Uragiri

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I tried to walk it off. I knew it never worked but, what the hell, it took the edge away at least. The rush of memories from that Monjack female had been more than I had expected. It’d been a while since I came across any of her kind and I’d forgotten how openly they expressed their pain in their own void. Fucking morbid race, sometimes I was glad to be Chantille, at least my kind hid their secrets. Living around a race of cold, mind reading assholes meant you knew how to put up a pretty damn good ‘get the hell out of my mind’ sign. Guess they didn’t have that problem being Monjack’s. I snorted, the perfect sex machines and ruthless killers that thought and cared about nothing but their own pleasure, bundled in a package pretty enough to tempt thieves into losing an arm or two to get one. She’d been kidnapped at the fifteenth moon cycle celebration after her birth and sold to the man next door, whose name played over and over in my head.



Sasori.



He’d burned the letters of his name into her flesh their first night together, watching in morbid curiosity at how the wounds healed, and new skin formed to erase the evidence his hot iron inflicted. Her name took longer to come to me, and it did so only after I’d dug deeper into a lost memory she didn’t want me to see. Her name was Tsukiko and…well fuck, she’d been a damn high priestess of Anon.



I snorted, and had to stop myself from doubling over in laughter. A high priestess of Anon, God of Childbirth, and she’d had me abort her child. I rubbed my eyes as the sting started and her tears ran down my face, flashes of torture and abuse racing in my mind. I forced them back, not daring to let her memories make me feel any pity for her connection to that piss poor excuse for a god. A particular scene kept repeating itself like a mantra.



She was kneeling in glass, the gouges deep, and as her skin healed, the small pieces got sealed behind her flesh. They dug into her muscles, heightening the pain. Her face had been slashed across her forehead and blood leaked into her eyes, blinding her. Sasori laid his hand on her back pushing her forward until her head rested against the carpet. In the memory I could only hear the rustling of his boots and feel a strangely warm object placed into her anus. Searing pain made me gag as I realized the bastard had poured hot tea into her, searing the skin in its path. He stood up and began to unzip his pants when I pulled myself from the memory, disconnecting from her void that had been left inside me.



Her pain had congealed creating its own void. Normally a person would emit energy or power they willingly released creating a void and this could be felt by other beings. For her pain alone to have created a separate void meant that she’d bottled herself away and then shoved the darkest part of her pain and anger into me when I’d taken his mark from her.





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I cleared my mind, having returned home to cleanse my own essence of the void that had invaded me. She’d been there, standing at my door with an arrogant smirk on her lips. I passed her easily and went into my own apartment, ignoring the constant pounding at my door. The shattering of my deadbolt, however, made me get up. It was her of course, covered in dried blood, her feet staining my carpet as she walked to have a seat on my couch. My eyes flashed white, a growl rippling through my chest and she stilled. Her shiver was expected after the years of training Sasori had conditioned into her body.



“What do you want? I freed you, now leave.”



“Do not be so foolish Traitor, you know where I stand.” She hissed.



I would have shoved her back out my door, but we both knew she had nowhere to go and would be killed for her crime of killing an innocent. I watched as she walked to my bathroom, still flinching at her own movements. She had the pride of a peacock and I knew she’d never let her emotional pain show through on her face. It made sense, after being tortured for years, that she would bury any and all of those memories away. She pushed her anger out and into the act of killing Sasori, leaving behind anything, including the parts of her time there, with his decaying body.



She took over two hours to get dressed before coming back out swathed in my favorite white robe and cream colored slacks. They hung low on her hips and she had tied the middle of the robe loosely. Her hair shined a brilliant teal and I could see the mark of an Anon high priestess on her upper chest, a dark navy spiral lined with gold. Her facial features were flawless, a present from Anon, blessing all his high priestesses with uncompromising beauty.



“If you’re going to be here, I’ll expect payment.”



“Traitor, I will not speak to you while in that form.”



I looked at myself and was almost surprised at my still human looking body. I’d made myself a typical looking guy with short brown hair and no distinctive markings. It’d taken so long for me to get a spell that worked properly to cover up all my markings that I’d drop the spell the second my door closed. I let the disguise fall, rolling my eyes as she began to appreciate my body with her gaze. Her body sent out a scent that she was ready to mate, hungry for a taste of sex after the bloodlust her recent killing had driven her to. I easily declined.



“I’m not fucking you. And my name is Shin. Use it or…”



“Or what traitor? Will you turn me in and let yourself be captured?” She laughed.



I let silence linger in the air, my body barely moving with each breath. Slowly the temperature dropped and I looked at her then the blood on my carpet. She followed my gaze flying backwards into the wall as I forced her void of pain fully onto her. I stood over her, my eyes cold.



“Exiled or not High Priestess, I am still a prince. Far more powerful than you and lest we forget I just saved your pitiful existence from a fate worse than death. I could crush you now without a thought, do NOT forget that.” I stated, deadly and unmoving.



She shivered, then turned her head, moving her hair to show me the back of her neck. It shimmered for a moment before light orange scales rippled in her show of submission. I pressed my finger against it, and she arched in pleasure at having been accepted with a touch far more pleasant than she’d had in a while. Her whine rang in my ears, low and seductive, calling to my senses. Her hand had untied her robe leaving it open for me to see the creamy expanse of skin inside. She turned, slowly, revealing her body to me and leaned up to lick at my neck. Her whine was cut short by a cry of pain as I ripped away from her.



Electricity shot up my spine, pain lacing and searing the saliva she had left on my skin. My body pulsed and I cursed loudly.



“You are taken.” She said, horrified.



“No...”



I choked out the word as my vision swam and I doubled over to collect my mind. Images flooded my memory. Black hair brushing against my cheek, heated, forced kisses, powerful hands, vibrant eyes. It was him, whose name I could not speak. Not now.



Never.



But especially now, when I was sure he was sensing my body’s call to his. She stared openly at me and I knew exactly what she could see. My mark. A small symbol unrecognizable but to me and him. Don’t say his name damn it! Don’t call to him, let your body be your own!!!



My screams ripped from my chest as I dug my claws into the mark, stopping only when she placed her hand on my forehead pouring in healing energy. It was enough and we panted together as she stared at me, the mark fading away. She knew more about me now than anyone I had met in the last 100 years. She could be dangerous. She could be…



“We need to leave. Your…He will be coming for you.” She said this as she gathered herself.



“I can go on my own.”



“I cannot.” She stated this without pride, it was a pure fact.



She was powerful, but she had never been an outcast, had never been alone. She’d been forced to leave her home late enough to know she would die or be condemned if she went back, and then had been sheltered under a glass cage for too long to know how to interact with the world around her. I cursed again and went to my room, gathering a few things. I went back into the living room as she reappeared at the door, a duffel bag that was not mine in her hands.



“I refuse to take his head with us.” I snarled.



“Traitor I am taking provisions. Food stuffs and money, the corpse has no use of them”



She said this with an air of superiority even though I could tell by her scent of fear that stepping back into Sasori’s apartment had scared her.



“You ever been to Nosoku’s Isle?”



Her blank stare bore into mine and I realized that she’d probably never been even as far my apartment next door in years. I exhaled and drew my void into me pushing forward the spell for my disguise before pouring the spell into her. She rejected it immediately.



“You’re going to need to disguise yourself.” I said.



“And if I refuse?”



“We’ll go to Nosoku’s Isle, but on the way you’ll be captured, taken to your home land, and brutally killed for your sins.”



She frowned and let the spell engulf her. Her hair turned blonde and the markings on her body faded, her ears shifting to become normal human ears. Her eyes blinked, disgusted with the changes, and we headed out of the door into the cool night air.



“Where the fuck is Nosoku’s Isle anyway?” She hissed.











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