Chapter Three: Abduction!
John was stopping at a fruit vendor, his head lowered, scanning the crates of fruit. Good, he wasn't looking in her direction, she could make a run for it and catch up to him. Dashing to the fruit stand, she slid/skidded into hiding behind a stack of Kiwi crates. Breathing hard, she crouched in the shadow of the crates, she'd gouged her calf against the rough, splintery corners of one of the crates and small shiny drops of blood were starting to bead the raised welt. But Kagome ignored that, trying to get a better view of John and the fruit vender. What were they doing? The Kiwi crates were stacked too high, she could barely see the vendor and she couldn't see John. Crouching on hands and knees, she slowly crawled further towards the pair, to the slatted orange crates. She pressed her face to the rough wood of the crate, much better. Now she had a clear view of them both, and she was within hearing distance. Her eyes narrowed in triumph, and she grinned to herself, whatever plot these two had going, she'd stop them. Adrenaline sang through her veins, and she tightened her hands into fists, her fingernails leaving small crescent shaped cuts on the soft skin of her palms. She could handle this on her own, she didn't need Inuyasha.
The fragrance of oranges was sweet in the air, sickly sweet. The oranges at the bottom of the crate were rotting, squished by the weight of the top oranges and covered with a fuzzy white and green mold. They oozed rotting pulp and sticky juice. It had trickled down the edges of the crates to puddle at their base where Kagome was crouching. Kagome was oblivious to the fact that she was kneeling in the stuff, it covered her hands, shoes, and legs where they were pressed into the pavement. She was concentrating too hard on John's conversation with the vendor to notice anything else. He was -- she cocked her head to catch the last couple of words- buying bananas?? Three pounds, fresh from Panama, a "real bargain."
Kagome's head sank, and her shoulder's slumped. She became aware of her left calf which stung horribly from where the acid of the rotting oranges had rubbed into her already painful cut. John was leaving, jauntily swinging his purchase as he walked away from the fruit stand. Maybe she should just go home, she didn't think there was a single place on her body or dignity that wasn't bruised, cut, or sore.
BAM
*Kagome's pride hits her with a mallet*
Kagome's pride: Snap out of it!!! Go follow him!!! Kagome: But it hurts!! And he's not doing anything!! Kagome's pride:*skeptical look* Yeah sure, Kagome, a demon that goes to junior high for fun. Your junior high as a matter of fact. OF COURSE HE'S UP TO SOMETHING!! *directs steely/angry look at Kagome* NOW MOVE! IKE!! -End mental dialogue
Kagome sighed and stood up, stepping reluctantly in the direction of John's receding figure. But a firm hand on her shoulder stopped her, and jerked her back into the fruit stand. Kagome shrieked and whirled around. It was the fruit vendor. "Hey" he said in an irate voice "what do you think you're doing messin' around in my fruit stand?"
"Um," Kagome stuttered trying to look innocent as she dripped orange juice. "Well?", the vender grabbed her shoulder and shook her, "I'm not having any little delinquents stealing from my stand -y'hear?"
"I wasn't stealing!", Kagome blurted out angrily, then craned her head around looking in the direction John had headed. He was entering the park, she couldn't lose him, not after she'd gone though all this.
"Well?", the vender shook her again, forcibly bringing her attention back to him.
"I. . . I. . . lost my contact- and I was looking for it.", Kagome fibbed, face reddening as she made up a story. The fruit vender didn't look convinced, but he let her go, giving her a dark stare and shaking his fist and saying something about "better not come back here again, ya lousy little" But Kagome didn't catch much of it. The instant he let go of her shoulder, she bolted in the direction of the park. John had already disappeared behind its gates. "Please don't let me have lost him," she prayed, running past the scrolled iron bars of the park entrance gate, then skidding to a halt in the main clearing of the park. The empty main clearing. Oh there were trees, painted red benches, scraggly bushes, and even a few late birds, but no people, or any sign of them. The pathway was gravel, and there were no footprints in it. Darn it!! Kagome furiously kicked at a rock, it skidded across the path raising dust and bouncing off the gnarled trunk of an old, dormant oak tree. How could she have lost him? She kicked at a bigger rock, painfully stubbing her toe. It wasn't fair, she mentally cried, she'd tried so hard! This time she picked up the rock that had stubbed her toe, and heaved it as hard as she could at the oak tree. It made a satisfyingly loud thud, shaking the trunk and causing the tree's empty branches to clatter together noisily.
"Hey," a voice from behind her protested, "what have you got against trees?"
She knew that voice. Kagome slowly turned around, first her head, then her feet. He was here after all. He stood, illuminated in a patch of sunlight on the far side of the clearing. A loose bit of his long, wavy hair fell over his right eye, the rest was gathered up in a pony tail at the back of his neck. He was grinning at her, he looked gorgeous, standing straight and slim with one hand casually resting in his trouser pocket, the other resting loosely against his side. He was still wearing the dark blue school uniform that all boy's had to wear, but he managed to make it look elegant and dashing. Having caught Kagome's attention, his grin widened, became sinister. "Well," he said in a conversational tone, "fancy meeting you here." Kagome turned white with rage. The whole time. He'd been aware of her the whole time. "Why did you show up at my school? Why have you been following me?" Kagome demanded, her voice raw with anger, trembling from the barely suppressed urge to scream at him. How dare he toy with her! Her slim body stood tall, tense with outrage, her hands balled into tight fists at her sides. She glared threateningly at him.
"My what a curious mind you have," John said in a light voice, "do you always follow strange boys home from school?" he continued, stepping towards her.
"Follow strange boys, how dare you!!," Kagome spluttered raising her hand high. She would have struck him, leaving an angry red palm print to mar his perfect face and wipe it of its annoying, triumphant grin. She would have. But before she could do more than raise it slightly in the air. John had grabbed her wrist, gently, his fingertips barely touching her skin. Nonetheless, his grasp was iron hard, he raised Kagome's wrist, forcing her to stand on tiptoe. Kagome fought, tugging at her wrist, but John was a demon, possessed of incredible strength. No human could escape from his grasp, much less a slender schoolgirl already tired from an eventful night and her recent attempt to follow him. John raised an eyebrow at her desperate attempts to free herself. He had not dropped his nonchalant pose, he was still standing, not a hair out of place, shaking his head slightly in a general remonstrance at Kagome's antics. "Come now," he teased, "this has been ridiculously easy up to this point, don't make it difficult now. I must confess, you're the first one who's ever followed me. And on the first day too! You have no idea how much trouble you've saved me. Normally, it takes at least a week to get my target alone someplace like this!" John beamed happily at Kagome who was looking at him with a horrified expression on her upturned face. Kagome's breath caught in her throat. "Run" her mind screamed, but she couldn't, her hand was caught, pinned in John's butterfly gentle grip. John's teeth glinted, white in the sun. He was grinning, cockily, triumphantly. He raised his hand to stroke her silky, smooth black hair and trace the delicate curve of her cheek, a mocking, insolent caress. Kagome flinched back, closing her eyes. No, she drew in a breadth. She had to escape, she had to run she must- something stung briefly at the back of her neck, a brief pain at the base of her neck, like an ant bite. Clapping her hand to the nape of her neck, she looked up at the suddenly taller and fuzzier figure of John. Her mind was getting fuzzier too. He had released her wrist, she was supposed to do something, what was she supposed to do? Her eyelids were so heavy, refusing to stay open. Her knees buckled, unable to bear her weight and she fell heavily to the ground. She was so tired, she needed to sleep. But no, she couldn't sleep, she had to remember! She tried to lift herself back up, pushing against the cold gravel and dirt of the path. She could barely raise her head, her hands and arms trembled in warning, unable to bear even that much weight, then collapsed, driving her face into the dirt, she could taste it, cold and dead on her tongue, her nose had started bleeding again, the blood warm and wet flowed sluggishly, gathering at the rise of her lip, then succumbing to gravity and dropping to the waiting ground, sinking into the dead grass and rocks leaving a dark red, almost black stain to mark its path. What was it that she had been trying so hard to remember? If she could just remember, then she could go to sleep. What? With an effort she forced her eyes open. Remember. She must remember. She stared at the pair of slightly dusty shoes that stood like rocks, inches from her nose. Run, that's what she was supposed to remember. Her eyelids fluttered, blurring her already furry vision. "Run," she whispered, her lips making grooves in the blood damp earth.
John Steinmann stared down at the girl's prone form, he was seized with this inexplicable urge to run. This was getting boring, at first it had been amusing to toy with the human girls before he captured them, but this time it had just been boring. He hadn't had the heart to drag it out for more than a few minutes. The sharp coppery odor of the girl's blood permeated the air, he hated the smell of mortal blood, it stank. But under the smell of blood there was another scent. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs, something sweet, like honeysuckle and amber, like magic. Not the magic of the sleeping spell which had been on the knife he'd pricked the girl's neck with, that had long since evaporated - besides its smell had been different, cloying - like vanilla. He glanced with surprise and amusement at Kagome's still form. She had worked a spell! Very basic, but then she had been drugged and was completely untrained. She would be a very strong sorceress. Perhaps, his eyes narrowed in thought, stronger than his mistress, strong enough to break the enchantment that had bound him to the old crone's will for the past century? But, his brows puckered in a frown, he had to obey the crone's will, he had to take the girl to her - he couldn't directly defy the crone's orders. So he needed a hold over the girl, something that would guarantee her cooperation once her magic was strong enough. There was no way he could just talk her into lifting his enchantment. Not after he'd kidnapped her. But he couldn't just slap an enslavement spell on her like the crone had done to him. The crone would sense a spell like that immediately, remove it, and keep him on a tighter leash than ever. No, he thought looking at the blood dripping from the girl's face, hands, and knees. He needed something more . . . subtle, he thought as he made a small cut on his palm. Then, bending down he gripped Kagome's limp hand, and turned it over, palm up. There were already a few small cuts, but they had long since stopped bleeding. Carefully, with the tip of his knife, he made a matching incision on Kagome's palm. It blended in with the other slightly curved cuts she'd previously made with her own nails. "Heh," he chuckled "humans aren't the only ones who know magic" he whispered to himself as he pressed his hand to Kagome's, so that their cuts met and their blood mingled, chanting:
"Blood bind you to me
Till your magic set me free"
There, it was finished. Short, maybe a little crude but vague enough that the crone shouldn't sense it, yet specific enough that eventually the girl would set him free. Already, the cinnamon scent of his magic was fading. The minute it was gone, he'd contact the crone, she'd be pleased at how quickly he'd captured Kagome. Maybe, he thought with a smile of anticipation, she'd even loosen his leash a bit.
Next Chapter: Inuyasha to the rescue!
John was stopping at a fruit vendor, his head lowered, scanning the crates of fruit. Good, he wasn't looking in her direction, she could make a run for it and catch up to him. Dashing to the fruit stand, she slid/skidded into hiding behind a stack of Kiwi crates. Breathing hard, she crouched in the shadow of the crates, she'd gouged her calf against the rough, splintery corners of one of the crates and small shiny drops of blood were starting to bead the raised welt. But Kagome ignored that, trying to get a better view of John and the fruit vender. What were they doing? The Kiwi crates were stacked too high, she could barely see the vendor and she couldn't see John. Crouching on hands and knees, she slowly crawled further towards the pair, to the slatted orange crates. She pressed her face to the rough wood of the crate, much better. Now she had a clear view of them both, and she was within hearing distance. Her eyes narrowed in triumph, and she grinned to herself, whatever plot these two had going, she'd stop them. Adrenaline sang through her veins, and she tightened her hands into fists, her fingernails leaving small crescent shaped cuts on the soft skin of her palms. She could handle this on her own, she didn't need Inuyasha.
The fragrance of oranges was sweet in the air, sickly sweet. The oranges at the bottom of the crate were rotting, squished by the weight of the top oranges and covered with a fuzzy white and green mold. They oozed rotting pulp and sticky juice. It had trickled down the edges of the crates to puddle at their base where Kagome was crouching. Kagome was oblivious to the fact that she was kneeling in the stuff, it covered her hands, shoes, and legs where they were pressed into the pavement. She was concentrating too hard on John's conversation with the vendor to notice anything else. He was -- she cocked her head to catch the last couple of words- buying bananas?? Three pounds, fresh from Panama, a "real bargain."
Kagome's head sank, and her shoulder's slumped. She became aware of her left calf which stung horribly from where the acid of the rotting oranges had rubbed into her already painful cut. John was leaving, jauntily swinging his purchase as he walked away from the fruit stand. Maybe she should just go home, she didn't think there was a single place on her body or dignity that wasn't bruised, cut, or sore.
BAM
*Kagome's pride hits her with a mallet*
Kagome's pride: Snap out of it!!! Go follow him!!! Kagome: But it hurts!! And he's not doing anything!! Kagome's pride:*skeptical look* Yeah sure, Kagome, a demon that goes to junior high for fun. Your junior high as a matter of fact. OF COURSE HE'S UP TO SOMETHING!! *directs steely/angry look at Kagome* NOW MOVE! IKE!! -End mental dialogue
Kagome sighed and stood up, stepping reluctantly in the direction of John's receding figure. But a firm hand on her shoulder stopped her, and jerked her back into the fruit stand. Kagome shrieked and whirled around. It was the fruit vendor. "Hey" he said in an irate voice "what do you think you're doing messin' around in my fruit stand?"
"Um," Kagome stuttered trying to look innocent as she dripped orange juice. "Well?", the vender grabbed her shoulder and shook her, "I'm not having any little delinquents stealing from my stand -y'hear?"
"I wasn't stealing!", Kagome blurted out angrily, then craned her head around looking in the direction John had headed. He was entering the park, she couldn't lose him, not after she'd gone though all this.
"Well?", the vender shook her again, forcibly bringing her attention back to him.
"I. . . I. . . lost my contact- and I was looking for it.", Kagome fibbed, face reddening as she made up a story. The fruit vender didn't look convinced, but he let her go, giving her a dark stare and shaking his fist and saying something about "better not come back here again, ya lousy little" But Kagome didn't catch much of it. The instant he let go of her shoulder, she bolted in the direction of the park. John had already disappeared behind its gates. "Please don't let me have lost him," she prayed, running past the scrolled iron bars of the park entrance gate, then skidding to a halt in the main clearing of the park. The empty main clearing. Oh there were trees, painted red benches, scraggly bushes, and even a few late birds, but no people, or any sign of them. The pathway was gravel, and there were no footprints in it. Darn it!! Kagome furiously kicked at a rock, it skidded across the path raising dust and bouncing off the gnarled trunk of an old, dormant oak tree. How could she have lost him? She kicked at a bigger rock, painfully stubbing her toe. It wasn't fair, she mentally cried, she'd tried so hard! This time she picked up the rock that had stubbed her toe, and heaved it as hard as she could at the oak tree. It made a satisfyingly loud thud, shaking the trunk and causing the tree's empty branches to clatter together noisily.
"Hey," a voice from behind her protested, "what have you got against trees?"
She knew that voice. Kagome slowly turned around, first her head, then her feet. He was here after all. He stood, illuminated in a patch of sunlight on the far side of the clearing. A loose bit of his long, wavy hair fell over his right eye, the rest was gathered up in a pony tail at the back of his neck. He was grinning at her, he looked gorgeous, standing straight and slim with one hand casually resting in his trouser pocket, the other resting loosely against his side. He was still wearing the dark blue school uniform that all boy's had to wear, but he managed to make it look elegant and dashing. Having caught Kagome's attention, his grin widened, became sinister. "Well," he said in a conversational tone, "fancy meeting you here." Kagome turned white with rage. The whole time. He'd been aware of her the whole time. "Why did you show up at my school? Why have you been following me?" Kagome demanded, her voice raw with anger, trembling from the barely suppressed urge to scream at him. How dare he toy with her! Her slim body stood tall, tense with outrage, her hands balled into tight fists at her sides. She glared threateningly at him.
"My what a curious mind you have," John said in a light voice, "do you always follow strange boys home from school?" he continued, stepping towards her.
"Follow strange boys, how dare you!!," Kagome spluttered raising her hand high. She would have struck him, leaving an angry red palm print to mar his perfect face and wipe it of its annoying, triumphant grin. She would have. But before she could do more than raise it slightly in the air. John had grabbed her wrist, gently, his fingertips barely touching her skin. Nonetheless, his grasp was iron hard, he raised Kagome's wrist, forcing her to stand on tiptoe. Kagome fought, tugging at her wrist, but John was a demon, possessed of incredible strength. No human could escape from his grasp, much less a slender schoolgirl already tired from an eventful night and her recent attempt to follow him. John raised an eyebrow at her desperate attempts to free herself. He had not dropped his nonchalant pose, he was still standing, not a hair out of place, shaking his head slightly in a general remonstrance at Kagome's antics. "Come now," he teased, "this has been ridiculously easy up to this point, don't make it difficult now. I must confess, you're the first one who's ever followed me. And on the first day too! You have no idea how much trouble you've saved me. Normally, it takes at least a week to get my target alone someplace like this!" John beamed happily at Kagome who was looking at him with a horrified expression on her upturned face. Kagome's breath caught in her throat. "Run" her mind screamed, but she couldn't, her hand was caught, pinned in John's butterfly gentle grip. John's teeth glinted, white in the sun. He was grinning, cockily, triumphantly. He raised his hand to stroke her silky, smooth black hair and trace the delicate curve of her cheek, a mocking, insolent caress. Kagome flinched back, closing her eyes. No, she drew in a breadth. She had to escape, she had to run she must- something stung briefly at the back of her neck, a brief pain at the base of her neck, like an ant bite. Clapping her hand to the nape of her neck, she looked up at the suddenly taller and fuzzier figure of John. Her mind was getting fuzzier too. He had released her wrist, she was supposed to do something, what was she supposed to do? Her eyelids were so heavy, refusing to stay open. Her knees buckled, unable to bear her weight and she fell heavily to the ground. She was so tired, she needed to sleep. But no, she couldn't sleep, she had to remember! She tried to lift herself back up, pushing against the cold gravel and dirt of the path. She could barely raise her head, her hands and arms trembled in warning, unable to bear even that much weight, then collapsed, driving her face into the dirt, she could taste it, cold and dead on her tongue, her nose had started bleeding again, the blood warm and wet flowed sluggishly, gathering at the rise of her lip, then succumbing to gravity and dropping to the waiting ground, sinking into the dead grass and rocks leaving a dark red, almost black stain to mark its path. What was it that she had been trying so hard to remember? If she could just remember, then she could go to sleep. What? With an effort she forced her eyes open. Remember. She must remember. She stared at the pair of slightly dusty shoes that stood like rocks, inches from her nose. Run, that's what she was supposed to remember. Her eyelids fluttered, blurring her already furry vision. "Run," she whispered, her lips making grooves in the blood damp earth.
John Steinmann stared down at the girl's prone form, he was seized with this inexplicable urge to run. This was getting boring, at first it had been amusing to toy with the human girls before he captured them, but this time it had just been boring. He hadn't had the heart to drag it out for more than a few minutes. The sharp coppery odor of the girl's blood permeated the air, he hated the smell of mortal blood, it stank. But under the smell of blood there was another scent. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs, something sweet, like honeysuckle and amber, like magic. Not the magic of the sleeping spell which had been on the knife he'd pricked the girl's neck with, that had long since evaporated - besides its smell had been different, cloying - like vanilla. He glanced with surprise and amusement at Kagome's still form. She had worked a spell! Very basic, but then she had been drugged and was completely untrained. She would be a very strong sorceress. Perhaps, his eyes narrowed in thought, stronger than his mistress, strong enough to break the enchantment that had bound him to the old crone's will for the past century? But, his brows puckered in a frown, he had to obey the crone's will, he had to take the girl to her - he couldn't directly defy the crone's orders. So he needed a hold over the girl, something that would guarantee her cooperation once her magic was strong enough. There was no way he could just talk her into lifting his enchantment. Not after he'd kidnapped her. But he couldn't just slap an enslavement spell on her like the crone had done to him. The crone would sense a spell like that immediately, remove it, and keep him on a tighter leash than ever. No, he thought looking at the blood dripping from the girl's face, hands, and knees. He needed something more . . . subtle, he thought as he made a small cut on his palm. Then, bending down he gripped Kagome's limp hand, and turned it over, palm up. There were already a few small cuts, but they had long since stopped bleeding. Carefully, with the tip of his knife, he made a matching incision on Kagome's palm. It blended in with the other slightly curved cuts she'd previously made with her own nails. "Heh," he chuckled "humans aren't the only ones who know magic" he whispered to himself as he pressed his hand to Kagome's, so that their cuts met and their blood mingled, chanting:
"Blood bind you to me
Till your magic set me free"
There, it was finished. Short, maybe a little crude but vague enough that the crone shouldn't sense it, yet specific enough that eventually the girl would set him free. Already, the cinnamon scent of his magic was fading. The minute it was gone, he'd contact the crone, she'd be pleased at how quickly he'd captured Kagome. Maybe, he thought with a smile of anticipation, she'd even loosen his leash a bit.
Next Chapter: Inuyasha to the rescue!