The Punisher (Seven) by Sesshoumaru's Fiend

The Punisher

Seven: the Punisher

 --Warning--

This story contains situations of violence, gore, torture, and human cruelty, and is not intended for the faint of heart.  If you wish to simply let these pages lie, that is fine with me. Keep your soful pure. However, if some twisted, deviant part of you yearns for more, then by all means, continue. Who am I to stop you?

Proceed at your own discretion.

Your author,
Sesshoumaru's Fiend

----

For these crimes, you must be punished. When the clock strikes nine, you'll be dead.

"Who's there?" Sesshoumaru looked about in the dark, attempting to determine where the ghostly, raspy voice came from. The tone sounded familiar.

Long has past your day of redemption. Now, you must pay.

Dim moonlight weaved its way through the shrub made roof. He glanced gingerly at his watch, trying to determine the hour. It was two in the afternoon, according to his wrist watch, yet the moon shone brightly.

Sesshoumaru whipped his head about, his long silver hair whipping about, taking in the scenery. To his left, right, back and front, ten-foot tall shrubs towered him. He shivered, although there was no wind. Hastily, he brushed a lock of his silver bangs out of his eyes and tried to determine where he had been taken.

He recalled sitting in a cozy bar, gulping down peach schnapps in celebration of his big promotion. Lots of backs had to be lumbered over to get to that job, but yet again he prevailed. To the left of him, a man in a black trench coat and black hat, pulled down past his eyes, was throwing back eye blasters.

At one point, Sesshoumaru accidentally fell back into the stranger's shoulder and shook him greatly. Not even bothering to apologize, he had stumbled out of the bar and onto the side walk, his expensive Italian suit slightly crinkled from the bar stool. The trench coat toting man quickly followed.

"Are you not going to apologize?"

"For what?" Sesshoumaru slurred, his demon-enhanced vision beginning to fail.

"For upsetting me and my drink."

"No. I don't owe you anything!"

"Not even an apology?"

"Damn straight."

"Then I am sorry, Sesshoumaru. But it's time for you to go."

"I am going...home."

"No, not home."

"What are you talking about?"

The man grinned beneath his collar. "The Forest of Cain."

As soon as the dark stranger spoke those words, Sesshoumaru was instantly standing in a dark, foliage-infested zone, completely encompassed by looming bushes.

Sweat began to mar his heated brow. Gold eyes wide, Sesshoumaru took tentative steps forward, letting the sole of his dress shoe skim along the ground. The swishing noise came as a comfort. Grass. Smooth, crisp grass. Like crushed velvet. Bending at the waist, Sesshoumaru let his pale, trembling fingers rake over the grass.

Shing!

Bolting upright, Sesshoumaru grasped one hand in the other. His right hand, which had barely skimmed the grass, was spurting blood from where his fingers used to sway. In their place was a handful of bloody stumps. He tried to scream, but found he could not activate his voice box. Shooting straight up his spine, a cold chill alerted an unwanted visitor.

You steal from others. Climb over those more deserving than you. Never do you donate, never do you volunteer. So self-consumed are you that you ignore the needs of others.

You ,Sesshoumaru, are greedy.

The voice came as quickly as it left and the maze sat in silence. Too silent. Not one breeze did tickle the quivering leaves. Not one bird did fill the air with their uplifting music. The world was dead.

Sesshoumaru felt a cool feeling slip from the edge of his mouth. Blood. Falling to his knees in the heart of the Forest of Cain, he cradled his dilapidated hand in his lap, rocking back and forth on his knees. Tears of anguish crawled down his face like spiders down a wall.

Finally finding his voice, Sesshoumaru let out a wretched scream, startling himself. Was it possible that such a scream came from him?

Resounding in the distance, a mutinous bell tolled once.

Bong! Bong! Bong!

Sesshoumaru's breath came out in rasping pants. His eyes scanned around the shrubs, taking in their contours and examining the designs. Lumbering off of his knees, Sesshoumaru, stumbled through the grass, staggering on wobbly legs. His heartbeat accelerated.

With legs of rubber, Sesshoumaru dodged around corners, skimming the sharp leaves. He had to find a way out! This all had to be some twisted, narcissistic game so screwed up fuck was playing. After a sharp left turn, Sesshoumaru found himself face to face with an imposing wall.

Determined to escape, he reached out toward the barrier, cautious of his actions. Scanning fingers felt for devious traps. With Joan of Arc bravery, Sesshoumaru thrust his left arm into the bush, feeling for any gaps.

Gut wrenching screams passed from Sesshoumaru's lips as his hand was enraptured in the bush. Sharp, pinpricks of pain knifed at his captive wrist. Yanking and pulling, Sesshoumaru managed to stumble away from the bush. Deep crimson blood spurted from the area where his wrist began.

Sun kissed eyes blurred and rolled back in his's head. He met the ground with a satisfying thump.

Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong!

Sesshoumaru sat up with a startle. The clock had tolled again. The maze seemed darker now. Less luminescent lunar light hailed through the overgrown trees. Stirring frantically, Sesshoumaru climbed his way to his feet with great difficulty. Small trickles of blood continued to pour from the stubs attached to his arms.

Sesshoumaru.

The chilling voice echoed throughout the twisted terror once more. The male's voice had a soft timbre, yet threatening tone.

Sesshoumaru. Inactivity can kill you. Better run!

Taking the warning into great heed, he took off like a bullet. Shooting down one path and scampering up another, Sesshoumaru ran into barrier after barrier, wall after all. Panicked pants burned his lungs. His neck cracked as he constantly glanced around him.

Run!

The voice sounded in front of him. There was no one there.

"Leave me alone!" Sesshoumaru let heart-anguished tears ripple down his face.

Thwack!

Razor sharp branches shot out in front of Sesshoumaru, lopping off his lower limbs. Unbeknownst to him, he continued to run on useless trunks for a couple of feet before collapsing onto his belly. Hot, sticky bloody surged from where his legs were amputated. He gnashed his teeth, trying to fight back the terrified screams. This couldn't be happening.

In all of your years of living, Sesshoumaru, you never once stepped out and lend a helping hand. You were always too tired, oto lazy. You could have been a stand for the pitiful to lean on, but you were too sluggish.

You, Sesshoumaru, are slothful.

Sesshoumaru let loose a mournful howl. Looking around pathetically, he tried to find some means of getting around. His legs were hacked off just above the knees and he had no fingers left to speak of. Whimpering painfully, he wriggled about on the blood-sodden ground, shifting the remnants of his legs a little at a time, and allowing his arms to pull him forward. He would find a way out, of that he was determined.

A frigid gust of wind fluttered throughout the maze, shooting dirt and grime into his eyes.

Sesshoumaru.

There it was again. The invisible voice. It was taunting him, haunting him.

"S-show yourself!" Sesshoumaru continued his makeshift crawl, determined to escape. "What do you want from me?"

You need to be punished, Sesshoumaru. You are the worst kind of demon.

"What have I done, huh? What?!"

There came no response.

"Answer me, damn it! What have I done?"

You sinned.

"What? So what? Everyone sins! No one is perfect."

Deadly sins. You, Sesshoumaru, have committed all seven deadly sins. And for this crime, you must pay.

Sesshoumaru shuddered at the obvious hate and loathing evident in the wind-like voice.

"A-are you God?"

The deep voice chuckled mockingly.

I am his punisher.

Another whimper seeped out of Sesshoumaru as he hastened his pace. Maneuvering painfully around turns, leaving long smears of blood in his path, he worked his way through his prison. Unaware of the hour that drifted by, Sesshoumaru began to grow weary. The voice had remained silent until the bell sang again.

Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong!

"No! No! This isn't happening! This is all a horrible, horrible nightmare! None of this is real!"

But it is real, Sesshoumaru. It is time for us to continue the punishment.

Sesshoumaru shrieked.

Your hateful words sliced deep wounds into the hearts of others. How cruel, you are, to those around you. Offensive words make you unlovable, untamable. Who could ever want a beast?

You, Sesshoumaru, are wrathful.  

Sesshoumaru thought back to the fight he had the other day with his mate, Kagome. The things he said were horrific and purposely inflicted. How could he treat someone he loved so much with such hate?

A shrill sound of a crow startled Sesshoumaru. Trying his best, he managed to glance up above him. The caws grew louder and more fervent. In a large swoop, a humongous crow found itself sitting face to face with Sesshoumaru.

"Go away, dumb bird," Sesshoumaru cursed.

Tilting its head to the side, the dark bird glared at Sesshoumaru with his beady little eyes.

"Away, I sa - "  

The bird shoving its disease-infested head into his mouth, cutting off Sesshoumaru. A sharp, hooked beak began to rip and cut into the moist, soft flesh of his tongue. His eyes widened. Metallic blood filled every orifice of his mouth and began to drown him. Breathing was impossible, let alone screaming. Thrashing his head back and forth madly, Sesshoumaru tried to dislodge the bird.

Irritated, the bird withdrew its head from his mouth and gave him a sound peck on the forehead. A deep hole was made, letting blood rush out of the new wound, streaming down his face and parting around his nose. Stars flashed before his eyes as he barely registered the bird continuing to remove his tongue.

His vision swam and blackness filled his mind.  

Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong!

Sesshoumaru started suddenly, once again being roused by the intangible charming clock. Instead of lying face down in a puddle of blood like earlier, Sesshoumaru was trussed up, securely tied to a section of shrubs. The stubby remains of his legs were a couple of feet from the ground. Thick, gangly vines held him in position.

"Hello?" Sesshoumaru managed to mumble. He shuddered as he listened to his own voice. Without a tongue, it was impossible to speak. Inside of his blood encrusted mouth, a tad bit of tongue waggled, spraying fresh blood.

Sesshoumaru gagged.

Sesshoumaru.

He began to groan and moan painfully, writhing against his bonds. This wasn't meant to happen. Naturally, he wasn't horrible by nature. No one deserved this, no matter what they did. No one.

Apparently, he wasn't the one who decided things like that.

Selfishly your splurged yourself in elaborate contraptions. You always want more. You never have enough. More and more, you must consume more and more. All that you can. Never can you be satiated with what you already have. It is impossible. You took multiple lovers while your wife sat at home, mourning your absence.  

You, Sesshoumaru, are a glutton.

Agonizing pain thrilled throughout his lower abdomen. His organs seemed to be shifting and pushing out against his skin. He threw his head back, moaning loudly in pain. Sesshoumaru's pale skin disturbingly shifted, like a baby in a mother's womb. Pushing further and further out, Sesshoumaru screamed in pain. Blood coursed down his face, painting his chin and neck fire engine red.

Sesshoumaru felt his stomach churning and nausea settle over his being. Pulsing under his skin, his stomach thrust forward, over and over. Hot daggers pierced his belly. Soon, his stomach sliced its way through his tender flesh and was hastily expelled. Waves upon waves of steaming blood uninhibitedly spray from his gut like a child's sprinkler.

He tried to cry out as best as he could without having a tongue.   

Appearing out of thin air, the man he bumped into in the bar was approaching him. A shiny bit of something in the man's right hand reflected off of the scarce light, catching Sesshoumaru's dulling eye.

"Who are you?" he grumbled.

He received no answer. Instead, the man continued to walk forward, his face was concealed by the large brimmed hat.

"Answer me!"

Again, he was met with silence.

Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong!

Sesshoumaru grimaced painfully, distantly frightened over what torture was heading his way.

You hold your world in the palm of your hand, Sesshoumaru. People bend to your will and you possess more treasures than many other people. Yet you still want things other people have. How can you never be satisfied with what you do have?

You, Sesshoumaru, are envious.

He began to shiver and quake. The voice...it did not come from the man in front of him! In fact, the voice sounded like it was whispering in his ear. He could have sworn he felt the cool, stale breath on his neck. He trembled.

Slowly, the man approaching him raised his hand, revealing the reflective object. Clenched tightly in his hand was a dagger. Sesshoumaru began his struggles anew. Ominously, the man lifted his head, leveling himself to Sesshoumaru. Casually, he removed his large hat, letting his pale skin absorb the dark light.

Sesshoumaru froze.

It was...horrible.

The man in poised with the weapon could barely be called man. His eye sockets were empty and caved in. Skin so pale, so fragile. It resembled rice paper; thin, delicate, transparent. He had no hair on his head and he lacked eye brows. Blue and red veins were prominent on the skeletal figure. This man was death himself.

The knife rose higher and higher, right up into Sesshoumaru's face. He flinched, trying to push back into the shrubbery and avoid the sharpened edge.

Before he could blink, the man plunged the blade into Sesshoumaru's temple and retreated. Like a faucet, blood flowed from his head. Flecks of grey brain matter was stuck in his blood encrusted hair. Eyes fluttered closed, Sesshoumaru allowed his head to lull about. The blood never stopped. Ruby red liquid, thicker than water, dyed his pale skin.

When the blade crashed through his head, one of his optical nerves was severed, removing sight from his left eye. Sesshoumaru sniveled. Death would be welcomed by him. Without a doubt.

In a flash of bright light, the skeleton man in black had disappeared. He was left alone again.

"Please. Just kill me now," Sesshoumaru rasped, his voice hoarse and his words non-comprehensible.

No one answered.

Time blinked by. It was hard to believe that time even existed in a place like that, in a place with torture and pain roamed free.

Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong!

Without any warning, hands that didn't exist reached out and began to dig into Sesshoumaru's eye sockets. With a sharp cry, Sesshoumaru began to thrash and bash. He could feel fingers tightening around his eye ball, dull fingernails separating his eyes from their nerves and strings. The fist contracted, squeezing his eyes tighter and tighter.

The pressure was horrifying, painful. Sesshoumaru screamed and screamed. No one heard his sorrowful cries.   

Your crave power and will stop at nothing to get it. You treat others as objects, who's only goal in life is to please you, only you.

You, Sesshoumaru, are lustful.

"Stop. Please, stop," Sesshoumaru begged, letting his head flop down uselessly. "I can't take much more of this."

The vines around Sesshoumaru began to contract, cutting off his supply of air. He threw his head back, trying with all of his might to inhale. Finally, the vines let him go, allowing his bloody and pulverized form to fall to the ground. He landed on his stump for legs. The healing wounds opened up and began to bleed anew. Tears leaked from his sunken eyes and drew lines in the blood down his face.

The dark, almost ghost like figure appeared in front of him again. His hands were empty this time and he did not wear his hat. The skeleton man was complete revealed. Despite having no eyes, he walked about as if he had perfect vision. It was not possible! Not human!

Finally, the chilling voice began, there is the last deadly sin.

The man ceased to move and stood directly over Sesshoumaru, intimidating his broken figure. Again, the voice appeared beside his head, the crisp voice hauntingly caressing his ear.

In the face of accomplishments, you take all of the credit, even when you play a minor role. Never do you let anyone question you, nor have their own opinion. You believe what you say and believe is law and other opinions and ideas are bogus. For these reasons alone, you are hated.

You, Sesshoumaru, are proud.

Crouching down to Sesshoumaru's level, the man let his cold hand rest on Sesshoumaru's chest. The skeleton's nails sharpened to unbelievable lengths and were forced through layers of flesh. His fingers were snakes, wrapping around his heart over and over again. Sesshoumaru's breath was stolen from his very body.

Jarring about uselessly, Sesshoumaru tried to get the hand clenching him painfully to let go. Perhaps he should have just stopped struggling, admit defeat, and let himself go. It would be easier than lying there, suffering for hours.

I should have thrown myself into that bush that ate my arm hours ago. I would have been free from this hell sooner, Sesshoumaru thought faintly.

Tighter and tighter, the hand enclosed his heart causing different areas to inflate unnaturally.

The clock began to toll.

Bong! Bong! Bong!

Sesshoumaru slumped against the wall of leaves, tired of fighting the inevitable.

Bong! Bong! Bong!

A cold, pleased smile stitched its way across the skeleton's façade.

Bong! Bong! Bong!

Sesshoumaru drew in his final breath. He had learned his lesson.