Date Written: 7/14/05
Non Challenge
Word Count: 560
Warnings: Spoilers for the movie. Definately M
Notes: Just what exactally was Dougan doing with the Sanzo party shikigami behind closed doors? And why am I so dark lately?
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To Dougan, Genjo Sanzo was like a porcelain doll--you look at it, keep it up on your mantle, admire its beauty, but never touch it. For some reason, the young monk-in-training realized that the high priest was capable of breaking.
Why he allowed that-- that-- that... rough, annoying, STUPID monkey to accompany him where ever he went was beyond him.
In the end, the monkey would break his porcelain doll.
That's why he had to kill them all, before the doll shattered. He had decided that long before he left to train.
He had trained to destroy the three strongest people Sanzo had surrounded himself with.
When his doll had refused to play nice, when he had left the priest behind at the temple in Chang'an, the young man had lost it.
If his doll wanted to play with those rough people, he would be the one to break the doll.
After many failed experiments, he finally created the perfect Sanzo shikigami. In Dougan's head, whenever he looked at it, he could hear Sanzo's gruff voice yelling at someone, or smell his scent--gunpowder and tobacco. The doll was flawless, and he never touched it in a careless manner.
The others he abused. Sometimes he would strike and cut and burn them so much all that remained would be a scrap of orange origami paper. He enjoyed making his Gojyo and Hakkai and especially his Goku doll do menial labor and abuse them. They were the perfect prisioners, crying out and begging for mercy at just the right moments.
And why wouldn't they? Their Master had made them that way.
One night, after indulging in too much fine wine, Dougan decided to see how realistic his Sanzo doll really was. The blonde shikigami was standing in the corner, violet eyes glowing with an artificial life.
The human-turned-demon walked over to it, brushing his fingertips over the skin on its cheek. He felt real, soft and warm to the touch.
Dougan licked his lips, and so did his shikigami. He rubbed his thumb over pale pink lips, wiping away a drop of moisture. So real, so lifelike...
Before he realized what was happening he was kissing the doll hungrily, the shikigami pressed back against the wall, responding in kind. He tasted human, not like the dirt he had been created out of.
Clothes were stripped from flesh. Dougan's claws dug into flesh, and he watched, amazed, as dark brown blood oozed from the wound, drying into dirt and falling off pale skin in granules. A delicate lick, and the blood actually tasted coppery, not gritty, and the skin was salty with sweat.
The redhead had the shikigami on the long mahogany table, reveling in the unexpected wetness, warmth, and tightness of his doll.
So very, very human...
---
Wu
Han shuttered again under a steaming shower, scrubbing at her naked
flesh furiously. Thank the gods that sick bastard found her repulsive.
For once, she was grateful to be a half-breed, even if she was, in a
sense, dead. After witnessing that man doing such a gross thing to a
shikigami, she had vomited all the way back to her room, feeling
unclean. Her skin was raw and on the verge of bleeding, but she didn't
care. She couldn't feel physical pain anymore anyway.
And she was the demon?
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