Rated PG-13 for language, gore, and death

Chapter Seven

The bitch branded me; that stupid, god damned infernal harlot destroyed my face. Dominating my entire left cheek was a scar; the most hideous scar I've seen in my life. It doesn't look fully like the cross she burned me with, but you can sure as hell tell that there was something along the lines of a crucifix on my face. I stared at it…hideous. She'd pay…oh hell yes she would pay. But didn't I always say that? 'She'll pay' is the very thing I've said every time I faced off with her but she always, ALWAYS, got the upper hand and threw something holy on me. Maybe I should stop saying 'She'll pay' and actually make her pay. But how?

It was a stormy day, the sky blotted out by ominous black thunderheads which housed God's infernal wrath to Satan's wretched urchins. The bolts of his fury waited inside their vessels, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. Low rumbles of their anticipation grumbled through the plains and forests, dying out before it could warn the small village I decided to hide in. For the first time, I wasn't thirsty. The very thought of blood made my mouth sticky and pasty. I could go for some sake but that just made my mouth soupy and vile tasting. Is there an end to the infernal tortures?

I remained beneath a patch of trees in dense shadow, plotting on every detail to make that bitch suffer. Maybe I could lure her away from everyone (which wouldn't be hard for I noticed that women seemed seduced by me without me doing anything) and shave off her flesh with my sword and leave her to rot and writhe in the dirt. Or, I could creep into her room while she was asleep, kneel on her bed like an INCUBUS and wait for her to wake up, and when she did, I'd cut narrow slits on her lower lids and rip apart that pretty face. I decided if I wanted any revenge, I would have to find out where the fuck she was first… I got up and began walking around through town.

After a few hours of biting my lip from the intense pain of burning from the sun, I found or learned nothing of the whereabouts of Miss Heterochromatic. I stopped on a corner to contemplate on what do to next when my ears picked up on a conversation a few feet from where I stood.

"Beautiful eyes," a man breathed dreamily, "I've never seen anything like them before."

I wonder…

"What made them different from the rest?" Another man asked, clearly skeptical.

"They were different; each a different color!"

It was! Yes, keep talking my little rat catcher…

"You were probably just seeing things."

"No! I wasn't! One eye was the deepest shade of green I'd ever seen! And the other was as blue as the clear waters of the sea. I could've stared into them forever…"

"What's her name?"

I listened closely. "Um…I don't remember…"

FOOL!

"She just began talking to me; asking me if I knew the Battousai was or if I'd seen him."

"He's alive?"

Kinda…

He shrugged and continued with a troubled, mesmerized voice. "I thought he died a few months ago; or at least vanished but you never know with the imperialists; or at least that particular one." He sighed, "In any case, I wonder if this girl was connected with him in anyway?"

Yeah! The bane to my very miserable existence!

"What? She's probably some whore who had his child."

I had to shudder at that; the thought of that bitch having my child was utterly sickening.

"She did not look like any hooker!" He hissed sharply, "Besides, the look in her eyes was…intense. She looked deeply angry…"

Since I wasn't getting any useful information, I decided to step in, momentarily forgetting about my scar. "Excuse me…" I began with an oily voice. The two turned towards me and jumped with a mix of shock and fear.

"Battousai—" they stuttered at the same time.

I nodded and offered them a shallow bow. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation of Hetero—" I paused and quickly thought of a name, "Sakura…?" I offered, hoping they wouldn't catch my lie.

The man who had first brought her up spoke timidly. "Y-yes sir."

"She is looking for me?" I couldn't hide a smirk.

The second man arched an eyebrow at me. "Yes, sir, she is." The first said, completely oblivious to the grin on my lips.

"Did she say where she was going?"

"No sir."

I growled. Their muscles stiffened in fear that I would slice them in half. "Did you see which way she went?"

He reflected back to their meeting, carefully going every detail. His friend behind him began to become nervous under my stone glare and started to move anxiously. "I believe she went north…" the man said carefully, "From the florist's corner shop."

Excellent; he didn't give me that much information, but it was enough to get an idea on where she was going. "Thank you, gentlemen," I said quietly. I gave them a shallow bow and pushed past them, slipping a few yen in his hand for his help. My eyes glittered with the reflection of the gruesome thoughts of ripping her gorgeous body into bloody shreds. I'll make her pain… I'll make her cry and beg for the death of a maggot.

I stopped in front of the florist's shop and shut my eyes in concentration. The Voices murmured enchanted versus in my mind and deliberated on further actions. My sense of smell flared and scouted out for her smell; any odor, even the faintest, would lead to her demise. I waited, ignoring the eyes drilling into my skull as people walked by, glancing at me with caution. Suddenly, the Voices screamed and shrieked, snapping my eyes open and telling me to run forward; she wasn't too far ahead, no more than a few miles. I tore off through the town like a blur, shoving people out of the way and into random objects lining the streets.

I leaped into the trees in the forest and bounded from branch to branch, ignoring the numbing cuts and scrapes the branches inflicted me was I brushed by. Her scent was getting stronger; I could taste her. My lips tingled with the thought of her blood dripping in luscious, warm drops. My fingers twitched and throbbed with the urge to dig into her soft neck and disembowel her through her throat and digging my nails into her cheeks to peel off her face in neat and fine threads. How DARE she brand me?

I came to an abrupt stop just at the edge of the forest and gazed upon a small town with gray buildings with black smoke rising from a chimney. The Voices screamed and sweltered as my eyes scanned each building, trying to see any infrared body heat that would lead me to my prey. My ears listened for the faintest sound of footsteps on the gravel, the softest swish of clothing, and even the gentlest sound of a heartbeat thumbing deep within a ribcage. I could feel her there, somewhere, but all I detected was the scratching of rats inside a stone wall and then—a flicker of red dashed before my infrared vision and disappeared. Found her… I smirked and raced off to find her.

I dashed through the long, dry grass to the dirt of the small town and scanned the area. It was a quaint little town but it would give anyone in their right mind a nightmare. Buildings modeled in Western fashion slouched to one side with wooden roves singed black with holes in the walls and windows and doors boarded up. Grass grew wildly in dead patches and covered walkways to the front door and devoured the rotting wood of picket fences. To the far northwest of the town was a large black iron gate with metal bars twisted and twined above a gate to spell out 'Cemetery'. The gate creaked back and forth in the wind and made a shiver run down my spine. Headstones within it were demolished and tilted into awkward angles as beautiful statues crumbled to rubble and mausoleums gave warning of caving in on the spot. Beside the cemetery was the creepiest looking church every to be constructed. It was narrow and tall with a tower steeping high into the air with a rusted black bell hanging in a chamber. The stained glass windows were broken or reflected intricate designs on the lawn before it. Inside, you could see the dust hang suspended in the air from the narrow strips of light that seeped through. The whole place had an eerie, evil feel to it. Why Heterochromatic would hide here, I would never know. Was she trying to lure me in?

I stepped forward, jumping over the rotting fence and carefully approached the front doors. Aware that I was on holy ground, I wondered if I should just wait outside for her to come out but when I reached up and grabbed the door handle and felt no agonizing burn, I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Still, no punishment from God forced me out of His house… the church was obviously abandoned by God or was never meant to worship him. I walked along the creaky floor boards down the aisle between the pews. Several of them had scattered pages of hymns thrown about the seats with the legs broken on one side causing them to slant to one side. At the very back of the church was a small podium bathed in a circle of light from the magnificent stained glass window behind it. The window was designed to look like a man in a white tunic with a red sash draping around him with a circlet of light around his head. I raised an eyebrow at it and assumed it had to do with a Western religion.

"Come out; come out wherever you are…" I said quietly with amusement lacing my voice, "I can see you hiding…" I casually left out that I didn't know where she was hiding but I knew she was in the building.

There was a rush of steps and a soft gust of wind to my left. I whirled around just in time to see a pale arm tuck itself behind a gothic looking statue of a veiled lady cradling an infant. I casually slid over there and jumped atop the statue and gazed down at the narrow spaces between the wall and the statue: there she was. Her back pressed against the wall, chest heaving up and down with her little heart thumping away in my ears. Her right hand was folding against her chest with a wooden stake tightly in her grasp in a silver cross hanging around her neck. I chuckled darkly to myself, debating on if I should just stay perched and watch her until she notices me or if I should ease her anxiety and show myself before her. I decided to make her sweat awhile.

I stared at the top of her glossy black head, trying to breech the security system that enveloped her mind to see what she was thinking. I poked and pressed at every little spot but to no avail. I frowned: I never met anyone with advanced barriers around her mind. She must be one paranoid chick…

I finally pressed a weak point in her mind and immediately dove in with thousands of thoughts rushing to my ears in her gentle voice.

Where is he? Did he leave? No I can still feel him; but where? Does he know where I am? Why doesn't he just show up? Oh god… please god, protect me through this fight…

I cackled softly to myself; she was afraid. I indulged deeper into the wells of her mind.

Stay calm, Athame, don't be frightened…

"That's a lovely name…" I said aloud, not able to contain myself anymore, "Athame…"

She looked up to see my eyes pierce through hers. Shock painted itself on her face as she dove out from the narrow space and backed up into a pew. "How do you know my name?" She asked; her voice strong but her eyes frightened.

"I read your thoughts," I sat down on the statue and kicked my legs softly of the side, "You're terrified."

The look of outrage on her countenance was priceless. "HOW DARE YOU ENTER MY MIND?" She bellowed, squeezing her hands into tightly balled fists.

I jumped down from the statue and loomed over her darkly. "HOW DARE YOU BRAND MY BEAUTIFUL FACE?" I thrust a finger at the scar dominating my cheek with newfound rage ripping in my dead vessels.

To my surprise, instead of quaking with fear of my closeness and temper, she laughed. "Beautiful?" She cackled, "You're a bit vain for an animated corpse."

That was the completely wrong thing to say. The muscles in my hand stiffened as I slapped the back side of my hand across her cheek, sending her flying back and breaking a few pews in half. A pained groan followed by a string of fluid profanities slipped through the air. I was at her side in an instant and grabbed the front of her shirt to hoist her up in the air.

"You have a lot of nerve to speak to me like you do," I hissed, feeling the skin on my face stretch and thick veins bulge out from under my translucent flesh, "I will enjoy your demise!" Blood drizzled down from the corner of her mouth as she struggled to keep her eyes open. She felt limp in my grasp as if I had paralyzed her entire body.

I put my hand up to her cheek, running my finger down her jaw and traced her chin. "Pretty girl…" I breathed, "It's a shame; if I absolutely didn't hate everything about you; I wouldn't mind biting you and making you eternal with me…"

She glared at me and sputtered, "Fuck yourself, Devil." She growled and spat in my face.

Forgetting her enchanting face once again, my anger flared out like a phoenix. "Vile wretch," I boomed, placing my fingers beneath her left eye, "Filthy heathen! How dare you?" Slowly, I dug my nails into her soft flesh until blood dispersed from the punctures and drizzled down her cheeks, drawing a stifled yelp of pain. I could tell she was in more agony then she lead on. "I will rip you tonight!" I ran my fingers deeper into her face and tore down leisurely, severing her cheek in several pieces with large strips of flesh hanging from my fingernails. A tortured shriek tore from her pale lips and danced in my brain as the Voices cheered for more.

"God will protect me!" She screamed as her hands flung to my shoulders in attempt to push me off.

I laughed wickedly and tore my nails out then let her drop listlessly on the floor. "Oh my dear," I began suavely and delivered a nice hard kick of my foot into her torso, feeling a few ribs separate in two, "God has abandoned you." I grabbed her by the front of her shirt once more, intentionally breaking through her skin, and hoisted her up until she was just an inch or so away from my face. "You're cast from His love…" With half of my strength, I propelled her into a support beam on the opposite side of the church, causing the beam to splinter in two and the portion of the ceiling it was supporting to cave in on top of her. I glided swiftly over to her, kicking all of the boards aside and picked her up by her shoulders. Her head hung loosely about her shoulders as her body made an attempt to weigh me down from limp muscles. She moaned softly and struggled to lift her head. I decided to help her out a bit and lifted her chin to look at me and was greeted by the most evil glare I believe I had ever seen.

"You will burn in Hell, Battousai." She gasped, expelling blood from her mouth and cheek. My muscles stiffened; oh how her blood smelled so good. I felt my incisors lengthen without my consent in anticipation of tasting her. Oh how I wanted to indulge in her luscious veins and empty her body of the sweet liquid that made her so warm. But I couldn't! That would give her the easy way out… I wanted her to suffer not to be immortal.

I kept staring into her gorgeous heterochromatic eyes, entranced in their hypnotic enigma. Did I want to kill her? What if I bit her and she would be mine? A gorgeous slave to the darkness forever on my arm…

NO! the Voices hissed, THE BITCH DIES! SHE DIES! SHE DIES! KILL HER! RIP HER! SHRED HER! BLEED HER! SHE DIES! SHE DIES! SHE DIES! KILL HER! KILL HER NOW!

Yes! They were right! The bitch needs to die! After all she's done she dies tonight! "I may burn, my lady," I growled with utter revulsion, "But I will burn happily with knowing you were slaughtered by the battousai." I tossed her back against the statue of the woman and the baby. "You will regret ever waltzing with me." I lunged at her, landing on the wall beside her and perched with my nails embedded into the wood. My jaw dropped at least five times its normal length and expelled a high pitched shriek, a low, rumbling growl, and a normal scream out all in one with my teeth expanding to at least five inches. Terror wrote itself in five forms all over her face. She made an attempt to scramble away but the weakness of her legs made it impossible. All that she could do was to wait for her demise.

I leapt at her, placing my arms on either side of her and took one final look at the blue and green eyes that had be under her spell. "Enjoy eternity, Athame." Then, I ripped my katana from its sheath and slashed out her chest, spraying an array of blood droplets everywhere and a splatter on the face of the statue. Her arm shot up to grasp my forearm, then, lifelessly, fell to the floor.

I stared at her mangled corpse and into the graying eyes that stared back at me, terrified and beautiful. Pity, I thought, she would've made a lovely "bride." Placing my index and middle fingers on both eyes, I closed her eyelids and stood up. My eyes wandered the forsaken church as my mind brooded. This wasn't a church, if it were; I would've burned upon jumping over the gate, there was no way it could be a house of God. Perhaps it was a fake; designed to draw in weary Christian travelers to pray when they were really walking into a trap and were killed. Whatever its purpose, I didn't feel like brooding over it any longer. I took one last glance at Athame, my dreaded hunter, and left, flicking my sword sharply with my wrist to clean it off of blood and shoved it back in its sheath.

The sun was down. The sky was black; there were no stars and there was no moon. A suppressing fog slithered its way through the abandoned village and settled with an unsettling presence. I quickly left, not knowing why I felt so uncomfortable in its haze. I needed to leave; I was hungry, and I needed a feast.

I am SO sorry about my lack of updating. I have been in an inspiring mood for writing, but it was all for different genres. Vampires in modern times but none in 1800s Japan. Sorry 'bout that, so thank Rachee-Chan for this chapter. If it weren't for her bugging me on AIM to write and give her spoilers, this probably wouldn't have gotten up anytime soon. YAY FOR RACHEE CHAN! Oh, and go check out her stories; she has vonderfull ideas for 'Midnight Cherry's Blossom'.

Anyway, I wasn't quite sure what to do with this chapter. I was going to make it where Kenshin is gathering information on Athame aka "Heterochromatic" but I wanted something gruesome. If you die-hard Japanese culture fanatics are saying "WAIT! Athame isn't a japanese name you ghoulish whore!" Well, its true. I was trying to find a perfect name for her so I looked up some Pagan terms and discovered "athame" whichis A witches black handled ritual knife. It is never used to cut anything. It is used to direct energy and occasionally to scribe runes and other symbols into candles. It is also used to dip into water to represent the union of the Goddess and the God in the great rite. The Magick knife. Yeah... anyway

Pardon any offence that you may have expierenced. It was unintentional and I am not out to piss anyone off; at least through my writing. If I were, I'd make it clear, lol.

Plutobaby494: thank you. hee hee, I keep writing for people like you.

ELLIE31773: OO was it that bad?

KenjisGirl: danke!

Ame Ulan: Yeah, I noticed that too; neato spell check. I was all "TOTALLY NEATO!" lol. thank you! It's always nice to hear that someone likes my dark stories. lol. No, I don't read Anne Rice. I made an attempt to read "Vittorio(sp)" but that put me to sleep on the second page XD.

Minoru Kimori: you're odd, jessie... lol love ya, chick