Ronin Warriors Fan Fiction ❯ Awakening Angel ❯ Lost Innocence ( Chapter 6 )

Disclaimer: *yawns* I don't own the Ronin Warriors, or any other organization and characters associated to them in the anime. I forgot the name of the guy who owns them, or I'd give him the credit he's due. Miaka, Shara, Kenji, and Rime are all mine.

Warning: I never, ever thought I'd have to write one of these. I know the previous parts of my story have been very PG, but I'm about to dive a bit into the world of R. This chapter contains a slightly graphic, and rather disturbing, scene. Rape, to be precise. Anyone who is offended by that act, or is rather squeamish, I suggest you turn back now. Okay. You've been warned.

Lost Innocence

Shara looked around the dark territory, at the large stone and wood Shinto shrine-style buildings, at the legions of Dynasty soldiers who marched around diligently. She stared in shock at the black, starless sky with its dark reddish-purple clouds and strange streaks of lightning. This was the realm of the Dynasty. A foreboding, terrible place that made her shudder in horror. She glanced at the other Warriors, expecting to see the same revulsion and distress on their faces. But they were all merely smiling, albeit rather grimly. This place was nothing new to them. The Ronins had been here before, and knew what to expect. They weren't new to this, like she was.

"How do you get used to this place?" Shara unsuccessfully tried to shake away the fright that had gripped her. "It's horrible!"

"Eh, it's not so bad." Ryo gave her a reassuring smile. "Lots of space. Pretty cool buildings. Plenty of mindless cronies to beat up. Sure, the view is a little gloomy, but you get used to it after a while. All in all, not a bad place to have a summer home."

She chuckled, her dark mood effectively broken. "Yeah, right. I'm sure this area will be on the best-selling real estate list this year." Shara tightened her grasp on her wooden staff and made sure her sword was in its sheath and firmly tied to her waist. "Alright, boys. So when does the fun begin?"

Sage nodded at a swarm of soldiers coming toward them from the right. "I'd say right about now. Too bad it'll be way too easy." Sighing, he lifted his sword and faced the approaching army.

"Thunderbolt Cut!"

A weak beam of green light trickled from his sword, not even traveling three feet before it vanished. The green Warrior staggered and fell with a small cry, the Armor of Halo vanishing when he struck the ground.

"Sage!" Shara fell beside him and shook him urgently. "What's wrong? What happened?"

His eyes fluttered open briefly. "… Weak… energy…. I think… from healing you… Must've… sapped my power… Just… gimme a few minutes…" Sage's body went limp in his wife's arms, the last traces of his strength extinguished by the effort of those few sentences.

"Just great. Only been here five minutes, and one of us is down already," Ryo grumbled. "Oh, well. Guess we have to make do."

"Let me. I haven't gotten to do enough so far." Kento raised his Naginata and waved it in the air before plunging it into the ground.

"Iron Rock Crusher!"

The earth split from the point of impact and a great crevasse rushed toward the Dynasty minions. Giant rocks, boulders really, flew through the air and struck the unsuspecting legions, crushing them with their incredible weight. The fighters who were unfortunate enough to dodge the rocks were swallowed by the gaping fissure and incinerated by the molten rock that churned below. Soon there was nothing left of the Dynasty force.

"Yeah!" Kento pumped his fist in the air. "That completely rocked!" They all groaned at the terrible pun.

"You won't be allowed to fight if you keep making jokes like that," Ryo warned his friend teasingly. He glanced over his shoulder to check on Shara and Sage and swore under his breath.

"Oh, boy. Looks like trouble."

Coming over a hill was an army of soldiers that was ten-times larger than the one Kento had destroyed. Leading the troops was a tall man in navy and powder blue armor. His thick black hair ruffled in the wind and a scythe gleamed in his right hand.

Shara's breath caught in her throat. "It… It's him! That's the man who kidnapped Kenji!"

Rowen's head snapped around. "Him, huh? Good. Come on, boys. Let's teach these clowns a lesson they'll never forget."

The other three chimed in their agreement and, together, the four Warriors charged up the hill, leaving Shara to take care of Sage. In just a few seconds, the sound of metal against metal rang through the air as the battle began.

Shara grabbed her husband and tried to drag him out of the way of the violence. "You pick the worst times to check out on us, darlin'. I hope the guys can manage without you." She sat by Sage's side and rubbed his hand between her palms, trying to wake him up. When that didn't work, she began slapping his cheeks, lightly at first, but with increasing intensity. .But he still showed no signs of reviving.

Shara turned her attention to the battle, watching her friends struggling to stop the advancement of the Dynasty troops. They definitely had their hands full. Ryo was dodging dozens of attacks, countering each with a whirl of silver slashes. Kento and Cye stood back-to-back, surrounded by a circle of downed minions the two had managed to destroy. Rowen had distanced himself from the action and was firing arrow after arrow into the mob. They were doing fantastically well. But still the soldiers kept coming. For every soldier felled, two more quickly took his place. There seemed to be no end to the resources of the Dynasty.

"I wish I could do something…" Shara cursed her own impotence. She turned back to Sage and started shaking him. "You've gotta get up! They need you over-" She cut off her sentence as she saw her husband's eyelids begin to flicker. "Oh! Sage!"

He stared at her, his voice groggy. "… Shar… Look…"

Her eyes narrowed in concern. "… What do you want, sweetie?"

"Behind… look…"

"Sa-" An arm snaked around her throat, choking off the rest of her words. She scratched at the arm, trying to loosen it, but it was shielded from her nails by dark blue armor and clenched too tightly to be budged. The person clutching her shifted slightly and Shara felt icy breath on her ear.

"Hello again, Shara. The Empress is looking forward to meeting you."

Her eyes widened in surprise. She recognized that voice. It was the same chilling tone of the Warlord she had met before. The man who had kidnapped her son. Shara glanced at her husband with pleading eyes, begging him to help. He was struggling to sit up, but was obviously in no condition to assist her in any manner. She dropped her hand from the Warlord's arm and groped for her sword. Just as she closed her hand on it and was slowly pulling it from its sheath, the Warlord ripped her belt from her waist.

"Naughty girl. You shouldn't play with dangerous toys like that." He jerked her to her feet and laughed. "Time for a little trip."

She closed her eyes, concentrating all her energy into a mental shout that would hopefully reach Rowen. Rowen! Help me! The Warlord… I don't know… He's got me… Please… Help…

Rowen's head snapped around, startled to hear the desperate voice in his mind. "Shara…?" He saw the armored man clutching her and finally realized why she had called out. The Ronin turned away from the battle and sprinted toward the struggling woman, desperate to save her.

The Warlord glanced up as the Warrior approached, smiled coldly, and then vahished, along with his captive, in a flash of silver-blue light.

Rowen fell to his knees and swore under his breath. Shara was gone, and there was nothing more he could do. Tearfully, the Ronin hurried back to the battle.

----------------------------------------------------

The Warlord threw his prisoner on the floor of the brightly lit room and chuckled at the sound of the thud of her body. "I'd like to stay and chat, but I have a battle to win. You'll be attended to shortly. Don't try even think of escaping." He vanished once more, leaving Shara alone.

She pushed herself up from the floor, amazed by the soft forest green carpet underneath her fingertips. As she gazed around the room, her astonishment only grew. The walls were white and ecorated with lovely paintings of nature and animals. Beautiful wooden beams that added an old-fashioned feel to the room adorned the high ceiling. A lovely mahogany dresser and armoire added to the elegance of the space. But the centerpiece of the area was obviously the majestic antique bed its delicate lace canopy. Shara reached out timidly and touched the intricate cloth. It was real and beautiful. She ran her hands down the soft dark green quilt and silky white satin sheets. Also real, also beautiful. Shara shook her head, astounded by her surroundings. After seeing the darkness of the Dynasty realm, this room seemed completely out of place.

"Lovely, isn't it?"

She whirled around at the sound of the soft voice. Her gaze fell upon an incredibly handsome man with wild blue hair and bewitching eyes the deep blue-green of the oceans. His face was strong and proud, his lips curved softly in a sensuous smile. Long, muscled legs stretched out in front of him, clad luxuriously in black silk pants. His bare chest gleamed in the overhead light, toned and perfect. The man stood and began walking toward her, each movement graceful and fluid.

"We created this room just for you. Did Rime tell you that?" He looked at her expectantly before answering his own question. "No, I suppose not. Rime is a good Warlord, but he isn't really the best conversationalist." The man sat on the bed and gestured for her to sit beside him. "Please. Have a seat. There is much I have to discuss with you."

She hesitated briefly. This man was obviously a member of the Dynasty, but his manner was completely different than any of the Warlords or other soldiers she had met. He reminded her of someone, but she couldn't quite figure out whom. Shara finally decided to sit on the bed, but picked a place several feet away from him.

"Not very trusting, are you? Ah, well. It doesn't matter." He leaned back against the pillows and flashed her a charming smile. "Would you like to hear a story? See, there's this rumor going around about how a female wearing any Armor is a sign of the future arrival of the ultimate power. It seems that only two women throughout all of history have been able to wear the Armors. No one knows why, but the powers of the Armors have always been given to men. Anyway, Lady Kayura was the first woman to wear any of the Armors. Hers was given to her by Anubis, but if it wasn't for her abilities as an Ancient, she would most likely be unable to use the Armor. And you are the second, Shara. But you are very, very special, you see. For you were born a Ronin, which is something that has never happened before. Your ability to use Armors is not a side effect of some other power you were born with, such as in Kayura's case, but instead it comes naturally. This makes you a bit of a freak, for lack of a better word."

She shook her head, confused. "I… don't understand why any of this is important. So I'm a girl. Big deal."

"Oh, but it certainly is a 'big deal.' The Dynasty is abuzz with the fear of what kind of power the child of two Ronins might possess. It seems that somewhere in the most ancient texts is written a legend of an unstable Armor that can be either used for good or evil. Or at least that's what our scholars believe. There are no specifics on the subject of how someone can make it appear, or what exactly it looks like, but now everyone around here is wondering if the child of two people who are capable of using Armors could use it. This is the first time this theory could ever be tested."

"That's why you kidnapped Kenji…"

"Yes, precisely. Unfortunately, the child was too weak and our attempts to summon the Armor by using him as a catalyst resulted in his untimely death. An unfortunate setback for our experiment. The Empress came up with a theory for why the boy didn't survive. He is the son of a rather weak member of the Ronins, compared to his friends Rowen and Ryo, that is, and of a Warrior who no longer possesses her Armor. There is nothing to be done about the second factor, but if a stronger man who possesses an Armor were to have a child with that woman, perhaps the new child will be strong enough to gain the power of the legendary Armor."

She moved to stand, already sensing the reason for his presence, the reason for the beautiful bedroom. "No…"

"Yes, my dear girl. The Empress doesn't believe any of your fellow Ronins would be strong enough to conceive such a child. So she has left the honor to her strongest Warlord." He inclined his head in a gracious nod, as if Shara had just paid him a compliment. "That, of course, is me."

"No!" She jumped off the bed and ran across the room, searching for a door, a window, any way out. "You can't!"

He stood and glided toward her, the soft smile still on his face. "Now, now. It isn't anything to be afraid of. It certainly won't be terrible for you, unless you make it that way. Just give in and things will be much easier on you." The man extended his hand and placed it on her trembling shoulder.

She shuddered at his touch and slapped his hand away. "Get your hands off of me. There's absolutely no way I'd give myself to an evil monster like you!"

His beautiful eyes darkened in anger. "Monster? Hardly. I merely do what I am told. I'm a servant of my Empress, and must do her bidding. You understand, of course." His hand shot out and gripped her wrist painfully. "There's no use in trying to run. This room is completely sealed off from the outside world. And don't try to fight me, either. I'm much stronger than you'll ever be."

She tried to shake off his hand, but it was impossible. Then he pulled her against him, holding her so she felt the bones of his arms on the bones of her ribs, her legs jerked tight against his, and his mouth on hers. She did not know if she lay passive in his arms for a moment from the shock of feeling his skin against her or if terror had immediately overtaken her body and forced her to twist her body in an attempt to escape. She tried to tear herself away. Her blows fell on arms that did not seem to feel them. Her fists beat against his shoulders and face, but nothing seemed to faze the man.

He moved one hand, took her wrists, pinned them behind her and under his arm. The movement wrenched her shoulder blades and a flash of pain washed over Shara. She twisted her head back. She felt his hand beginning to undo the buttons of her blouse. She struggled fiercely, and managed to tear herself away.

Shara fell back against the dresser. Her hands clasped the edge of it behind her, her eyes wide and shapeless in terror. He was laughing soundlessly, an excited glint in his eyes. Perhaps he had released her on purpose. He stood, his legs apart, his arms hanging at his sides. She glanced around the room once more, futilely hoping a door had miraculously appeared in the last minute. He took a step forward and her shoulders drooped in despair. She huddled closer to the table, trying to get any kind of protection possible. He approached and placed his hands on her shoulders. She was pinned to the wall. One hand released her briefly and he finished tearing open her blouse.

"Stop! Please!" she screamed, but his only response was to grip the inside of her elbows, pinning her arms back.

He brought his lips to her nipples, moving quickly from one to the other and back again. She closed her eyes and tried to deny this was happening. Her confused body responded to his caresses, stirring in ways few had ever made it. But her mind screamed for her to fight and try to break away. It was like sinking into warm quicksand; for a moment, it felt good, but it only promised trouble.

She continued to squirm under his pincerlike fingers. His tongue drew a line from one breast to another and then he began to lower his body. His lips ran over her stomach and down to the waist of her pants. He gripped her wrists together with one hand and used the other to unfasten her jeans and slide them off her hips and down her slender legs. They landed in a denim puddle at her feet, soon followed by a smaller silky puddle of green. He looked up at her, his eyes wild with desire. The glint in them was enough to make her heart race even faster, to pound even more violently.

Unable to get around him, unable to escape in any way, she simply covered her eyes as he released her arms to embrace her thighs and draw them to his face. Her legs folded up and she slid down the wall to the floor.

His breathing was hard and heavy. All Shara could do was cry as his hands moved over her body. Exploring. Caressing.

His hands were suddenly removed from her body. She removed her hands from her eyes for a moment and saw him lowering his pants. The sight sent a bolt of fear up her spine. It reawakened the fighter in her and she fought like an animal, scratching and clawing at his face. But he seized her wrists and turned her until she was on her back on the soft carpet. In one swift motion he slipped himself between her legs.

Shara wrenched one hand free and pummeled his head with a flurry of blows. He didn't even acknowledge them. Instead he moved himself into a more comfortable position, his lips catching the soft flesh of her breasts as he nibbled his way over her bosom.

Suddenly she felt his hardness pressing itself firmly against her until he forced himself inside. It drove into her tight, resisting flesh, which tore and bled.

She fought even harder, but she made no sound. She did not call for help, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her break down that completely. She could hear the blows she delivered to him. He only gasped with pleasure. She felt the blood beating in her throat, the hatred, the helpless terror. She felt the hatred in his hands, his hands that moved all over her body. She fought in a last outburst. Then the sudden pain shot up through her body and she screamed. Then she lay still. She lay on her back, as he had left her, not moving. She felt empty.

Shara didn't move for a long time. She didn't even notice when the man rose and left her. She was still caught up in the horror of the experience. A wonderful act that could be performed in tenderness, as a bond of love, had been degraded into nothing more than a symbol of humiliation and conquest. Not as love, but as defilement. None of his movements had held one shred of tenderness. Shara wanted to remain cold, untouched by the thing done to her body. But she was screaming inside.

She had felt him shaking with the agony of an unbearable pleasure. She knew that she had given that to him, her body. The thought brought her to tears.

After quite some time, Shara finally raised her head and looked at him. He lay still across the bed, his head propped up casually on the white pillows. She heard his soft, shallow breaths. She watched him get up, walk over to the chair he had been sitting in at the beginning, tip an imaginary hat to her, and then vanish from the room.

Shara slowly sat up and wrapped her arms around her bare chest. She heard a sound that came from somewhere within her. The dry, short sound of a sob. But she was not crying. Her eyes were held paralyzed, dry and open. A jolt ran down her throat to her stomach. She stood awkwardly, doubled over, clutching her stomach. She found that she couldn't stop shaking. The need to take a bath was overwhelming, to sit in scalding hot water, allowing it to wash away the lingering feeling of his hands on her skin. She staggered over to the bed, wanting to draw the covers over her head and never come out again. Shara collapsed on the bed and welcomed the blackness that rapidly descended.

AN: … I don't even know what to say. I don't know what on Earth possessed me to write this… Ugh. I've even depressed myself. I can't think of anything to write for the next chapter 'cause this one downed me too much… Someone remind me to never do anything like this again. Please.