To speak or not to speak?

Saikawa Kotori had struggled with this dilemma for a very long time. On one hand, she feared retaliation from the Demon Lord if he realized that she was anything more than an ordinary soul trapped inside bottle. On the other hand, it was maddeningly dull to be isolated in a cramped space seemingly forever. There was extensive research that solitary confinement in prisons led to numerous adverse outcomes, including dramatic psychological effects and hallucinations.

How long would Kotori be trapped inside a bottle? The university professor was almost afraid to think about this question. Would it be a few months? Years? Decades? Centuries? Was it even possible for her to die? Was she immortal? If she was moved to the attic and abandoned for a thousand years, would she go insane? 

At best, Kotori hoped it would only be a temporary circumstance. By biding her time, she could observe her surroundings and think carefully about her next decision. As a child, she had been a board game aficionado, and she likened her actions to moves on a go board. She never did well in the tournaments with time pressure. Instead, she preferred play-by-mail correspondence games where she could leisurely deliberate her choices and take a walk outside. Often times, her best ideas came to her after a nice long restful nap.

She had planned reveal herself to the Demon Lord eventually.

But when was the right time?

+ + +

Demon Lord Mephistos dragged his feet across the lush carpet, limping heavily. A trail of blood followed him from the door, staining the floorboards as vital fluids continued to pool out of his wounds. He groaned slightly when he reached his desk, his legs staggering. The demon leaned on the furniture for support, but he only had one arm to hold himself up.

Slowly, he slid to the floor. His single bloody arm left a bright streak across the papers on the desk.

"Is this end?" Mephistos spoke aloud bitterly.

His head sank to his chest. His breathing was shallow, strained slightly, and he was obviously in terrible pain.

Kotori waited for a few minutes, but the Demon Lord said nothing else.

He simply sat there, staring off blankly.

She took that as a bad sign. He wasn't even angry or infuriated, which she had gotten quite used to in the last couple months. In his sleep-deprived state, the Demon Lord would normally rage around and break a couple things until finally he calmed down. This apathy was different. It was resignation. The Demon Lord was cornered and backed up against a wall. His enemies had placed him in check-mate. Given the golden falchion sticking out of his back, Kotori assumed it was the doing of the 'Hero' that she had heard so much about.

If she understood the situation correctly, this meant the Demon Lord's death was imminent?

Saikawa Kotori wasn't positive if Mephistos's death was favorable to her. If he died, it was possible that she would be left to rot in this castle for thousands of years. There was no guarantee that anybody would walk by and pick up her bottle. Even if someone did find her, it seemed unlikely for them to know a niche technique like inserting a soul into an undead homunculus. The process seemed very similar to necromancy, which Kotori presumed to be a taboo form of black magic that was far from common knowledge.

In either case, Kotori's instincts told her that she needed to act now or forever hold her peace.

She reshaped her amorphous gaseous body inside the bottle into a short script of characters.

『 གབ་གྲུཚི་』

(Not - The - End)

A short message of shimmering letters.

Several months ago, she had figured out that it was possible to manipulate the physical shape of her soul. Although her true body was largely transparent, Kotori found out that she could change the color, shape, and orientation of the foggy blob inside the vessel. It felt a little bit like doing mental yoga, but with practice she could form herself into recognizable shapes and contours. As a joke, she once made herself into a ship in the bottle, although she took care not to be seen by anyone.

The Demon Lord couldn't hear her voice unless he was touching the bottle, so Kotori's goal was to get his attention.

The wounded man looked up from his knees.

The glass bottle was located on the bookshelf directly on the opposite side of room, right in his line of sight. He seemed to see it immediately, and Mephistos frowned deeply.

"Fuck you," he said.

『 ཡི་མ་གོ་』

(You - Have - Chance)

Demon Lord Mephistos tried to push himself up, but he coughed and spluttered blood. 

There was an angry glare in his eyes again.

"Damn Orkruz. He was wrong about everything. How long have you been watching me?" His voice was raspy and labored.

Kotori chose to ignore the question, and she pressed along.

『 ཡི་སྡུས་རྟཙེ་』

(You - Should - Try)

The black-haired demon was in a sour mood.

He raised his remaining hand, and suddenly Kotori felt a lunch. The bottle went flying across the room and landed plop in Mephistos's bloody palm. It was just like the Force from Star Wars. Kotori had never known that the Demon Lord had such a telekinesis ability. Every day that she spent in this universe, she was always encountered new surprises.

"Who the hell are you?" He growled the bottle.

The 34-year-old Japanese woman took a deep breath. Although she had played many variations of this scenario out in her head extensively, her entire body was filled with anxiety. Suddenly faced with the demon lord's fury, it made Kotori quiver and forget her words at the tip of the tongue.

She was an academic theorist and scientist — not an actor or a performance artist.  

(J-Just a friendly neighbor), she stammered unintentionally.

"What is your name?"

(My name is Shōchō).

This was an alias. Her name, Kotori (琴里), sounded very similar to "Little Bird" (小鳥). By choosing an alternate reading, it could be pronounced as Shōchō. The Demons did not speak Japanese (although she never had any issues understanding them), so it seemed like a safe bet to rely on her native language.

Mephistos frowned further.

"You are lying to me," he hissed. "That is not your true name."

Kotori had read many fantasy novels where 'names' were important for a demon's power. She had been unwilling to take such a risk in this situation, so she had defaulted to a fake name as a precaution. Demon Lord Mephistos seemed particularly hung-up on the fake alias, which seemed to suggest that this universe possibly operated on a similar principle.

How frightening. She made a mental note never to tell anyone her true name.

"Who are you really?"

Telling him that she was a human was absolutely out of the question. Kotori had learned over the months that the Demon Lord was at war with the human nations, and she also knew that he despised humans with a burning passion. Therefore the most pressing objective was to pick a response that was favorable for her situation yet still plausible.

(I'm just a witch), she lied. (I specialize in divination. Would you like me to tell you your fortune?)

"Absolutely not," the Demon Lord responded immediately.

He had a skeptical look in his scarlet eyes. Kotori could tell that he did not fully trust her. She now suspected that he had some kind of ability that allowed him to detect lies. If this was true, this would make it especially difficult for her, as she would need to watch her words very carefully.

(As I said, this isn't the end. Why have you chosen to forfeit everything?) Kotori tried to sound mysterious and detached.

"There is no better outcome," Mephistos bristled, the ragged hair on his head quivering slightly.

(You have not exhausted all your options. You are reluctant to use them. You are afraid.)

The Demon Lord immediately went silent.

(I'm sure we both know what you need to do next), Kotori pressed again. 

This was a pure bluff.

Frankly, Kotori had no idea what was supposed to happen next, but she hoped that the Demon Lord had some kind of plan. This was a common strategy employed by quack fortune-tellers. By suggesting something that was sufficiently vague, it was possible to take advantage of the client's affirmation bias.

Demon Lord Mephistos still hadn't moved from his position.

Did he buy it?

A sour smile crept up the dark-skinned man.

"Yes... Yes... You are right."

He groaned as he pushed himself to his knees.

"I see why you revealed yourself now, witch. This couldn't have been a more opportune time."

The office background suddenly melted away into blackness. Kotori felt a splinting headache as the scene changed, but in the next instant she found herself in an unadorned room. The walls were made of stone, and there was no entrance or exit. The only feature in this room was an ominous single black coffin.

The Demon Lord had teleported them to some kind of crypt.

Kotori had a gnawing feeling that she knew exactly what was inside of that coffin.

"I won't give you exactly what you want," Mephistos smirked.

Kotori hesitated here. She hadn't foreseen this.

(Are you sure you know what it is that I want?)

"You are you delusional if think you can trick a Demon Lord into your schemes."

He limped forward, his steps heavy and slow.

(Erm, I think you're overthinking it).

This was the truth. Kotori was starting to get slightly concerned now. Had she overplayed her cards? Apparently, the Demon Lord had bought into her bluff too well, and assumed that she had some kind of complicated scheme that didn't exist.

With herculean strength that seemed to come out of nowhere, the dark-skinned man pried open the sealed lid of the coffin with his bare hands. The seasoned wood screamed and groaned underneath the pressure. Suddenly, the wood snapped, exposing the coffin's contents to the stale underground air.

It was the undead sheep girl.

She laid atop a bed of white flowers.

Kotori had a chilling feeling as she looked upon the burnt corpse.

There was the rattle of chains all around, and Kotori shifted her awareness. Dozens of chains slithered around the room like snakes, and a set of shackles latched themselves onto each of the homunculus's limbs. There was some kind of shining inscription on each manacle, which indicated that these were no ordinary locks.

"I have never trusted you, unnamed spirit." The Demon Lord muttered with a dark voice.

Kotori didn't even have a response.

"I will seal away any abilities you have."

She slowly started to realize the implications of those chains.

(This is entirely unnecessary), Kotori protested belatedly.

Kotori said this with total sincerity. Despite the things that she had said earlier, she was still an ordinary human. Aside from her awareness, Kotori lacked any magic or abilities. She was as harmless as a fly, even though the Demon Lord seemed to consistently overestimate her threat level.

Mephistos coughed up blood once more while clutching the bleeding hole in his abdomen. The golden falchion was still impaled in his back.

He hurled the glass bottle at the ground, shattering it.

"You are mine until I have no further use for you," he growled.

For an instant, Kotori felt the freedom of the sky. She expanded like a noble gas to fill the air.

But then there was an anchor, drawing her back.

There was a stifling feeling of being dragged underwater, and then she was locked inside again.

Manacles around her arms.

∎

ohko

I've really been debating the tags for this story. I didn't really intend to do this when I first started writing, but somehow the story collected a Stockholm Syndrome plot with vague BDSM elements. I don't really plan to make this story explicitly BDSM (nothing too blatant), meaning I hope to move past this phase within a few chapters, and neither of these aspects are supposed to be major focuses of the story. However, I wonder if it's necessary to tag these things? Let me know what you think!