Under a Killing Moon
By Sakata Ri Houjun
Part 2/3
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Seto/Katsuya
Warning: Angst, sex, blood, character death
Beta: Munky
Disclaimer: Ha. Ha. Ha. No.
I can't control this urgent need…
rips through my skin until I bleed… - The Murderess, Songs of the Witchblade
"We are so much more complicated than our names." – Dracula 2000
"People are ignorant. They'll feel better as long as someone is punished." – Final Fantasy VII
How can such a man be hauntingly beautiful and frightfully repulsive at the same time? – 'Thicker Than Blood', fanfic
We slept together a second time amidst a sea of carnage, a moment of passion that was meant to stop the nightmare. A perfect circle that was unspoiled by spilled blood where he clung to me like a child, sobbing. I could no longer detect his scent, only the sweet thick stench of meat that clung to his mouth and the stomach-churning odor of waste that came from disemboweling a victim.
The flaxen hair was clumped together with the drying thickness of blood; his whole body was drenched in it, becoming a demonic terror. I could only press his sticky form to my own, hoping to dispel the insanity that had clouded his mind, hoping that this was the cure needed to bring Katsuya back to me despite the inferno of death he'd caused.
The race of White Dragons is a powerful and arrogant breed. I know this because I am the perfect progeny, the child from eons of ancients that lorded the dominion of skies and brandished lightning as their weapon of choice. At one point I truly believed we were superior to all other creatures, favored by the gods with proof of our gleaming ivory scales and austere blue eyes.
That was before I met the crimson-eyed Katsuya, the draconic child of those who resided in primordial and fiery dwellings of earth. The moments shared in secret were enough to last a lifetime, though I knew it was the catalyst for imminent disaster.
The mark I left behind in the wake of our passion slowly transformed into a perfect scar, a pale marring that slashed alongside his throat. He had no sense to bother hiding what he was obviously proud of, and it was only a matter of time before the truth was revealed to those with eyes enough.
We were prepared, had talked extensively about this moment from the time we even considered mating, knowing the consequences would be dire. Unfortunately when they came for us I was held blameless while he was prosecuted to the full extent of our commandments. Somehow the elders theorized that those abhorred eyes ensnared me, turning me against my own clan, against my own blood.
Katsuya was imprisoned in the darkness, kicking and screaming with that agonized wail that I heard only once before: the day his brethren offered him up to us. An ungrateful whelp they called him, a thousand sibilant tongues hissing obscenities as they tore him from my side.
As for myself, I was isolated in a shadowed chamber, chains of quicksilver burning into my skin and scale as they waited for me to snap from the assumed trance the darkling was responsible for. I could not stretch my wings for tiny hooks of this gleaming metal held me utterly still lest I rip the delicate skin; every limb lashed and bound to render me helpless. This purifying torture tore at me, closing off my mind from the link that once connected me to my mate.
In the darkness I could only imagine the tortures they were performing on Katsuya, knowing that his crime in their eyes was far more atrocious. I was not foolish to entertain thoughts of freedom or of some magical reunion with my mate, especially knowing that no one would be willing to rescue the likes of Katsuya and that I would not be willing to feign guiltlessness just to abandon him to their justice. We knew the cost, talked of the possibilities of confinement, separation, even death once we realized how far our feelings were leading us. Our emotions ran so deep that we cast aside all fear, following our hearts for something we could cling to just once, knowing that it would bring only sorrow and pain in the end.
Though a part of my heart ached to believe, I knew that more than likely they had executed Katsuya, and trapped within the circle that bound me, feeling weak and helpless by the burning quicksilver, I accepted that fact with calm clarity. My release was inevitable and I could only wonder what would become of me then. Without my dark mate, who had become such a prominent part of my life, there would be this gaping void, and I truly feared because of my sin of loving him would ostracize me, as Katsuya had been, that I would become their dark curse.
Would the gods forgive me then if I chose instead to follow my mate into oblivion rather than endure such a punishment? Or would it be Katsuya who would hate my cowardice in taking my life? I knew in my heart of hearts that what I did was no transgression or crime. I loved someone fully and utterly, letting my blood run wildly in unbridled joy as no dragon dared to experience. If I died, by my hand or theirs, I would accept it with quiet grace and dignity, knowing that our union was worth the price or else I could not have claimed to truly live at all.
Then, as though conjured by my thoughts, stood Katsuya before in the gloom of my prison. The gleaming metal that held me fast kept my senses numb, unable to lash out at my detainers or fight back from their interrogation. I could only gaze up at him dully as he towered over me in the darkness, his lashing tail gleaming wetly, eyes fairly glowing. I could see his grin, white teeth obvious and menacing when coupled with the crimson orbs that marked him not of our tribe.
I could only stare at this apparition, realizing that my mind must surely be caving in, that the quicksilver had poisoned me enough to render me delusional. My eyes closed, unwilling to be tortured, even by my own imagination. I murmured a dry plea, voice uncharacteristically weak from being trapped within this hole, asking to not be tortured so.
Claws slid against my cheeks, gentle and affectionate, the action snapping my gaze wide as I beheld my hallucination once more. I could only stare incredulously as he pulled at my bindings, snapping them with little ease, the poisoned metal hissing into his flesh. With tender care he removed each hook that burned into the delicate skin of my wings and unwrapped the coils that trapped my twitching tail.
When the final chain fell to the floor with an echoing jangle that was discordantly musical, my senses returned. Like a gate being thrown wide, my mind was bombarded with pain and power. I could feel each indentation where the quicksilver burnt into flesh and scale and taste the vile toxin that coursed through my body. My eyes rested on Katsuya once the vertigo passed me over and I knew he was real, that he had, against all thought of reason, magically rescued me.
I crushed his form against my own feebly, relief flooding my heart at our untimely reunion, thanking the gods a thousand times over for bringing him back. Slowly strength returned to me, like a warm tide that washed against my skin, familiar power coursing through my veins. "How did you escape?" I asked once I trusted my voice not to sound so pitiful.
Katsuya merely giggled, a mockingly cute sound that vibrated into my shoulder where his head was buried. It was then I realized he was wet, my hands slick and sticky from where I held him. As soon as I became aware, the smell slapped me in the face, like a thick suffocating blanket that left me gagging as I pulled away from the embrace.
Blood. It dripped from his hair and streaked his dark face like macabre war paint. Thicker things clung to his clothes and lay gooped under his claws. I could feel it itching against my face where he had lovingly stoked me earlier and I repressed the urge to scratch, knowing that I'd only smear on more of the repugnant liquid. That maddening grin was still flashed at me, eyes seeking my praise as they had done when I first taught him how to speak. With startling horror I realized that I was now coated in the cloying sweet tang of blood, streaks of dark crimson evident against my pale skin.
For the second time of my life, I fled from Katsuya, instincts taking over. I wanted to escape that cramped prison and the sickening meaty stench that accompanied my mate. Up stone steps I scrambled, not moving fast enough, feeling bile burn at my throat. For a moment I paused, the time of my captivity catching up to me, rendering me breathless and spent. The odor still lingered following my frantic departure, and I gagged, yellow bile dripping to the white floor.
Somewhere along that connection of intricate knots that bound Katsuya to me as true mates I knew he was coming, though he was in no rush, his steps purposeful and slow. I coughed and spat out the taste that clung to my tongue, feeling a cold sweat tingle along my forehead, hair sticking against skin.
I was almost to daylight, escaping to fresh air where I could take wing and flee. To where, I did not know. Maybe I wanted to run from Katsuya, from this sudden fear he inspired that made me tremble. Maybe I just wanted to break free of my clan before they discovered my absence and hunted me down. All I knew was that I wanted to get as far as possible from this sickening stench, never mind that where I went Katsuya would follow.
My full weight was thrown against the gilded doors of my prison, sunlight pouring in to bathe me in warmth. Only it could not dispel the instant iciness that ran cold through my blood at the sight that greeted me.
At first, I could not make out much of anything, like looking through a blurred window to the world beyond. It was a sea of red glistening forms that refused to come into focus, my mind protecting itself from the horror of the carnage. I continued to stare at it stubbornly, refusing to ignore whatever truth I might behold even though I already knew.
Katsuya pressed up behind me, arms snaking around my waist in loving possession. His presence startled me, heart leaping into my throat as I turned to stare at him. In the daylight he looked far more frightening, still grinning as though proud of himself despite looking as though he'd been doused in gore. His hair was stained several shades of red, from the violent wetness of fresh blood to the deep burgundy of thicker drying fluids.
"Isn't it beautiful?" he purred, resting his head against my shoulder in admiration of what lay before us.
I knew this time that I would see, my mind screaming not to look. My head turned back to what had been unidentifiable prior, suddenly stunned beyond recognizable words. Bodies littered the ground in disjointed messes. It was as though they were twisted puppets whose strings had been cut and left to bleed where they fell. Some were rendered, torn limb from limb, the parts scattered and tossed like scattered toys that lost interest. There was blood everywhere, spattered against the pristine walls of our temples, staining the countenances of carved gods as though attacked by a mad artist.
It didn't stop there. Beyond the fallen rows of men who had obviously been attempting to prevent Katsuya from reaching me were the torn corpses of those unfortunate to get in his way. A young female had been gutted, gleaming entrails dangling from her stomach like thick fleshy ropes. Another older dragon lay sprawled, chest a gaping maw of bones and cleaved flesh, leaving you guessing its true gender if not for the firm lines of his hips. Two young children had fallen at the stone steps with their heads at unnatural angles, sightless blue eyes all seeming to stare at me, blaming me for their deaths, pleading revenge.
Carnage was too weak of a word. It had been an absolute bloodbath.
I feel to my knees, hands covering my eyes. I didn't want to see anymore, didn't want to be haunted by the woeful cries of silent bodies that lay cooling in the sun. Katsuya was there with me, still holding me, rocking back and forth in a comforting matter, cooing as though I were his child suffering from a nightmare.
"They will no longer bother us," he murmured into my hair, the clawed hands that had carved out the slaughter of my clan stroking my back. "We can be free to love each other without fear. They can't take you away from me again."
I screamed and fell against him, everything shaking, threatening to fade into oblivion. He held me still, pressing curiously gentle kisses to my face, his loving eyes heedless of what he had done. The moment our link was cut, I knew he must have surely gone mad, ripped from the one person who dared to care about him, lost only to the ingrained memories of his dying clan and the torment from a lifetime of abuse and intolerance from mine. Numbly I moved, wondering if the joy found in our coupling would chase away this torment, losing my sanity within the sticky warmth of his body.
In the doorway of a temple, blessedly free of gore, I explored my mate's body, the revolting stench of his handiwork choking each breath. I kissed his bloodstained flesh, tasting the death of my kin thick against tongue and teeth. The hands that killed them toyed with me, bringing guilty moans purring from my throat. I cried as I climaxed, realizing that despite how my heart yearned for him, nothing could be the same, that the dream couldn't dispel the nightmare my life had transformed into.
The daylight gave way to evening as we laid curled about each other, a blood red moon rising full and bright to cast an ethereal glow over the forgotten corpses of my brethren. How terribly appropriate and symbolic of this moment, to see the heavens offer such a tribute, something my ancients once paid homage to when were feral and wild as the land.
A moon to take life by.
