Half-truths Prequel
Oct. 16th, 2005 08:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
poisonangelCharacters: OOC Anissina, evilYozak and a glimpse of their Conrad
Rated: R
Revenge. Mercy. Foolishness. Honor. Love. Hate.
There were many reasons she had traveled to Dai Shimeron and at the same time there was only one: Conrad. She even found him. She slipped past their defenses and straight into the heart of the lion’s den without anyone being the wiser. She could have killed him and left again without any complications.
And, honestly, it wasn’t until that moment when she saw those warm, brown eyes again that she knew she could never do that. She asked him to go back with her. And for a moment, just one brief, precious moment, she honestly believed he would. It was ridiculous. He would be killed on sight if they returned to Shin Makoku. But that theory would never be tested.
The next, and last, thing she remembered was Conrad looking past her and saying “Yozak.”
She couldn’t be sure how long she had been there--tied to a chair, poisoned with Maryoku, and taunted by a lunatic. Her patience had worn down to a fine powder that each breath he took blew away.
“What the hell do you want? You’ve already taken everything--power, wealth, and all the whores you can traumatize. What else could you possibly want, you sick fuck?” Her body was weak and broken, but the fire still burned brightly in her sapphire eyes.
“What else? Why, Ani, are you trying to get in here?” He tapped his head a couple of times and looks down at the bound woman with a twisted smile. “But you are too lazy to figure it out on your own, I see. You want the guided tour.” He nods and gently runs his hands through her loose, red hair as he speaks. “Fine, but no refunds if you don’t like the attractions.”
Each touch sends a shudder of revulsion through her body. She can feel his fingertips playing with the fine hairs at the base of her neck. It felt good and that in turn made her feel ill.
“What the hell do I want? That is what you asked in your refined, upper-level Mazoku way, isn’t it? Then again, I suppose vulgarity shouldn’t be surprising coming from someone who has been slumming it with a mongrel most of her life.”
His hands fisted in her hair and he jerked her head backward against a steel bar. “I want my family back!”
He released his grip and walked in front of her, watching her closely as blood trickled over her lip where she bit herself. “All better now? Does the world seem so much more beautifully in focus? Can you almost hear the laughing children and rows of---“
“Do you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?” she interrupted even if it would only bring her a moment of peace.
“No, not really. But thanks for asking. You’ve been a wonderful guest. I think it is time for your parting gift.” Without another word, he picked up her sword and sliced a gash in her left arm. Then another. And another. Then he dropped the sword and started to play with matches and houseki, all concentrated on that one spot on her upper left arm.
She held the screams off for a while, longer than he expected or would have liked, but that just made it sweeter when he finally tore them from her throat. But the screams were nothing compared to the hoarse whimpering that followed. And then the sweet release of cold, empty, blackness as her consciousness spiraled away from the immense physical pain. But even that peace was short-lived. He would wake her again in a few hours and the games would renew themselves.
Rated: R
Revenge. Mercy. Foolishness. Honor. Love. Hate.
There were many reasons she had traveled to Dai Shimeron and at the same time there was only one: Conrad. She even found him. She slipped past their defenses and straight into the heart of the lion’s den without anyone being the wiser. She could have killed him and left again without any complications.
And, honestly, it wasn’t until that moment when she saw those warm, brown eyes again that she knew she could never do that. She asked him to go back with her. And for a moment, just one brief, precious moment, she honestly believed he would. It was ridiculous. He would be killed on sight if they returned to Shin Makoku. But that theory would never be tested.
The next, and last, thing she remembered was Conrad looking past her and saying “Yozak.”
She couldn’t be sure how long she had been there--tied to a chair, poisoned with Maryoku, and taunted by a lunatic. Her patience had worn down to a fine powder that each breath he took blew away.
“What the hell do you want? You’ve already taken everything--power, wealth, and all the whores you can traumatize. What else could you possibly want, you sick fuck?” Her body was weak and broken, but the fire still burned brightly in her sapphire eyes.
“What else? Why, Ani, are you trying to get in here?” He tapped his head a couple of times and looks down at the bound woman with a twisted smile. “But you are too lazy to figure it out on your own, I see. You want the guided tour.” He nods and gently runs his hands through her loose, red hair as he speaks. “Fine, but no refunds if you don’t like the attractions.”
Each touch sends a shudder of revulsion through her body. She can feel his fingertips playing with the fine hairs at the base of her neck. It felt good and that in turn made her feel ill.
“What the hell do I want? That is what you asked in your refined, upper-level Mazoku way, isn’t it? Then again, I suppose vulgarity shouldn’t be surprising coming from someone who has been slumming it with a mongrel most of her life.”
His hands fisted in her hair and he jerked her head backward against a steel bar. “I want my family back!”
He released his grip and walked in front of her, watching her closely as blood trickled over her lip where she bit herself. “All better now? Does the world seem so much more beautifully in focus? Can you almost hear the laughing children and rows of---“
“Do you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?” she interrupted even if it would only bring her a moment of peace.
“No, not really. But thanks for asking. You’ve been a wonderful guest. I think it is time for your parting gift.” Without another word, he picked up her sword and sliced a gash in her left arm. Then another. And another. Then he dropped the sword and started to play with matches and houseki, all concentrated on that one spot on her upper left arm.
She held the screams off for a while, longer than he expected or would have liked, but that just made it sweeter when he finally tore them from her throat. But the screams were nothing compared to the hoarse whimpering that followed. And then the sweet release of cold, empty, blackness as her consciousness spiraled away from the immense physical pain. But even that peace was short-lived. He would wake her again in a few hours and the games would renew themselves.
