long time no update, eh? (inspired loosely by Macbeth and the three witches, but I bet you could tell that already.)
In a past life, Karin assumes she was doomed to die. She gets glimpses of a life gone past, of three witches in a tower, hovering around brews of steaming sickness, around a body, so pale and pristine in the moonlight even with blood on the windows. She remembers its eyes – sees them the most, the blood-stain red irises (splattered over cold onyx) boring into her wicked soul. She's woken up shivering more than once and it's been no comfort to again find no one beside her. (why would there be, really, she is a loner and a spinster and love is not meant for girls like her, with spindly fingers and scarred skin.)
Sasuke knew he would die young when he was a boy. He was the youngest born to die before his time, with blood-red eyes and a curse that causes it. Like the werewolf that goes feral in the full moon, Sasuke is a man doomed to be a slave to his eternal curse, doomed to love one if not none, doomed to be alone. He does not dream. Dreaming requires undisturbed sleep, a pure mind, anything but what Sasuke advertises. (peace is not for him, either, he is turmoil incarnate, with storming eyes and emaciation rampant.)
They meet on the train. He's going uptown and she's just going to get food because again, her fridge is empty, and of all things, he sees the wicked eyes she hides behind frames.
"Your eyes," he begins, his hands curling around the cool metal of the subway poles. "What colour are they?"
"Maroon. Sometimes crimson if the light is right." Even in the way she speaks, rough and wary in the most welcoming way, is beautiful to him, like a revelation so demanding that he can scarcely remember what he could have possibly been doing with his life before "Why, got something to say about them just like everyone else?"
"No." he says shortly. "They're just familiar."
"Hn. What's so familiar about bloody eyes, hm, Mister?" Familiar to him, at least. Blood-razed eyes are old news to her. She crosses her legs as he begins to speak, his voice pitching and halting before evening out.
"There's an old tale, of a man deprived of true power, with such a hunger he will do anything. He stumbles upon three witches in the hills, three anxious women with ambitions too high and powers unattainable, but one, and one only, sparks his interest. The one, amongst pink and gold, with red all upon her. The other two, they distrust him once they peer inside of him, distrust him as they do the other witch for both bear a curse that cannot be cleansed. But the other, she sees his hunger for what it is – desire of the deepest kind. A searing loneliness. And this witch, she conspires to save him, to pull him from his circles of hell and make him anew. But the other two, they want nothing more than to string him up, for they have been falsely enamored by his wickedness for too long. They see a curse in him where the other sees a chance. The witches, they set a trap, they set the other witch aflame and bait the man in with the cries of agony the red one emits. And he comes, and he dies for the red one, for the one he thought was just another wolf in lamb's clothes, when really she was the wolf itself, bare and without need of disguise. He dies for power and of the witches three, the third one follows him into his darkness and they are reborn as the very things they desired, curses intact. And the red one, all she saw in her sleep was his death, so she scattered at her rebirth, far away, and left the other to find her for they were fated to be together as per their sacrifice. One sacrificed their eyes and the other sacrificed their skin because they thought it'd save the other." He takes a breath, his eyes blinking shut as Karin slowly lowers her hood to reveal her crimson hair. "That's why your eyes are familiar. My mother used to tell me that tale to scare me, and you remind me of the red witch."
"Does that make you the cursed man?" She recoils a little, her eyes meeting his and, of course, his eyes are the same onyx she sees in her dreams except clear, the red eyes that were splattered on a waxy body boiling underneath so vividly. "I'm Karin." She holds out a hand, her sleeve pulling back at the motion, and she prays, no, begs that he does not look down and see her skin, see the angry black marks that cover her skin.
He does, and his deliriously intoxicating gaze hits her like the very train they ride.
"Sasuke Uchiha," he says, shaking her hand firmly. She watches as his eyes spin, onyx unfurling to a terrifying crimson. "And I believe you and I have some thing to discuss over dinner."
Fair is foul and foul is fair, hover through the fog and filthy air.
read and review! (also, the last line is actually from macbeth. oh ho ho.)