I don't think the wind tunnel scene is graphic, but just in case… here's a heads up… You can skip it, I suppose, I don't think you'll miss much. It's just a paragraph or two anyhow… I'm a little worried about it though…
It was the bleakest day of the year. There was a severe storm brewing and white laid all over the ground. The snow fell hard on the ground, and it looked fierce and uninviting. The wind banged against the sides of a small hut, demanding entrance into the thin walls.
A middle-aged man looked over at his young wife, and heard her painful cries. She was in labor with their first child. He was helping her deliver the baby, and he could see a head, then the rest of his body slid out. The baby cried loudly and so did his wife. The new father took his son, and cleaned off his body. The child's cries had subsided, but the woman's tears seemed everlasting. Her husband gently laid his infant son in her arms, but still she wept.
She wept as she cradled him in her arms, and she rocked him almost feverishly. She just wanted to hold him this way forever, keep him safe forever, and have him forever. It seemed so right in the beginning, having a child, but now it seemed so wrong. They both felt the air change for the worse, because now it seemed so wrong. They had done a terrible, terrible thing, and there was no getting around it. The child was here now, and despite their efforts, he may not be around for much longer.
"Somehow, someway this boy will live." The man said to the woman. His voice shook a bit, but he said the words with a strange strength, as he looked at his beaded hand.
"God willing." The woman answered frailly. She hoped it was so.
"I believe it to be so," The said with strength. "He is not like his father, because he will win."
"God Willing." She whispered as she rocked the now very cranky baby boy.
: The Monk
It has been a good life, I suppose. I have never truly wanted for anything, and my parents did spoil me, although I do believe it was because they were actually guilty, and gifts were their only means of atonement. I accepted their gifts and all their praise, although all of us knew it was not justly earned. But, they believed that too was their fault, if only they had not cursed their only child from the start, then perhaps he would have amounted to more… I knew differently, but I did not correct them. I liked the gifts and the undeserved praise, so I exploited my dear old parents, because they had cursed me and I was doomed.
I always loathed the word 'doomed', it never failed to sound ridiculous and over the top. Perhaps, I had heard the word too many times, and I was just suffering from overuse of the word. But, there was no denying that I was the epitome of doomed, in every sense of the word. And, now the word was truly coming into it's own.
I was dying.
In all my twenty-one years, I have avoided the thought of how my death would be. Denial is so much easier to deal with, as opposed to reality, because reality is so…real. In reality, I am going to die rather prematurely and in a rather gruesome way, but in denial I am going to have a new set of robes and a locked room filled with anxious women. Don't you see how much better denial is?
But, there comes a time in every man's life when the music must be faced. Sadly, that time is right now. My hand is breaking apart, before my very eyes. My eyes are fixated on the disgusting sight with a strange fascination. The veins and vessels in my hand are snapping like dried twigs in my broken hand, and the blood carried to those veins is pumping out at such an alarming rate that it's a wonder I can still stand. The skin in my hand is peeling off in painful layers, and in a matter of seconds all of the outer skin of my hand will fall on to the dirty ground. I can see all of my flesh with stomach turning ease, and it's deteriorating as if I had been dead for one hundred years.
This was not how I envisioned my kazaana to suck me in. Apparently, there is a very large misconception in my family of how exactly the kazaana sucks its holder in. It would seem that the kazaana does not in fact stay attached to the cursed hand, while simultaneously sucking the holder in. Now that I think of it that does not make much sense. If my hand were to suck my body into it's hold, then how would my hand suck itself into it's own grasp? The whole thing would end looking like a very peculiar ball; my hand would be stuck inside itself, somewhat like a dog chasing it's tail. Well that just doesn't make much sense now…
No, I now understand how the wind tunnel actually works. The wind tunnel is trapped inside the holder's hand, and after an allotted amount of time, it finally has enough strength to break free. Which means that holder's hand must be split open, because the wind tunnel is stuck inside of the bone. In plainer words, the kazaana is ripping my hand open, so that it might break free, after which it will suck the remains of my body into it's grasp, then in fact suck itself into it's own hold. That is much like the hand theory, except the kazanna disappears altogether. Probably…
Now, after all of that thinking, I find that what's left of my brain hurts like the devil. I continue to watch while my very own hand is being slowly sliced apart, my fingers are going limp, and I can now see the white of the bones in my hand, quite clearly. I am beginning to wish for a diversion, because this entire ordeal is becoming quite sickening, and I can no longer feel my legs, and I suppose that's how I ended up on the hot ground.
I suddenly lift my head up quickly, because it was beginning to drop to my chest, I find that I no longer have the strength to keep it up. I was wondering why I had not yet fainted from the tremendous loss of blood that was currently pooling all around me, when I heard a high-pitched shriek. I did my best to lift my head in the direction of the voice, only to find that a girl was standing on the other side of the dirt path. I had specifically picked this spot because I believed that it was abandoned. I had no intentions of hurting anyone, but nothing ever works out as I planned.
With all of the power that was left in my body, I bellowed, "Go now! Run with haste girl!" Through my blurred vision, I could barely make out her face, but I focused all of my energy on her horrified expression, because it would be the last sight I would ever see. She looked pained at leaving, but she finally took my advice and ran with all of her might. There was something odd about that girl, but I did not have much time to contemplate some nameless girl and her oddness. The wind tunnel was breaking through the bones in my hand, crumbling them like dried leaves… At least I was too numb to feel all of the pain. Yes, lucky me.
The end is here.
And, the sun has the nerve to shine.
I still don't have child…
The kazaana was starting to pull my arm into its grasp, without any sort of gentleness.
"You have won, Naraku. Are you happy?" was my last conscious thought.
"Yes." His voice was the last thing I heard before my head was pulled into the ever -going wind.
Kagome still ran, although she was probably safe from danger at this distance. She hoped. Suddenly, Kaoru had the urge to stop her moving legs and turn to the way she had come. As she turned, she felt an unholy wind pull at her light body, but she grinded her heels into the dirt. She looked up and saw an amazing sight, horrible yes, but still freakishly amazing.
Only a few meters off were a strange phenomenon. Trees, grass, dirt, and pretty much everything in a twenty meter radius was being pulled into a strange central tunnel, made of wind. Kagome could visibly see the wind pulling everything into its grasp. She had never seen the like of it before, and it fascinated her, before she saw the most horrible object…or rather person being pulled into its hold. The young man that had warned her to go away was being pulled into the queer tunnel.
Kagome wanted to drop to her knees, and hold herself, but she refrained. Instead, Kagome made one desperate plea for the man that had saved her life. She pulled an arrow from the bag that was on her back, and quickly fixed it on the bow. She pulled back on the flexible bow, and prayed with all of her might that she would not miss. Kagome concentrated on what seemed to be the center of the strange winds (a black swirling disc) and let go. She held her breath as the arrow shot towards the scene, Kagome willed the arrow to do as it should, and prayed that her efforts had not been in vain. For a moment, the arrow soared through the air, before landing in its intended spot. Kagome would have cheered if the situation had been different. Now, she hoped that her arrow would do something.
It did. Instead of being sucked into the strong winds, the arrow seemed to pierce the very core of the wind tunnel. Slowly, the demonic winds were pulled into the swirling disc, which had Kagome's arrow embedded in its center. Without a moment's hesitation, Kagome ran back to the scene. Everything in the twenty-meter radius was gone; the land was barren in such a peculiar way, even the dirt seemed to have disappeared. Kagome found that her fatigue was becoming rather evident, but she desperately ran towards her arrow. Finally, she reached the arrow, and when she did, Kagome dropped to her knees.
She had done this because of her exhaustion and also because of the strange object in front of her.
It was a disk, which resembled a modern day Frisbee, except it was shrinking rather quickly. After a moment, it had stopped shrinking, and now it could fit in the palm of her hand. It was pitch black, but Kagome could see that it inside of the disk something was swirling and churning around rapidly. With a gulp, she guessed those were the trapped winds. Kagome debated what she would do with the evil disk, at first throwing it into the bottom of a lake seemed like a fine idea, but what if it was discovered? Someone could pull out her arrow and thus release the deadly winds, sucking in everything in the vicinity. Kagome could not allow that to happen!
In the end, Kagome decided she would very carefully take the disk back to Kaede's hut, and ask the old woman's advice. Perhaps…if she even dare dream it…there was a way to still help the kind man that had saved her. Or… at the very least give him a proper burial.
Kagome slowly reached out her hand, and grasped the churning disk with an unsteady hand. She willed herself to stop trembling and hold the disk with a firm grip, dropping the disk would definitely not help the situation. Kagome got off her knees, and began to walk in the direction she hoped would lead to the village. Daylight was disappearing before her eyes, and she had told Inuyasha she would come straight back, and that had been awhile ago…
End of chapter
Well, there we are. The new beginning. I feel good about it, how about you?
Oh, and so no one is put off or confused, this story will be told from 1st and 3rd pov's.
When I switch to first, I will put something like: The Monk or The Miko…you understand. I got the idea from Delirious aka CAPTAIN Obvious… She likes m/k too!
Perhaps, I should have warned that some parts were rather graphic? I just thought it was better to give a real description of how I thought the kazanna would suck him, because it would give the story more reality… but I don't think it was graphic…was it graphic?
The Disclaimer: oh this ridiculous