A/N: So. Been a while since I've posted a HoroRen fic, but then I decided to start writing this and before long I discovered I'd written 10 pages, so I guess I might as well post it to give myself motivation to keep going.
As mentioned in the summary, yes, this story is the sequel to my Ren-centric one-shot, "Demon Child." Therefore, I strongly recommend you read that first before even beginning this, otherwise you won't understand a lot of it.
As also mentioned in the summary, this story contains yaoi content. Now this does not necessarily mean yaoi between Horohoro and Ren—their relationship is shounen-ai, as far as that goes. The yaoi warning is for a rape in later chapters. But we'll get to that eventually.
Err, I think that's all. First chapter is from the POV of the demon, but that'll shift in the next chapter. Enjoy!
As always, reviews are welcome and flames are ignored.
Disclaimer: I don't own Shaman King.
LULLABY: CHAPTER I
He had done it. It had only been a small opening, a tiny rift from a faulty summoning, but he had been alert. And that was why he had been able to escape—he, a man-demon who could think and act unlike the lesser animal demons that had surrounded him all his life. He, a demon above all demons, who had no equal. He, Krast, the first demon ever to escape from the fiery depths of Hell. And now he was going to have some fun in this human world.
He walked slowly down the lonely road, looking from side to side and sniffing at the air. His dark red eyes flashed, taking in everything—for even though there was no moon and all was pitch black around him, he could see everything. Hell was dark, and so the demons had adapted.
Where was this place? He did not know much of the geography of the upper ground, but already he liked the climate of this place. His thoughts wandered back to something one of his friends who had been summoned to the surface and returned had once told him: These humans are strong in mind but weak in body. Very fragile and easy to break. Great for sex if you're ever bored.
He laughed openly at this. That was a theory certainly worth trying out.
From far away his demon ears detected a soft sound, and he stopped his movement, turning his head slightly and listening intently. There—a footstep, light, young. He spun slowly, pinpointing the direction of the sound with his ears, and before long saw a dark figure round the nearby corner.
Immediately Krast was struck by the appearance of this human. He had spiked, light blue hair such as the demon had never seen before, and piercing black eyes that seemed to take in all the light around them and banish them into the dark abyss within. His hair was rather long and barely kept under control by a dark bandanna-like cloth tied around his forehead, and he wore a simple white T-shirt and a pair of short jeans that displayed much of his lithe and well-toned body. He walked with a carefree air, yet he constantly peered into the darkness as if he was having trouble seeing, which did not surprise Krast. Humans were weak, after all.
The human stepped into a small pool of light created by a single streetlamp, and Krast saw his face clearly for the first time and was immediately struck by its beauty. In all his long years in Hell he had never glimpsed many humans, and this one by far was the best of the flock, and all of a sudden he felt himself turn hot with lust. He wanted this human. Now.
He was across the street in an eyeblink, coming to a stop directly in front of the human, causing him to give a cry of surprise at his sudden appearance and stumble back a bit. The demon tried his most arresting smile and bowed low. "I am Krast," he said. "And what might your name be?"
The human blinked in confusion and did not reply. Suddenly Krast realized that he had been speaking in the demon language, and quickly shifted to the first human language he could think of. However, the human still did not respond to the question, and so Krast with a frown continued switching tongues until finally he hit an Eastern dialect whose name he faintly remembered was Japanese, whereas the human brightened and instantly answered in kind.
"Horohoro," he said with a cheerful smile. "You sure know a lot of languages, Krast-san."
"Thank you," Krast answered, and said no more as he got his first close look at Horohoro's eyes. He had the most beautiful eyes, black as the deepest shadows of Hell itself, mysterious as the dark night sky above them.
"You have very beautiful eyes," he said.
Horohoro seemed surprised and slightly confused at the comment. "Um, thanks," he said with a shrug. "I got them from my dad." He paused. "Er…is there anything I can help you with, Krast-san?"
"Just keep talking to me," Krast answered, taking a step toward the human. "I love your voice. It is very beautiful, just like you."
Horohoro frowned and slowly took a step back. "I—uh—I'm flattered, Krast-san, really," he said, his eyes flickering uncertainly up to the demon's red eyes and then all over his huge form. "It's nice that you think that, but…um…gee, sorry, I gotta go!" He turned to run but Krast leaped forward, covering the distance between them in an eyeblink, seizing the small human by the shoulders, digging his demon claws into the soft skin. Horohoro cried out in pain. "Agh—let go of me!"
"Horohoro," Krast said slowly, allowing the name to flow off of his tongue like sweet molasses. "What a beautiful name. Beautiful eyes, a beautiful voice…such a perfect human." He brought one hand up, blood evident on the sharp claws, and forcefully seized Horohoro's chin, tilting his face up so that deep red eyes met frightened black ones. "So beautiful," he said, and smiled when he saw the blood on his fingers. "Yet so fragile. I will try not to break you."
"No!" Horohoro screamed, struggling furiously. "Get your hands off me, you fucking rapist! Get off!"
His cries only served to elevate the fiery hunger already burning in Krast's gut, and bending down, the demon slowly dragged his tongue across the human's cheek, causing Horohoro to cry out and squirm beneath him. "Oh, I want you, Horohoro," he said. "I have never had a human so beautiful before." He wrapped his arms firmly around the human, raking his claws across Horohoro's back, drawing out another agonized cry. "Yes," he hissed in the frightened human's ear. "Scream for me, Horohoro. Scream…"
"Like hell I will—Kororo!" All of a sudden there was a flash of white and then it was Krast screaming, falling backward as the cold ice bit into his hot demon skin. From far away he heard a soft cry as Horohoro hit the sidewalk hard before the human scrambled to his feet, holding what appeared to be a short length of wood carved with intricate designs. Blinking away the ice that clung to his lids, Krast snarled when he saw the tiny figure hovering next to the human: she was a spirit, one who wandered the upper ground, enemy of the demon. Krast knew enough about humans to know that only a few in the world were able to control such spirits, and apparently Horohoro was one of them.
Very slowly, the human raised his wooden weapon, his breath hitching as he tried to suppress his previous fear. "D-Don't ever touch me again," he said, struggling to steady his voice.
Krast growled again, pulling himself slowly to his feet. He heard the sound of retreating footsteps, and looking up, saw that he was alone in the street. Instantly he let his breath hiss out through his fangs in disappointment and fury. So Horohoro was a shaman, was he? No matter. He would still have his human, no matter what the cost.