Pain…

Agony…

Anguish…

I felt the familiar torment crawling through my aching limbs and bones, like a living creature treading over already well-worn paths. Why wouldn't end? I felt a shudder pass through my spine and a low whimper escaped my chapped lips. There was so much of it… never ending just increasing week by week. Maybe even that would be bearable if it weren't for the hatred, the loathing so intense I could smell it every time one of Them came to throw cold rice and chicken at me. And I could taste the disgust they harbored for me as they gazed at my shivering form.

Peering through the tangled mass of black I surveyed my prison of seven years. It was the same as always, a cold one roomed wood house with holes through the floor and the windows boarded up so I received no light. They kept me here because I was a Demon. I wasn't one of the fortunate ones that just had a Demon sealed within them- my untrimmed nails scraped over the rotting floor boards- my Demon was in fact myself. The things I could do, my own appearance, the color of my chakra, they were all signs of my Demonic visage.

And as such, breaking out of this pathetic hovel would be nothing- if that was all that was keeping my bound. Unfortunately the villagers had long ago solved the problem of chaining my 'unholy gifts from the devil' within my form.

My deep blue eyes flicked to the heavy iron shackles encasing my pale wrists. They were crudely made with jagged edges that still, after many years, tore my flesh but sturdy and unbreakable none the less. Symbols were carved into the treacherous bands that I suspected was a written language of some sort but since I had been confined to this place from the age of three I had never learned to- what They called- 'read'. But from experience I knew that the tags of sticky paper scribbled on with ink and slapped on the inner part of my shackles probably said something along the lines of 'bind' because when They came into the room for any purpose They would pause before the door I would see Their hands make a sign and hear them say that word. I hated Their visits probably more than They hated visiting me; the horror and terror of feeling my hands being chained to the ground and unable to do anything if one of Them decided to take Their angers and troubles in that day out on me. Every time They came I forced myself to keep my head down so they wouldn't see the glint of silver as the color of my eyes was leeched away by my anger to expose what They called my 'Eyes of Death'. Because if They saw the change in my eyes I'd be punished, I'd be dragged out by my hair and lashed to a post in the center of the village so the strongest warrior or hunter could beat me with an assortment of weapons until I passed out. Then I'd wake up back in my hut still bleeding from numerous wounds and biting my tongue until it too bled to keep myself from screaming my pain and rage. It would only take around a day of rest to heal but that they left me in filth and garbage, hoping- no- praying for my demise…

I felt my adrenaline spike just thinking about it and the color of my eyes start to bleed away.

Seven years, seven years in this place and I still had no hope of escaping and if what They said was true, I would live long past a regular humans time of death in this torture. There was no possible way I'd be able to keep living here for that long with my mind intact- perhaps I'd even transform into the Demon that felt nothing but anger and evil that they thought I was.

"Bind." My head jerked up just in time to see the shadow of someone standing in front of the door as my arms were pulled down so I was forced to bow. The door creaked open and a pair of footsteps entered.

"Another Warrior of the village has challenged you, Yasha." A rough voice grated out. "Come." It wasn't as if I was expected to obey, as I was chained to the floor, I merely stayed quiet and waited for the one of Them that had come into my holdings to untether me and grab my hair to lead me out of my dwellings as was the usual for this kind of event.

Without a pause the man reached down and shoved my head completely to the floor so I wouldn't be able to see the hand signs he made- They were very cautious with such things around me- then after a few seconds, when my hands were released he slammed my wrists together and spent another few seconds binding them. "Up." He spat. His hand closed over the matted tendrils at the nape of my neck and I smothered a whimper as I scrambled to keep up with his long stride. My feet passed over the threshold and then my ears were assaulted by excited mutterings and the sound of someone sharpening his weapon.

I inhaled deeply. It had been so long since I had been outside… so very long. Sunlight cut across my pupils and I hissed, flinching back and causing pain to ripple over my scalp as I was yanked along behind the man.

"The Yasha!" I heard people whispering.

"Disgusting!"

"Look at her clothes!"

"I hope Masaru beats her good!"

Miserably, I tilted my head so none of the onlookers could see my face. This Masaru would beat me, there was no 'hope' only imminent pain. Because that was how this game was created: the challenger only had to swipe the Demon once and they won- which they celebrated by beating me until at least half of my bones were broke or worse. I didn't stand a chance during these events. My hands were left shackled together, my powers bound, and I received no weapon to defend myself; it was a monthly occurrence for the village's morbid pleasure and an inescapable sentence of punishment for me.

I just wished I knew why I was being punished.

The grip on my hair tightened and before I knew it I was tossed up onto the risen platform I'd been on too many times I didn't want to count. I knew every ridge, my blood had been spilt on almost every inch, and my bones had been broken, joint by joint on its surface.

All too familiar with the procedure, I didn't even bother to get to my feet; if I did it would just give them another opportunity to shove me down.

Immediately a chant started up around me.

"Ma-saru!"

"Ma-saru!"

"Masaru!"

Heavy footfalls a few yards away signaled my new 'Conqueror' had arrived. I could only wonder what weapon he'd chosen for this occasion. Knives? An axe? Just an old hammer picked up from a shed? I'd experienced it all, cuts, bashes, everything that was known to injure and other things most people had no clue could inflict damage and in most instances wouldn't under normal circumstances. This event was anything but normal circumstance- well for me it was normal but I could guess that this wasn't normal in other villages, at least I hoped not.

"We are here today," the Elder's voice boomed out, "For the challenge between the Yasha who has plagued our village with evil for over seven years and Masura-" The crowd screamed their encouragement "-the brave warrior who wishes to prove himself by facing the Yasha's terrible powers of evil. Yasha," I cringed at the term, now converted to a name for me, "I bid you to stand and face your opponent who will soon be your Conqueror." The words rang hollowly within my ears, the meaning and formality dead from over use. I hesitantly pushed myself to standing and dared to raise my eyes to survey my opponent.

A tall full grown man with muscles upon muscles most likely acquired through hunting or building stood before me, eyes mocking and glinting with malice. A shudder hit my form as I calculated the damage I'd most likely receive. It had been a while since I'd been beaten by a mountain of a man like this- no doubt I'd be dizzy from the first punch.

"Masaru!" The Elder called, my eyes flicked to the old curled man from over the heads of the blood thirsty crowd. "You have seen the Yasha, and the Death within her eyes! Have you still the will to battle her?" Of course he did, it was fixed for him to win.

'Masaru' let out a rumbling laugh, "This evil is no match for the strength of our people which I wield with my hands! Let the Battle commence!" The gong sounded at his words and I tiredly looked over at him again. Another beating, a thousand more wounds. It was so pointless, I didn't even feel the hatred I once harbored every time I stepped into this pin- I would save the hatred for later, in the safety of my hut where it wouldn't be turned against me.

"ARG!" He bellowed, swinging up a hammer twice his size as he bulldozed towards me. My eyes widened. I had been ready to just let him beat me, but at that speed that shot would surely kill me. Horrified anew, I darted to the side just as his hammer hit the place I had stood and stone shattered into the air.

Why?

I leapt up onto one of the wood barriers erected around us and nimbly shot across the length as he struck out at me again and again, splintering wood and rock through the air like a mad man. The man was insane! His eyes held a crazed look in them, a rabid glint hungering for blood and death.

He hit again, this time right below me and I was sent sailing through the air onto the stone, feeling the jarring impact to the marrow of my bones. I never once made a sound, never once a shriek or cry- and I wouldn't, not even through the entire beating I would receive. I had screamed when I was younger, shouted curses and sobbed, yet that only seemed to feed their craving, wetting their appetite for more.

My palm smeared my blood across the hard surface of the ground and I barely rolled away in time, due to the uselessness of my hands, to escape a bone-crushing swing from my 'Conquerors' weapon. Stumbling hard to the side, ii fought to breath as my lungs strained and my body yearned for water. I was in no shape to be dodging attacks, my limbs were weak and my bones could be seen through my skin. Perhaps with the right nourishment I would've been able to fight even in my current state, but now…

Now I was fighting just to stay conscious and he hadn't even struck me yet.

"HIT HER!" I heard the people shouting.

"Crush her bones to dust!"

"TEACH HER WHY EVIL SHOULD NOT EXIST!"

I crouched panting as he came at me and couldn't even bring myself to move. What was the point anyways? He'd catch me eventually. Spill my blood eventually. Break my bones eventually. It was only a matter of time, time my body wouldn't last.

"ARG!" He screamed, arms coming up in an arching swing that would no doubt catch my shoulder and shatter it. I waited for impact. Watched as he brought the weapon down, lower and lower, already hearing the snapping of bones. The crowd's cries rose up in a sharp crescendo as they too predicted what was to come in scarce seconds.

But it never did.

Someone ducked in-between us a flash of bluish black and white and then the hammer was flying away towards the trees and an enraged Masaru stood there panting and glaring at a peculiar guy with half his face covered.

"Sorry, but I can't allow you to do that." The newcomer said. I gaped, who was this person who had saved me? And what was that headband over his eye? Before I could ask fatigue overwhelmed me and I collapsed wheezing in an exhausted heap. He glanced back at me then turned fully to Masaru. "Sasaki," Suddenly there was another person crouching in front of me "take care of the kid. There are some things I clearly need to sort out."

"Yes, Team Leader." My vision blurred so I couldn't make out many of the newest arrivals features but he reached down and touched my throat- which I jumped at- before frowning and turning his head back to the other one. "I need to move her; she needs to be treated for malnourishment, dehydration and most likely other- worse- problems."

"Take her to the camp then, we'll patch her up best we can and take her back to the village."

Black was closing in on me from all sides, I'd never felt so weak before. How long had it been since they'd delivered food? Water? I had approximated a week but I could never tell with their being no sun light to go by in my hut.

The last thing I heard was the Elder shouting for the release of the Yasha.