A/N: Jesus, I have so many stories to complete, and I know I shouldn't be making another one. I'll get to my other stories eventually. I'm in the process of writing chapter 7 of First Snow, that story is about to end in a couple chapters. I was inspired to write something truly dark by the other authors here on the site and hopefully it could be tastefully done. Updates would be sporadic. Anyways enjoy!
Warnings: Dark themes that include non-consensual interactions, violence, death, angst, etc.
Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha
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I. Departed to Reality
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It was a rainy day when her son died.
The two-year-old toddler drowned in a pond located in the gardens.
His caregivers were executed.
The lord laid grieving deep within the castle. Her own tears have dried, but she haven’t felt any other indication of mourning since the incident occurred.
To anybody else, it would seem as if she was a terrible mother, but she felt no attachment to the boy. Not when he was clearly an unwanted mistake and was taken directly after birth to placate the barren mate of the lord.
The female stared blankly ahead as the servants dressed the child in black robes. His silvery, shoulder-length hair combed neatly and his cherubic face held a blue tinge.
Her features weren’t present on his face, he looked exactly like his father. Stripes of his heritage were slashed against plump cheeks, a crescent moon dotted his forehead.
He was beautiful.
He looked regal dressed in his dark attire, his body ready for the journey of eternal oblivion.
Even the servants looked sadden, no artificial emotions stemming through as they prepared the body for the ceremony.
Sticks of incense filtered throughout, the perfume of soft lavender was needed to tone down the smell.
The stench of death was prominent in the room, even she could smell it.
She wasn’t suppose to be there.
She wasn’t part of the royal family.
But instincts led her there, and no one refused her presence.
The lady gently caressed the boy’s face, the blank look was replaced by a look of devastation.
Kagome looked away, she couldn’t bare glancing at that somber expression. She didn’t even have to look to know the female was sobbing, her sniffles soft and quiet as she muttered her love for the boy.
She bit her lips as she clutched her fan tightly.
It would have been her in that position if her fate wasn’t this. Sobbing her heart out for the loss of a child, the mortifying helplessness.
She needed to leave, there was too much emotions swirling around the room. Too much rawness that she couldn’t handle.
More servants entered the room and Kagome took that as a sign to leave. With a flounce of her kimono, she departed from the room, heading down to her own chambers.
The beaded anklet jingled with each step, making her aware of her situation.
It brought thoughts she rather not think of, faces she would no longer see. Memories destroyed under the cover of night, the screams of terror emitting from throats of helpless victims.
It was all his fault, her circumstances brought ominous happenings.
The corridors were dark and grim, the flickering lanterns were the only lights that guided her to her destination.
Tall shadows covered the numerous tapestries hanging on wooden walls, each portraying a victorious conquest from ancestors and rulers before.
There were even some with children in them, images of families together. It darkened her mood considerably.
This marked the second child birthed from her that has succumbed to death.
She felt nothing, only tinges of grief over a lost child. There were no motherly bond, nothing that would give to attachment of any kind.
Her first son spat on her after she tried to make things work.
After that time, she knew it was best to distanced herself from anybody, to keep herself from experiencing pain deeper than anything physical.
She knew what was to come in the following days, if not hours. And she wasn’t prepared for it. Nothing prepared her for it.
A strike of lightning flashed before a sound of thunder shook the ground.
Then a howl echoed in the air. A melancholic sound that resounded deeply in everyone’s soul, all except for hers.
Her painted nails scratched the side of her face, her eyes heavy with lethargy. The day’s event left her utterly exhausted.
But she knew it would be another restless night of sleep.
Her head spun, and she grasp the wall, her steps tumbling.
Someone grasped her arm, steadying her.
“When was the last time you had any sleep?” came a deep baritone voice, a velvety timbre that warmed her instantaneously.
She recognized that voice anywhere and she took mild comfort in the gentle embrace, a hand caressing through her long, obsidian locks.
He was a distant cousin of the lord, captain of the royal guard.
“I haven’t had any sleep since the past couple days, something was bothering me.” she felt an impending doom all week, and now it has come to pass.
This was the second time this feeling had happened. The first time, the same awful feeling arose within a week before her first son’s death.
“This place isn’t meant for you.” he commented, his grasp tender around her shivering form.
She turned away from him, her eyes pained. “I can’t leave, you know that.”
“I know and I don’t like it.”
A low growl vibrated against her back.
“You should leave, the lord is in a grieving mood.”
“He will hurt you in his state.” she could see a flash of potent jealousy in his dark amber-hued eyes as she looked back at the beautiful male.
“He doesn’t care.” she shook her head. “Go, I don’t want two deaths today.”
A gust of wind was all she felt, her hair fluttering.
She released a shuddering breath, steeling herself for what was to come.
Once in her room, she didn’t have to wait long for an imposing aura to stifle her air.
Red eyes gleamed at her viciously. Jagged fangs jutted out from thin lips while his heritage markings were thickened and rugged.
His silvery mane was dark, droplets of water staining the floor.
Instead of an aristocrat flare, a troubled soul was what remained, haunted deeply from the death of the young boy.
“Two sons… dead.”
She flinched at his guttural voice.
Emotions were mixed heavily within his broken voice.
She returned to brushing her hair, keeping her eyes locked on her appearance than on the hostile male lurking around the room.
A hand crept along her shoulders. Claws dug lightly into her sensitive flesh. A sliver of pain pinched her.
Her lips bleed when she bit too deeply.
“You know who you belong to.” he warned in her ear. A flick of tongue traveled along the edge of her rounded ear.
She shivered.
“Do I need to discipline him?” Kagome shook her head. “Then I suppose you will have to warn him.”
A hand slipped around, the pads of his fingers tracing the bone of her collar.
“I feel very tired, milord.” she tried to persuade him off.
It was for naught.
The lord was in a state of anguish, his depression leading to bouts of anger. Angry at the situation, angry at everyone, angry at her.
“And how does that concern me?”
Kagome gasped when her kimono split. The fabric fell lifelessly to the floor, shredded into stripes.
She hid her breasts from the lord’s hungry yet frozen gaze without a second thought. Her skin prickled when the cool air caressed her delicate flesh.
Her hair was tugged and she was thrown onto the futon in a tangle of limbs.
She curled within herself, the feeling of anxiety emerging rapidly in her bones as escaping and resistance weren’t an option.
He could easily catch her and then punishment would be dealt with.
Her breaths came in short, her heart hammering deeply within her chest. Her palms began to secrete sweat, her forehead clammy.
A sob ripped through her throat when she felt the malicious weight settle on her back, plastering herself firmly against the bedding.
Her nails dug into the palm of her hands and she blocked out the heavy sounds of sensual grunts as pain slithered through her body.
She wanted it to stop.
But she remained mute, trapped inside the safety of her mind.
Within, she felt nothing, her senses cut off.
It was paradise, it was the slice of heaven that she desperately needed.
It continued until early dawn, when the birds rose from their slumbers. The morning was still melancholic, not even a slither of light filtered through the windows.
Agony was all she could think of when he left. Her legs cramped from his ravenous appetite and her womanhood sore.
A single movement caused her to cringe.
The stench of sex remained heavy in the air, tinges of metallic blood coated within.
She dragged the soiled blanket around her, tears finally crawling down her cheeks as the feeling of hopelessness shackled her down to reality.
Sleep eluded her, her mind too troubled to nod off. The nightmares would come, images too frightening to comfortably remain asleep. It would merely cause to her stay up, eyes bloodshot and her mood irritable.
She didn’t want this to happen again, she didn’t want any of it.
Another sob emanated from her swollen lips.
She would be pregnant again and the cycle of despair would start over once more.
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Some feedback would be lovely. :)