"We do not converse with humans," the women had said. Giru's composure faltered, and his eyebrows signified his anger. "Then why are you talking to me? I'm fucking human, I just ate a devil fruit is all."
The women looked at each other, then at Giru again. "Others shall explain. We merely brought you here. Please come onto land." They asked in unison. He was reluctant, and wanted an answer immediately, but it seemed that wasn't an option. "Fine. We'll come ashore. I won't come unless my crew does too."
The women nodded, then jumped off the side of the ship onto land, waiting for the crew to do so as well All four did, some in different ways than others. The women began walking inland, and the crew followed suit.
On previous islands, the people would gawk in awe at the sight of Giru, but this time was different. Everybody on the island looked at Giru as if he was a celebrity come to visit, but looked with contempt, disgust, and even hatred at the three following him. They huddled close behind him as the walking continued, unsure of what would happen if they were to lag too far behind Giru.
"You never answered the question. Why did you drag my ship here?"
The women still spoke in perfect unison, "We detected you among humans. We were worried that you had been captured, or possibly imprisoned. We hold those of your kind in high regard."
Giru wanted to protest the last sentence, but he knew it was futile. "What do you mean my kind?"
"The unholy."
Giru balled his fists. He wasn't a real demon. He just ate a fruit. Just a fruit. Just a damn fruit.
A woman in the leering crowd began sprinting towards the group with a wide smile on her face. The two women quickly turned their heads to her, causing her to stop in her tracks and return to the crowd of onlookers.
"So what is this place?" Giru asked, teeth clenched.
"A safe haven for those that have left their mortality behind. Witches, warlocks, vampires, succubus."
The women stopped at the doors to a mansion, stepping apart and gesturing towards the door. "You may enter. Once you do, continue forward."
Inside was no different from the rest of the island. Gloomy, dark purple interior with scarce decorations and people looking at Giru with admiration and at his crew with disdain. He walked forward, tentacles poised to strike should anyone get to close, but the entire crowd shifted like a parting sea to let him through. Eventually he came to a throne, upon which sat a woman, seemingly in her mid-30's. Giru folded his arms and let his tentacles drop. "So I'm guessing you're the witch queen or some shit like that, huh?"
"You guess correctly, my lord."
Giru clenched his arm.
"I know what questions you want answered. The fruit you ate, as I'm sure the other lord has told you, is the demon among devil fruits. You may refer to yourself as human all you wish, but in our eyes you are truly the unholy."
" Last time I was sharing a body with someone I never even knew you guys existed! I have fans! This is awesome!" Akuma exclaimed.
"We brought you here not only to make sure you had not been imprisoned, but to offer you everything and anything you desire. No person on this island will tell you 'no'. Everything here is yours for the taking."
"Yea, well, the only thing I desire is to watch the blood spill from a Celestial Dragon's neck. So unless you can make that happen. I don't want shit from you."
The crowd went into an unintelligible, excited murmur. The queen stood with a smile on her face and hands on her hips. "You truly are our Lord. The Celestial Dragons have been our enemy for countless generations. To have their grasp on this world severed would be the greatest day in our history. Many of our kind have been stoned, burned-"
Giru rolled not only his eyes, but his entire head around in disinterest. "Yea, yea, witches get killed. That's kinda public knowledge. We'll be leaving now."
At this time, a pair of people came into the mansion. A tall, muscular man, no less than 9 feet tall, with a puppet mask on his face and the attire of a butler. However, the mask was cleanly cut off in the center to reveal his lips... or lack thereof. He had no cheeks or lips, just pitch black gums enveloping pearly white teeth. On his back were two flat beams crossed in an X, with chains in each end. These chains led to the man's wrists and ankles, essentially making him a puppet. In his left arm was carrying a limp black duffel bag that sounded goopy and gross as he moved with it. His right arm was preoccupied with keeping the lavendar haired woman on his shoulder steady. She appeared to be late 20's to early 30's in age, well endowed, and wearing a black dress and purple lab coat, as well as a pair of glasses. Her hand rested on the man's head, absent-mindedly stroking his slick grey hair. "Oh my," she commented, taking in the crowd's excitement. "Seems everyone's having a party without us, Mr. Sin."
"Hhhraaaaaarghl..."