Whisper
In a dark and ponderous forest in Feudal Japan, two mighty youkai raged against each other in fiery battle. The roar and clash of combat echoed through the night, driving any reasonable creature to cower in terror. The intense fight centered in a large clearing as the warriors faced off for the umpteenth time. One, a seemingly delicate noblewoman, fought with a ferocious desperation against an opponent infinitely more powerful. Her foe, a tall, imposing lord, looked on with icy disinterest as he easily destroyed her feeble defenses.
The woman's chest heaved as she dragged in rough gasps of air. Her elegant, pale neck was marked with serrated wounds, and blood ran in rivulets down her weary limbs. Gleaming black hair straggled into her scarlet eyes, which burned with fierce denial. The rich kimono that hung from her in ruined folds left little to the imagination. As she was flung to the earth by a particularly violent attack, her long limbs sprawled in an unseemly show of luminous flesh.
Pulling herself to her feet, she balanced unsteadily, gazing into the cold eyes of her enemy. Their imperious gold stared back without a flicker of emotion. In the heat of the battle she found herself intensely aware of the grace in his movements, the controlled release of his muscle's explosive force. Stumbling towards him, she summoned her energy for another attack. She distantly noted that there was a single spray of blood marring the pristine fabric of his haori. It was her own; not a single attack had fazed the mighty youkai.
Golden eyes studied her erratic movements, easily discerning her intentions. The tiniest smirk curved his arrogant lips as he allowed himself a moment to glory in her pain. His body tensed in anticipation underneath his weighty armor. With a callous flick of his wrist, her damaged body was sent spinning backwards, striking a tree with an audible crack. Her head lolled back and after a moment when she still did not move, he began to slowly approach her, alert for any sort of deceit.
Resting in the darkness of unconsciousness, the woman looked harmless and forsaken. Seemingly slumped in a position of repose, one could believe her to be merely resting. The peaceful image was shattered by the numerous dripping wounds covering her body. The inuyoukai would never admit it aloud, but the sight of her so ravaged sent hot blood pulsing through his veins. No other female stirred him so, and though he secretly reveled in the experience, he had already determined to destroy her. Anything that was such a distraction during battle could only be a weakness.
Silent footsteps advanced on the weary wind youkai. Her long lashes fluttered briefly before lifting to reveal eyes that spoke of fear and fury. Raising her head, she managed a weak sneer, a final defiant gesture that was ruined by a bloody coughing fit. The taiyoukai above her examined her impassively, taking in the fact that her youki fluctuated wildly. There was no fight left in her body, but her spirit was not yet broken.
Sesshomaru, Lord of the Western Lands, knelt before Kagura, creation and slave to the hanyou Naraku. The movement brought his face flush with hers. Her already uncertain breathing hitched at his nearness. She tasted the metallic nectar of blood as it dribbled across her crimson lips, and her eyes widened. Gathering herself, she rasped out a request.
"Grant me death. Death with honor, not a half-life at my master's hands." The haughty lord's amber gaze bored into her own bold orbs, and she shuddered as more blood from her internal injuries slid across her tongue. It leaked out of the corner of her mouth, and he traced its path down her bruised alabaster cheek.
His stoic mask cracked slightly at the sight of her lifeblood. Reaching out, he caught the glittering liquid on one lengthy claw. Kagura watched in fascination as he brought it to those cruel, patrician lips. Slowly they parted, and his tongue darted out to languidly sample the taste of her defeat.
After a moment in which Kagura felt more of herself ebb away into the void, his unemotional gaze raked her shattered form. Sesshomaru reached a decision and rose to tower over the incapacitated woman.
"This Sesshomaru believes that you have not earned the privilege of dying at his hand." All her hopes of an easy entry into oblivion retreated before the surging wave of pain and anguish. Unbidden, a glowing tear fell to mix with the ruby beauty of her blood-streaked skin.
"Please…" She exhaled the word, knowing that such weakness would only drive the arrogant lord away. As her eyes slid closed, the thought came to her that to even have merited the attention of such a magnificent youkai was a great honor.
If only he had been willing to help her. She would have given him her body, her soul… Even her heart, her most prized and coveted possession.
She would have given him everything.
Blackness welled up and carried her away, into the world of shade and forgetfulness.
Hello darkness, my old friend.
I've come to talk with you again.
A/N Hmm… It's an attempt to get the creative juices flowing again. The formatting isn't working, it was written at four in the morning and remains un-betaed. Forgive me. uu