Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, nor do I own the title Red—that belongs to various authors' youkai!Inuyasha fics—nor the idea of how to name chapters, which I got from Salome Sensei.

A/N: My reason for writing this is because I wanted Inuyasha to be a cold-blooded killer and write about his demon side; I also had a vision of him alone on a battlefield, killing off all these humans… It won't flow together like an easy story would, too; it'll have time and scene skips. The color of the chapters reveal whose POV it's from. Hope you enjoy!


A war rages between the humans and demons—they live no longer in peace and compromise, but bloodbaths and death. Humans insist they're homicidal beings with no feelings and treacherous characteristics, demons thinking of them as the murderous traitors. 250 years ago, the war had begun because of an affair between a demon lord and human princess—and his second yet half-demon heir was born. Outraged, the humans struck a worthless attack on the demon castle, thinking they were holding the princess hostage and keeping her as a slave. However, the youkai begged to differ, and battles raged on, now each species working hard to exterminate the other. Inuyasha, the half-demon born, is now the key to winning the war—with the right dose of venom, his youkai blood takes over and he goes on killing sprees; it's only him against a thousand humans in each battle. But one evening, as he fights in his full-demon form, one of the soldiers turns out to be a woman, and his youkai heart is immediately stolen. Meanwhile, his half-brother Sesshoumaru is killing off a human village when he comes across a girl he automatically takes a liking to and lets survive. It is said that the Inu no Taishou's castle in the Western Lands is the youkai species' only refuge, and his property is the safest place for demons out there as well. However, when the princes bring home human females, it will be proven that the castle is not safe for everyone—whether they be demon or human, there is someone in the castle eager to rid the world of more beings, and his top victims happen to be the royal family and those closest to them…

This story is dedicated to nightfalcon222,
who's amazing beyond words and
will stay that way for the rest of eternity.


1: Red Birth

He was a complete fiend, a savage beast hungry for the feel of blood on his claws and cries to massage his hearing. As his father's men warily released him from his restraint of a holy cage, now full-demon and all, the scent of apprehension was thick, even overcoming the odor of guts and death. The hanyou-turned-youkai charged into battle head-on, the only warrior fighting against hundreds of humans as the others stepped back, letting him do his work.

He was red.

It was in his vision, on his tongue, in his mind, on his nerves, clogging all senses from almost everything surrounding him—except a few things, though they weren't extremely pleasant, as his mother would say.

Violence. Shrieks. Tears. Organs.


He could smell it everywhere. It soaked the ground, coated the trees, dug into the creases of his hands, and fed the soil below, followed by screams that fell deaf to his inhuman ears. Like many times before, he'd somehow gathered the reason to acknowledge that yes, he was a killer. And he gained absolute hatred from others for admitting he lived for the game, the hunt between demon and human, man and monster—or, in his fully demonic eyes, the strong versus the weak, the predators against their prey.

He would win.

He was the predator; they were his prey.

He felt a man's insides when his arm impaled the soldier's torso, the rush of his plasma and pumps of his heart making the full-demon's arm throb. His muscles were constructed with swift roughness, his teeth gone numb from his jaw clenching too much. He smirked with sadistic pleasure at the man's pain, satisfying his bloodlust once the victim drooped before being aggressively tossed aside.

The process repeated; freeze in place, sense a presence, strike, shrug off, growl, smirk, laugh, and redo. Humans never learned from their mistakes, doing the same damned thing over and over again until their stupidity led to their demises and ate them away. Taking two fingers, he pierced one of the last dozen men's eyes, leaving the being half-blind as he cried out in agony. The animal of the field gave an amused tilt of the head before punching him messily, leaving the human to collapse to the ground with a void occupying his chest.

That was when saw it.

It being a person.


She, whose feminine form was adorned in weaponry of sorts. She, whose face was surrounded by wild raven hair. She, who smelt strongly of sakura and sweets. She, who was garbed in a human soldier's costume. She, whose sapphire eyes glazed over with each attack committed.

She, who stood in fear of the now full-demon in front of her.

She, who trembled in his wake.

She, whose blood taunted him so.

It was strange, coming across a woman on the battlefield. It was forbidden, actually; women were made for the house and childbearing, men for work and war. But seeing her there, scared and untamed, sent pleasant shivers down his spine, widened his menacing smirk, made his blood curdle in the most gratifying of ways as his mind drifted from the blood to her tantalizing scent. He was surmounted with immediate lust upon seeing her frightened figure and for a moment, all thoughts revolved around her.

She, who was now his.


His arm plunged into that of what used to be a man's head who'd been running towards him, spear in hand. She let out a strangled gasp. He flicked the human away instantly, bringing his blood-covered, clawed fingers up in front of him in a careless manner, the back of his hand facing her, giving a magnificent view of his natural weapons. "Mine," he announced in a throaty growl, making her shift on her feet, staring at him in confusion and dread.

Such an ugly scent, fear was on her.

Such a delicacy he wished to chase away…

Taking a deep inhale of her aroma, overlooking the cloud of death looming above, all fell silent as men continued with their fighting, approaching the distracted youkai, but never lasting more than a second. Slowly, the last of them dissipated, and she took a step backward, away from him, who still punched his way through the few lasting bodies, clawing and tearing at whatever blocked his path.



Now, surrounded by corpses, the two gazed at each other, her with a look akin to horror, his bleated with lust. In a blur, she ran; on instinct, he chased. Echoes of demonic voices rang after him as they steered from the battlefield, an abandoned meadow, and into the dense forest, tangles of branches and vines. Her scent overpowered everything else; she, the mouse, was leaving a breadcrumb trail for him, the hawk, to follow with ease. He glided over all earth, rushed past every tree, nose picking up nothing but her lure.


All his.

Eventually, like every other weakling, a snap resonated through the thick shrubbery, and her screams scratched his ears. Calmly, unworried by her sharp breathing and whimpers, he slowed the pace, well aware of her blood blanketing his senses.

Broken ankle.

Always the broken ankle.

She struggled to her feet; that was expected, almost eminent. All humans thought they could bring strength together to solve the inevitably impossible, all assumed they could fix things easily, endure them with such feeble souls they had. She leaned against bark for support, holding her injury lightly with a frail hand. When she looked up, her eyes meeting his, he grinned ominously, revealing all fangs, sharp and lengthened with bloodlust—

With a promise for what was to come.

Immediately, she collapsed, her eyes closing as her movement and stance turned clumsy. A sickening smile grew across his face again, her submission evident and oh-so-satisfying to his current state of blood. He terrorized her, sent her heart pounding and nerves jumping, and he wasn't complaining. He was still the hunter of course, craving carnage, and she was his prey.

However, this was a much different game than the silly battles he fought often.

He would enjoy this game much, much more.

Mine. All mine. Not hers.


Ignoring the shouts of his allies behind him, the hunter's heart thudded, pulse hardening at the sight of the maiden in her sleep, her hair thrashed across the forest floor, eyes closed peacefully, mouth unhinged and body limped. He growled in acceptance of her condition, lifting her carelessly into his arms, a sense of possession clenching at his heart as he gazed down at her.

"Mine," he murmured in declaration, her body ragged while the other youkai's eyes widened in disbelief. His eyes lightened to pink, but his grip tightened all the more on the woman soldier in his arms, whose name, history, everything was a mystery, but whose scent calmed his very soul, whose appearance stirred the gates of his demon. He faintly recognized the nonthreatening presence of the beings behind him, carried them as no threat, but he snarled nonetheless when one took a step closer to what was his.


As his comrades led him back to their transportation systems, going through the substantially intimidating woods and publicly unkempt graveyard, he held the female to his chest, letting her legs hang limply over his arm, thinking only of her, who was his, who his demon recognized immediately, but confused his usual and human selves to no end.

In a soft, purring rumble, he addressed her unconscious form. "Mate."