Another day that may only be a dream, A KuramaXOC
By: ~Pinkbun17~
Re-edited: 12/11/20
***Warnings of gore, violence, and possible lime.
Disclaimer: I don't own YYH.
Youko's Thoughts: ^Enter random subject here? ^
Kurama speaking to Youko in his head/his own thoughts: *Enter further argument here. *
Inner thoughts of other characters: 'Quote Quote Quote!'
Chapter 10: Misery and Torment VS Sanity and Courage Part II
(DAY ONE) 4:33 pm
Aisha's POV:
"Did ya miss me Miss Aisha?" He grins crookedly, and hoots vulgarly. "'Cause I missed you quite dearly."
'Just drop dead already you fucking monster! I have to think of something fast...'
Before he steps any closer, I choke out "Y-you never answered my question!"
He pauses as if to ponder, "Oh? And what was your question?"
"You're not the real Kurama are you?" I pause and take a deep breath while gradually cutting at my bounds as discreetly as I can. "Since you're not, then w-who are you?"
He simply sneers as if he's keeping a dirty secret all to himself.
"Of course, I'm the real Kurama, or ya wouldn't be in pain right now!" Once again, his cackle burns in my ears, like the sound of a car with a broken brake system trying to slow down but only ends up speeding into a metal death trap. In other words, as much as I want to, I can't plug my ears to spare myself the anguish. I dare myself to ask my attacker something else, and I am truly hoping he will give me a straightforward answer.
"Why did you give me a demon truth-seed thing?" My voice is shaking a bit, but it isn't as bad as my trembling hands hurriedly trying to cut away at the tight binds.
"I was told to use it if you got too much ta handle, guess it came in handy." He chuckles and adds; "I thought for sure you'd die in your sleep 'cause even most lower-class demons gradually die within a few hours. This kind of rare seed ain't something to just show off with."
"W-what kind of rare seed? What's it supposed to do?" I press, still fearful he might notice what I'm up to.
"Don't know much 'bout plants or seeds, but I think it can awaken power." He replies as if he is talking to me on equal terms.
He seems to have calmed down and shockingly hasn't attacked me yet. I decide to press on.
"Kurama is an expert when it comes to demon and human plants, s-so who are you really?" I pause and take a breath; "Please tell me, was the real Kurama ever even here?"
He smirks slightly, "Guess it won't hurt to tell ya my name. I'm Aiden, a shift-shaping demon."
"A wha-?" I ask, not hearing him right.
"A shift-shaping demon. I can take the form of any living being I please, and even mimic their voice."
"You don't sound like him at all. You may have his tone, but you don't have his style." I say as if to insult him.
"Tck, like I give a damn, I look like him, don't I?"
"Uh..." I mutter, still trying to cut at these hard-ass binds. "Not really..."
'Your eyes are dead looking, your hair's duller than a dirty whiteboard and your clothes are a little different than what he was wearing earlier... Yeah you look just like him-No.' I think in thick sarcasm.
"I only took this idiotic form in hopes of getting you alone, and what do ya know, it worked pretty freakin' well!" Aiden cackles and the urge to maul his face stirs in me but is contained by the fact that I'm still trying to chop these binds off...
"Besides, I knew ya had feelings for the fox, how pathetic."
"N-no I don't! It's not pathetic to admire someone! Besides he's not real!" I shout, my voice breaking again.
'This just has to be another dream...a nightmare!'
"Oh, but Miss Aisha, he is, or at least he was." Aiden once again starts to giggle monstrously like the bitch he is.
I abruptly discontinue cutting at the binds, and bewilderment storms up within me, for a moment- I'm speechless.
"You FUCKING LIAR!" I shriek furiously, and Aiden is taken back by my voice.
"There's no need to scream like that, Miss Aisha; it ain't very lady-like."
"This kind of stuff doesn't happen in real life, only in anime!" I screech at him, and think;
'Then again, how do I explain what this freak is, and what happened during morning break with those plants...?'
As the weight of this hits me again, I ask; "Where's the real Kurama?!"
He completely ignores my question.
"Ya know for a human, you ain't that dreadful."
I stare at him like he's some kind of crazy-ass freak.
'Oh wait. He is one.'
"What the hell does that have to do with anything?!"
He only laughs and twirls strands of my wavy hair with his left pointing finger.
I bite down on my lip to keep myself from spitting at him again, and probe again.
"Wait-when did you switch with him, and where is he?!"
He leers creepily and declares; "If only you weren't a human, I'd probably take ya as my mate."
"Answer me damn it!"
'Oh, my freakin' god, and here I thought this couldn't get any worse...This monster is trying to hit on me...I think.'
"Just after you ran away from him, and went into your 6th period, he played into my hands; it was pretty pathetic how easily he fell."
'Guess I did meet the real Kurama... what a way for a dream to come true...'
I'm still hoping this whole day was a sweet dream gone sour, but it's not. As disoriented and terrified as I am, I start to grind my teeth in fury, and if I could- I would ball my hands into fists and sock him in the mouth, knocking his shitty teeth into his stomach. (My father's favorite kind of threat)
"Did Y-you kill him!?" I screech again, I can't hold back the few tears that are streaming down my face again.
He doesn't answer my question again and goes on to babble about more crazy crap.
"At first, I was planning to kill ya and take your power, which I was gonna go through with...'till I was punished for it. But you see I was given another chance, boss and big brother are so kind..."
"I told you I don't have any stupid power!" I add-in, but he brushes it off.
"After boss found out I got ya, he granted me some quality time with you, and you'll be headin' out with him."
"To w-where?" I ask, terror and apprehension once again starts to gag me.
"Demon world."
My jaw drops and my eyes are the size of dinner plates, no way in hell I'd survive...even if I did somehow escape, Demon world's atmosphere would consume my existence.
Before my mind can form anything of human intelligence, I notice Aiden's eyes flash again, between, dull green and murky red. If only I could rub my eyes clear, but my hands are occupied being bound and all.
'Seriously, this rope or whatever must be from another world if I still can't break through it.'
He suddenly groans and clutches at his head, worming away from me. While he's shrieking, I'm STILL cutting at the retarded binds, a lot speedier now. Thankfully, he doesn't notice, and they finally feel like they're lazing on their wicked grip. As I furiously slice and 'dice' at these infuriating ties, I peek at Aiden and my eyes latch on to the strangest flickering in his eyes, sadness.
Tears make themselves known, in his now grayish-red eyes. The color isn't the thing that freaks me out so much; it's the dejection and utter hollowness, and the red circling around his irises.
"No! I don't want to do this anymore!" He unexpectedly hollers, crumbling to the filthy floor.
Here I am kidnapped, beat, tortured, poisoned, and tied up by this senseless ass-clown who I almost feel sorry for. What the heck is wrong with me!?
"Give me my life! Let me go..." He moans deeply in waterworks.
He gives off the impression that he's forgotten my presence and I continue with my slice and dice routine. Out of nowhere, he bounces up from his cradle position, his eyes still teary and ludicrous. The words that pop out of his mouth heaves me in an additional rotation of confusion.
"You have to get outta here! Hurry-please-He's going to-" He once again starts clutching at his head and howls in distress.
"H-he's going to what?" I ask, frantic. "Who?!" But he doesn't answer my question.
A few moments later he stops clutching at his head and quits his insane ramblings. Instead, he stands up straight and acts as if nothing has happened.
"Now, where were we?" He leers creepily and I conclude this demon is fucked up in the head.
'Well, if he kills me, and ever goes to court, he can just make a plea of insanity...best of all he won't be fully convicted...Haha!' I bitterly joke to myself.
The closer he paces towards me, the higher my anxiety rises, now it's at level extreme GTFO (Get The Fuck OUT)!
'This guy's beyond losing his marbles!'
Again, this crazy maniac is magically holding another knife, and just when he's about to slash at me, that ancient phone rings again. Judging from the sound, it might be a phone from the '70s.
The only reason I can guess is that my dad has a similar sounding unique phone that I messed with when I was younger. Aiden races out of the crappy room so rapidly- I was hoping he'd be a dumbass, drop the knife and trip on it and die, but nope...he doesn't-damn! At this point I only focus on chopping up these snake-like binds, but my body adores reminding me of its torment. I'm even tempted to yell at my body to stop whining.
Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ-Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ-Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ-Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ-Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ-Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ
Finally, after what seems like hours, the binding snaps, and I then slash at the rope snarled around the base of my ankles. I can't help but to twinge in pain as one of them throbs meanly, reminding me of that malicious hole back at the football field that latched itself to my foot. A few minutes later the second pair of bindings come apart, taking me by surprise considering the amount of time the first ones took to break. Strangely, the knife falls apart in my hand and crumbles to dust.
'So much for using it as a weapon…'
I begin to step quietly towards the slightly open stained bedroom door. The stupid thing creaks a little, and I stop breathing raggedly to listen in and peer into the hallway.
'Coast is clear, run bitch run!'
Though if I do run, he'll hear my footsteps on these creaky floorboards, and slaughter me faster. I instead try my best to tiptoe...sort of. My body cries out in agony constantly, but it's my dizziness and stabbing ankle pain that's making it hard to tip-toe properly. The entire time my head spins, and I attempt to search for an exit, stumbling and even crawling after a while.
The eerie hallway only seems to get lengthier, after what feels like years, I'm finally near an ugly brown door frame. I dare to peek in, still crawling on my hands and knees.
"Yes, boss that will be fun to try out on her..."
Rooted in place by fright, I will myself to glance again. Mr. Insane Happy Knife is standing with his back facing the door, seemingly looking out a foul filthy window. The room is bare, minus brown stains plastered to peeling green walls, and it smells less like shit than the room I was in.
He does not sound very happy as he mutters into the yellowing telephone. The cord is more stretched out then a normal curled one would be... The thought of him strangling someone with it sends more chills up my spine. Thankfully, I can't see his face, but what he mutters next nearly blows my 'cover'.
"I see this little mortal always hangin' with two other weak human females, they will be easy to capture and torment." He laughs wickedly. "They'll be the first ones that I'll experiment with. Oh, and those three little ones; their screams will be very delightful. Shall I drown them in boiling demon blood?"
My blood simmers, but my body is icy as it hits me-This bastard will go after everyone I care about, starting with my best friends and little siblings...
'If only he wasn't so damn strong... I need to think of a plan, or...'
Before I can finish my thought, he discontinues his disgusting cackling.
'Shit, I need to move...gotta hide...'
Crawling backward away from the door, a staircase comes into view and just might be my ticket out of this hell hole. Too bad the only way out is to go right past his door...and with this monster's speed and strength I won't have a chance... Besides, I have no idea if it does lead to an exit...or how many stairs there are, for now, it's too risky...
Becoming more frantic I wobble to a stand and rush down the hall, biting my lip and using my tippy toes to make less noise. I freeze after turning a corner and wait, halting my breathing; but my heart doesn't want to shut up.
I decide to go around looking for any other sort of exit, but I become so light-headed I mistakenly grab the knob of a random door towards the other side of the hallway. Without much thought, I open it and find it dimly lighted by whatever sunlight is coming in from the tiny browning cracked window.
I randomly focus on the ragged, stained curtains to try to get my mind off the extreme discomfort, but I collapse to the ground on my hands and knees. A horrible stench smacks me across the face and I nearly puke, so I sit up and pinch my nose shut.
As I glance around, I realize I'm in a bathroom, a filthy smashed toilet is leaking water on the yellowing tiles, pieces of glazed pottery (I think that's what it is) are scattered across the floor. A sink nearly cracked in half lays on its side, and an abandoned chipped mirror is laying vertical against whatever's left of the sink's cabinet that's covered in browning spatter stains.
I gasp as I glance in the dingy mirror. The person staring back at me reminds me of a zombie or a ghost... A bedhead that looks like it hasn't been brushed out in a while, bruising and slashes all over the body, tattered clothing with drying blood stains the skin, a paling tear-stained face clearly bashed at, and coffee-colored eyes crazed from fear and trauma.
I am looking at a stranger. This can't be me, and I gradually touch my swollen cheek trying to confirm this really isn't me. Even though it hurts, I examine the person in the mirror again and finally recognize my Bullet for my Valentine t-shirt, a huge tear ripping apart the words for, and my-my blue bra and cleavage are exposed and I feel disgusted.
'Never thought I could look so freaky and messed up, perfect for a Halloween costume...' I bitterly laugh to myself quietly, and my voice echoes a bit.
I sit here for a while, trying to think of a way outta here, but the only thing that comes to mind is getting some sort of weapon. Willing myself to stand, my legs wobble, and pain punches my entire form. Carefully I push the dirty mirror out of the way, making sure to not breathe out of my nose. I open the splinter infested yellowing doors of the sink cabinet and only find a rusty can of Island Escape scented air freshener and a dusty browning-red toilet plunger.
'Stupid title...almost like someone put it there to mock me...'
I'm beyond tempted to spray Island Escape, but I don't think that it would help mask this stench anyway.
'It stinks so bad something must have died in here!' I joke to myself.
Brushing that thought off I decide to keep searching as discreetly as I can, and head towards the nasty bathtub and its beyond moldy shower curtain, which both are also splattered with browning stains.
'I really hope that isn't what I think it is...' I comment to myself as I think about the other stains I saw already and the stupid joke I made earlier to myself...Cautiously but hastily I push the blackening curtain aside, I let out something cross between a scream and a gasp (not sure how that's even possible), and I muffle it as fast as I humanly can with my hands.
If I wasn't a horror film fan and couldn't handle TV gore, I would have bawled ten times louder, bailed the room, and have met my doom even faster. Light green eyes, torn muscles, claw slashes, and dried blood splattered all overfill my mind.
Strangle marks are 'tattooed' into the neck and his dark curly hair is grimy, portions are ripped out and bloody. What gets to me the most is the despair and anguish on his face, and how unnatural the mouth is, forever locked in an unheard cry for help, for mercy.
Tears prick at my eyes again and stream down my swollen face, I've seen this person before, and what confirms that for me is his jersey, a blue and white N being stabbed by a cartoon sword the symbol from my high school across his chest. He's older, maybe a senior (12th grader), a light-skinned lean framed black guy with a face that I won't ever forget...
Strange as it is, I can imagine this guy hitting a baseball with a steel painted bat and dashing all the way to a home run... His hopes and dreams will never have the chance to blossom... No one deserves to be tortured like this...
His entire body is clawed up and his face has a mark going across from where his left eye used to be, to the bottom of the right side of his chin. His left eye is barely dangling from whatever's left of the stringy muscle, and a huge hole in his stomach exposes missing and torn intestines. The stench hits me, and at this point being unable to unsee what I just saw, I stagger back and violently puke in the broken toilet.
'Why the hell can't I carry a gun?' I bitterly question myself, and here I thought he was only Mr. Insane Happy Knife. That just goes right out the window, now... Mr. Beyond Insane Mutilating Over-Kill Freak suits him WAY better. He needs to be stopped, by whatever means necessary, 'cause I really doubt he'll be finished anytime soon with the torture, and even though I'm just a 'weak stupid human', I know I have to do something...if only I could get these horrible images out of my head.
How am I supposed to find my courage if I can only think of this misery?
To be continued...
My notes:
9 pages, 12-inch font, and finally! I hope this time around this is actually kind of scary. :P I even feel a little sick writing this. 0-0 Thanks for sticking with me, and I hopefully update sooner this time around!
This chapter was split into 2 parts to make it easier to re-write/edit.
Peace On and Rock Out!
PS: I give thanks to my reviewers; you have no idea how much it helps!
~Pinkbun17