Gifted
Chapter 2: Kill the messenger
Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha. Duh.
Fingers slowly drummed on the table.
The feel of the wood along with the sound his fingers made at the contact seemed to help him focus. The room was well furnished with oak wood a rarity in this age, pronouncing to anyone that entered that he was a man of leisure. On a book case stood thousands of books, some to old to be remembered, all full of information on lands other then this one, lands unseen. This if anything it showed he had knowledge. The top of the walls were decorated with animals heads, only the rarest kind and all brought down by him. It was needless to say he was a hunter. Against the wall next to him stood a glass case, simple in appearance. Yet inside it held some of the worlds greatest artifacts, most obtained through criminal means. He liked his treasures. Out side his door he had a personal army waiting for his word, his signal to do well, just about anything without mercy or remorse. Oh yes, he was a leader.
His fingers continued to drum on the table.
Everything in this room had been picked for a purpose, and considering its effect on people who entered he would have to say it was quiet a success. One look at this room and they would know what kind of a man he was, no words needed.
A smirk slowly formed on a usually unreadable face.
This room said he was powerful, slightly greedy with very little conscience, and the knowledge and wealth to get away with it all. Oh, and this room was right. He was all that and a bit more. Just a bit though.
He had never been one to stop until he got what he wanted. He was determined like that, a family trait believe it or not. Yet his latest acquisition seemed to be slipping through his fingers, a feeling that he found himself repulsed by.
His hand clenched into a fist.
For four years he had been trying every angle he could think of to find a trace of it. He had been bribing museum workers, stealing from history collectors, tracing and tracking the phone calls and live of some of his greatest competition. He had been torturing the truth from explorers, demolition villages that might have been it burial sight, and slaughtering those that had gotten in his way.
For four years.
What did he have to show for his troubles? His hard work and money? For the years off his life?
Nothing.
His nails began to dig into his palms, breaking the skin.
Not a damn thing.
Blood began to drip from his hand to the table. The sound filling the rooms silence.
Four fucking years…
Someone knocked at his door. Letting the blood continue to fall he unclenched his hand and laid it on the desk, putting on display for his visitor. He loved it when they flinched.
"Come in."
The familiar figure of Mr. Howard came in, his glasses shining in the light. His thin frame dressed in a large white coat, his head bowing in respect. Looking up at him, Naraku saw the exact moment when Mr. Howard noticed the blood. Watched him pause, mouth open like a gasping fish, trying to figure out what to say.
" How can I help you Mr. Howard."
At hearing his name, the older man flinched slightly, his eyes never leaving Naraku's hand. Naraku could almost see his little brain working through the possibilities that it was someone else's blood. Ah, the little people. They are what made his days worth while.
"Uh...um..r-right, so I am here to ask you what you would like us to do now that she uh, didn't seen anything from the pen. Well…I mean, she saw things, but not what we were looking for, of course. Of, course she would see things, it her job to see things. You wouldn't keep her if she didn't see things…"
Naraku watched the man trip over his words, unblinking. That pen had been so promising. He had quiet enjoyed the show that she had unknowingly put on for him regardless of this dead end. He watched as the Mr. Howard continued to babble, not really paying attention to the man, his thoughts wondering else where.
What was he going to do with that girl? His eyes moving to look past the bubbling man in his office to the mirror that hung on the wall. With the press of a button under his desk the mirror would light up and show him her.
His little map.
His little failing map.
She continued to see nothing of importance making her value drop substantially in his eyes. Over the years he had brought her thousands of pieces of history only to have them all turned down as useless by her. It was, needless to say, frustrating.
He looked down at the pool of blood now forming in his hand.
Killing her was an option. It would just be one more body to get rid of in the end. He knew it made no sense to kill the messenger but it would make him feel a lot better.
Still after all the work and planning he had put into acquiring her.
It had in fact taken months to find her, even with his advanced spy network. Her family had been dedicated to keeping her secret. After finding her, the real work had begun about how to get to her.
Sure he could have just gone in with him men and slaughtered the place, but that would be another messy cleans up leaving him to deal with cops and the media. So instead he had cut them off and broke them down. Sure it cost more, but secrecy of it, made it all pay off.
He had made the father loose his job suddenly forcing the mother to work.
She had died a month later from a work 'accident.' At the lose of his wife the girls father had gone into a depression and his youngest son was suddenly hit by a car, it became to much for him to bare. A week later he took his own life. With the help of some drugs slipped into his food by Naraku's men.
That left little Kagome. Fifteen at the time, now all alone in the world with no relatives to speak of except, of course, for a distance wealthy uncle. Who would have thought him, an uncle.
Just like that she legally belonged to him. The whole thing was written off as yet another family tragedy. The media had actually given him an award for being such a kind man and taking her in. They had called him generous. The irony of it didn't escape him.
Now four years later she was failing.
Still…
He never was one to waste. He knew without a doubt that he would regret it later, and regrets were something he couldn't afford. Her gift was a once in a lifetime treat. He would have to take his anger and disappointment out somewhere else.
Mr. Howard was still talking, Naraku mused. Looking at the older man, he fought not to snort. The man considered himself a doctor and told the girl as often as possible. He was very aware of Mr. Howard's feelings toward the girl, as was everyone. He had even caught him sneaking into her room once or twice. What he did to her was of no matter to him though as long as she continued to see into things.
Which, from what he saw yesterday, would not be very long. Insanity was a funny thing. Such a gift coupled with such a curse.
"I want you to make sure that she didn't see anything." Naraku cut in. His meaning was clear enough. Though he doubted the girl would lie It was not a risk he was willing to take, even after all of their time together.
"Right, of course." He could almost see Mr. Howard's eye lighting up. "I'll get started on that right away." Turning for the door.
"Mr. Howard." Naraku's call gave him pause, as he turned to look at his master, one hand still firmly on the door. That subtle action amused Naraku. Like he would escape alive.
"Then pen was a lead found by you. Now that it proves useless it would be a shame if you were found the same." He paused letting his word sink into the shivering man.
"I don't like to be disappointed. Make sure that this doesn't happen again. It would be a shame to… lose you."
Meeting the mans wide eye's he nodded his head allowing him to leave.
Maybe he would get the bloodshed he wanted after all. He looked down at his bloody hand.
The day was looking up.
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Mr. Howard closed the door quickly behind him, his heart racing at his masters calm words. Feeling his sweat soaking through his shirt he fought the urge to undo his top button. The ominous feeling he had before entering the room had been right. He was a dead man walking.
A frantic voice went off in his head. 'What was he going to do know?!?'
His eyes darted from left to right as if searching for an answer written on the wall.
Millions of useless options raced through his head. He could run. He could try to disappear. Erase his existence from the world. Find some hole to crawl in. Out of habit he brushed his remaining hair back. This job was making his hair fall out.
Damit! Damit! Damit!
Suddenly a thought hit him. He could make it up! Find some way to make his master happy again, put himself back into the good light. There had to be something he could do! Rubbing his sweating palms on his pants, his mind continued to race, going through all the sources he had.
There were his sources in Singapore. No, they had checked in a week ago with nothing to report. Umm… His source in Thailand! With a snap he opened his phone. After fifteen minuets of talking he accepted that nothing was there and moved on to his next source. Then the next.
Yet as the minuets ticked on and he could find nothing, the distinct feeling of fear began to crawl into him again. He could almost see his survival rate dropping. There was no way he would make it to the end of the week.
For the first time in his whole life he found himself turning to god. Not a man of religion, because in truth he had found people who prayed pathetic, he feebly hoped that there had to be some truth there. Come on! There had to be some reason so many people went to church.
He paused for a second, unsure of how to go about this. Then, taking a once over of the hall way to make sure no one was watching, clasped his hands together in front of him and lifted his eyes skyward, like in the movies. Yet instead of a view of the sky, his eye crashed into the view of the pipelines.
Did it matter that he couldn't see the sky? Was that important?
It didn't matter and he didn't have time for that right now. So eye's still lifted skyward he began to pray and bargain. Maybe god was down for a trade.
If, he could just live, a…good while longer, he would quit drinking and look a dirty magazines only four times a week. When no holy light shinned down on him, he up'd his offer. He would only look at his dirty magazines twice a week. What more could god expect!
Still nothing. No glimpse of holy salvation.
His eyes narrowed as he looked around. Should have known better then to pray. Like any good would come of it. His hands began to clench into fists as he stormed down the hallway. Walking through the tunnels he paused when he came to a steel door with a armed man standing in front of it.
Fear was quickly replaced by anger.
This was her fault. His blood now rushing with adrenaline. Why should he have to take the fall for her not being able to see anything?!? She was probably lying! Trying to get him killed off.
He quickly walked past the guard, nodding a greeting.
After all, his master had said to make sure she was telling the truth.
A sadistic grin began to form on his face. If he was going to die soon he was going to go with all the…fond memories he could get from this girl.
Bracing himself before entering he took a deep breath. He couldn't kill her yet. That would be an even sooner death and he could still find away to save himself. But he was going to make damn sure that if he died, she would remember him. That she would have nightmares about him and scream out in the middle of the night.
His hand clenched the door knob. He couldn't kill her just yet, he reminded himself one more time. But if his time was running out, then he would make damn sure hers was too.
Slowly he opened the door and walked into the room. The light reveling a figure huddled in the farthest corner.
"Hello my dear. Just you and me this time."
The doctors smile grew wider and she shivered.
He closed the door behind him.
Her entire being went still. Not a hair on her head moved, eyes widening in fear.
The tap of his footsteps echoed off the walls making his approach seem like thousands rather then one. An army bent on her pain. Her destruction.
An eerie yet familiar tune began to fill the air causing the hairs on her arms to stand on end. Her eyes darted left and right uselessly trying to find an exit.
The doctor continued to approach her humming a song in the back of his throat.
"Can you hear it my dear?" he questioned before resuming his song. No, their song. This is have it started. How it had always started. Her body still refused to move, ignoring her command to try, to run. Telling her that she had tried before and had failed, each and every time.
A form that haunted her dreams crouched in front of her a hand width away. His humming being replaced by whispered words.
"I could stay awake, just to hear you breathing."
His hand reached out slowly.
"Watch you smile while you are sleeping."
Her lungs froze while her mind shut down at the knowledge of the terror that was approaching. A shiver fought its way across her frozen skin, as his voice took on a huskier tone, he continued to sing under breath. The out reached hand began to run through the hair covering her face. Centimeters from her skin, close enough to feel his heat.
"While your far away and dreaming."
It continued to comb down her hair, brushing through the occasional knots. Still not making contact with her skin. His eye's behind his glasses followed its movement as if in a trance. Kagome kept her gaze on his face, no willing to look at the hands that almost, just barely touched her.
"I could spend my life…in this sweet surrender."
A gentle tug on her ends made her head tilt down at the same time his hand made its way up her face again, getting closer and closer still. She knew what was going to happen, this routine had carved its self into her mind. Despite that, she had no control over a nerve in her body, every part of her frozen in terror.
" I could stay lost in the moment."
His eyes flew up to meet hers.
"Forever."
To an outsides it would look at like to good doctor had simply tucked a stray hair behind her ear but to Kagome it was much more. So much more.
In that brief moment of contact, his finger tips simply grazing the skin on her check, her mind was flooded.
It was all there. Everything he was, all him memories of watching her. She saw herself through his eyes. Felt his lust for her. His obsession with her.
His personal fantasies began to rush her mind. Everything that he wanted to do to her. How he wanted to do things to her, all kinds of terrible, nasty things that made her choke back vomit. She could feel them. Each and every thought.
She kept telling herself it wasn't real. It was all in her head she chanted. All in her head. Everything she was experiencing- wasn't real. Physically she was untouched. Clean. A little voice in the back of her head cried out. What did it matter if it wasn't don't physically if it was all there in her head. Burned into her memory.
It was just a sick torture method used countless times to lure out information they wanted from her when she didn't have it.
She had told the truth!
She always told the truth, no matter how bad it was, even though she knew it would lead to this. When had she ever lied! She wanted to yell out. When! She had known that the punishment for being caught lying would have be worse. She knew all about worse.
She continued her chant.
It's wasn't real.
She should have been used to it. But she wasn't. Spots clouded her vision as the horrid sung continued to play in her mind lurching her unwilling into a nightmare that would always haunt her. It didn't matter anymore that none of it was real, because in her mind, his hands felt like sandpaper on her body and the rough thrusts she felt were too painful to be denied.
She wanted to die.
His thoughts followed shortly after the images.
How he loved to hear her scream. Wouldn't she scream for him? Just a little one. His desire crawled under her skin making her want to scratch herself until she bled. Until she emptied herself of his thoughts. Her heartbeat was like a drum in her ears.
She heard a sharp crack. Her skull hitting the wall behind her, in a failed attempt to jerk away from his hand.
Slowly her eye's opened to meet his smiling face.
His other hand began to crawl forward, his smile stretching to an unfathomable length showing straight white teeth.
All sound stopped except for her own heartbeat.
No. She wanted him to die.
A rage filled her causing her vision to blur. A foreign feeling that she had thought had been beaten out of her years ago.
Her hand whipped out, dragging her cracked and jagged nails across his cheek tearing the skin, leaving five trails of blood in its wake. With a cry he scrambled back both hands covering his now bleeding face.
"You stupid bitch!"
He was suddenly standing before her, hands clenched to has side causing the blood to flow freely. It ran down his neck. He grabbed her shoulders, his hands shaking with loss of control, and threw her against the wall.
Kagome gasped for air as her breath was knocked out of her on impact. A fleeting thought crossed her mind.
She was going to die.
Before she could move to sit up his foot smashed into her ribs. Again and again. His hard breathing filled her room, as each kick caused her body to smash against the wall. With the last of her strength she attempted to curl into a ball, only so have him bend over and smash his fist into her face repeatedly. With each hit her mind swallowed his rage.
He was going to kill her. He planned on it.
For what seemed like forever the only sounds that filled the room were his panting breaths, and contact of his foot hitting her.
It wasn't until a hand grabbed his shoulder that the doctor realized that someone hand been banging on the door.
He struggled to compose himself as one of his underlings took a few steps away from his, giving him room to breath. Slowly he straightened.
"What is so important that you felt it necessary to interrupt my interrogation of the prisoner?
The other man fidgeted looking down at the still form of the girl.
"I have information sir! We may have found the location of the necklace that originally held the jewel."
At his words Mr. Howard felt his heart began to race. Without looking back at the girl curled up on the floor he quickly made his way across the room asking his underling for more information.
He was saved.
Maybe there was a god.
The door closed leaving Kagome once again in the dark. Her shallow breathing was barely audible as her mind began to shut down in an attempt to save her from the pain.
A small grin made its way to her bloody lips as darkness rushed her.
Maybe she wouldn't have to touch another cursed artifact aver again.
Just maybe.
The world went dark.
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Inuyasha stared at the henchmen surrounding him.
The day had stared off on such a promising note.
He had woken up from the first full night of sleep he had been able to get in months. Usually his dreams were full of dread, his mind stressed over his lost family jewel, and his soul weighed down from Kikyo's betrayal. Yet that night he had dreamed of nothing but stars.
A sky full of them.
The dream had left him with a great sense of peace that had him greeting Miroku with a friendly node that morning. He had ignored his friends dramatic reaction, as Miroku had gasped at the nod and reached to feel his forehead.
The hand never made contact as it was smacked away.
Just because he felt a bit better then usual didn't mean he was down for this whole touchy feely shit.
He wasn't that guy.
Besides that one incident the day had progressed without flaw. He had even begun to think that his luck was changing for the better. He eyed the ninja in front of him.
Luck liked to fuck with him like that.
The sound of Miroku clearing his throat dragged him back to the situation in front of him. It appeared that they were being robbed.
Two black covered ninja's held the man he would refer to as his best friend after a couple drinks, one of them smacking him over the head at his mild cough. His face was bloody from a split lip and only one eye looked up at him, the other was swollen shut.
Forcefully robbed.
A circle of nine ninja's surrounded him, three around Miroku. Yet the only thing really stopping him from going all kinds of Matrix on these wannabe's was yes, Miroku. He wondered it they knew.
Well more like Miroku's ever-sucking whirlwind of a hand, that was pointed at him with the help of the three ninja's of course. At this close range he would have a second to even breathe his last breath of clean air before being swallowed. Then who knows where he would be.
At best he would die.
At worst…
He would be stuck in his perverted friend, and god only knew what was going on inside him. He gave that a second thought. It would probably be clean at least. His friend kept a mean house, trading secrets… among other the local housewives.
He didn't even want to think about it.
Who would have thought that one of his greatest secret weapons in battle wasn't so secret after all. It wasn't like finding a cursed monk was a damn ordinary thing.
Someone had squealed.
He would have to deal with that later. A man made his way past the other blank spandex covered humans holding a struggling Miroku before stopping just out side inuyasha's ring of them. It was obvious he thought his nine little slinky toys were going to be able to stop him. Inuyasha would prove how wrong that was later.
They studied each other, each with a different purpose in mind.
Inuyasha's was simple.
He was going to memorize the face of the fucker so the he could track him down and cut him into little itty bitty pieces after this was all over. That was going to be easy though considering the healing cuts covering the guys face.
A smirk spread across his lips.
"You get attacked by your kitty?" he taunted, enjoying the fuckers reaction to his words.
At once his eye's had narrowed as one hand reached to cover the deep scratch, sunlight flashing off his glasses. Not a hair on his head moved, as the wind die down.
Anger radiated off the fucker making Inuyasha positive that the scratch had not from a cat at all. His smirk got wider.
"Or can you just not control your wench." Silence was all the answer he needed.
"Doesn't look like she likes your company very much, but then again what women would."
As the old fucker inhaled quickly Inuyasha knew he had struck a cord, yet the other mans words wiped the smirk off his face.
"I see you wear her necklace."
He heard Miroku wince from where the spandex slinky's held him, but never took his eye's off the dead fucker in front of him. His stance shifted causing the slinky's around him to move in response. Their weariness was heavy in the air. He cold almost taste it.
Yet the dead fucker seemed calm and confident which only enraged him further.
This day was defiantly going to pot.
The dead fucker adjusted his glasses and leaned in slightly still not passing the ring the ninja's had formed making Inuyasha feel like an animal on display. How had this…this...his mind searched for a word, fucker, found out about Kikyo's necklace? Yet another more important question hit him mind. What did these people want with it?
As far as he knew the necklace carried no power and had simply been a way of keeping the jewel on at all times for whoever happened to be wielding it. It was just a silver chain.
"Bring the priest over here." Mr. Dead fucker said a small smile forming on his lips as if Christmas had come early. Inuyasha watched as Miroku was brought closer and closer still, his arm and hand being held by the Ninja's around him.
He watched as his friend made another attempt to escape only to have the slinky on his right side of him kick his knee in causing a loud CRACK to split the air. Miroku gave out a low moan as he collapsed, only to be held up by the dead fuckers men.
Yep, today was circling the drain.
A smalls 'tsk,' from the small man, before he turned his attention back to inuyasha who was practically growling.
"Now that we got that out of the way," the scrawny dead fucker gave Miroku another once over making sure, "I am here to remove a certain item from your persons."
When Inuyasha didn't move, the idiotic, scrawny, dead fucker nodded to the slinky closest to him. The ninja stepped out the circle, and coming to halt in front of him, his hands stretched out.
The fucker spoke. "Give me the necklace and you can live," when he didn't get a respond he nodded to his men holding Miroku.
"Don't and die by your friends own hand."
The growl that escaped Inuyasha's throat didn't go unnoticed by the slinky's but despite the tension they all watch as he slowly removed the necklace from his neck and placed it into the ninja's hands.
Inuyasha then watched as the ninja backed out of the circle and placed the necklace in his bosses shaking hands. The older man held the chain with his finger tips, as if afraid of getting it dirty and pulled a velvet bag out of his pocket. After placing the chain away and sliding it into his pocket he nodded to his men.
"Thank you for your cooperation."
Slowly he turned and began to walk away in a quick pace, only to pause at the dog demons yell.
"What the hell you going to do with that stupid chain anyways!"
"Something you apparently couldn't."
With those words he disappeared down the stair that had led to the roof of the building. That left him, Miroku and the mall army of karate masters on the roof. The air itself seemed to stop moving as each waited for the other to make the first move.
Miroku's gasping words hit inuyasha as his friend tried to speak despite the pain he was obviously in.
"Sorr-sorry I g-got caught by these-these flexible l-l-little assholes." His words earned him a swift kick to his ribs, which only led the monk to let out a little chuckle. Another kick landed. Inuyasha joined the monk laughing.
Hopefully these guys hadn't done their homework.
"How far to your think you have to bend these guys for them to break?" He asked.
"Bet that black spandex rides up their ass…bet they like it." Miroku called back.
They both proceeded to insult the ninja's Inuyasha waiting for the blow that would land them some luck. Soon each shook with anger earning Miroku more then a few kicks and an occasional punch. Still it wasn't enough. At this point Miroku was coughing put blood, spitting it onto the roof. He was going to be sore tomorrow.
It was going to have to pull out the big guns to break these guys down.
Ninja training had apparently covered control.
"You know I think they always wear these outfits, probably makes them feel cool."
"Did you guys go out and buy them all together to coordinate?"
"The ninja's outlet. I am going to have to look for it next time I'm in Japan."
A ninja from behind Miroku suddenly seemed to loose control and punched his harder then he thought in the back of the head, causing him to pass out. His head dangled inches from the floor as the remaining ninja's still held the monks hand towards him.
Apparently hadn't done their homework.
Inuyasha began to smile as his nails grew and thickened.
"You shouldn't have done that." He all but sang to the men around him, now all posed and read to fight. In a flash he grabbed the closest one by the throat holding him a good foot of the ground yet still watching the ninja's surrounding his friend.
As predicted at his motion they had ripped the sacred beads off his friends hand, only to stare at the hole in shock. He could almost hear the question racing through their minds. Where was the sucking whirlwind? The fear the began to radiate off them all made Inuyasha smirk.
He had learned long ago the only time Miroku's hand stopped was when he was knocked out or asleep. It was how his friend got work done on his hand after a serious battle, though he usually preferred to be knocked out by wine or sleeping pills rather a punch to the back of the head.
But hey, it was what the situation called for.
"Now there is nothing to stop me from killing you. All of you."
The next time Inuyasha moved three ninja's dropped dead, their stomachs pouring out of the them.
This was going to take a moment but as soon as he was done and the monk regained conciseness he was going to have a chain to collect and a fucker to kill. He sniffed the air finding the fuckers scent.
There was no wind today.
Maybe luck liked him after all.
