Author: Mahi-Mahi PM
[AU] Few creatures of the night have captured our imagination like Vampires. What explains our enduring fascination with Vampires? Is it the over tellings of sexual lust, power, control? ItaSaku, Oneshot...darkness ensues...Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Horror - Itachi U. & Sakura H. - Words: 15,508 - Reviews: 194 - Favs: 406 - Follows: 70 - Published: 12-03-06 - Status: Complete - id: 3272621
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I have a sick weakness for Dark Vampire slash Little Helpless Virgin Girl scenarios(oh, don't we all.) Over-Belated Halloween fic. Dedicated to all 'The Virus' fans who probably hate me for not updating. Warning: Lemon content, look at the rating people.
Few creatures of the night have captured our imagination like Vampires. What explains our enduring fascination with Vampires? What is it about the Vampire myth that explains our interest? Is it the over tellings of sexual lust, power, control?Or is it a fascination with the immortality of the undead? And what dark and hidden part of our Psyche are aroused and captivated by the legends of the undead?
The mystery of the undead will continue to fascinate the living.
He watches. He waits. He stalks. He hesitates. His prey. His game. His fun. His lay. His victim. His lust. His thirst. No trust. The time is well past dusk. The quench. The urge. His breakfast. His lunch. His dinner and dessert. He desires. The hunt. The charade. The thrill. The pursuit. The sport. The need. The play. The fill. The darkness of the night. His existence. The shadows. He stays. He goes. He waits. He knows. The vitality. He sees. He breathes. He is somber. He is secret. He digresses. He progresses. He is black. He is red. He is white. He is the night. It is wild. It is like playtime for a child. He must be patient. He must follow. He is there. Or is he not? It was the wind. It was not him. A move. A sift. He breathes. It lifts. The imagination. The fear. He feeds. The tears. He is fast. He is swift. He is here. He was never there to begin with. The hunger. The pain. The vein. No shame. The scent of fright. He is one with no light. They run. He follows. His lips taste. They find no sorrow. His teeth. They endure. They bite. They fight. They take delight in what is to come for sure. It is sick. So he licks. And he sucks. Blood is life. And life is blood. Now their corpses find no luck. They had no chance. In this number. With him they had to dance. His rhythm. His pace. His style. No grace. A beat. A heart. It stops. It drops. It lacks a luster. It lacks a shine. Tonight, he has dined. A cadaver. A undead. What once was living is still moving instead. His touch brings death. The blood on his tongue. Stains heavily like a dark crimson lead. It is over. It is done. He has fed. He has had little fun. He is gone. He was not there. Another body. Lying in the middle of nowhere. A life no longer remains. Another is now sustained. A mystery. A murder. A innocent that has died. A forbidding lurker. Haunting within your mind. Let it be. Dare you decide. Or leave it as just another sick homicide?
She stood in front of the class. A thick stack of papers in her hand, back ram-rod straight and shoulders stiff. The hem of her dark green skirt drifting just above her mid thigh and her pinstriped tie secured tightly around her neck.
Sakura allowed herself one glance out the tinted windows of the classroom into the red autumn sky. Her orange Jack-O-Lantern brooch sparkling over her left breast in the light of the entering sunshine.
It was her turn to read her report. She was number one in her class, honor roll and all that jazz, and they kept her in high expectations. And she reveled in the glory of it. If she kept up the good work for a few more months until her birthday came around, then she'd have the highest GPA of any sixteen-year-old girl in the history of her private school. She and the Haruno family were, of course, thrilled to hear such news. Leaving Sakura eagerly awaiting the day of her sweet sixteenth, the day when she might receive the acknowledgments she deserved.
The assignment theme for this week: Halloween, naturally. To complete in-school research at the library and computer lab and find an already existing myth. Then add a few of your own embellishments to the legend to share with your classmates when the papers were due. In doing so, the teacher had opened a door of imagination. It was simple enough. But none in the class hopped higher on the opportunity ladder like Sakura had.
Half the male population in the class chose gorish depictions of monsters, ogres and ridiculously flamboyant tales of the infamous creation of Dr. Frankenstein running amok through medieval villages drooling at the mouth and ripping villagers to shreds. And the other half of the class that belonged to the females hunted down the tales of(and this part didn't particularly surprise her) the night creature Dracula. Thanks to mainstream media, they had it imprinted in their simple heads the vampire lord Dracula, and all other male vampire in his legion of the undead, were some sort of sex gods. Hunting, seducing and ravishing innocents...and in effect getting nearly all of the feminine population wishing their own personal fantasy-induced rendition of Dracula would sneak into their rooms at night to drink her blood. Sakura was no feminist, but it was all complete bologna.
Although Sakura still chose the vampire path, she took it on from a different approach. She discovered a real life feudal tale to contort and mold into her own fictional story; a young woman from ages long past that mysteriously disappeared after going for a midnight stroll. According to the legend, she was abducted from the castle grounds where she lived. It was rumored around her village that at the source of her mysterious abduction was the 'night stalker' that had plagued the village in recent times of her disappearance. The murderer would somehow crudely inflict puncture wounds to the neck and/or any other sensitively exposed areas of the body, then hang the victim by the ankles over night to completely drain the body of blood. And when morning came, the killer would throw the corpse into the streets for civilians to discover. The man dubbed 'night stalker' had gained his title for it was said he hunted down his victims, toying with them like a cat upon a mouse. However, after so many brutal killings, the merciless 'man' aspect of this folklore tale was quickly converted to a dangerous demon. When news got out that the young maiden had been abducted by the Oni, a search party was in immediate effect. They searched for days and found nothing but the shredded remains of her night gown and one of her geta.
The story was just dying for her to write on it. And she did. Adding her own plots and characters as she pleased and turning the true horror story into something to entertain and entrance people.
So, clearing her throat, she adjusted the dainty-framed glasses perched on her nose and began the speech she had prepared.
"The Oni and the Lady," She announced her title and laid out the setting for her fiction.
"A daimyo's daughter.
But that didn't mean she had to act like one. Not until today, anyways; her fifteenth birthday.
Two ranks above peasants in the chain of life. When one really thought about it, then it didn't seem like such a bad position to be in. But, to her, it was just dull.
A child born and bred for politics of the world. Raised for one thing, and one thing alone. To auction off to the highest bidder. A doll to trade away, a peace treaty if the time ever came that her father wanted to merge the lands he represented with another wealthy lord. And she hated it. She didn't want to be married off to whomever her father chose, whomever he pleased. She wanted freedom, fun and a life of her own. She hated the binds of her fate as much as a person could loath any single thing.
And she despised the pious life she lived. She detested being chained, being tied down by her position in this world. To be owned was the thing she feared most and the fate she was slowly slipping towards if her father had his way.
She had quickly grown from a frightfully flagrant tomboy into a young goddess of the sun. Still lively and mischievously playful, but refined and dignified when her father insisted upon it. And she enjoyed being a little wart of a girl just as much as she enjoyed playing princess. But, she didn't like it when her father told her to do so. Because she was a girl who hated orders. For her, commands went in one ear and out the other. She wasn't a pawn to be moved from one square to the other, to bow to his howling winds. And she always made sure to let him know that, she wouldn't be pushed around so easily.
Of course, being of noble blood and birth had positives. She loved dressing up and waving her little fan flirtatiously under her eyes, batting her lashes at boys just to watch her father fume at her promiscuous advances. Maybe if she tried hard enough to get under his skin, he'd change his mind.
The young girl appreciated elegance and beauty as much as any other man or woman in her ring of society. Elegance, if handled well enough in the correct hands, could be a fine art. Still, she preferred romping around like a child than being confined within the tight binds of her long robes–"
"Ms. Haruno," Her teacher interrupted with a sigh.
"Yes?" She stopped reading her report and looked up.
"That will do for today, class is almost over." Sakura looked at the clock hanging on the wall. There was still fifteen minutes left. She then turned her eyes to the classroom. Ten students were staring out the window, five had their heads down on their desks, two were biting their nails and one shooting spit wads at the ceiling.
Nobody was paying attention. A surge of anger coursed through her at their disrespective rudeness. Until she realized,
She was being a total bore. Nobody really wanted to hear her stupid story.
"Yes, ma'am." She lowered her head, feeling more than a little put out. The teacher gave her a pitiful look that just made her feel even worse as she returned to her seat. Trying her best to ignore the snickers echoing around her.
When the bell rang, the instructor called out to her and asked her to stay for a few minutes. She obliged and waited until the student body had cleared from the room before she approached the woman's desk.
Sakura swallowed hard when she stared into the hard features of the woman. She didn't think this was going to be good news by the tone of her voice. "You wanted to talk with me?" Sakura asked kindly.
"Your report," The blonde woman said pointedly with a glance to the stack of papers still held firmly within her students grasp.
"What about it?" She asked nervously. "I worked especially hard on it."
"I'm very sure that you did, Ms. Haruno. And that's what I wanted to confront you on this afternoon."
"I don't understand," Sakura's brows knit in confusion and the teacher let out an exasperated sigh.
"I know how important achieving the upcoming academic award is to you,"
"Yes," Sakura quickly assured her.
"And that you've been working yourself to death with homework and extra credits,"
"Yes," Sakura's eyes were big and wide in hopes of hearing a specific word to leave her teachers mouth; Congratulations! Her heart beat a little faster in anticipation. This award was what she lived for, it was the center of her universe. If she received it, her parents would shower her with the accolades she knew she deserved.
"But I think you need to give yourself more credit and stop trying so hard."
Sakura nearly jerked back from the jolt that comment gave her. Woah...what? Had the woman lost her mind? "I assure you, ma'am, I give myself full credit for everything that I do."
"You don't understand," The woman shook her head. "You're working yourself too hard. And I'm not entirely sure it's you that you're doing all this for. Sakura, is this award what you want, or what your family wants?"
Sakura looked affronted and appalled. "Of course this is what I want. And I'm sure that if I receive this award it will make my family very, very proud."
"I see." Her voice was low. "That's why you felt the need to turn a two page report into a twenty-pager?"
Sakura lowered her eyes and bit her lip.
"I will extend your deadline over the weekend. Fix the report, nock off those extra eighteen pages and I will expect you to read this thing properly come Monday afternoon, Ms. Haruno."
"Yes, ma'am." She numbly nodded her head.
"That will be all, good day." The blonde dismissed her.
"Good day, Ms. Okage." She bowed in turn and left the room silently.
Well, this was one good day gone down the drain. Sakura sighed and leaned her back against the wall next to her classroom. She felt numb all over for some reason. Surely Ms. Okage's comments hadn't stirred her that much.
But Sakura was trying...she was really trying hard. Her face contorted in displeasure. Maybe a little too hard. Just like Ms. Okage suggested. Sakura had nearly no social life. She lived in a big mansion with her parents that were never home and stayed in her room studying all the time. In some way, she supposed, she hoped all her efforts would keep her parents home more. But deep down, she knew it was all in vain.
Damn it all! She cursed under her breath and shoved away from the wall. Trying to ignore the stinging in her eyes.
There was supposed to be a costume party tonight at a local frat house. One of her friends wanted her to go, but true to Sakura nature, she had declined and proclaimed that she needed to study. But now, thinking on what Ms. Okage had told her, and her own pitiful excuse of a life, Sakura wanted to throw caution to the wind. She wanted a social life, more friends, more parties(outside of the occasional dinner party her parents held) she wanted to get drunk and get a boyfriend.
Books be damned for tonight. Sakura wanted to feel a little wild and even, just maybe, a little popular.
So, pushing the rim of her glasses higher on her nose, she stormed out of her private school and down the sidewalk to the nearest bus stop. There she sat on the bench, waiting for the next bus to drive by. She had been held after class, and all the buses had already gone through and were more than likely still en route. It made sense that she would have to wait extra long for the next one to stop for her.
But the minutes went by and turned into an hour. And each time she checked the clock on her cell phone, it only got later and later. With no sign of a bus.
"Looks like I'm walking," She mumbled to herself, feeling more than a little upset and aggravated at the lack of public transportation. It wasn't a particularly short walk home. A good half an hour or more, depending on how fast she walked. She could always call her parents, but they probably weren't home. A cab costed money, and she wasn't even carrying her debit card with her. And her friends, well, they were all probably getting ready for that costume party.
Placing one foot in front of the other, she started the long walk home. The weather didn't feel too particularly cold today, so she didn't mind it so much this way.
It wasn't a very populated part of town. The houses here were nice, beautiful actually. Expensive gated communities. But there was always one house that gave her the heeby-geebies every time she'd even look at it while driving by. And that house was on the next block she was about to pass. Her own home was still a good twenty minutes away, so she'd also given thought to just walking around the entire block to avoid the place. It had been long abandoned, always had been since she could remember.
She steeled her nerves and rolled her eyes. She was nearly sixteen, this kind of childish behavior was ridiculous. There was no real reason to be afraid of a house. Sure, it was old and ugly and rickety and down right creepy. But she was a grown girl. So she walked on.
Sakura tried not to look at the place and picked up her pace as she walked by.
Her skin started to tingle and shiver as the breeze suddenly decided to lash out at her hair. She swallowed hard and told herself the distinct sensation of eyes upon her was only in her head. The empty windows of the battered house were dark and dreary, she couldn't see past that darkness. Who knew what lurked past the threshold of Manor Creepy-Out.
A sound caught her attention and she paused mid-step. The wind slowed and she couldn't seem to find the sound again. So she brushed it out of her mind and started to walk again. But as soon as she took a step, she heard it for the second time.
She turned her head to the house and stared at it.
A music box was playing. And it sounded as if it were coming from that house.
Another tremor went down her spine and she couldn't deny how weird she felt around this place.
The music played on for a few more seconds and she was able to determine it was coming from the top floor. But as soon as she started to pick up on the tune, it faded and died into the wind. Tree limbs rattled behind her and she quickly turned her back on the house and ran away.
She felt like a little coward, childish and immature. But it was hard to stay around that house and not feel affected in a negative way.
Sakura ran the rest of the way home, cutting twenty minutes down to ten. Her skin still covered with goose bumps and her heart racing. After this strange incident, she knew exactly what she wanted for her upcoming birthday; a car.
She unlocked her door and entered her big, luxurious empty house. Her footsteps echoed off of the marble floors as she climbed the staircase to her room. She threw her book bag onto her bed and turned on her radio, hoping some pop tunes might make all her worries vanish.
The party was in a few more hours, so she had time to rummage through her closet of endless clothes. She didn't have anything that could be of use for a Halloween party, but she remember her mother had worn a Victorian Ball Gown to her company masquerade party last season. It was still new and specially made for her mother by hip, popular designers in the fashion world.
Her mother was just as small as she was and she didn't think she would mind if Sakura used it for the night, as long as she didn't spill anything on it. She retrieved the dress from her mothers room and brought it to her own. It really was a beautiful dress. Pure white, a large bow in the back that gave it the unique Victorian appearance. Long, lacy sleeves and a low square-cut neckline that gave a front row view of her chest.
She tried it on, it fit perfectly. Accept for the bodice. Sakura's chest was a good size or two larger than her mothers, leaving her breasts to nearly overflow the top. But she would have to suffice. It wasn't as if she had any other costumes laying around the house. She appraised herself in the mirror, liking what she saw. The red ribbons that accented the white dress had a tendency to resemble blood, especially contrasted against the virginal white muslin. But it would have to do, after all, it was Halloween. Blood would go perfectly with anything.
She took the dress off and went to work on her report, trying to shorten it to only two pages. It was difficult, and she was only half way done when she grew tired of it and stared at her bed. Thinking of how wonderful a nap would be.
Exhaustion gave way and she set her alarm to wake her up in thirty minutes.
And when she slept, she had strange, horrible dreams of red-eyed killer ferrets chasing her down a dark path.
Her alarm woke her up with a start and she hit the snooze button with a growl. Feeling less than rested, she finished revising her report and took a shower. Afterwards, she called one of her friends to inform her that she'd be attending the party tonight.
Ino, her young friend, was more than happy that Sakura had decided to go.
"Are you sure there won't be a problem with me not reserving ahead of time?" Sakura asked.
"Are you kidding?" Ino laughed. "It's a frat party. Everyone will barely know anyone there, you'll blend right in."
That had helped to take some worry off Sakura's shoulders, she had been a little skeptical as to whether or not they would let her in without an invitation. The two girls continued to talk and share with each other what their costumes looked like. Exchanging ideas and suggestions who each should dance with that night.
It was dark by the time she had left her house, dressed in her gorgeous ball gown and carrying a matching red purse that went well with her ribbons. The fraternity house was further in town and her parents still weren't home. So she took the thirty minute walk back to the bus stop and waited for the next bus to take her into town. She had completely avoided the abandoned house this time, making sure she walked two whole blocks out of the way just so she didn't have to look at it.
She was sitting on the waiting bench, feeling ridiculous in her costume. There weren't many cars out at this time of night, she supposed most everybody had their own parties to attend. And this part of town didn't usually get trick-or-treaters, the children usually went into the main part of town with their parents and walked door to door to fill their buckets with candy.
Sakura tried to tell herself she liked sitting alone in the dark with nothing but a flickering street lamp over head. She told herself it gave her time to reflect on the day. But it didn't work. She opened her purse just enough for her to stick her hand inside and wrapped her fingers around her can of mase. She hated the dark, especially when she was all alone and the bus was late again.
She had done her rosette hair in a complicated up-do on the crown of her head. And curled whatever strands had fallen loose from the concoction of the mass of hair on her head. The wind blew those curls softly against her neck and cheek. She wore no jewelry, for the only accessories she had were expensive ones. She didn't want to risk getting robbed for her flashy apparel, so she decided on nothing but a pair of studded rhinestone earrings.
It was another five minutes later and the bus had still not come into sight. She was on the verge of calling for a cab, her cell phone in her hand when she heard a shuffle from across the street.
Her green eyes quickly snapped up but there was nothing there. She bit her lip and blamed the noise on a stray cat and started to dial the number.
She nearly dropped her phone when she heard the same strange noise on her side of the street. Only twenty feet to her left. She gasped and looked in the direction of the sound but again saw nothing.
Darn cats, she laughed to herself nervously and stared at the spot until all the silhouettes of trees and street signs blurred into one giant blob of darkness. She blinked a few times to clear her vision, and as she did so caught sight of a shadow standing motionlessly by a tree on the sidewalk.
Her stomach flopped and her heart slammed against her chest. Her fingers tightened around her pepper spray. But when she blinked again, the shadow was gone. As if it had never been there.
Her hands started shaking violently as she returned her attention to her cell phone, clearing the numbers for a cab and trying her best to text in the number for the local police station. Maybe there was a thief out tonight, and maybe he had his eyes on her.
Her fingers proved too shaky and her hands were trembling too hard for her to use the phone correctly as she tried to press the send button. She thought she had it, but as her thumb started to push the button, long icy fingers traveled down the length of the back of her neck.
She screeched, pulled out her mace and shot to her feet. Turning on the ball of her foot to aim the spray at the violator.
No one was there.
Her knees were clattering as she stared at the empty plot of land that held no one. Was it her imagination at blame for this? Was she just conjuring up all these strange things within her head? But she was certain someone had touched her.
She heard that odd shuffling behind her again, footsteps coming slowly towards her. A brush of clothing, the wind seemed to die just then and her body froze.
A cool breath exhaled against her ear and she refused to turn around.
There was someone behind her. A person. She had no doubts that it was her imagination this time. She could still hear them at her back. She could feel them.
Her can of mase fell from her fingers, as did her phone and purse. Hoping maybe all they wanted was her money.
Those icy fingers started to graze her neck again and her eyes began to water.
A dog suddenly howled in the night, somewhere in the distance. It jolted her body and without hesitation her feet moved under her. She bolted into the night, leaving behind the stranger and her purse under that flickering street lamp. Maybe they wouldn't chase her if they wanted her money, maybe they'd take her purse and leave.
She ran as fast as she could, the souls of her feet stomping the earth beneath her. A stumbling cadence on the concrete sidewalk in the direction she hoped was home. It was so hard to see, the street wasn't well lit and her toes caught several times on broken sidewalk panels.
Her lungs were heaving now, more out of fear than exertion. She looked back over her shoulder, praying to God that the shadow wouldn't be there following her. Allowing her pace to slightly slow when it wasn't.
But when she returned her attention to the path ahead of her, there it was. Tall and dark and foreboding.
She screamed in horror as she tried her best to skid to a halt before she got too close. Here eyes were wide as she watched it begin to move in on her. She screamed again and turned in a new direction, fleeing straight to the first house she saw.
In her panic, she didn't notice which house she was running to.
Her thundering feet stormed up the porch of the house and her fists went wild on the door. Banging and hammering at the old wood. She yelled for help, but no one would answer – not that she had expected anyone to reply to her pleas. She looked back and the shadow was gone again, but that didn't mean her fear was gone with it. Her hand clasped around the doorknob and turned it, grateful when it didn't seem to be locked.
She stumbled inside and rested her back against the door. Her breath heavy and her cheeks flushed and soaked with her tears. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. She had never been faced with such an ordeal. A part of her said to turn and defend yourself, but she was more coward than hero when faced with this new inexperienced situation. The man outside could be armed, what then? What would she do if she confronted him and he pulled a gun on her?
She could get shot.
Or even worse...
Sakura buried her face in her hands and cried. She had been a fool when she dropped her cell phone back there. She needed to call for help.
She stopped her sobs when she heard something coming from just outside the door again.
It was footsteps. Walking up the porch steps and coming toward the door.
Another sob started to leave her throat, but she stopped it on a choke. She reached down and locked the door before she looked around the empty house. There was nothing in the place, hardly no furniture.
It was like looking into complete darkness. Everything around her was drenched in pitch blackness. She closed her eyes and attempted to calm her rattled nerves, listening as the footsteps outside grew louder.
When she opened them, she saw stray beams of moonlight coming from the top floor. Illuminating the stairway just ahead of her.
She launched herself from the door and took off toward the light, her fingers wrapping around the handle of the stairs as she ascended as quickly and quietly as possible. Biting her tongue when the old wood beneath her slippers creaked and popped under her weight until she reached the top.
Moonlight filtered through a door at the end of the long hallway. Giving her a path of pale light to tip-toe across.
The soft chime of a music box touched her ears as she got closer and closer to the moonlit room. It was hazy at first, but as she reached the threshold and entered the room, the jingle was crisp and clear.
She stepped inside and studied the room. Half covered in darkness and half lit by the moon. "Hello?" She called. Hoping that someone was in this room as well, hoping she could ask if they had a phone. After all, somebody had to have turned on the music box.
Her slippered feet shuffled a little further into the room, her mind still wondering to her stalker waiting for her just outside the house. Was he still there? Was he still waiting on her? What did he want from her? She rushed over to the window to look outside, just to check. Perhaps she would be able to catch a glimpse of her assailant.
When she saw nothing, she turned and found the little music box sitting on an old, lopsided table in the middle of the room. A dining chair beside the table. Otherwise, the room seemed completely empty. She eyed it for a moment, then looked around the room again before taking a few steps to the ornament. Her fingers reached out and brushed off some dust from the wooden box. It looked like it was made from cherry tree wood. When her fingers left the object, the music slowed and then stopped just as the song ended.
She stared at it blankly in the silence, as if it had entranced her.
"Hello there," A low voice drawled from the deep shadows.
Sakura snapped out of her daze, jumping before she turned toward the direction of the voice. There was nothing but shadows.
"H-hello?" She called again. Her pulse throbbing.
"Yes?" The voice repeated and her eyes grew wide as she watched a man step from the darkness in the room to the light.
"O-oh," She gulped, her heart racing just a bit. How long had he been there? Why hadn't he said anything when she first entered the room? "I'm sorry to intrude, but, please," She crossed her arms over her chest and shivered as she recalled the dangerous man that was waiting for her just outside. "There's someone after me. Do you have a phone I could use?"
"A phone?" His dark eyes fell to the music box by her side.
"Yes," She nodded.
It took him a few moments to answer as he stared at her intently, making her skin crawl. "No." He answered. She stared back, studying his strange appearance. He was a foreigner, she was sure. Handsome, yes. But his looks weren't the same as hers and his voice held a different kind of accent to it. Like a mixture of several separate cultures all in one odd pronunciation.
"A car, then?" She asked quickly. "This is your house, right? Don't you have a gun? Anything, please, there's a criminal outside!" Her voice pleaded. He continued to stare.
"That's an interesting outfit," He gestured to her dress and she realized she was wearing the Halloween gown for the party. She wanted to smack herself on the head.
"Yes," She lowered her head. "It's just for Halloween. But, listen to me, there's a bad man outside. You have to do something."
"Don't worry, I think he's gone." He said slowly, almost enigmatically.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't think he's outside anymore." He started to walk towards her. She wanted to take a step back, but courtesy held her in place.
"But what if he is?" She argued.
"What if he came inside?" His eyes fell to the music box as he picked it up and winded the knob on the bottom to let more music chime out from the trinket.
"I locked the door. You don't need to worry." Her eyes narrowed as she assured him. He nodded his head as if agreeing with her on some matter.
"It's a lovely song, no?" He asked. She tilted her head, wondering what the hell was wrong with this man. "Do you recognize it?"
"Um," She wanted to suggest that she leave, but swiftly remember the horror that awaited her just outside the door. She could try to humor this man. It would bide the time until day broke and she could find real help. Whoever he was, he didn't seem the least bit interested in aiding her. Maybe he was a crazy shut-in like the crazy cat lady that lived just down the street. After all, the place did look a mess, she had always thought it was abandoned. But his clothes were nice, nicer than this house, even. Dark trousers and a black overcoat with red cufflinks the glimmered in the moonlight. "Sounds like something from the early 1600's." She replied with shy, good-nature.
"Very good." He praised with another slow nod of the head. "Composed after the death of Tokugawa Ieyasu."
"Ieyasu? You know of him?" She asked, amazed that a foreigner would know his name. Then she laughed at herself for a moment, remembering everyone knew who Ieyasu was, even most foreigners. It was like asking a close friend what their name was, the answer would be obvious. "Stupid question, forget I asked." She waved dismissively.
"Yes, I knew him." He continued anyways, despite her dismissal of the subject. Then he said something that, in a way, shocked the words right out of her mouth. "I first became acquainted with him when he was still young, under the name Motoyasu. Our meetings were brief in terms of length, but I advised him when he wanted my opinion. I didn't stay with him longer than two years and left the lands out of shear boredom. The last I saw of him, he was avoiding the Battle of Okehazama rather successfully."
"Uh-huh..." She drawled out, certain beyond a reasonable doubt that this man truly was insane. "And what did you do then? Fly to the moon – wait, I suppose you knew the emperor as well?" She taunted, watching him with a keen eye. Didn't this guy know she stopped freaking out over weird stories when she was a kid. Most girls her age were already past that silly stage. Well, at least she was getting one thing out of this; his story was keeping her mind preoccupied from the danger outside. A part of her felt guilty for teasing a crazy man, but her current situation was worse than his. "I think you're confused." She explained. "Ieyasu lived in the late fifteen and early sixteen hundreds. He's dead."
"I know." He met her stare evenly then shrugged meagerly, uncaring whether she seemed to believe him or not. "When I left, I had already seen most of Asia and it simply failed to keep me entertained or impressed for long. So I ventured out through Europe once again. Eventually, after avoiding a place I found particularly repulsing, I gave in and explored some of the America's. It was something new and fresh, the women I found there were quite unique. I returned nearly forty years later with newfound curiosity to see what had become of Matsudaira. But by that time Nobunaga was already dead, Motoyasu had changed his name to Tokugawa Ieyasu through the courts and had won the battle at Sekigahara. And I, no longer patient or caring enough to give a damn about his glory was labeled, by the source from the countries I had left him for forty years prior, as a westerner; which after his victory were swiftly being executed. After many failed attempts on my life, Ieyasu gave up and offered me a position as one of his wealthiest daimyo. Sadly, he thought I was stupid enough to fall for his feigned graciousness. It was clear to anyone that his proposition was nothing more than a ploy to draw me into his web and continue to persecute me." He smirked. That smirk looked odd on the man. And the way it tugged on his mouth, as if it were twisting and pulling muscles that had never been used on a smile before, disturbed her severely. "That's when I met your beloved Toshinaga maiden."
Sakura's heart skipped a beat. Toshinaga was the name of the girl in her school report. How would he know of her, or for that matter, know that Sakura was studying her. Her infatuation with the maiden's story had grown since she stumbled upon her informational web page posted on the internet. It wasn't a particularly popular tale, so she doubted this stranger knew much about her. And just like that, her distressful situation was ignored as she delved into the discussion with bright eyes. "You truly knew of her?" She forgot herself for a moment and let her voice ask in a hasty reply, rambling in awe. "I mean, I always knew there was some truth to her existence, and the demon in the legend was just that; a myth produced by frightened villagers. But I find it highly improbable that one single man would have been capable of carrying out such numerous and sordid murders without being caught or suspected, let alone without an accomplice. It gets the mind churning and I wonder, could there have been some foul play at work?" She paused, thought about what she had just said and shook her head in denial. Feeling idiotic for giving that slip of the tongue. "I still don't understand why you're telling me all this. You're just lying to entertain yourself, this is all far too impossible. I see what you're trying to do and, just so you know, you're not succeeding in the least bit in frightening me." She had to draw the line somewhere, she didn't know this guy and his story was starting to creep her out. Or more precisely, he was creeping her out. Sure, it was a good listen for a scary night like tonight, but it wasn't real and she had more important things to worry about. This was nothing but fiction made up by a strange man to scare an unsuspecting girl on Halloween night. "I just got mugged and you're making me listen to this crap. You should be ashamed. And just for future reference, you should rethink the whole 'scary story' theme. You're failing – badly."
"Am I?" He said. "I hadn't realized I was trying to affect you in such a way." She studied his face again. His skin didn't even look human, it looked pale and smooth and vaguely resembled the texture of porcelain.
She softly bit her lip in guilt of openly staring, maybe he had a skin disease. "How do you even know I was studying her?"
"I know many things." Her jaw dropped a bit, so now he thought he was a fortune teller? What a crack-pot.
"Alright, what was her name?" She asked, pushing the subject just for the simple purpose to satisfy his quirky desire to share this story with her. Hopefully he'd shut-up as soon as he spilt his guts.
"Sakura." Her own name rolling from his lips made her body react awkwardly in a way she didn't like.
She laughed shortly, nervously. "Excuse me?"
"Her name was Sakura. As is yours." His features were so serious she was half tempted to believe him. He had to have gotten this information from somewhere, which was even more creepy to know someone may have been doing research on her. It was impossible for him to have known her name. A cold shiver went down her spine at the thought.
Okay...time to leave.
"I..." She opened her mouth and moved her lips until the words finally came out, taking a few steps back. "I think I better go."
"No, no," He objected to her suggestion with his deep, smooth voice. "It's dangerous out there," Sakura's body literally jumped when the door behind her slammed shut, the audible sound of a lock quickly following thereafter. He turned his back on her, allowing her to see the length of his hair falling past his shoulders, tied at the base of his neck. Sakura's knees started to clatter again at the sudden shift in the feel of the room. The air felt thicker, heavier, it seemed a little more dark than before. "Let me entertain you for a few more minutes," He returned to the shadows, but didn't allow himself to be completely engulfed by the darkness. Standing in half light and half dark. She swallowed and forced herself to listen to him as he continued to speak. "Ieyasu handed over the land, the land he had planned in using to lure me into his dungeons, over to Maeda Toshinaga. Sakura's father. Ieyasu gave thirty-six hundred thousand koku to Toshinaga that made him the wealthiest daimyo beneath Ieyasu himself. Of course, upon hearing of Toshinaga's daughters engagement to another lord, I could hardly pass up the opportunity to create trouble for Ieyasu and his daimyo." Sakura continued to stare, her green eyes fixated on his tall form. Stark and foreboding, blending into the darkness of the room around them as if it were where he belonged. For a moment, a part of her brain told her how similar his shadow was to the shadow that had chased her into this old house. But it was impossible, she had locked the door behind her. And he had been in this room even before she had stepped foot in the house, playing his music box and staring out the window. "Naturally, like any rebellious offspring, the young girl had no wish to be married off to some fat autocrat simply so her father could receive more lands than he already had, and didn't need. So, I hunted her down, and found her in the night taking a stroll along the borders of her castle grounds unattended like a little fool. But I did not take her then. I watched her for many nights, studying her and her ways. Until finally I approached her. The brazen chit was hardly afraid when she noticed me. And so, I offered her a proposition, a deal."
Sakura allowed herself to break in. "A deal?"
"Yes," He said calmly. "If I were to help her escape the fate of her arranged marriage, then she would give me her soul."
Sakura gasped and she wasn't sure if it were a sound of restrained laughter or utter disbelief. "You cannot be serious." Her jaw dropped.
He shrugged, but continued. "I let her go that night and started on a rampage throughout the town surrounding her fathers estate. Quickly I had become the village Oni that plagued them. With the village in their heightened sense of panic, I took the opportunity at hand and 'abducted' the girl, just as we had planned. Essentially ruining Toshinaga's chances of expanding his borders and in effect saving the girl from a fate that she did not want. But in doing so, giving me her soul."
A strange gurgling sounded echoed in the back of her throat on a strangled laugh. Her lips turning white as she pursed her mouth together. Her cheeks and forehead turned red as her eyes started to water. The natural scowl on the mans face deepened as he watched her try her very best not to laugh and embarrass him.
"Of course," He inclined his head, showing her was unaffected by her mirth. "I would not expect you to believe me."
She nodded in agreement. But now she couldn't resist – his own interest in this ridiculous tale had actually began to intrigue her...that, or the utter hilarity of this man's attitude and effort he put into his act was too good to pass up. "Let me see, so, after you attacked all these people and drained them of their blood like the legend says, what did you do with Toshinaga Sakura?"
"I claimed her soul and her life, and she became mine." Sakura blanched a bit under the dead pitch in his tone.
"And that is all that became of her?" She let her eyes glance around, mocking him and his word as she looked for more persons within the old room. "She is not here to accompany you and solidify your flamboyant tales of feudal murders?" She had to giggle a little at that crack.
"She is dead."
"Oh?" Sakura smiled. "Cause of death being old age, I presume? This is the sixteen hundreds we're talking about."
"I killed her."
Her breathing stopped. Spilling out strange verses of ignorant legends was something she had begun to find amusing. But openly admitting to a murder, whether truth or not, was disturbing.
"Your efforts in frightening me have succeeded." She said curtly and tightened her jaw. "Now, if you'll excuse me."
"I haven't finished."
"Frankly, I don't give a damn." She lifted her chin and turned her back.
"Sit down." She felt his cold hand on her shoulder and she stiffened. How had he gotten across the room so fast? It was down right impossible, and without a single noise – it was preposterous!
The fingers on her shoulder contracted and pushed her down into the squeaky wooden chair by her side. Sakura resisted, she tried to will her feet to move. To run away. But some unknown force grounded her. Glueing her to the floor. Against her will, she felt her knees bending and her body descending into the chair.
She stole a look over her shoulder at the grim expression on his face and her blood went cold. What was he doing to her? It was like she had no control whatsoever. And for a moment, true fear wrapped it's thin fingers around her heart. It seemed trouble was seeking her out tonight. She should have just stayed home and studied like usual.
"Now, where was I?" He asked cooly when she was fully seated and staring up at him in her best attempt to hide the fear she felt.
"You said you had killed..." She stopped, her lips unable to get the words out.
"Ah, yes. The girl only stayed with me for half a century when I took her to Asia – that is, before she finally took a particular dislike to my presence and ran. I found no reason to follow her, I already possessed her soul and in doing so haunted her wherever she may happed to be." He walked leisurely to the broken glass of the nearest window, casting moonlight on his broad figure. Sakura tried to move her legs again, and again failed. "I launched myself into Africa, and found the tribal variety of humans and traditions were absolutely astounding. Did you know that there are over one thousand different cultural languages spoken in certain parts of Africa? No, of course you don't." He answered for her. "My time spent there was equivalent to twenty years. I again left to a particularly favorite land of mine – Jamaica. The voodoo rituals and beliefs that existed there had captured my fascination many, many years prior to this visit. Upon the return, I found little had changed. I made my residing place randomly between Jamaica and the South America's for the next thirty solar revolutions. It was then that I took it upon myself to retreat into solitude of Jamaica alone, undisturbed for nearly two centuries underground. I should like to think I could show you Jamaica someday. You would enjoy it immensely."
Sakura tried look anywhere in the room but at him. Whatever he was trying to suggest was nothing short of impossible and, to be blunt, stupid. She felt strong fear at the way she was unable to move her appendages, but great irritation at this story that she no longer found entertaining nor believable. And she'd be damned if she ever went anywhere with him...including Jamaica!
He looked back to her, as if sensing the shift in her mood. "When I awoke, I, of course, was famished. And the ingrained need for a thrilling kill returned with a vengeance." Sakura very nearly rolled her eyes. There he goes with the 'killing' rambling again. "I wasted no time in returning to Europe to make my grand entrance into the ton, this new society of Victorian England. Then, on the thirty first day of the eighth month of the eighteen hundredth and eighty eighth year, I became the Whitechapel murderer...or as you may know – Jack."
"You must have many aliases." She put in with little enthusiasm.
"Only received by false rumors arrogated by the terrified masses. However, I was rather proud of the work I did in Whitechapel. I suppose those were some of the most pleasing days of my life. Assuming you know of which thread of mass panic I am referring to?"
"Yes," She nodded. "Everyone has heard of the Ripper. However, I'm finding it highly improbable that you, a man of merely middle age, could have lived so long unaffected by time." She added a off-the-wall smart attitude to that sentence that only seemed to amuse him. "Moreover, being one of the most enduring mysteries of the murderers identity, is the answer to the question as to why he stopped." And even more so, she thought bitterly, why this conversation had started with a discussion of Tokugawa Ieyasu and was now heading into a mysterious killer that walked the streets of Whitechapel, England a century ago. "I suppose you'd have the answer to that question, too?" She snipped.
"I suppose you would be right." She scowled back at his easy reply. "Toshinaga Sakura had been seeking me out for the past seventy years, unable to find me in my solitude in Jamaica. When she heard of the gruesome crimes that had set all of England into an uproar, it took her little time to find me. And thus, my nights of fun were over at the end of the very year in which they had begun." He let out a noise that vaguely resembled a disappointed sigh. "It was such a shame to have ended the reign so abruptly." It wasn't so much the story that was disturbing her, despite its chilling effect, but the very look of wistfulness on his face. As if he truly missed those days he was claiming to have ruled.
She quickly shook her head and reminded herself to give him an award for his superb acting later.
"You're wondering what the Toshinaga girl wanted, no?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Sakura, over the years, had come to detest me and what I had turned her into. She hated me and spat out declarations that I had lied to her on the night of our deal. Over the course of her extended lifetime, she had fallen in love with a young peasant boy who, on the grounds of his devout Christianity, had rejected her – and even attempted to murder her – upon his discovery of her true nature. Apparently, guilt had never weighed quite as heavily on her as it did the day he turned his back on her. She had not the courage to kill herself, so she dedicated the rest of her depressing life to finding me and retrieving her soul. When I refused to return what I had already taken, she simply begged for me to end her life."
"And?" She found herself reluctantly asking.
"I obliged." Any inclination Sakura had been feeling to laugh quickly disappeared. "It was such a waste," He left the window to slowly walk to her side. Her neck gradually bending back to observe his features completely as he came nearer. "To deny her inner most desires, to deny what she really was..." She tried to jerk away from his touch as his hand came down to brush a tendril of her hair away from her brow, sliding down her round cheek to her chin. But her eyes were locked to his and every command she seemed to send to her body was useless.
"What was she?" Or rather, what was he claiming to have turned her into?
He simply gave her that strange, odd looking smile again. "Patience, love." He assured her, she frowned at the name. "I have not quite finished."
"Oh, heavens!" She enthused. "My apologies. Please, do go on."
"Very well," He gave her an icy look with his dark eyes that sent goose bumps over her skin. "After leaving Whitechapel, I slowly worked my way into Russia. Arriving around the end of Nicolai II's rule. Not long thereafter, the war began in Germany and essentially effected Russia as well. I decided that Australia had been calling for me for far too long and planted myself there for only a few years. Again, I left, for the place was simply nothing more than acres of dry deserted land and occasional spots of humanity along coastlines. Except for the aborigines that were native to the country."
He was silent for moments. And she quirked her brow above the thin rim of her glasses in confusion. "That's it?"
He shrugged. "I inevitably returned here after roaming about like a wandering vagrant. I had not been to this land in centuries...I suppose I was curious."
She relaxed her body, finding that she had a little more control over her resistant limbs as she did so. "I think I understand now," She nodded her head, certain that she had figured out this man's plot. "If I guess correctly at what you are supposed to be, then I win a prize or something? That's it, isn't it? This is some kind of twisted game you play." She stated. "Let me guess, you have friends with cameras behind holes in the walls filming my horrified expression so you may laugh at me later." She couldn't help but giggle. "Or, perhaps, you are simply some sad, lonely man who wishes to terrify youngsters for a thrill – which, you gravely need to work on your delivery if you actually aim to scare someone. Or maybe direct your words to a younger audience, one that is more easily and naively amused."
"I see I have failed to capture your imagination."
"Oh, you've captured it all right." She nodded. "Just not in the way you may wish." Sakura let her head rest on the back of the old chair casually. "I'm assuming that you're actually trying to insinuate that you are immortal with all these flamboyant tales of centuries long past." She chided."That you're, perhaps, Dracula?" Her mouth upturned in the humor of such a thought.
"Dracul?" He scoffed at her, then sighed with hopelessness. "Young minds are so eager to endure modern horror tales these days." He murmured to himself, rounding the chair to stand behind her. "I am not, neither have I ever had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of Vlad Tepes Dracul. However, I found his work quite remarkable; I much enjoyed his favored technique of impalement. It wasn't much long after his retreat to Tirgoviste and the massacre of thousands of Turks that I came to Japan and thereafter met Ieyasu many years later."
Sakura swallowed, feeling uncomfortable now more than ever. She felt him lean over her, she could feel his presence like a strong wave washing over her as he leaned in close to her ear. Breathing across her skin.
"What am I, you question." His cold lips grazed the top of her ear and her fear grew. "But what are you?" Her body felt warm all over, tight and tingly. Her stomach was upset, she didn't understand what was happening. "You're nothing but a sad, lonely little girl waiting for love from your pitiful parents." She tried her best to turn her head to glare at him, but her body was frozen. Her legs felt like lead. "You're thinking I'm some crazy man out to get you. But you're just as sick and pathetic as what you're thinking I am." He leaned in more, his lips doing more than just grazing her skin.
"Please," A tear started to fall from her eye. "Stop it."
"The Toshinaga girl didn't much enjoy the darkness, either. In fact, you almost remind me of her. So quick to judge, always stuck in situations and circumstances you don't want to be in." Her body began to shake with sobs when his hand touched her shoulder intimately. "How would you like to make a deal, love?" Unusually sharp teeth nipped at her jaw as he turned her face a notch to the side.
"I don't want to," She clenched her eyes shut, and tried to shake her head but her body was still not listening. Willing herself to wake up from this bad dream. Then something flooded her body, strong and urgent and persisting. A feeling only described as pleasure coursed through her veins and she clenched her jaw as her back arched willfully. Confusion and disbelief contorted her face. She didn't understand how such a thing could happen. Was he doing this to her? But how? "Wh...what are you?" She whispered, arching again as if he had smacked her with another shot of the foreign sensation.
"Are you that curious, or do you just want to know what I'm doing to you?" Another heat wave hit her and she tried her best to resist it this time, but it only seemed to make it worse. She felt his fingers on her neck, and the recognition of that chilling affect on her skin as he ran the tips of his fingers down to her nape was instantaneous. It was him. He who had chased her into this house. He who had touched her near the bus stop and stalked her through the night. How? Had he really been stalking her? For how long? Before tonight? What did he want to do to her? "Wouldn't you like to find out?" He said softly, as if he had read her mind.
What if he abducted her...and did...bad things...
"No!" She shrieked out. She felt her body awaken, her mobility return to life and without hesitation she jumped to her feet. Running to the door as fast as her shaking legs would allow. The door was still locked when she reached it and she shook it furiously over and over again until the old piece of junk finally gave way under the pressure.
She heard him laughing behind her as she threw open the door and bolted down the moonlit hall. She fell down the last two steps of the creaky staircase, but it didn't stop her as she quickly righted herself on her two feet and bustled to the door.
Sakura unlocked it ran from the house, steering herself towards home. She ran in the middle of the road, it was easiest to see the ground and if someone happed to drive by then they would notice her for sure and stop to help.
She continued to run, looking back over her shoulder every few seconds and praying that he wasn't behind her.
Her eyes caught sight of someone in the short distance, standing in the middle of the road and she opened her mouth to call out for help. It didn't take her long to recognize the ominous shadow waiting for her just ahead. She immediately turned around, but then he was at the other end of the street as well. Tears welled up in her eyes as she tried to make sense of this strange game.
"Go away!" She ordered and fled to the sidewalk, hoping to find a hiding spot in the night. Somewhere he couldn't find her. "Leave me alone!"
She hid behind a big tree, huffing and puffing and trying to calm herself the best she could. Most of her hair had fallen loose and pooled over her shoulders. There was a house just a few hundred feet away and she knew she could make it.
Sakura counted to ten and caught her breath. She looked around, knowing she wouldn't be able to see past the darkness, but instinct told her to check her surroundings anyways. Then she peeked around the tree, looking to see if he was anywhere on the other side. Nothing but silence and the rustle of the tree limbs in the breeze was seen or heard.
She sighed in relief, thinking that she had lost him. She would go to the nearest house and ask for their help, he wouldn't try anything fishy if she were with other people.
But then she turned back around.
She saw a sharp, devilish smile flash before her.
Cold fingers on her skin.
A broad figure, nothing more than a fathomless black shadow in the night.
And darkness had never felt so terrifying.
Sakura never made it to the costume party that Halloween night.
Hazy green eyes blithely opened to the world, glistening like stars across rippling water in the scant light of candles in the dim room. She felt warm and lax, surrounded by satin and lace and all things comfortably alluring.
Soft music drifted to her ears. Beautiful, lulling, gentle notes that sounded vaguely familiar to her rattled mind. A simply complex collection of the most lovely instruments created by the gods, being played perfectly by some glorious orchestra. Was it pi jesu, perhaps, that was gracing her ears? Or maybe conte te partiro? She wasn't sure, she never had been an expert on classics. But it sounded so distant, as if coming from an old record player in a separate room down the hall. Complete with all unique sounds of the tale-tale cracks and pops that a phonograph offered.
A quiet sigh left her lips as she turned her head. Dissolutely searching the room for any signs of life. Her curled rosette hair cascading in waves over the embroidered down-feathered pillow beneath her head. She saw the canopy above, the long mahogany poles supporting the fabric, the slide of expensively adorning sheets on her skin and closed her eyes again in pure indulgence. Soaking amongst the feel of the room around her and the gentle hum of music floating through the air.
Sakura couldn't feel the heavy folds of her gown against her legs, nor the sleeves that had once bound her shoulders. She molded herself tighter against the sheets beneath her. She concluded that her leggings were still present, as well as her white garters and garter-straps on her thighs. She smiled at thinking just how nice her stockings were, trimmed in the softest blue lace to tickle her skin. She felt the constriction of her corset across her breast and stomach, the garment colored in creamy white with blue ribbons and buttons to match her stockings. The lack of any cloth to separate her backside from the lovely sheets failed to bother her, nor did she let the cool breeze of air across the juncture of her legs stir her dejected thoughts.
Dark lashes fluttered open once more in a second attempt to try to scan the room. It was a wonderful room, she had to admit with a smile. Beautiful furniture, an arched window that was open to the moonlight, ancient pictures covering the walls and a lovely bed to relax in. Her cheeks flushed with a touch of pink as she squirmed her rump against the sheets again, sliding against the fabric easily. Greedily enjoying the friction it created.
Green irises caught the glimpse of a shadow on the wall, following its tail to the source until she found the doorway. That man was standing there, his face hidden in the silhouette of the lighting, his broad shoulders nearly filling the entrance. He was watching her. Carrying a glass of red wine in his right hand as he stood there, she knowing his own eyes on her as well, lying in what she presumed to be his bed.
She knew she should have shown more modesty, more shame at the lack of coverage on certain areas of her body–it didn't even register to her how her dress had been removed. But as he took a step into the room, all she could manage was a silent moan. Her eyes clenching shut as a wave of heat rushed over her flesh, sending her neck in a subtle arch against the pillow.
He calmly abandoned his wine on the nearest decored tabletop as he stalked further into the dark room. She could feel him even as it were, just as simply as he sauntered in the room as if she were pressed tight against him to absorb his movements. Her senses seemed to be completely acute to him, his strong presence pressing down upon her as he came even nearer. An unexpected gasp left her mouth as the girth of her thighs willfully parted of their own desire upon simply perceiving his aura at the foot of the bed.
Ice cold fingers touched the graceful arch of her silk-covered left foot. Running down along the slope to her dainty toes. Tracing along her heel until he lifted the small thing in his hand, raising it to his lips. She rolled her head restlessly to the side with another quick intake of air, wondering how such a frigid touch could leave her so incredibly overheated.
His lips snaked to her ankle, as did his hand. Placing nothing more than short, chaste kisses along her stockings. Slowly guiding his way to the curve of her calve, resting her tiny foot on his shoulder as he continued his trek upwards; letting the hard pads of his palms tease the sensitive skin on the back of her knee. His other hand resting by her hip as he leaned further over her yielding body.
Sakura curled her leg on his shoulder when she felt those cold lips moving on her inner thigh. Moving past her garter to touch on pale, bared flesh. Her breathing hitched when something sharp scraped along her skin, pressing but not quite persisting to breach the surface of her dermis. His slow kisses starting to become ever more intense.
Nimble fingers entangled in his long hair as cool air was exhaled upon the center of her femininity. The soothing symphony playing down the hall faded into nothingness as her body rejected all thoughts of shame and defilement as he kissed her. His lips touching the pink flower of her core, her back reacting in kind to show encouragement for another kiss.
With one palm residing on her abdomen and his other hand maneuvering between her legs to accompany his mouth, his lips repeated the action. Adding a swipe of the tongue along her seam, followed by fingers that parted the folds to her entrance.
Her thin fingers curled as his cold tongue left another trail of fire against unexplored territory.
The conforming tissue delved into her body. She gasped out, unable to call his name for he was a stranger to her. A soft hiss shooting past her teeth as her legs clamped about his head, his strong palm pressing at her belly to keep her restless hips level with the mattress.
Her mouth grasping at unknown and unspoken words on the tip of her tongue. Uncommonly sharp teeth tugged at her flesh as his tongue slid away, replaced by fingers playing around the tiny opening.
She tried to look down at him, to see him. But when she saw his dark, intense eyes watching her; fiercely glaring at her every expression as he kissed his way up her stomach, she had to look away for fear of what her own vulnerable eyes might reveal. Avoiding the red glint gleaming in his eyes and the determined affront of lust.
The swipe of his lips on her decolletage made her mind reel with new and sweet tingling shivers sent straight to her nerves. His sure fingers continued to massage sacred places with lazy caresses. His teeth began to leisurely pull at the ribbons and buttons on her corset, loosening the binding garment from her waist. Her fingers combed through his vastly thick hair, from his forehead to the nape of his neck and around to scrape along the back of his ears.
As the last button was unlatched with the skill of his mouth, she sighed in contentment as his hand pulled it away from her body–leaving her on display in nothing more that a pair of garters for her legs.
His breath was across her chest, a breeze against her collar bone and up her neck. She felt her naked breasts throb and swell and her rosy nipples pucker for his attention until she was on the very verge of begging. She felt achy and anxious. Her breasts literally feeling as if they were swollen with fire.
Jade diamonds fluttered open to lock with onyx agates. Her body grew more and more heated under his gaze, ever the more yielding. She saw his lips descending to hers, a dark kind of smirk tugging at the corners of his. She closed her gorgeously bright eyes to the world again as she arched her neck forward, offering him her quivering lips.
It was with a single pass of his tongue on her full lower lip that she gasped, but he did not venture farther than her lips. But smoothed and smothered the pink flesh with his tongue, teeth and lips. Working yet another moan from the girl, tugging at the soft piece of skin that was the peachy corner of her satiny lips. Pouting them as a delightful noise mewled in the back of her throat. But he never so much as returned her pleasing sounds. Rather, he indulged himself in the botanical scent of her hair as his tedious lips found her ear.
He was like the master of all things wonderful and wicked upon her body. She writhed and baked in his caresses, his long strokes of the tongue, the enticing nibbling on her clear complected skin. Petting her and arousing her with the firm hand on the gentle slope of her feminine mound. His fingers grew bolder, stronger as his seducing mouth touched the ticklish spot beneath her lobe. He ran his sharp, firm jaw along the curve of her round cheek to meet her own softly stubborn jaw. Playing down the elegant line of her neck, pausing at random undiluted moments to taste the sweetness she offered until his mouth passed the dip in her collar.
She couldn't stop the simper of encouragement when the tip of his sly tongue lapped at the mount of one perfectly upturned round breast. All reason was lost to her, she simply wanted more of these attentions, these feelings. It didn't matter that he was a stranger, for the way he was touching her one would assume they had been lovers for centuries. His thin lips opened and consumed an awaiting nipple. Feminine sounds that were soft at first grew loud and impatient as she gasped and arched acutely to bury her breast deeper in the cove of his mouth.
"Who..." She gasped when something sharp grazed her oversensitive skin. Her body jumped as a natural instinct instructed her to widen her legs even more for the insistent body atop hers. His weight sinking down on her was marvelous and exotic. Something new and frightening, but luring and exciting. "Who are you?" Her tapered nails dug into the fabric of his sleeves when she felt the tip of his finger begin to slide in.
His response was as silent as her breathing grew labored. She felt herself grasp to the appendage like a fist. Amazed at the response she gave him. "No one's touched me like this before...and...and I," She bit her lip as he pulled the finger out. "I'm not sure if understand all of this." She whispered, unable to find her voice. Her words seemed to please him, for the pressure on her breast grew as his suctioning mouth devoured more of her. Sakura writhed and ached, the effect of his mouth was like a vacuum. As if he were sucking for milk straight from her nipple.
His finger twisted and curled inside of her and she cried out in pure bliss. How could this man, the man who had struck so much fear into her heart, make her feel so wonderful? Shouldn't she still fear him now? Something deep inside told her yes, but he seemed to override all her brain signals and make her pulse with pleasure. How could he have such a power over her?
"You've never come for a man before," His deep voice pulled her further into indulgence. She moaned in response, listening intently, hanging on his every word. "But you will come for me tonight, love." He moved his finger again and she writhed beneath of him. "You will do as I say, you will scream when I tell you to scream. You will touch me when I want you to touch me. You will move how I tell you to move." He kissed her chin and touched her lips. "And you will come when I tell you to come." His tongue lashed out at the corner of her mouth. "And if you resist me," She opened her lips when his persisting tongue made contact between his sentences. "I will kill you." Her eyes widened in shock of his bluntness as he delved into her mouth, he watching her reaction with amusement.
His tongue was slow and leisurely. Taking his time as he touched her teeth and the palate of her mouth. Eventually coaxing her own tongue to join in the game. He began to move his finger again, more frivolously this time. Keeping tempo with the speed of his kiss.
"Remove my shirt," He ordered into her mouth. His finger growing in fervor inside of her. Remembering his threat to kill her if she did anything other than his will, she reached up with shaking hands and began to unbutton his top.
He hit a sensitive part inside and she closed her eyes for a moment as she came dangerously close to crossing some invisible line of pleasure. When she opened them again, she watched with glazed eyes as a firm, broad chest was revealed from underneath his silky shirt. Sakura pulled the shirt down his shoulders and bit her lip as his attentions on her lower body became too powerful to ignore.
She tossed her pink head back as she felt the loss of control over her legs, her stomach clenched and her breath was hard to catch. Her hands gripped at his shoulders helplessly. She was reaching a point of endless, mindless, fathomless bliss.
Sakura opened her mouth on a strangled cry, but as soon as she knew she was there he pulled away. He removed his hand and smirked down on her like some satisfied demon. Sobs left her throat, feeling needy and unfulfilled.
She didn't bother to watch as he finished removing his shirt and unfastened his pants. Her eyes opened just in time to see the waistline of his trousers drop to the mattress. He seemed to take delight in her embarrassment as she blushed deeply and tried to keep her eyes glued to his handsome face. "Ever seen one of these, love?" He grabbed her wrist and she didn't fight him when he forced her to wrap her slender fingers around him.
Her fingers failed to entirely encircle the girth of him. He guided her in moving her palm up and down his length and her hands started to shake again before she could stop herself. His chest lowered onto hers, bare flesh on flesh. Breast to chest. Her cradling his waist with her thighs. Nimble fingers still shyly wrapped around this mans shaft.
"Put me inside," His hand delved into her floral scented hair, his lips teasing her ear. She hesitated. If she did that she'd be giving him something precious, something that still kept her innocent. She'd be giving him pleasure and putting herself through pain.
But when he lifted his head and stared deeply into her eyes, her doubts faded and were soon forgotten. He moved his hips and he watched her angelic face as she placed the head of his member at her entrance.
"I...can't." She said when she immediately felt the difference in size between him and her. One of them was going to come out of this situation limping; and it wasn't going to be him.
His hand was on her thigh and she gasped as he pulled her leg further up around his waist. Without any inclination or warning, he moved his hips one swift motion, penetrating her body. Sakura grunted as the motion jolted her, hurt her and pulled tears from her eyes. He started moving inside of her with a smooth rocking motion and she suddenly realized he was only partially within her. She felt a sharp pain as he pressed on something and she turned her face away in a mix of modesty and shame as he rubbed the head of his member over her hymen over and over again, as if finding some sick pleasure in her virginity.
Then, just as fast as his first thrust, he finished the job with his second. Tearing through her innocence and electing a cry deep from her lungs until their hips were fused together.
In and out was his movements. Not even bothering to wait for her. She cried softly beneath him and wrapped her arms tightly about his neck. Clinging to something, anything that she could get her arms around.
He was slow, like a sloth. Drawing out and playing on the long journey in and back out of her. Making sure she felt every part of his body trespassing hers.
"It's been ages since I've had a virgin." His hand pulled back on her hair and he devoured the skin of her neck. Slathering wet kisses all over, down to her collar bone. "I'm enjoying your pain, love." Was he mocking her? His voice was dark and deep and sounded as if he were silently chuckling in her ear. But she wasn't sure, for there was a haze that seemed to be flooding her mind. She began feeling detached and sated. As if all were well and good and the pleasure returned.
She knew there was pain, but all she started to feel in the moment were shocking little tendrils of passion shooting up her spine at just knowing he was inside her. Building within her. Knowing he was taking advantage of her, using her. Knowing he was causing her pain, but only receiving gratifying waves of heat over her body.
She was tense and yet loose all over. Tingly and soft, but numb and tender.
It was him. He was forcing her into this state of mind somehow. Someway. He was making her feel like nothing more than a blob of sexual tension. And she didn't want to resist him, it felt too good.
He praised her when she began responding to him, causing his pace to quicken with the participation of her hips against his. Her cries grew louder with each climbing, passing intensifying second. He hissed in her ear as her swollen breasts rubbed their little protruding nipples against his pecks.
His body suddenly felt tense and strained over her as he continued his pumping motions in a sharper, shorter cadence.
Her fear. It drove him to madness. The fresh scent of adrenalin filled the air, the horrified expression on her face thrilled him to no ends. The sickness of it all made him yearn for her all the more. He fed off the excitement he felt, the terrified girl beneath him. Clutching at his shoulders for stability against his wrath.
Her arousal. Tight and yielding to his body inside of her. Clenching and moaning and writhing as she tried to take more of him in. Breathing in tiny pants of exertion as her lungs attempted to keep up with the demand of oxygen.
Her body. Young and frail and ripe for the picking. Lithe and soft against him. Sweet and intoxicating. Her thin limbs entangle with his, creating the perfect(if not overindulgent) contrast of male and female. Full breasts pressed to his firm chest. Long, slender arms around his thick neck. A flat, dipped belly that was being invaded, prodded and ravished deeply by his phallus.
Her innocence. Untouched and free of corruption. Untainted. He wanted to stain her forever with his essence.
"Come for me, Sakura." He growled in her ear. The animalistic nature of thrusting hips wildly shaking the mattress beneath of them. His hands found purchase on the mattress on both sides of her head. She watched as the bulge of his arms pulsed and grew veiny. "Come," He hissed down at her, his eyes turning to a devilish, frightening shade of red. Her ears picked up on the sound of the mattress ripping around his nails.
He forced her into it, because she felt her body bending to his will without her permission. As if she were merely the puppet and he the master. Her back arched dramatically until her breasts were painfully smashed against his hard chest. With every breath she could find she called out to God, something he seemed to find particularly amusing.
Her inner walls came down upon his invading member with a powerful clenching action, over and over. A wet kind of warmth seemed to leave her body, both her legs curled around his hips. The raw power of his muscles over her delicate frame was near to intoxicating.
She heard him growl over her. The sound sent a chill down her spine and, as if he had been waiting for the right moment, she watched his teeth lengthen right before her very eyes. She gasped and tried to roll out from under him, but her body was still lurching like a wanton vixen against his. She began crying once more as he slowly lowered his head to the crook of her neck. Nuzzling and kissing and teasing with his cold lips, drawling out the moment of tight, tense fear for her.
Then, at the perfect point over her vein, just when her innocent blood was fully tainted with her orgasm and his essence, she felt the dermis of her skin being broken by sharp unforgiving fangs. Stinging her flesh as he punctured her defenseless neck. There wasn't even a trickle of warm claret colored blood on her skin, for he sucked every drop that came from the wound.
With each of his thrusts he sucked harder. And she was still climaxing under him with no control of the situation. Only driving her deeper into the pit of lust.
He drank and drank until there was nothing more than an ounce of blood left in her veins. Long after her forced orgasm had faded. On his last thrust she felt the warmth of his release coming out flush against her womb. Her limp body falling prey to one last jolt under the power of his throbbing hips.
She lay there, an empty shell of a girl. Her eyes staring at the canopy of the bed, seeing but not seeing. Her arms and legs were useless, as was every other part of her body. Was she still alive? She felt so dissolute. So desolate.
He had done this to her, this...this thing on top of her. This creature. He was no man. A demon, perhaps. But no man, indeed. He had brought her within an inch of her life. And now he would sit here and watch her fade. He'd watch her die with that sick glint in his eyes.
She wanted to hiss or screech or anything when he detached himself from her neck. But neither would her tongue work. And she waited for him to finish her. To ridicule her and her sinful ways of submitting to his will. He would claim that she was not strong enough to fight him. He'd mock her.
It was a shitty way to die. At the hands, or teeth, of some vampiric demonic stranger. But there was nothing she could do about it now. There was no way she'd see her friends again. No way she'd see her lame parents that cared only to see her succeed for their own desires. Never would she see her school again and read her two page report. Nor would she get to go to that party and become popular like she had been wishing on.
But when he kissed his way up her neck to her ear, he whispered something that completely stopped the last few beats of her fading heart. And, for a brief moment, she recalled his story that he had spilt upon her earlier in the night, so similar to the Toshinaga maiden. He would offer to 'save' her from her depressing life. And she should have known the moment she saw his eyes go red and his mouth steal her blood, that she should have prepared for such a question to leave his mouth.
Something that, if she answered correctly, would either save or condemn her soul.
"How would you like to make a deal with Itachi, love?"
The Oni: was one of the most popular species of demons in Japanese folklore. His body is pink or blue, and his face is human yet grotesquely mis-shaped and flat. This creature had a huge mouth that ran from ear to ear and a prominent third eye in the middle of his forehead. He only had three fingers and toes on each hand and foot, and they are actually talons. He has horns, the ability to fly, and he often drank and ate too much, as well as randomly abducted young Japanese maidens for the purposes of mating, stealing their souls, and eating their flesh.
Geta: wooden Japanese sandal.
Castle: not referring to the medieval castles in England! Duh...
Tokugawa Ieyasu Or Matsudaira Takechiyo/Motoyasu, became the most powerful man in Japan in 1598. Won the battle of Sekigahara in 1600 and was appointed shogun in 1603 by the emperor. Ieyasu's shogunate remained in control throughout the 'Tokugawa Period' or the 'Edo(present day Tokyo) Period' and other era's as well for over two hundred and fifty years until it fell under political pressure, thus the began Meiji era. Basically, I just think Ieyasu was a pretty awesome dude. You should Google him sometime.
The Whitechapel Murderer: Earned the name 'Jack the Ripper' or 'Saucy Jacky' from the first two 'Dear Boss' letters sent to an editor after several of his murders, the second note smeared with blood. The third controversial letter was addressed 'From Hell' and sent with half a human kidney that had been preserved in spirits (alcohol.) It is not known if either of these three letters were genuine.
Ifout of the hundreds of faux letters that were sent, that either letter is authentic, I find myself leaning toward the 'From Hell' note stating that he had already eaten half the woman's kidney. Which, upon examination, proved to have Bright's Disease–a illness suffered by the murderers latest victim. Was this work done by a madman? A doctor? Perhaps someone with a deeper purpose other than sexual sadism? I can't help but believe that we will never know.
Go here: www .crimelibrary. com/serialkillers/notorious/ripper/index1. html to learn more of the infamous murderer. Take out the spaces. Here you will find detailed chapters and descriptions of the murders and the order of his work. See real pictures of the victims, Whitechapel church, pictures of the possible suspects and read the letters that were sent.
Vlad Tepes Dracula: Transylvania, Romania. Belonged in the Order of the Dragon(a semimilitary and religious group.) Name 'Dracul' means Dragon. 'Dracula' means son of the Dragon. Later German Saxons twisted 'Dracul' to mean Devil in order to blacken his reputation. Many of his infamous acts upon humanity were committed for revenge against the assassinations of his father and eldest brother. Vlad became quite known for his brutal punishment techniques; he often ordered people to be skinned, boiled, decapitated, blinded, strangled, hanged, burned, roasted, hacked, nailed, buried alive, stabbed, etc. He also liked to cut off noses, ears, sexual organs and limbs. But his favorite method was impalement on stakes, hence the surname "Tepes" which means "The Impaler" and at one time impaled some 20,000 captive Turks to achieve a victory against the Sultan. He insisted upon honesty and order during his first rule and looked upon the poor, vagrants and beggars as thieves. Consequently, he invited all the poor and sick of Wallachia to his princely court in Tirgoviste for a great feast. After the guests ate and drank, Dracul ordered the hall boarded up and set on fire. No one survived. Assassinated in 1476.
Czar Nicolai II: Last czar, or tsar, of Russia.