Beautiful Tragedy

Chapter I: Prologue

A/N: Yo, yo, yo! Okay... well, uuh. This is an attempt at another good story. Well, I've been watching many romance movies lately... (blame my mother) and read a bundle of great books. I've also received quite a few reviews for my story 'Another Word for Desperate' which, unfortunately, I do not think I will be continuing. The only reason is because I have completely forgotten any possible inspiration I had for that story. So, for my fans... (if any) here is an exchange. New story for old one. I hope this turns out well. :

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha...


Heavy rain pattered mutedly against glass so grimy it could have been perceived as oppressing. Shaded amber orbs scanned the expanse of the retrograding chamber with dull weariness as the owner sighed solemnly. He sat unmoving on a large, sophisticated chair and listened to the steady rhythmn of the cleansing rain. He hadn't felt the rain on his flesh in decades...

Silently, his brilliantly colored eyes continued to pass over the decrepit area he was situated in, taking in the minor details that had already been boldly imprinted in the depths of his immortal memory. Mahogany furniture adorned with sweeping, elegant furnishings. Drapings spun of the finest velvet and smoothest silk. He gazed soundlessly at the once resplendent glasses and trinkets, now chipped and untouched. The canvases and portraits hung around the room could no longer mirror the glamour that they used to possess. Now most of them were either faced against the walls or covered by sheets of once white cloths.Splendor had transformed into sadness in the magnificent home.

A half stifled yawn escaped the solitary recipient's lips as he observed with mild interest as a large, obsidian spider made its way daintily down a shimmering silk strand of web. He traced the path of that spider as it advanced onto a breathtaking antique bedspread. The sight of the homely arachnid on the crushed velvet was one that he had grown callused to. The beauty of antiquety and history no longer intrigued him. No, he had lost all interest in such petty things as grace and perfection long ago.

'How much longer must I remain in this forsaken place...'

Impassively, he combed his long, slender fingers through the lenght of his silvery hair. A few of the loose strands caught the thin trickle of light that danced trough the grime-streaked windows, and reflected a fleeting glimmer onto a venerable wall. The makeshift pulchritude seemed foreign in the dark, dusty room. It was a relief from the monochromatic death that plagued the chamber.

However, the alleviation of the delicate mirage ended abruptly as the limber male leaped backwards impulsively. A nearly inaudible growl escaped his pale throat and his long eyes narrowed in rememberance of a deceptive past.

'Damn that detestable wench...'

After a brief hesitation, the mysterious male composed himself and sat down again, though this time, on a different chair. He was now seated in the darkest corner of the neglected chamber. His golden oculars watched the softly streaming light warily. The peaceful sound of the desolate rain never ceased, and all about him, the atmosphere spoke of tranquility and secretive silence.

On the outside, he allowed his body to relax minutely, but within his intricate mind, memories twirled and teased him. Wisps of dreams, dissipated in a vague reality. A memoir of the loveliest creature he had ever been blessed to encounter... and the nightmare of her betrayal.

Amber eyes trailed down thoughtfully at the pallid contour of his slim wrist. Nostalgia swept through his system as they settled on the violet markings that were printed eternally onto his flesh. A reminder of his lost humanity. No longer could he laugh freely, love ardently, or live fully... he was cursed. Cursed in every sense of the word.

The stripes were not the only insignia of his dissolution. In addition, each of his fingers were topped by a formidable claw, capable of bringing any creature to its knees with a single swipe. His strenght had intensified ten-fold, and his eyesight was incredibly keen. But his most malignant weapons by far were his elongated canines. Any creature that was unfortunate to meet that end would be one to be pitied indeed.

But the unequivocal emblem of his conversion was the deep navy mark on his forehead. Stark in contrast to his irridescent skin, the azure crescent moon was situated perfectly beneath his breezy bangs, so that the world could see its sinister warning. He was a creature of the night... a child of the moon.

The bitter memories threatened to consume the young male. Fluidly, he rose from the corner in which he had settled and strode to a nearby table with engraved designs bordering the dull wood. Hesitantly, he pulled a delicate object from underneath a worn cloth. The tarnished silver handle and frame were admirable, and any goldsmith would be envious of the craftsmanship. But the furtive male was not interested in the skillful framing of the object, but rather the center.

The center of the aforementioned object was cracked into several large shards of glass upon which an ethereal visage stared forlornly back at him. The man stared at his own image, at the angular, but insubstantial contours. Every aspect of the inhuman face was entrancing and beautiful. Still, he had lost all interest in such petty things as grace and perfection long ago... only because he was grace and perfection. And yet... the most alluring feature was the complexity swirling in the depths of his eyes. A beautiful tragedy...


A/N: Okay guys. Well.. it's not much. But hopefully you enjoyed it. I know I had fun writing it.Oh yeah, and some things might not really make sensenow.. .but they will in good time.haha. Well, if you wish me to continue with this, please, please, PLEASE: reviews, criticism, suggestions. Anything. Leave a review!