Deleterious Deploration


Dated the year 1497:

It was vile—the things they did to the children and mothers. The men were killed, despite their audacious onslaught, leaving their wives and heirs in the grasp of the rancid demons. I was able to survive, watching in consternation as they inexorably raped the women and butchered the children. And then a man revealed himself…

His eyes—

They were the eyes of a heavenly being fallen to earth.

I was overly gay, thinking perhaps he had come to save them. Something, even I had not the boldness to do.

But he watched.

And I realized that those eyes, brewed from the mixture of honeysuckle and sunlight, were the eyes of a demon.

He—was their leader.




The morning dew was spiraling down the trunks of the trees gracing the front lawns of many of the houses in the neighborhood. The neighborhood was known for its attraction to the tourists, whom visited the humble area of Japan over the summers and even winters. A shrine was cast in the plethora of houses, tended to by three members of the household. For a Saturday evening it was unusually quiet.

"Kagome, come with me. I need you to do something," the main caretaker of the shrine demanded of his granddaughter, gesturing to the expanse of the spacious shed that rested by the sacred Go-shinboku God-tree.

Kagome nodded and followed her grandfather, not the least bit curious about what he was going to show her or have her do. The legends he cooked up were, to put it plainly, ridiculous.

The old man hobbled his way to the shed, sliding open the screen to enter. Dust feel from the tops of the slab of see through material and Kagome coughed, covering her nose with her hand.

"Gramps, what are we doing?" she asked. She had a good idea he would make her clean the shed, seeing as no one had touched it for ages, afraid of some legend her grandfather, had yet again, unwittingly conjured up.

"I need you to organize the books in here," he said, jabbing a wrinkled finger over towards the scattered pile of worn and new books.

"Okay Gramps," the girl complied.

Her grandfather nodded his head before exiting the spacious area, leaving his granddaughter to her work.




"Why do I have to do this," Kagome mumbled to herself, a cloth—taking the place of an actual mask—muffling her words slightly. She grabbed the first book she saw and began dusting it off, before curiosity consumed her. She cracked the worn leather cover open. It looked old—1400s old.

She sighed and skimmed through the pages. If it weren't for the ink and penmanship, she would have thrown the book up on the shelf and just have forgotten about it.

Her eyes soon widened at the gruesome description the writer had written down of a demon lord's doings. Soon, unaware that she did, Kagome had indulged herself in the book—never ceasing her concentration, despite the moon rising and the air becoming crisp.




Dated the year 1497:

Too many times have I seen his doings. Each night, I sit above them, watching as they rest, pondering if I will ever have the courage to stop them from their gruesome outings. One night, two full moons ago, I followed them on an outing. They rampaged the village, killing the stock, making no sound. At first I was sure they had discovered me. I hid in a nearby cloak of trees, masking my scent before continuing onward.

They chuckled, basked in the moonlight, bathed lackadaisically in the blood.

They were cruel.

Guts scattered among the ground, mixed with earth.

I could not bear to watch as they rampaged the village, continuing with their abysmal assaults. Screams echoed through the mountains, the cries of younglings. It was horrid. And as I stayed hidden, the leader turned around.

I could have sworn—

He was looking right at me.




Kagome skimmed through the pages once more. Why? Why on earth would someone want to follow a tyrant on his rampages? She'd ask her grandfather about the book. Perhaps he could spare her some insight. She quickly scuttled towards the screen door, surprised at the sudden darkness that surrounded her. She'd finish the book job later.

When did it become nighttime?

"Gramps!" she yelled, entering her home. She made her way to the kitchen where she knew they would all be residing. "Gramps?"

Her mother shook her head. "He went to bed sweetheart, he wasn't feeling well."

"Oh," was Kagome's ever so intelligent answer. I'll just ask him about it tomorrow then…

"Hey sis," her brother greeted, stuffing a rice ball into his mouth.

Kagome ruffled the twelve-year-old's hair, drawing a whine of protest from between his lips. Kagome's mother laughed. "Come get some food dear," she said to Kagome, gesturing to the dishes she had set out on the table.


"Yes dear?" she asked with a smile.

Kagome brought the book out to plain view from where it was tucked underneath her arms. "Do you know what this is?" she asked, passing the book over to her mother.

Her mother examined it in question, her brows furrowing the slightest bit. "I'm not sure sweetheart. Ask your grandfather in the morning."

Kagome nodded and continued to eat her dinner.




"Hey Kagome," Eri greeted from the other side of the phone.

Kagome flopped down on her bed. "Hey. What's up?" she asked, flipping through the pages of the book.

"Hojo wants to know if you want to go out with him," Eri blurted, a grin gracing her pink lips. Kagome groaned in infuriation. Why did he insist on making it a point to ask her out every weekend when he knew the answer was going to be no?

"Eri, you already—"

"Know your answer. I know. Come on Kags, just give him a chance."

"Why," Kagome drew out, closing the journal she had acquired earlier. Hojo was nice; it was just his unnerving persistency that made her want to ring his neck. "If you like him so much you go out with him. Seriously, be my guest."

"Think about it Kags. I have to go though. I'll talk to you Monday ok?"

"Yeah, yeah. Bye." Kagome hung up the phone, not waiting for her friend's response. Knowing Eri, she'd probably just bug her more about going out with the 'ever so popular' Hojo.




Dated the year 1497:

The day was calm, though for me, the only objects I see are rocks, cliffs, and dirt. They travel in the most desolate areas, I with them. You may be wondering how I acquired the curiosity to follow these monstrosities.

The answer is simple.

I follow them for safety.

I know that wherever they happen to travel, demons of any sort steer clear of their campsites, knowing their only fate will be that of walking among the deceased.




Morning came quickly, the book tucked beneath her cheek, soft snores escaping her lips as she blissfully slept. A cold wind blew across the cheek that was facing upwards and she shivered involuntarily. Her eyes cracked open slowly, not aware of her surrounding.

"Kikyo! Get some water from the basin!"

Kagome paid no heed to the different smells and noises surrounding her. She groaned slightly before opening her eyes fully, pushing herself from the ground. She grabbed the journal before standing, realizing she had become quite attached to the leather back book.

It felt as if each time she read it, she was part of the person who was there.

"Kikyo! Where is the water!"

Her brows furrowed in befuddlement. Who is Kikyo?

For the first time, she noticed the room was nothing like her own. Where was she?

She hugged the journal to her chest and slowly made her way to the old fashioned door, something that would have been used centuries before she was born. A girl rushed passed her, her charcoal hair swaying behind her, a few drops of water escaping the bucket that she was cradling in her arms.

"Excuse me," Kagome called out timidly.

The girl whipped around, nearly dropping the wooden bucket in the process. Her cinnamon brown eyes widened in surprise at seeing Kagome in front of her.

"W—who are you?" she asked.

Kagome pinched her arm. This has to be a dream. Why is everything so different? What's going on?

"What are you wearing? That is hardly decent!" the woman screeched, appalled.

Kagome looked down at her attire. What was wrong with it? A pair of shorts and a tank top? And then a thought hit her. "W—what time is this?"

"Time?" the woman questioned.

"The year."

"Oh. Fourteen ninety seven."

Kagome nearly fainted.




A/N: Hoped you liked started out as one thing and ended as another--OMG so we ACTUALLY got snow here! Yay! See I live in Tucson and I think the last time it like actually snowed was the christmas of 1987! Ha so much for global warming. Anyways, tell me what you think. Review!