The tall, blond man moved in his bonds, the chains clinking softly, leather rubbing sensuously over glistening skin. Muscles stood out with the strain of his efforts to move against what held him in place while torturous hands ran over the slick skin, teased and tickled, stroked and caressed. The hands brushed over the knot that kept the blindfold in place, then played with the whitish blond strands cascading down, creating a silky waterfall over the perfectly shaped body.
Ryu let his own hands wander over his heated skin, underneath his wide open shirt, his eyes on the screen. They were half closed, his body thrumming with the reaction to the sensuous input.
The blond cried out as his torturer continued his assault, licking hot spots, running a riding crop over long legs, between them, rubbing over what it found there.
Ryu exhaled softly and let his own hands go where he felt his desire rise.
The internet was a glorious institution, he mused, his brain fogged with lust. So many wonderful files to be found, such intriguing new concepts he had tried out -- each and every one. Immortality had its perks because there would always be a new wave of supplies, of ideas, of porn. This basement room was testimony to the centuries of perversion of mankind. It wasn't like he was the ultimate pervert; someone else had come up with it first and he had found it intriguing. It helped with the boredom as decades turned into centuries, turned into millennia.
The blond moaned, straining more, but this time into the touch of the dark-haired man so slowly massaging the evidence of his wants and needs.
Ryu closed his eyes, his mind slowly replaying his own pleasure. He had given himself to it countless times, had reached climax in a multitude of ways, and he had used images from movies, from pictures, from artwork to complete the illusion.
Now the image was of a blond man, so much like the one bound and blind-folded, needy and crying for more. Blond hair spilled over the shoulders down his back, a back that was showing every string of muscle as it arched under his touch. The eyes were closed in ecstasy, legs tried to spread wider.
Ryu increased his manipulations as the porn movie took the next step, as the moans turned into cries of pleasure, into demands for more. And more was given. He knew exactly when the dark-haired torturer would do what to his submissive, when he would start his next round of teasing and mastery.
His mind's eyes changed the blond of his imagination, his fantasy grew more to reality as images of another night slipped in. He found himself looking down on a well-known face, seeing nothing but lust and pleasure in the onyx eyes, the arms high over his head, bound, shackled, secured to the bed. The legs the same, spread open, the body at his mercy. He took in the various leather straps that encircled the blond's arousal, that put it on wonderful, erotic display.
"Rikugo..."
Ryu heard the name, his own voice whispering it with such devotion, and his eyes snapped open as his fantasy was suddenly no longer that.
As the illusion became too real, as his desires and the physical reality collided.
No!
Arousal deflating a little, he sat up, exhaling sharply.
No, not Rikugo. He couldn't... he wouldn't... As much as his fantasies involved mastery and bondage, just thinking that he would use the shikigami like that, that he would mar that wonderful body with those tools...
Ryu rose abruptly and switched off the porn movie. Silence descended, only broken by his harsh breaths.
No!
He would never do this to this wonderful man. He would never try to dominate him, be the master of the best thing that had happened to him in a long time.
Ryu ran a shaky hand through his tousled hair and tried to calm down.
How could he even think that?
Using their encounters to feed his starving body and soul while Rikugo wasn't here was one thing; inserting the bdsm angle was... sick.
He smiled humorlessly.
Yeah, well, I am a pervert, right? I am jaded and damaged beyond repair...
But he would never live out this fantasy with Rikugo. Never. Even if the shikigami came up to him one day and told him that this was their last encounter.
Closing his shirt and making himself presentable, Ryu left the room and pulled the door shut. He no longer felt the need, nor the lust. The image of Rikugo had been like a dose of cold water.
What are you doing to me, shikigami? he thought with a faint smile.
° ° °
It was the first time in over two weeks that Rikugo was back in GensouKai. In a way he had missed it; then again, not really considering what lurked here. He just hoped his presence would go unnoticed, as well as his powered down state. Wearing the high-necked cloak he could hide the shorter hair, though if anyone truly scanned him they would immediately realize that something was wrong.
Genbu knew and upon his return the old Gold just gave him a close look, then smiled.
"Welcome back."
"I see everything's still standing, so Sohryu didn't go on a rage," Rikugo chuckled.
"No, he didn't, but he asked where you were several times. I told him you were... conducting experiments away from here." Genbu stroked his beard. "I'm not sure he bought it, though."
Rikugo sighed. He probably hadn't.
"You look improved, Rikugo," the Protector of the North went on. "I take it you had some relaxing times?"
Thoughts and memories of Ryu flashed by and Rikugo found himself nodding. "Yes."
"Good."
And with that Genbu walked off, the walking stick clicking on the floor.
Good? Rikugo thought. Good? Was it good? It sure had felt wonderful to be with Ryu, but... could this be truly it? Could it last?
He wanted it to, yes. He so badly wanted it to. Ryu, despite being a soul with more than enough damage of its own, was like a balm he had been looking for without being aware of it. His presence alone helped Rikugo come to terms with his 'crimes'.
Good.
Very good. It was very good.
Rikugo sighed. How long did 'very good' stay that way before turning into something terrible?
° ° °
Meifu was only one of five realms in existence. It was the realm of Judgment where Enma-Daiou ruled over the souls, decided where they would go. It was neutral ground so to speak. Intricately connected to this central part of the Order was the world of the living, the two realms that were governed by the Lords of Heaven and Hell, and GensouKai, the realm of dreams. Each was kept apart from the other by barriers and shields, and GensouKai was only accessible by Gates that were guarded by Gate Keepers like Wakaba. Two shinigami had the power to come and go without the Gates, but their access could never be used to let an unauthorized person enter.
And even if a demonic entity should choose to do so, Enma-Daiou could immediately detect it.
The wormhole problem had been solved for a while now and unwanted disappearances of shikigami of low levels through an accidental wormhole were no longer an option. The main computer of the dream world now controlled those incidents.
So it was with surprise that the Count noticed the fluctuation in the barriers. He had sat in the study, going through old books, when the faint shift had alerted him to something quite out of the ordinary.
When the alarms started, he was already moving toward the great hall that was the entrance into the Palace of Candles, long legs eating of the distance. His own nature stirred as it recognized a brother, though only in powers. His demonic side would never serve Hell, nor anyone else. Enma-Daiou had made that clear and Ryu had no intention of becoming a creature of darkness the likes only Hell brought forth.
He stopped at the second floor balcony and looked down into the empty room, brows drawn down over glowing red eyes.
Something stirred.
Like dry leaves in an autumn breeze, fluttering ominously, announcing the coming of something greater.
"Sir?"
The gravelly voice was at his knee level, but Ryu didn't take his eyes from the emptiness.
"We have a guest, Watson," he said, voice no longer jovial or warm. It lacked any kind of positive emotion. "We better prepare a welcome."
"I understand, Sir."
"Lock down the Palace. It might have gotten in, but it won't get out again."
"Yes, Sir."
Watson disappeared, his small legs taking him down the corridor to the stairs at the other side of the floor.
Ryu tilted his head a little, frowning more. Again there was a stirring and it moved. Slow, deliberately slow, scouting.
Curious.
And then the Palace gave him another bearing and he snorted.
Of all the balls... Whatever he was, he was already moving through the Hall of Mirror.
Gutsy.
Without bothering with the stairs, the Count easily jumped the balustrade, airborne for a second, then he dropped lithely to the floor two stories below. He caught the impact easily, knees bending, one hand touching the ground to steady himself, then he straightened.
He walked down the hallway to the Hall of Mirrors, power wafting around him like a living being, a snarling, coiling mass of energy that was just waiting to strike out at its opponent. He drew more and more with every step, felt the seal dissolve under the defensive forces coming to his beck and call. And with each crack and crumble of the eternal lock his true nature was revealed more and more.
Red eyes took on a fiery glow, a shimmer of gold and orange and the dusky amber of a smoldering fire. Round ears suddenly had a little pointy edge and when he bared his teeth, fangs glinted dangerously behind his lips. The power was there, at his grasp, everything he had inherited from the creature he had thought to destroy and that had made him his spawn. Back then, so long ago, he had become what his people had always called him, but today he was able to use it, the power and strength of a demon.
The intruder was close, still within the Hall, but now at the other end, taking its time to look for what it had come here, and Ryu knew where it would want to be. There was only one interesting part in this place for such a thing.
The Count turned another corner, quite aware of where the thing was. He was the master of this building, the palace, and he knew where everything and everyone was if he wanted to. He and this building were quite interwoven.
Whatever had come here, it was dangerous, it was demonic, of a devil's making, and it was homing in on the Candles. Something about it was also quite odd, not really demonic, but he sensed the aura underneath it. It was a devil laying in wait, a creature hiding behind something that was growing less and less to shield it properly.
Stepping into the Hall of Mirror, he looked down the length of the expensive room with its marble pillars and priceless artifacts. Red eyes homed in on the creature that had dared to breach his home.
"Who are you?" he asked loudly.
The man was human, at least by appearance. About his size, with brown hair, dressed in a pair of simple pants, a casual sweater, and wearing glasses. The Count stopped for a moment, caught by surprise.
This was the intruder? A simple human who radiated such danger and looked like he was barely past his thirties?
Then again, looks could be deceiving. Tsuzuki was the best example. He was the most innocent creature he had ever seen, but he wasn't. He could wipe out Meifu with his powers if he ever thought about it. The Count smiled grimly.
Something stirred again, like a bubble coming to the surface in a glass of sparkling water. Slow, deliberate, cautious. There was more where that came from, but he couldn't really classify it right now.
Demonic, yes. His kin. But which one?
"You're the caretaker," the human said slowly, looking at him as if he was a very interesting species of insect.
"And you're trespassing."
"I want her candle."
He blinked. "What?"
And how had he come here? The shift of power the Count had felt had been of demonic proportions! No human could enter the realm of Enma-Daiou unless he was dead, and this man looked very much alive. And no devil could enter either. So what was this man? A vessel? A devil in disguise? Or a summoner who had used a devil to fulfill his desires?
Humans were so foolish sometimes, he mused darkly. He had been the same once. Too sure of himself, too naïve, convinced there would be no drawbacks.
So had this poor man done what he thought he had? Had he called upon a creature of darkness to come here? What did he think he could do here? The Palace of Candles was even outside the Juo-Cho's jurisdiction. Everything the Count did was out of the goodness of his heart -- he chuckled sarcastically -- not because any of the shinigami had any say in the matters of life and death.
"My daughter Mako. She is in your books and I want her back. I want her candle," the intruder said. "I want Mako back."
The Count smiled humorlessly. So his child had been killed or had died of a sickness and he wanted her back among the living.
"Impossible. Her candle has been extinguished and no one can light it again. The books cannot be rewritten."
Well, he had done so once or twice, for Tsuzuki. It had been no serious crime and not even Enma-Daiou could punish him for it. But to relight a candle for more than a few hours and alter the books forever? No...
"You can," came the toneless answer.
Well, yes, he could. But he wouldn't.
"Do it."
"No."
There was a shift in powers and Ryu tensed a little. Something was odd here; and something was very wrong. Again he had the sensation of demon kin close by. Very close by.
"You have the power," the man repeated, the eyes strangely empty. "You can do it. You can bring her back to me. She is all I've left."
"Sorry, no."
Demon kind... very close... right...
... here...
He barely had a second to react when the human moved. With a speed only rivaled by a shinigami the simple man had struck out and where the Count had been there was now a crater, smoking slightly.
What was he?
Dull eyes glowed with an unholy light and there was a tearing, ripping sound as the back of the human broke open, wings extending like a grotesque scaffolding, with leathery membranes, dripping blood. The whole body underwent a transformation that was as disgusting as it was fascinating. The brief scream from the man was cut off and transformed into a roar. Within a second the human form was no more. In its place crouched a creature from Hell.
"Hid, hm?" the Count asked casually. "How truly devilish of you."
The fanged mouth broke into a grin and a deep, grating chuckle could be heard. "He was such easy prey," the devil snarled.
"Aren't they all?" Ryu raised one hand, collecting power in his open palm. "Leave," he commanded calmly.
Laughter answered him. "After coming this far? No. These souls are mine! All of them!"
"I beg to differ."
"You think you can stop me, puny shinigami?"
He smiled coldly. "Yes, definitely."
The power spiked.
"Your kind is too weak!"
"You don't even know my kind, but I know yours. I am your kind," Ryu growled, his own aura fluctuating, changing as he finally gave up all pretense.
The devil tilted its head, baring its fangs in a grotesque smile. "I see... This will be more entertaining than I thought."
And all hell broke lose.
tbc...