "Turn back, if you value your lives. Please, turn back." She looked at his Kouga badge. "The Iga aren't worth it."

"You, woman!" shouted a guard standing at the entrance of the tent.

He had a gun.

"What are you saying, woman?" he cried, but the woman ran off and the guard followed her, muttering, "The little bitch."

Aya stopped the guard, who was almost a whole two heads shorter than him, and said, "Please, sir, We'll still go. Don't hurt her."

The guard grinned savagely, face mostly hidden by huge sunglasses. "You boys here for the tournament." He looked at their badges. "Oh, you're supposed to be those good ones from Kouga. Hope you're as good as those Iga. All but one passed the first test."

Nervousness had them reacting quickly, Koga shouting, "We're a hell of a lot better than that!"

Ken banged him and Miroku on the back, pushing them all foward. "We'll get them for sure," but his voice shook.

Behind them, when all the boys were safely in the tent, the bodyguard took after the woman again.

All the tirbes were represented in the tent, lighted by electric overhead lamps and the familiar kerosene ones. The tent looked infinitely larger on the inside; they were even unable to see the ceiling, looking like an abyss above them. They went past other competitors from Banten, including their Kurabare and Yamanashi villages, the crowing Iga, and Fuuma, all who were in various strange tasks. There were no fights or target throws. Many of th eboys were blindfolded in their contests. All the competitors, except them, of course, were naked, yet the judges weren't, and the guards, two of which escorted them to a table on the side of the tent. The Kouga boys quickly regretted coming to the strange place.

"Sir, do we have to get naked?" Miroku asked apprehensively, closing a hand around his suit.

"Sure do, boy. That's the second task. Can't do that, go home. And whenever one of the judges tell you to go home, you better go home."

"Do we have to?"

"Nope, but if you value your life, you'll leave," the guard warned. "However you can't leave unless you're dismissed. If you do, your whole team loses, and your village is disgraced. Your honor and your lives are at stake here."

Panicked for the first time, and usually the stoic one, quiet Asami said, "What do you mean, 'our lives are at stake'? We aren't fightin gto the death, are we?"

"What's the matter with you?!" yelled one of the men at the table. He gave a chary glance upwards at the pitch black ceiling. "Don't get the Kouga boys, at least, worked up. There's nothing to worry about."

Next to him, a man with a mustache gave them clipboards and pens to fill out some forms demanding the regular like their names and height and any special attributes or talents. Somehow, when they started writing, the pen urged them to continue giving the form more and more information, some of which they would have gladly left blank, like how big their penises grew when aroused and how many times they've had sex. Aya even put down how his hair and eyes changed colors, something he wasn't even allowed to reveal. Finally, the pens exhausted everything they knew about themselves, and somewhat invountarily, they handed over the documents to the guards at the table.

"Wait, I wrote some stuff-" Aya started, but the guard with the mustache snarled at him to be quiet. Behind them another Kouga village had arrived. They had been writing for a long time. The clean-shaven guard led them over sideways to a large black ball of stone. Two of the Fuuma village boys already there couldn't pick it up, and the guard watching tried to persuade them to go along home, but they refused.

"Your funeral," muttered the guard in a low voice only Aya could hear as he was the nearest. These Fuuma were beefy boys, probaby from a foreign country, for one of them was blond. Because of this, Miroku didn't think he could pick up the stone either. Surprisingly to the others, except the guards, he picked up the mysterious stone with one arm. All the Kouga boys could lift it, and they clapped one another on the back.

"That was only the first test," the guard said, "Now, take off your clothes. I'm going to apply this oil to your spine and see how well you do in the trials. You crack once, you're gone."

"What's the oil gonna' do?" asked Ken, who, ilke the others, was obediently taking off his suit, his mesh, and the rest of his armor.

"Don't worry about it. Oh- forgot to tell you back at the table: If any large handsome guys in a kimono wearing red sashes come up to you or ask about you, don't give them any lip. If he asks for you, you get to him quick."

"Why should we do that?"

"You do it, or be disqualified."

"Odd rules," Shin whispered to himself, and the oil was applied to his back. He twitched a bit at its coldness.

Alarmed, the guard asked,"Does it hurt?"

"No. What will happed if it does?"

"You'll be out of the competition."

The rest of them had the weird sort of heavy feeling oil applied without difficulty, but the other Kouga members behind them weren't so lucky; five of the eight there began to screaming as son as the oil was applied, and their guard splashed large amounts of green liquid on their backs to get the oil off. All the shinobi there had stopped to watch, and one said he really wanted to go home, and left at the expense of his village's honor. Yet, other groups left as well, making the guards try to persuade some of them to stay. They left through the only entrance or exit, the back was a pit of darkness unlike anything they've seen before. Staring at it too long made the hair on their necks stand on end, just like the ceiling.

Aya was first for the next strange test. he was blindfolded and told to hit a small black plate with an even smaller black spoon. At first, he thought it was impossible.

The guard, with a clipboard of their documents, and apparently their judge, chuckled softly, saying, "Just hit where you think it is. Your instinct is your best shot, boy." So that's what Aya did, and guessed where the plate was every time, on his first try. Miroku was the only one to do as well as him, and the others weren't too far behind in the skill, except Honda, who got a bit puzzled in the middle of it. However he wasn't told to go home, the guard telling them that this test wasn't so cutthroat, as long as their oiled backs didn't start troubling them. Then the next test required something similar. The object of the game was to feel out the plate with their minds and lift the plate, with their minds. Blindfolded.

As crazy as it sounded, it was accomplished, Miroku doing the best, lifting the plate in front of his astonished peers. Aya took awhile but also managed to lift the plate. Honda, a bit slow and timid as usual, managed to lift it longer than Miroku, but the other's hardly understood the concept at all. Yet, again, they were not told to leave.

"I never even knew I could do something like that. Did you see that?" Honda asked innocently.

"We all did, Hon-kun," Takehito said, and, though they were naked, patted him on the back. Being undressed around one another was nothing to them, as they were the best of friends anyway. But the environment made the affectionate gesture more stilted.

"Now we really test you boys' strength," the judge told them, tapping an extremely large black stone, about three times as big as the first time. "You first, big boy."

Aya was about to walk up to the stone before he realized there was soemone towering over him, which hasn't been so since he was thirteen, and then he shot over his father. To know someone was taller than him and walked with such an air of power around him made Aya choke with dread. He didn't even lookthe guy in the face and was the most terrified he ever was, for no particular reason at all. All he could see was the man's red sash.

"Give me his file," the man drawled, tongue lazy and rolling round his Japanese. Like a shinobi, he whispered a spell and disappeared in the next instant.

"I can remember your stats well enough," the guard muttered. "Strong as you are. Anyway, come on, lift it."

Aya questioned in his mind what the tall man wanted with his stats, but didn't say anything. He had the scary hunch that what he wanted didn't matter in the least. Despite his pessimistic thoughts, Aya lifted the rock with minimal effort; they all did, and the judge let out a woop, and some of the other competitors, except the scornful Iga, began to clap for them.

"Haven't had the whole team lift if for awhile. Look, some other red sashes are coming for some of you." The boys didn't think this was particularly good, but were quiet nonetheless.

Not unlike the man that was here before, these men before them were all taller than Aya. Other than their height, they were more different on looks and sizes than totally different species of humans. Some were astonishingly handsome, some so ugly Aya had to look away for fear of vomiting over his naked self. They impatiently requested their files, and a few requested for the same one, especially Aya's, but his was already gone to a man named Leo, a foreign man with no last name. The group of tall men muttered about this and left Aya's case alone, but fought over Miroku's file until the guard said he'll go make copies. He was out of the tent and back in record time, doling out the files, but eventually had to go back to make copies of all their files for those men that wanted more than one. They too said spells that made them vanish into nothing.

"Why do they want our files? What are our files for?" Asami asked. "Or are those also questions you can answer but don't want to tell us?"

The guard laughed. "It's all almost over. The last teams have already arrived and you only need three more tests to agree to."

"What exactly does the winner get?" Miroku inquired, not really expecting an answer and didn't receive one.

"Hm," was all the guard said.

The first of the last three tests they had to swing around different weapons, some of which only a particular boy could lift, and the second they were told to read things that were obviously there but only soem of them could see. When they got to the last trial, set apart from the rest of the tent by curtains and told to sit in folded seats set in a circle. They were unaware of what was to happen but a bit nervous all the same. The boys outside the curtain gave them shaded looks and nervous grins. The Iga had pointed to them and laughed.

Now, one of the tall handsome men with the red sash aroun dhis waist stood in the middle of their circle, and the judge/bodyguard gave him their copies of files, saying he was glad he was done. The man, his hair short and pointing in dangerous-looking spikes, and having glowing red eyes, gave them each a stare up and down their exposed bodies, smirking in a self-satisfied that turned their bowels to water. Aya growled when the man's gaze lingered too long on him for his tastes- then he was smacked with a hand he didn't see coming. It was quicker than a spinning shuriken, and left him on the floor, blood running from his mouth because of a bitten cheek.

"You all just listen quietly or I'll kill you," said the abnormal man, smiling a feral grin. "You've been the best group so far. It will be rewarding for us to tell the scientists in the modern world how well the Kouga Hidden Hilt village is doing. You know they thought of this little shindig for us."

"You're a demon," Miroku gasped. "This was all a trap."

"Precisely, clever boy. Those little tests were just to say how compatitable you were in the demon world. The oil was concentrated miasma. The stones the equivalent of different pressures of demon power. The blindfold test assessed your ability to sense supernatural danger in the world, so that you can take care of yourself in the world. Like I said, you've done extremely well and would have won something if there was anything to win." The demon laughed darkly at his own joke.

"Why are you testing our compatibility with demons?" Honda asked, clearly confused. "Why us?"

"Well," the demon stalled, scratching his chin. "We demons were recently called to give up our pets to His Majesty for the century feast. And now we want to replace those pets. All the boys here were chosen based on two criteria: sexual appeal and talent. Have you noticed that your talented friend Kurabawa wasn't invited?"

"He's fat," said Ken. "And we're chosen to be some demon's slaves?"

"Precisely, and no. It is unlikely that any of you will share a master, considering your talents, and only the best of hte demons will be able to keep you."

"What if we refuse?" Asami declared.

"Then us demons hold you captive, kill your tribe, and torture you until you die. And if we don't want you to die, you won't."

"Oh, gods," Shin whispered, promptly wetting himself, the seat, and the floor.

None of them could believe this was happening, and the demon laughed as Shin sat humiliated in his own piss. They had many warnings, not what was going to happen, but the feeling that something may happen: the people scared to show them the way, the woman begging them to go home, the way the guards kept referring to the end of their lives and urging the losers to leave. It should have been obvious something like this would happen.

"You boys are the only ones I'm telling the truth to. Everyone else I told they lost, except the Iga, who is only going to lose one. You see, once you lose a round for whatever reasons, and the guard tells you to go home, that proves you're not qualified for a demon master. If you don't leave, you'll be eaten."

"Please!" Miroku cried. "Tell them now."

"Shush, boy. It's their own stupidity for staying. Now, the only way any of you can leave alive is if one of you names me your master. That' s the main reason I told you about the tournament, so that none of you would question this test. I don't want neither Miroku or Aya. Miroku's too popular and Aya is too powerful. So, who is it going to be?"

They were silent for awhile, still soaking it all in, and trembling in fear. The one's not rejected could only close their legs in on themselves in shame. Then Honda whispered softly.

"I'm a bit- I'm not too intelligent. But if you'll have me- what am I saying?" Honda said wondrously to himself.

"You're just the first to conquer your fears, my boy- or should I say, my pet?" Come here." However much Honda had conquered his fears, he couldn't bring himself any closer to the demon, whose eyes were glowing bright in excitement. The demon merely curled one clawed finger of his left hand and Honda was lifted by an invisible force to the tips of his toes, then dragged towards the demon and fell flush on him. They could see Honda's slender legs shiver in fright. Like most Japanese men, he was skinny, but darker from working in the sun.

"Why not women?" Honda asked, his voice shaking.

The demon smiled, caressing Honda's bare hips, "Women have these annoying habits of fainting and having babies, and they aren't nearly so good-smelling when their ovaries are removed. We done away with women over the last centruy. Now, you other boys can leave. My new pet will attend to me, Mikami."

The others reluctantly left Honda alone with the demon, Miroku staying behind fo ra moment to ask Mikami not to kill him, to which the demon muttered not to be insane.

"Demon compatible humans are hard to come by."

And so they sat among the other tribes, waiting for the last tribes to finsih their trials. These tribes didn't do so well, on average only four making it with the oil and one of them being able to lift the bigger stone. The tribes among them were despondent for the wrong reasons, and the Iga were goading the Kouga boys. When the last tribes went into the cut-off site, and presumably told they had lost, the last man told them that Mikami will them the results of the tournament shortly.

Then Honda began to scream, which, after a long while, turned to pained moans. Too long after that, Mikami came out alone, naked, his elongated penis covered in blood.