Yami No Matsuei Fan Fiction ❯ Angels By Blood, Bound By Fate ❯ Chapter 7 ( Chapter 7 )

 

 

 

 

 

The light and alluring scent of cherry-blossoms fills the air as the petal filled breezes comb through the light golden-brown hair of Hisoka, the petals gently caressing his cheek.

 

“This world is so beautiful…”, he sighs, closing his emerald-eyes to enjoy the tranquility of the aromatic wind.

 

“Ah, what a beautiful boy you are!”, a male voice exclaims.

 

Hisoka's eyes snap-open and he franticly searches around for the source of the voice, finding no one there only the cherry-blossom trees. He suddenly feels something wrap around his ankle causing him to look down to find a tree-root encircling his limb and as his eyes fell onto the wooden-shackle, another root comes from nowhere and wraps itself around his other ankle and the tree-branches descend and grab his wrists, lifting him into the air.

 

“What's the matter boy? Not expecting that?”, the voice taunts.

 

“Show yourself!”, Hisoka demands.

 

“You should be more respectful to your elders, boy!”, the voice scolds, as the wooden-limbs tighten making Hisoka scream out in pain as the rough-bark shreds through his clothing scraping against his skin, creating minute droplets of blood.

 

The restraints stop moving but still kept a tight-hold on him, Hisoka weakly lifts his head in pain to look at the tree that the roots and branches belonged to watching as the trunk began to shift and morph into the head and shoulders of a male with silver hair & eyes causing Hisoka's eyes to widen in fear.

 

“Muraki!”, he yells.

 

“You're too over-dressed for my tastes, boy…”, Muraki spat, as more branches and roots circle around the young angel's lean-torso, tighten & loosen tearing the flimsy-cloth from his body and minutely scratching the flesh on his chest and arms, “There, that's a little better…”, he hisses, “But not enough…”, he adds, as one root raises and slips underneath the waist-band of his pants, but before Hisoka could scream out in protest a branch wraps itself around his head, successively gagging him as the root began to rip through his pants until it hung in two pieces bunched around his ankles.

 

“Oh, this will never do…”, the wooden demonic-angel chides, wrapping one of his wooden-tentacles the limp-member in between Hisoka's legs.

 

Hisoka's emerald-eyes squeeze-shut as the rough-appendage begins to pump and a scream of pain tried to tear itself from his throat but the gagging-branch prevented him from doing so. Tears begin their descent down his cheeks from pain as the extremely-delicate flesh was scraped, scratched, and shredded.

 

“You really need to learn how to enjoy this…”, Muraki mocks, as he wraps a branch around Hisoka's waist lifting his butt into the air and moves one of the roots up against his anus, “This won't hurt me, but it most definitely will hurt you a lot…”, he chuckles, as he slowly starts to push the tip inside, tearing flesh as it does.

 

`Not again…', Hisoka thinks in horror, before his vision turns white from the pain.

 

 

 

 

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“How is Hisoka-kun doing, Asato?”, Ruka asks, looking across the truck-bed at the sleeping angel with his head pillowed by Tsuzuki's lap.

 

“He's tossing and turning, and groaning in his sleep. He must be having a really bad nightmare”, her sibling replies, patting Hisoka's head trying to comfort the younger male in his sleep, but to no avail.

 

Hisoka suddenly bolts up right, his green-eyes glazed over in fear and sweat dripping from his face.

 

“Hisoka you're alright, you were just having a bad dream”, Asato assures, pulling him backwards in a loose embrace.

 

“T-Tsuzuki…?”, he stammers, slowly coming out of his fear induced panic, before crushing his face against the older-male's chest and begins to sob.

 

“Hisoka?”, he gasps, completely stunned at his behavior.

 

“What's wrong?”, his sibling questions.

 

“I-I don't know… He just started crying…”

 

“Maybe he dreamt of his attack?”, Watari suggests.

 

“Probably…”, Tsuzuki mutters, as he hugs the younger angel when he notices that he had drifted off back to sleep on his chest.

 

 

 

 

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“A great clash of Light and Dark

Two heirs descend

One lost to calamity

The other restrained

 

From the Darkness one come forth

This personage holds the Light

Wielding it for Darker purposes,

Stripping away purity and hope

The harbinger of destruction”, Aya recites to herself as she looks at the image in her mirror of the two young angels; her adjectives, while she sat on the branch of a tree, “Wings of Pitch-Black…”

 

“Have you located them yet?”, a male's voice interrupts, as the image on the mirror changes from the two males to the face of Nagare.

 

“I'm still searching”, she lied, “It's going to take me a longer time to find them with the limitations on my abilities”

 

“Just make sure you find them before Shigemi's agents do!”, he orders, before his image vanishes from the mirror's surface.

 

“Damn pushy bastard…”, she curses under her breath, as the image of the traveling-group reappears in her mirror, which causes a smile to form on her lips at how cozy Hisoka and Tsuzuki was, “Wings of Pitch-Black

Nurtured by hands untainted,

Restoring hope and instilling love

Where love once did not exist…”, she continued reciting.

 

`I might as well get moving, otherwise I won't catch up to them…', she mentally decides, making the mirror vanish into thin-air as she stands up and unfolds her white-wings, leaping from the branch she takes to the sky, `And everything would be for nothing', she thinks.

 

 

 

 

 

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