With black hair so long that it almost touched the floor, and black robes that stood in contrast to his original white ones, Kiran walked through the halls of the prison that housed his chambermaid.
With strength that had remained almost unchanged, but with the [Intelligence] that had decreased significantly, the fallen [Shishya] crossed cells after cells as he ignored the denizens within. The naked form of the women and their captivity eluded a vulnerability that spoke to him, but they were not his destination.
With [Wisdom] and [Reason] almost halved and [Will] lost in its entirety, the dead hope of an entire clan arrived at his destination and the sound of his footsteps died. This destination was a cell that contained a specific chambermaid.
As if sensing his arrival, the stone bars of the cell dissolved and allowed him entry. No doubt the work of the permission ward-stone he carried. Kiran stepped forward and the sound of his footsteps echoed. But it was not the man that spoke but the chambermaid.
“In the darkness of the night, walk the dead on a deserted road, ignorant of their own death.” Her feminine voice made the fallen ascetic’s body react in ways that he found both pleasant and abhorrent.
His dark face twisted and he snarled. He stalked forward with large steps and grabbed the woman’s face within his huge palms. His fingers dug into her cheeks and chin but the only emotion in her dead eyes was disdain.
“What did you say?” He lowered his voice to whisper harshly, perhaps he had meant to growl like an animal. He increased the power of his grasp then and his nails broke the woman’s skin to dig in. “What did you say?!”
“Did you not hear me?” The woman’s nonchalant voice escaped from her jaws which remained clenched in his palm. “Or do you just want to hear more of my voice?”
His fingers trembled, wanting to crush the mouth that dared mock him, but he didn’t. After all, he could no longer heal if he harmed her beyond what her body could stand.
The woman raised a dainty hand and gently patted the long black hair of the fallen ascetic. “Even shame could possess such beauty, I had not known.” She said as her soft voice lingered. A moment passed and then she began to laugh.
The sound of her laugh, unlike her voice, was hideous. It arose not from her heart and throat but seemed to arise from her stomach and hate. The sound of her revolting laugh almost seemed to cause bile to rise in the back of one's throat.
But the repulsive sound had the opposite effect on the long-haired man and his body reacted out of his control. His crotch became alert and his free hand found one of the woman’s breast and he squeezed without mercy.
“You cursed woman!” He spat. Quite literally and the flying glob of spit landed on the woman’s face.
“Cursed I am, yes.” The woman said as the glob of spit slid down her face and her eyes met Kiran's. The black-clad man saw nothing in them, it was as if they were the eyes of the dead. “But a woman I am not.”
The man laughed. The laugh resounded in the tiny cell and spoke of nothing but madness. “Is that so?” He asked and his eyes narrowed. His face twisted into a cruel version of itself. Or perhaps, it was the true version of itself.
Meanwhile, he released her breast and his hand snaked down her body until it reached the woman’s crotch. If it had been anyone else but her, they would have shivered in disgust. But the woman did not and her eyes remained as dead as ever.
Kiran’s finger penetrated her crotch to grab her by it and his low growl seemed to resonate with her flesh. “This. What is this then?!”
The woman did not reply and the man dropped his robes as he invaded her flesh with his own.
What came after was not something unfamiliar to the woman. She had lost count of the number of times that she had gone through the same. She counted not anymore, the number of times she would go through the same in the future.
0.0
The body of a woman lay alone in a cell, covered in blood and other bodily fluid that were better left unsaid. Viscous white globs slid down his body, made slippery by the blood that covered it.
The woman’s breathing was ragged and his body was brutally beaten. His flesh was covered in bite marks as if an animal had unsuccessfully tried to eat him alive.
But the woman cared not for any of that and his eyebrows furrowed, the bruised skin of his forehead crinkled and his closed eyes squinted as an ethereal card began to take shape within his Mana System, right where his heart should have been.
The card was white with a blood hibiscus etched right in the centre. Its bright red petals countered the white, meanwhile, its pistil emerging from within the depth of the blood flower fell like the tongue of a serpent.
At that moment, the card finished manifesting its first face and flipped to showcase the other, which etched itself within the woman’s Mana System.
This side of the card was quite different from its other one. This face was white. Not white. Just white. It was the white of the dying flowers and dirtied marbles. It was the white of the decaying bones and the white of the muddy waterfalls.
Within this washed-out white was the frame of a mortal male in the colour that was the bright azure of the mana itself. The figure was bound and chained in such a way that its limbs stuck out in positions that were not natural. The nearly glowing azure figure of the mortal and his chains seemed almost alive on the backdrop of the dull white.
It was just as the card had almost finished manifesting itself that it collapsed as its ethereal boundaries shattered and dissolved back into the Mana System of the woman.
The woman panted and gasped as he opened his bloodshot eyes.
“…soon.” His feminine voice gasped out. “…soon.”
Ting.
| [Attribute [Will] has been increased by 1.] |
-X-
Within a desolate desert, inside a dilapidated shop, on a simple chair, a youth seemingly slept.
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