Because I suck.
Okay. Here. Anyone who reads these entries: This is long.
I'm posting a story that I've started a long, long, time ago....and I'm STILL working on it....
Has no title....the file is just labeled as "Silver threads against a black wall" It just saved it, and I never fixed it....Oh, and when I get it from Word Doc, it takes out ALL THE ITALICS AND BOLD, and I'm not gonna put it in here for you...Figure it out...
Silver threads against a black wall, moving slowly, dancing in their quiet, thin braces. The darkness it was against it enhanced its silver glow, tuning a small light show. There wasn’t any light from above, or below, only from them. The thin silver threads went down forever, with a close black wall following, without friction, or traction. They ran together, down to a network of more silver threads, then stopped at the very edge, many of the threads growing ever so slowly. They crept up along that black wall, always gaining a moment, and a second of someone’s life. Each thread contained someone’s lifeline. These lifelines were the only things keeping them from Death. These thin, delicate lines, brake when that person passes away, but then rebuilds. It rebuilds itself a new life, as an infant, and all the way back to death again. The silver threads could only rebuild twice, so at the second, they erode away, causing an angel to be born from the broken pieces of thread, to be forever, and never wear out.
Sometimes, these threads are made of gold, or a red. The gold threads are not immortal, but survive only five thousand years. The red threads are immortals, which usually belonged to witches, or magical creatures. But, these red threads resonated evil, a pure darkness that most feared. These threads could only be killed by the golden lives, but chances were high that the golden would turn evil or die.
Of course, these threads are not unattended. One thick, blue, completely immortal thread, Father Time, takes care of them. Even though there are trillions of threads, he still manages to take care of them, but sometimes, he needs people to look after the actual lives of which the threads lead. These people are the Guardians of the Universe, whose threads are one of the golden ones. There are only four at a time, taking care of the four quadrants of the universe. Their offspring are usually the next four. These four are unrelated, but still share the connection. Their lives are peaceful, until they need to be called.
Currently, these four threads have not been called in over one million years. So now, they do not have any memories of what they are, or who they are supposed to be. Today, the last generation of Goldens have died, only three had offspring, the last, had not been able to conjure up a baby. Now, the spiritual burden of the last guardian has unknowingly been passed on to a very powerful mother and father, Kitsune and Sunekuman. Their first and only child, Simmikke, has not even surpassed walking yet, as she is still three months old. Now, her golden thread has been created, barely starting at the bottom, and creeping up slowly like the others.
Nobody remembers the guardians, except the offspring, who were taught by their parents, and the ancient monks, who had also taught Kitsune, and Sunekuman. Sadly, during their history lessons they didn’t pay attention, and when Simmikke was born, intelligence increased, she was a guardian. We will walk into her life, from beginning to partial end.
Sunekuman was holding his newborn baby girl, Simmikke (Kiki for short). He was sitting down on a couch in the living room, smiling down at his daughter’s moon-white skin, long jet-black hair, and yellow-and-violet eyes. Kiki smiled at her loving father, whose complexion matched her own. Her vision was lightly blurred, but she could still see the warm smile, and the kind, yellow eyes of her father.
His headband bearing a musical note embedded into a metal rectangle went around his head, blending into his black hair, and revealing itself at the knot in back. His black, tight, ninja suit wound around his muscular, white, slim body. His loose, black hair went down halfway to his back. His hands had gloves with holes for Chinese Needles, and fingerless for sharp Shurikens. His forearms had thick, black cotton padding for protection, along with boots that had metal soles.
His apparel wasn’t for kicks; Sunekuman was a high class ninja assassin. He was sometimes sent on missions, or other high class jobs. Though he was such a busy man, he still had time for his daughter and wife. Right now, as he stared down at his beautiful girl, he felt warmth over himself, and smiled. He sighed and hugged his child in his pumped arms, fully embracing the small body. His fingers reached her back, in which he felt her small wings, about the size of grains of rice. He rolled his eyes and sighed. Kitsune, which was his wife, and he had these types of relatives, Dragonics. Usually the features of a Dragonic consisted of moon-white skin, long, jet-black hair and dragon, demon, or bat wings.
Sunekuman sighed again, and got up from the chair where he was sitting in. He smelled delicious food, it was a beefy smell, with steamed vegetables, including potatoes, tomatoes, and still-crunchy bell-peppers, all cooking in a hot stove, giving off the aroma of a nice stew, though it was roast, or was it something else?
He shrugged and cradled his infant in his arms as he walked to the kitchen to see his wife setting the table with fine, white-porcelain dishes containing delicious food. “Ah, my Kitsune, why don’t you let me set the table?” Sunekuman said, in a deep, smooth and slightly light voice.
Chuckling, Kitsune remarked, “Don’t try to fool me; I know how much you love to hold that daughter of yours. Besides, I want you to spend as much time as possible with her since you’re going on the trip to the City of Light. Need I not remind you, it will take about two months?” She smiled. Her voice was light, but not sqeaky, and she was wearing her Tea suit.
Kitsune had fox ears among her red hair and a tail, being the most powerful Kami in the West. She was a master of taming fire, and one of the few who could perform the Phoenix’s Cry, which is a dangerous fire technique. Though she was powerful, and righteous, she worked in a tea shop that she owned, abandoning her treacherous lifestyle, and settling down with the most powerful and well known ninja in the world. Her tea suit was a deep navy color, fashioned into a kimono with extremely wide sleeves, and brown belt at her waist. She always wore a hat that was fashioned into a small brown cutting board which had a small tea glass, and lemons and limes cut open, all this in a Japanese style. Nobody knew why she chose to wear this, but it did make her more elegant, if not comical.
“Sune, sit yourself and Kiki down, I’ll serve you the food.” She said warmly. Walking over to the cupboard, she took three plates, two big ones and an ornate small one. As she began to spoon some food into Simmikke’s plate, a small tremor shook the house, and the surrounding land. A fire smell filled the air, as ash started raining down outside.
The couple turned to each other, with fierce and serious faces. Kitsune dropped the plates and ran outside, along with Sunekuman and Simmikke in his arms, leaving the plates breaking upon hitting the floor. Outside, was a chaos of people running, and spears flying over their heads, the two were shocked by the sudden destruction that reigned. Many homes were decreased to absolute ash, the ground was littered with a new layer of blood, and the petrifying screams of the victims were piercing. The paths that were once for horses had holes from leaded fireballs, coming in to destroy the village.
They looked around in total bewilderment, until their instincts of protection kicked in. They didn’t know where the attacks were coming from, but they knew to escape away from the vicious attackers. Sunekuman yelled at the top of his lungs to the people to head north, but the chaotic crowd heeded nothing. A man was stumbling along, with his left arm ripped off, bones and blood seeping out, leaving a never-ending bloody mass wherever he walked, his wails went unheard. A woman with the left side of her face burned off was screaming, “My Chelsea, where’s my Chelsea?” and looked around for her beloved child.
Quick thinking, Sunekuman ran north, towards the bridge that descended into the river. Kitsune was left healing other, and then came to her husband and child. “What do we do? What about Simmikke? We can’t fight with her in our arms!” Kiki’s wails were loud, but not compared to the screaming of the people, and the turbulence of the fireballs coming through. Kitsune searched around for a basket, finding many dead people and animals whose skin burned with the fire that lay upon their fur. She was bumped and battered, but managed to find a basket big enough for Kiki to fit into. She had to pick it up from a dying elderly woman, who, to Kitsune’s dismay, had to end her own suffering herself by stabbing a dagger through her heart.
Simmikke’s mother returned running and shoving many people through the dense smoky air. She coughed, by the time she got back to her husband and daughter, she was covered in a thin layer of soot. “H-Here, now we need a note. The river will surely go through to Fumiko, my sister. We need to tell her everything.” She choked. Her plan was to place Simmikke in the basket, sending her to Kitsune’s sister. Sunekuman did not question about Fumiko, even though all he knew about her was a legend. They wrote a note to Fumiko saying:
This is Simmikke, I have no time to explain, but please raise this child as your own. I only want her to have a happy life. We are in war, and I need her to be as strong as I am. I understand you are a powerful being. A thank you in advance.
Kitsune didn’t have time to finish, because Sunekuman was already being attacked by a stalky-looking warrior, with hardly any skin showing through his armor. Sunekuman’s left arm was slashed into, leaving a bloody gash before it. The trails of his blood trickled down, slowly then started to pour faster. He gritted his teeth, and let out a poisoned fukibari from in between his knuckles. After the giant was knocked from the strong, but small blow, Sunekuman jumped towards his thick neck and without a slight hesitation, beheaded the warrior with the ease of his metal talons, which came from his glove.
Quickly, Kitsune rolled up the piece of paper, and stuffed it into the basket, and placed her beloved daughter above it. Another fireball rattled the ground, sending many falling. Sunekuman quickly ran over to Kitsune, and took hold of the basket in her arms. “We can’t waste any more time. We need Kiki to be safer than being here.” He said the last words with a hint of regret in his voice, a regret of letting his daughter go. He walked over to the edge of the bride, which had a quick current running through it. There was a black wooden wall, and a small underway so the water could pass through.
With a deep breath, he held the basket on the ridge and looked down, with Kitsune at his side, holding his arm. She looked into her daughter’s violet-yellow eyes, feeling a sense of regret already taking hold of her. “Let her go.” She said quietly, though her husband heard her clearly through screaming in the background. Her husband looked into her eyes, and then back at the baby. Holding out the basket, came another fireball, once again shaking the ground, and causing her father to let go of the basket unintentionally.
The small baby let out a wail, barely heard by the stream currents. She took one last look at her parents, and somehow knew something bad was going on. She reached out her tiny hand, extending towards her parents, her daddy and mommy, but they turned away. She wailed more for them to get her, but she was inaudible. She then screamed, but still had the same results. She felt a hard hit on the water, and then cried more.
Simmikke’s golden thread was already twisted enough, with her being born from the two wrong golden threads, but now it was even more twisted, and confused of which way to go, down or up. Father time sought out the disturbance among the threads, and grasped Simmikke’s lightly. It squirmed like a worm and tried to escape its own confusion. Father Time merely blew on it, and that was how Kiki’s fate was sealed. He blessed her to be the next Guardian, for what he saw within her soul, was a great and balanced power.
In a forest filled with evergreen, redwood and grand pine trees, a breeze filtered through the fragrant smells of the large forest. Furry creatures peacefully wondered the forest floor, leaving the ground to look like a moving maze or fur and blood. The breeze flowing through the trees came from many things. It came from the wind, coming off of the near sea, it came from the whispers of the animals, and it also came from something else. More like someone.
A skinny figure whooshed off of a Giant Sequoia tree, pouncing off of its trunk, and leaping to the next, as if gravity didn’t exist. The force from the lean figure powered from its tight thigh muscles, delivering a blow that would be fatal to a human. Looking more closely, you could see that it was a young girl, about the age of 16 or 17. Her skin was a moon-white, extremely contrasted by the black, tight-looking leather clothes she wore, revealing the full curves of her bosom, and rump. Her long, jet-black hair flowed with turbulence, and trickled like water along the narrow, tall sling she wore at her back. The sling contained dragon-like wings with a full wingspan of eight feet, and were slightly taller than her physique. The “sling” resembled a canvas guitar case. She wanted people to think she played guitar, instead of thinking there was wings inside.
Her yellow-violet eyes pierced the landscape before her, scanning the next 30 seconds ahead, due to the fact that she was moving so quickly. Digging into the wood with her heeled boots, she thrust herself upon a large branch, sticking out of the nowhere. Kneeling, she reached into her pack, and pulled out a red berry, popping it into her mouth. She lazily looked around the forest, and stared down at the animals gazing up to her. Comically sighing, the girl fell to her side on the huge branch, and lay there with a blank look upon her face. She wished she knew what to do…
“Kiki? What are you moping about now? Please don’t tell me we’re going to practice again.” A soft voice came from behind. Simmikke still lay there, closing her eyes and sighing again,” Saffira, I don’t know. I don’t feel like doing much today. I can’t help but think about…” She trailed off, knowing her friend behind knew where she was going with the conversation.
Saffira was an emerald green, Japanese dragon, who looked much like a hognose snake, but with yellow spikes along her spine, and purple wings with a yin-yang on the side of each. The end of her tail had a beautiful blue and cyan diamond, which reflected in the sunlight. The bottom lids of her eyes held metallic purple slashes, one large splash of color each side.
“No, no Simmikke. I told you to stop thinking about that! There is nothing about your past that should concern you with anything, okay?” Saffira said with uncertainty. The green dragon looked about for absolutely no reason, and then set her eyes on her familiar. “Kiki, what are you doing?” Simmikke was toying around with a large tree snake. It hissed and puffed in her face, but did not dare strike her. It tried to wriggle free from the deathly grip of its beholder, but eventually stopped it futile struggle. It then relaxed and stared into her eyes. Simmikke kissed it upon the mouth, and let it go on the branch.
“Saffira, I know you’re lying. You’ve always throw the same pitiful lie at me. I don’t know what you have to hide!” Simmikke’s voice was ascending into a shout. Her eyes turned into a yellow, with a strip of violet near the pupil, never facing her dragon. “Why can’t you ever tell me? You’ve been honest with me, through all this time, but yet you fail to tell me something as simple as my past…” Her voice trailed off as a tear began to wet her eye, then more came down, and her throat swelled up inside, choking off her words. She sat up, and hugged herself as she wept noisily.
Saffira was on the branch behind Kiki, curled over and over upon it, like a spiral. Sighing took her entire body to inflate, and deflate from her tail up to her head. Simmikke was like this. Simmikke was always like this when she talked about something she didn’t know, whatever it was. It was the same story over and over, she would shout, lose her voice, and cry. Then she would go off and do something crazy. So immature…
Why she was like that was beyond Saffira’s knowledge. The giant serpent sat there until Simmikke suddenly popped up from her perch, and began to leap from the trees again. Now she was about to do a crazy thing. Wonderful. Saffira uncurled, rising up like a snake from the branch, and when only her back end of the green, scaly body was curled around it, she thrust off with a tremendous flap of her wings. She flew right to Kiki, and kept up with the leaping figure.
Tears were floating in the air as they left Kiki’s white chin. Her eyes were puffy and red, looking down to the forest floor, searching for something to take her anger out. The floating emerald of flesh behind her was breathing heavily from both worried uneasiness, and the hope of not crashing into a tree limb. “Kiki...Kiki-kins? Please, please stop. Stop? Stop…? STOP!” They had been going up and down, in circles in the branches that the dragon didn’t see the trap that Simmikke was setting up. She had tangled herself within many small branches, and couldn’t move out of the way of the large ones that was about to hit her square in the face.
The sickening smack of flesh against the tree resounded within the forest, sending birds out of the trees, squawking nosily. Simmikke laughed maniacally, while Saffira groaned in agony. Something was in her scales or in her body and it was sharp. It hurt. Her mind began to blur as she tried to figure out what just happened, and why she hurt. There were only small branches, nothing big, nothing fatal. Right?
She looked at her serpentine body, looking all the way down, and nearly skipped a beat. A large sword, a little bigger than a grown man’s arm length, stuck upward through her underbelly, and was right below her right lung. The person at the hilt had snowy white hair, a young face, and navy ninja suit. He sneered with demonic, yet beautiful eyes. They were a blue, a type of beautiful blue that should have belonged to a woman. He had fair skin to go with it, except for a large, open, bleeding gash on his cheek. He had thin lips, with a hint of pink, and a strong chin. If anything, he looked like a human white wolf.
She knew if she dared to speak, or yell, a number of things would happen. One, when she would inhale for the words, or yell, her lung would come into contact with the sword, so there was the fear of puncture, since the tip was stabbed up at it. Two, he could kill her in an instant, for whatever reason. Three, she could try to pull out quickly, but the pain would slow her, leaving her open for attack.
The young man looked back at Kiki’s smalling figure, and then softened his expression, which was intimidating yet slightly comforting. “You won’t be able to do much where she’s going. She can’t use her strength there.” He said in a soft and soothing voice. He himself seemed to glow with a soothe, as a verb, it seemed to be him. But then, there was also something in his beautiful blue eyes that was a tad bit evil, it was small, but moreover a hint of loyalty to evil.
Saffira looked ahead to where Simmikke was. She kept going and going, until the dragon could not see her anymore, even with her enhanced vision. Where was she going? Who was this guy? Another question popped up in her head, grueling and hopeless, “Are we going to die?”
Kiki kept leaping, and pouncing, until she couldn’t see her companion anymore. Maybe she didn’t deserve to knock her head like that? No, yes she did. She didn’t tell Kiki anything, so why should she care?
Something caught her sense, something powerful, and devious. It hit her like a pang of metal, and shook her entire body with fear. She stopped dead on a branch and looked about her for the source that was so strong. It wasn’t moving. She started to recoil to jump again, but then caught sight of a dwelling.
The house was half into the earth, with carved stone steps leading down to the second floor, the roof was maroon-ish purple, and tilted awkwardly. It had many windows on the top floor, with a cream white paint. It was in a large clearing from all the trees.
Kiki was very drawn to it, with the force resonating within. It made no sense, but she jumped down from the tree, and simply walked to the house. It was quite a lengthy walk; since she was so high up in the extremely tall trees it looked very low. The grass was so plush here; it even looked as if someone had cut it recently. She walked up to the steps, and looked at the wooden door. It was the same color as the roof, with peeling paint.
She wanted to open it, it was so tempting, the force was so powerful, and she just had to know what was behind it! She started to set foot on the stone step below her, when a sudden flash of energy was behind her. The hairs on the nape of her strong neck stood on end, while her back muscles contracted. It was a young man. Within three seconds she identified his physique, and mass, along with the weapons he carried: A simple bamboo staff, fukibari (Chinese throwing needles), and nun chucks.
He was slightly taller than her, and larger. She started to evaluate whether she could take him on or not, but as she did, he moved with incredible speed, and in less than one second, was in front of her. The turbulence of the move came about two seconds later. She got the full view of him, but couldn’t see his face, only his eyes. He had a black, cloth mask on.
With speed matching his, Simmikke tried to make the same maneuver, also behind him. He countered by going straight behind her, back facing him, grabbing her wrists, and thrusting them upwards to her head. It only stretched them, but she knew if she moved more, it would hurt. Grabbing both her wrists with one hand, he bent to her ear, and whispered in a deep, wispy voice, “You shouldn’t be here.” His hot breath lingered on her neck, and with such a smooth voice, Kiki couldn’t help but relax a little. This let him release his grip, and then he sluggishly moved to face her. His long lashes complemented his soft brown eyes, as they narrowed at her.
Kiki immediately felt insecure. She felt her chest rise and stiffen, which made her breasts look a little too perky. Her shoulders stood straight out, arms straight at her sides. At this moment she thought she looked menacing, in reality, she looked ridiculous.
His gaze told otherwise. In his eyes, she could tell he wasn’t interested in evaluating whether she could take him on or not. In fact, he seemed to be dozing off in his own world…
“Enough.” She said in a stern voice. “If you value your life you will tell me who you are, and what you’re doing here.” She relaxed her body again, and this time braced herself for whatever he might do or say.
His penetrating eyes made no sign. Instead, he breathed in slowly and spoke,” I do not value much of my life, and I can’t tell you my name either. Simply this is what I can tell you: You should not be here. Leave, for the sake of your sanity.” He said in his deep, soft voice. Surprisingly his voice wasn’t muffled by the mask he wore over his mouth.
“I can be here if I want! You can’t stop me, can you?” She asked with a gleam of humor in her eyes. He only gazed back, eyes showing no emotion, except for the fact that he was lost in his own world. Again. “No, I cannot. But, I can certainly do this.” His eyes closed, a smile spread across his mask, and he dematerialized into a cloud of white smoke, and once it cleared, he was gone.
Simmikke blinked. Did he just leave her like that? He certainly made her think, but why in the world did he come to her? So what was wrong with this place…?
It didn’t matter. She looked back at the old door. The once-peeling paint had now been replaced with what seemed like a fresh coat of the maroon color. Or was it purple? Whatever it was, now that that guy was gone, she’d open it. But in her mind, she hesitated. Maybe that guy was right, she probably shouldn’t go in there, maybe she shouldn’t even BE here.
But that hesitation was taken over by curiosity. Curiosity killed the cat, wasn’t that the phrase? Kiki shook her head to clear the annoying bad thoughts. No, she was here, and the time was now. Even if she didn’t open the seductive piece of wood, she’d come back for it later.
She took a deep breath, and moved her lean arm towards the doorknob. She grasped the cool metal of it, and decided she should brace herself before opening it. With these types of things, you could never be too careful. She tensed her whole body, and turned the doorknob.
Saffira had blacked out after having lost so much blood from the wound. At the moment, all she saw was an inky blackness, no dreams or fantasies. Then, there was a spark of light in that ink. It felt like…movement? It was like being washed over by a cold river, one with a great breeze of consciousness. She suddenly awoke with an alarmed gasp, her eyes still squeezed shut, and found herself being carried by the young man. He was amazingly strong, especially shocking, since hardly any muscles showed through his skin.
Saffira’s torso and tail were in his arms wrapped over each other, while the rest of her, including her head, dragged behind. The reason it took her a while to wake up, was because they were still in the semi-dense section of the forest and he was jumping from tree to tree, her body was floating in the turbulence. She had regained consciousness, but hadn’t opened her eyes yet. The man felt her muscles slightly tense, and looked back at her face, all the while keeping exact precision on the branch jumping. He gave her that evil, warm smile again, with the same eyes along with it. His warming voice spoke, “Open your eyes please. I would like to see if you’re planning escape.” Saffira opened her eyes, and then scowled at the stupid statement.
She looked at her wound in his arms. A giant white sheet wrapped around her emerald green body: it was stained with blood. She saw that her purple wings and small arms were bound together tightly. She glowered at the fact that she had no legs. They would have been useful at this moment. She hadn’t noticed the man staring at her with his frosty blue eyes. When she did look up, a rush of adrenaline washed through her.
She bore her fangs at him, with an inaudible growl. He simply smiled. “Please, it will all be okay once you get accustomed to my master.” When he mentioned his “Master”, a slight flush of pink filled his cheeks. His smile intensified slightly, but then he caught himself, and returned it to his warm, now creepy one. “My name is Kinju. I am my master’s second. Your own master is going to be a slave. Oh, you might want to brace yourself, we’re descending.” In an instant, he jumped down from the last branch, and launched himself towards the ground, sending Saffira’s head bashing on the ground. She felt a horrible, throbbing pain on the back of her skull, and then she simply saw black.
Saffira wasn’t sure if it were moments later or hours when she woke up. She and Kinju were on the ground in a clearing of the forest. He was inspecting her head, which was filled with pain. She groaned when he touched the wound lightly. “Tsk, tsk, I told you to brace yourself. Now I have to tend this wound of yours. Hold still, it might hurt when I wrap it.”
“Don’t you dare touch me!” Saffira growled.
“Please let me do this. Besides, you can’t move, you have no choice in this.”
“I will bite those pretty hands of yours, so don’t do it!”
“No you won’t. Now, quit complaining and let me wrap your head before we go off. There are no trees around for me to jump, so I have to carry you, and handling a beast with an uncovered head injury is more than difficult. I suggest you hold still, and let me do all the work.” He scowled. His face expressions were always soft, like an eternal blur. Even when he scowled at her, it always showed that hint of evil mixed with sweetness. It relaxed Saffira, and so she stopped moving, and let him wrap her head in another white cloth from his fanny pack.
His snowy white bangs swayed in the light breeze. Thin, pinkish lips mumbled something like a chant. He finished wrapping her head up, and then stepped back to observe his work. He gave a quick nod and proceeded to figure out on how he should carry Saffira. “Well, how do you suppose I carry you? I could drag you head or tail.”
“Or you could just let me fly us.”
“Oh, don’t be so ridiculous, dragon. If I did that, you would escape.” He said with a ridiculous smile. “I didn’t get your name. What is it?”
“My name? No, you don’t need such a thing like that,” She said with sarcasm. “Oh, you can just call me whatever you like!” She bore her teeth in a completely fake smile.
“Okay, shall I call you Mesu?” He gave her and evil, twisted smile, and opened his eyes wide. He called her a b***h. Why a b***h, she will never know, but she was angry.
“You DARE call me the female whore? My name just so happens to be a quite beautiful one, and if you dare mock, so help you I will gouge your eyes out with my tongue!” She roared. Her serpentine body started to squirm in a terrible frenzy, left and right, up and down, she wriggled and snapped, trying to bite the head of this man who dared to provoke her.
The bandaging on her torso started to tear, causing a giant, bleeding gap, oozing everywhere on the ground. Kinju sprinted backwards about twenty feet away, laughing at her reckless thrashing.
Pain enveloped her spine, tingling down to the tip of her snout, right to her tail. She cried in agony, and it resonated through the plain, all the way to the forest they came from, birds and animals scurried out from it in fear. The wound was gouging and spilling with dark red blood.
She closed her eyes, and couldn’t stop squirming from the pain, now instead of rage. Her body slowed its frenzy, and began to slowly stop. She exhaled slowly, and her body remained into an upward, praying mantis position, the rest coiled like a snake. Her wings and arms were still bound with the strong rope. The bandaging was torn to threads. She seemed paralyzed in the position.
Kinju laughed harder, “I tell you to stay put, and you decide to throw yourself everywhere instead? Oh, Saffira.” He had said her name. He knew her name?
He took out a hollow, bamboo tube from his fanny pack, then a dart. It was a tranquilizer dart. Saffira was still shocked with the pain to notice what he was doing. “Forgive me for this, but I do suppose you need another nap.” He sucked in a lungful of air, and puffed hard into the tube. It hit Saffira in the chest, and quickly worked its deadly magic unto her. Her world was fading blurrily; an electric crackle of black lightning shrouded the edges of her vision, until it finally took over her sight like dark silk. Numbness took over her entire body in pulses, and she barely felt the wind against her shiny scales of her falling to the ground; but she never felt herself hit it.
Simmikke was inside. She had been for the past ten minutes, and all she had found so far were doors. Doors, hallways, corridors. Just many doors. Right at the moment, she was sure she was in the left wing of the underground home. Once again, she had opened another door, which led into another gloomy, dark, musty hallway. Her footsteps echoed from the walls, and back into her keen ears.
This was boring. It was a little too much walking, since she had been expecting the source of the strong power right in front of her as soon as she opened the front door. The front door simply led into a giant, squared room, with a dark purple tint, and a huge mess of random objects that looked as if they haven’t been used in years scattered throughout. She had found the next door in front of her, a small pathway leading to it. As soon as she had opened it, she found herself in this array of doors, where the power source she felt, died down to nothing.
Her boots click-clacked against the hardwood, purple floor. Everything was a dark shade of purple here. It was so dark, she had wondered how she could even see, or where light was coming from. When Kiki looked up, she saw that small purple candles that harbored an even smaller purple flame. The candles were all along the top of the walls, all in a line.
The candles ended. Kiki looked away from staring at those beautiful purple embers to see why they had stopped. She looked with her own purple eyes to see that she had come across a dead end. She hadn’t bothered trying every door that lined the corridor, fearing she would get lost in this place.
The wall with nothing stared back at her with its lavender wallpaper, intricately designed flowers all over it. The Dragonic let out an audible sigh, and craned her head to the right. A door was mirroring the left, much like all the doors on that side. She twisted her head left and right, deciding to try and open one. Wait… For what? Weren’t more doors going to pop up, and, again, with another endless hallway?
That didn’t seem to matter, because while her head spun with the thought of being forever lost here, her body had taken over, white hand reaching for the knob. Once she opened it, she stood outside of the room, her mouth gaped open. The room on the other side was deeply disturbing. All she could say about it in her head was the word white.
It was a smallish room, about one fourth in size of the first room. The walls were painted white, and hanging white paper lanterns gleamed with white flames. The floor was white, and in the far corner on her right (The door she walked through was in the left corner), there was a white medical bed. It had a paper sheet over it, but other than that, no blanket.
What had caught her eyes the most was the giant mirror in front of her. It took up the entire wall, and was sliced in vertical rectangles about 3 feet wide, and reached the ceiling. She had never seen such a thing like that before. Sure, she had seen her reflection in the water, but never something so… smooth.
She walked up to the reflective surface, and as she walked into the room completely, she felt the extreme coldness of it all. It panged her body immediately, and she felt a shiver physically go down her spine. For some reason though, she didn’t care. Instead, her eyes guided her feet forward, as she reached a hand out to touch her “mime.” She gawked.
“Whoa.” She sighed, hissing the last syllable in her throat as it trailed off. A cheek touched the cool surface of the mirror, cooling the warm, soft flesh. Bringing up both palms to it, and pressing against it with her torso too, titling her face to the side. It felt so nice to feel something so cool, especially after the stuffy halls. She closed her eyes, and began to hum in her throat. Somewhere in the back of the Dragonic’s mind, she knew that if someone were to be watching her right now, they’d think she was crazy.
Someone like the owner of the house. Someone like the young man that had warned her about not going in. Someone, who would want to kill her.
That last thought sent her eyes snapping open, and shoving herself off of the mirror. She shook her head in self discipline. It was time to stop fooling around, and satisfy her curiosity. Simmikke turned on her heel, and set for the door again. It had shut as soon as she reached her hand towards the doorknob, hard, and quick. Some ‘thing’ just closed that door, and in that moment she felt the strong power from earlier.
Her pulse quickened, cold sweat across her body. She felt the blood rush through her veins, adrenaline mixed with it. Her body began to pump itself with the mixture, ready for anything at the moment. Her hand had stayed reaching for the door, stilling her position just in case the ‘thing’ wasn’t a threat. Whatever it was, she had felt it earlier. It was the strong power that had seeped through the front door. Why hadn’t she sensed it in all this time and why now? Why in the HELL was she so paranoid?
She felt a wind hit her back, signaling that the enemy was somewhere in the room with her. She shivered, but not only in response to the breeze, but to the sheer power in the enemy, the raw talent, and the bloodlust coming from it. She tried to analyze the source, just as she had with the youth in the woods, but failed. The thing had blocked out her sense, and was now capturing her own information, and then she knew: Simmikke Chimam just might die that day.
Once again, Saffira awoke. A sharp pang in her giant head told her she was alive. And that she could feel. Ouch. The dragon also felt another sensation across her scales. It felt cool, calming, and flowing. It was water, wasn’t it? That sent her eyes fluttering open, just in time to see the liquid drape across her snout. She shut her eyes closed, and opened to reveal her teeth, lapping the water up with her tongue. She hadn’t drunk anything, being knocked out several times.
A gasp was heard, and then the water stopped. A whine of protest resounded as a growl within the throat of Saffira. It frightened whatever creature was nearby, sending it scattering away with a clinking of chains. She heard gasps and whispering, heavy accents flowing.
“Maybe eet weil eats us!” A woman’s voice, high and panicked.
“Nonsense! Theh dragoan is good! If eet attacks, I keel eet!” A man’s voice, also high and panicked.
The whispering drove the dragon off the edge. Just as she was about to move, she found that her tiny arms would budge. Green eyes looked down at the restraints. Of course. There was something still awry though. Her muscles felt…Dead. Panic wound its way from her jowls down to her stomach. She felt it drop, and then thought the inevitable: She was most likely paralyzed.
Her face went from bleary, to one of fear. She was probably paralyzed, and had no idea where she was. Which reminded her; where was this ‘Kinju’? She only remembered him laughing, and then shooting her with a dart gun. That was it! He had paralyzed her!
Saffira’s reminded hatred of the lowly man let her eyes roam the room, trying to lock onto the perpetrator and maybe throw a few nasty words at him. That is, if her good nature even let her.
A furious eyes set on the man and woman in the room. Their complexion left Saffira gasping. The couple was bone skinny, faces sunken in and eyes hollow and almost lifeless. The man had horrible cataracts, and the woman’s teeth were nearly gone from rot; or maybe something more vicious. They had snowy, thinning white hair, and faces set with wrinkles. The rags they wore only made their own situation worse, especially with the shackles around their wrists.
All the fury and rage left the kind dragon with that one look. A face of sorrow, understanding and pity replaced the feared one. The couple returned their own look, confusion, and fear, much like the one Saffira held earlier. The man started to draw a dagger from behind him, shaking as he held it professionally, and eyes setting to a more serious glare. “One pip outta you and you get eet!” He said, with no mistake in his words as he said them confidently.
Saffira inwardly flinched. Then she inhaled deeply, which was a bad idea. Pain streaked through her body, and she squinted her eyes in pain, holding her breath. She left it out and took another, beginning to talk in a calmed and soothing voice, “Human. Please do not be alarmed. I am simply finding myself in these odd situations, and it is not getting any better. Please, put your guard down, and give me some peace.” The man seemed to be taken aback by this. His eyes widened, and he took a shaky step back. His step was miscalculated, and he fell onto his elbows, which seemed as if they would break like porcelain. He yelped, and so did the woman.
They ran out of the room, leaving the door open, and shouting to someone to come. Saffira was left alone, and once the shouting faded away as they went…wherever they went. She was finally left alone. Time to think for herself, and not a brat, not a physco and not a lowly couple. So then, all these thoughts did suddenly come to her, and then she knew she had forgotten one important person: Simmikke.
Her heart raced. Simmikke, Simmikke! NO! Kinju had said something about it. What did he say?
“My name is Kinju. I am my master’s second. Your master is going to be a slave,”
A slave. That is what she had been trying to get out from. Emotions surged through her body. She had angered Kiki, and Kiki ran off. It was Saffira’s fault, it was her fault. Hers only hers, and nobody else’s. Wait, why was it her fault? It was Kinju’s! He was the one who interfered, HE was the one who had stabbed her in the gut, and let Simmikke slip from her grasp. It was entirely HIS fault!
Speaking of the devil, as these human phrases go, Kinju himself waltzed in. His forever soft expression dawned on her, as his usual smile cut across it, sending shivers down the dragon’s long spine. He held a syringe filled with a dark purple liquid. “Saffira,” His usually calm voice resounded with more evil than it had last time, “I need to give you this. Now, be a good little dragon-b***h and stay still: Oh wait, I forgot, that dart paralyzed you.” His smile twisted, and his half-lidded eyes popped open, that beautiful angelic expression gone, and now portrayed something more like a possessed girl.
Saffira froze; on the inside anyway. She was even more far gone now, and might as well have passed out from all the trauma. Her skull was cracked, fangs were missing, and she swore that ribs as well as arm ligaments had flesh torn, bruising taking place on the inside. Surprising enough, she didn’t care about any of it this moment. All that went through her mind now was the word survive.
Kinju neared her, but not how people would usually approach a dragon. His movements were swift, not wanting any room for error. The syringe was ready in his hand, poised to give the liquid quickly. “Saffira, I would like to say something before I give you this. It will hurt, AND you won’t regret a thing when you’re on it!” His normal, soft voice was replaced by something else. It was fierce and evil, barely any of the angelic harmony Saffira liked.
The dragon’s body tensed and pulled, but the bruised and paralyzed limbs would not budge. Saffira tried to snap at him with her working mouth, but was just out of reach, fangs not even close to brazing his clothes. Kinju only chuckled at her failed attempts. He took the needle, and thrust it through her scales. They shattered, and gave way for the substance to be injected in her. He pressed down, until all of it was gone.
“Now, that will take a while to start working. In the meantime, I want you to think really hard about what type of servant would best suit your master to be.” His normal voice had returned, and the sadistic face of a madman went away, leaving the softness and sweet.
Now, Saffira hadn’t thought of this, she had forgotten with all the events. She could have used her fire breathing skills. So, in this instant of “thinking hard”, she started to silently inhale, trying to fill her fire pouch the oxygen it needed to combust, and blow through her mouth. She felt the familiar heat coursing through her body, and held her breath, letting the fire brew to a hot blue temperature.
Kinju hadn’t taken note of this. He hardly knew much about dragons, his master was the one that kept the vile beasts. He had heard Saffira inhaling in, but took nothing of it as fear, or about to shout out profanities at him. Even though he was an extremely trained ninja, he still didn’t know anything.
Saffira’s snout fixed towards him. Her emerald eyes were shining, indicating that she was ready to fire. In one final breath, she released a stream of hot blue fire, and right as soon as Kinju turned his head towards the turbulence of fire ripping through the air.
His head immediately caught on fire, and then in an instant he was on the brown floor, rolling around. Something was off though. He was incredibly silent. On fire, and rolling, was a deadly silence Saffira didn’t want to hear. She tried as best as she could to move, but her body stayed in its stubbornness.
Now that the fire was off of Kinju, he stood up, and only smiled. He withdrew the syringe that was still inside the green mess of scales, and then walked out of the room. About five seconds later, he returned with a muzzle. “Oh silly me,” he mumbled. “I forgot that you dragons can breathe fire.” He then flinched at his words, “No. Not breathe. You blow fire; breathing would…What would it do?” His calm smile went to her face as he struggled the muzzle onto the snout of Saffira.
She only screwed her eyes shut. It was no point in making her body move, or try to open her mouth to shout at the ninja tying her up. She left out a long breath through her nose. Well, she’d be here for a while.
Simmikke found a figure in the mirror. It was a creepy, dark silhouette, thin and red eyed. She then looked away from it, and into the reality of the room to find nothing there with her. Her blood ran cold, and she started to hyperventilate. No, no, this was not supposed to happen. Since when did she ever get scared? Tears ran through her eyes as she curled into a fetal position. She looked back towards the mirror, seeing the form right next to her reflection. She knew nothing was beside her, so she didn’t bother moving when it bent down next to her, and took hold of her hair. Her real self imitated the hair motion. Numbness of the situation numbed her, and her eyes fell half closed.
Her mind wandered. ‘I don’t live for a purpose anyways. I don’t live for a reason. I live for nothing. So what if this thing kills me? Nobody will ever miss me. Maybe my aunt Fumiko will… But… No, she won’t.’ She buried her head in her leather clad arms. The figure was now materializing. She didn’t see anything. Not even when it took a syringe with a grey liquid.
One thing she did know was when the needle pierced her white skin in the neck. She still didn’t care. Looking up, Kiki’s vision blurred dramatically. She started to lose muscle tension, and motor skills. Or at least that was what her sadistic mind told her. A smile crept upon her face unknowingly as the figure lurked over her ear and whispered in a deep, smooth and slightly light voice, “Don’t worry. Sleep.” The voice was all too familiar, but her mind dared not catch up, not wanting to lose the lovely black invading the violet eyes of Simmikke.
Memories invaded Kiki’s mind as she went into a deep and blurry sleep.
Simmikke was about seven years old. Her tiny wings were the size of a newborns’ fist. She had been with her aunt/guardian, Fumiko. Now, Fumiko was a funny type of guardian because in all sense, she was a wolf, an Okami that would be raising Simmikke until she was ready to live on her own.
Right now, Kiki was playing with Fumiko’s grey fur, while the Okami kept watch around them; even in the vast forest she had to keep watch for anything threatening.
The wolf’s purple irises flew over and over the landscape as the three orange slashes below her eye glowed. She was sure nothing dangerous would come around, but there was never anything wrong with being too sure.
“Auntie Fumiko, are we gonna play? Like how we were playing yesterday?” A squeaky voice resounded. Even as the wolf was sitting down, the child was about as high as Fumiko. Her plain black dress was neat, and the child’s hair was fashioned straight, with bangs that covered her eyebrows.
The mini-Simmikke was referring to the training that Fumiko had put her through. The wolf had told her that they were games, and the games were things that “Grown Ups” did when they got bored. Fumiko would teach many things to Simmikke, which included fighting styles and dozens of elemental techniques.
But lately, something in the winds was changing. Something horrible.
And Fumiko could feel it.
“Auntiiee!” The squeaky voice cried, “Are we gunna plaaay?” Tiny little hands grasped the fuzzy, grey ears of the wolf, causing a slight grunt of protest, and a snarl of teeth. Fumiko groaned. She remembered how much she despised little kids. Why Kitsune had left the child to her, was a wonder to the world.
“Not today, Kiki. Today, we will be doing something different.” And then she quickly added.”And I will not hear any whining of this either!” Once again teeth bared in the direction of the now pouting child. She turned back around to search the area again, mouth still sealed in baring.
Kiki crossed her arms and huffed, “I don’t know why you gotta be so meeaan…” She mumbled almost incoherently. Of course, the wolf’s sensitive ears caught this, so then she immediately slammed her own snout shut, then spun around to face the little brat eye-to-eye. If the child didn’t listen, then more drastic measures would be taken. “Listen you little Mesu! If I have to hear something like that again, I will SHUT YOU UP IN THE CAVE!” Fumiko growled. Simmikke cowered in fear for a moment. The ‘cave’ Fumiko was referring to was their home, and when she had been shut up in there once, things started to crawl all over her skin. She had been in there for hours, screaming until her bright voice went hoarse.
A quick shake of sleek black hair told Fumiko that the child wouldn’t bother her again. A nod from her head, and she told the kid to ride on her back. Simmikke tried to throw one of her tiny, stubby legs over the wolf, failing many times. Once on though, strong legs pounced forward, aided by thickly padded paws to run through the dense forest. She felt a tiny face bury into the mane of her neck, and slight moistness.
Emotions overcrowded the furry. True, she could be entirely cruel sometimes, but whatever heart she had, could came through with the child. She almost hated herself sometimes because of it. She sighed mentally, and cursed under her breath, “Listen, my Kiki, I understand that you are…upset. If you would like, we could stop by the next village, and get some sweets?” She stated that in more of a question, hoping that Simmikke would say no. As soon as a furious nod could be felt on her neck, she almost dreaded her words.
Wolfs of course weren’t supposed to talk. They weren’t supposed to know ninja techniques either. The only place she could go where they even recognized Fumiko was in the Land of Blossoms. When she wanted to go to any village she would have to use a disguise which would waste all of her energy. She would turn into something that would be a human, but with barely noticeable ears.
Her human wore long, lavender robes, and Sensei sandals. Her skin would be pale white, and she would keep her three marks and purple eyes. Makeup was common among humans, and the eyes always attracted men. Though, she shuddered at that last thought. Even with her almost white, silvery, blonde hair she was extremely attractive, her strong, smooth curves bearing through the silky-thin robes.
The wolf sighed yet again. She had a thing where she always upheld things she was going to do. She never let them down, also showing to be a very good role model for Simmikke, hoping that when Fumiko had to leave her, she’d be okay on her own in this cruel world of unforgiving humans. Promises were never made though, and she tried as little as possible to ‘promise’ something, because, to her, when you promise something, you will fulfill it till death.
They rode in silence the rest of the way, not telling the small child on her back where they were going, knowing that the kid didn’t care as long as she got her treat in the end. The ride was hours long, running and never breaking a sweat through the forest floor, jumping over small logs, and dodging too shadowy areas. Those were where the Shadow beasts of Kimocha lurked.
They finally got to their destination: Song Town. True, the name in ‘town’ deceived that is was a tiny place, but the name stuck. The area was still in the forest, covered by trees, though it would do no good for the little place to cover up its citizens, who all took pride in their ‘song’ part of the name. Rhythms and beats of all kinds could be heard; along with singing and some occasional dancing, though, dancing wasn’t really what all the rage was.
Fumiko was about to shake her burden off, when she felt wetness again on the nape of her neck, but this wetness was different from earlier, because it had a light snoring accompanying it. A groan of disgust erupted from Fumiko. She HATED, HATED, HATED it when the brat drooled. So instead of being loving, she shook herself off as if she was wet, and off went Kiki, flung onto the ground with a flurry of dust, and a light thud.
Simmikke awoke with a start, immediately springing up like a cat, stance ready to fight off whatever interrupted her precious sleep. Fumiko took this as a chance to hone in Kiki’s fighting skills, and lunged after the small white neck not ten feet from her, making the move powerful and quick.
Simmikke dodged this effortlessly, not even thinking about what was going on, but her survival skills kicking in smoothly. After the quick move, she thought about the situation in about two seconds, analyzing the threats, and making every notation of possible moves. Now she knew they were sparring. Fun.
The momentum from the lunge kept its enigma forward. Fumiko’s paws lightly touched the dirt trail and spiraled back, jaw agape to attack the left leg. Kiki barely dodged, feeling fangs graze enough on her leg to bring blood. The light pain was only a mild distraction, and then she took the offensive to lung herself back at Fumiko, legs skirting across the dirt in a professional fashion, then as soon as she was close enough to land a punch on the wolf’s side, she engulfed her fist in a purple flame, and thrust it forward. Fumiko’s side was hit, but then it vanished, leaving a figure of stone in its wake. The fist connected with the stone, but then withdrew upon contact.
Fumiko was up in the trees, grinning. When Kiki had evaded the lunge, she used a teleportation and left a stone there with a ghost of her image. Kiki looked at her knuckle, which was now beginning to bruise. Her high senses told her to look up in time to see Fumiko coming down on the child with blades coming from her paws. Simmikke’s now yellow eyes had a pupil that narrowed like a feline’s on the incoming attack, and then glowed when she decided to take on the offensive again, and plant her small self in between the blades. She then used her strong but small legs to propel herself upwards toward the falling body and kick upwards into the wolf’s stomach.
Fumiko for once let her guard down, also knowing that she should go a little easy on the kid. She slightly regretted it when the pain surged through her stomach, and across her spine. She swore under her breath, but regained through the shock. She didn’t expect the child to be throwing kicks that hard! Her blades retracted quickly, and then she countered using a swift paw kick to the child’s shoulder, effectively dislocating it. The wolf’s second surprise was that the child was trying a new tactic.
Simmikke had instead let her arm be rendered ‘useless’, not even feeling the pain surge through her body from the dislocated arm. Now she twisted around, spinning, since they were still in the air, falling down about ten yards to the ground, Kiki let the limp arm smack, bone-breaking hard, down onto the snout of her Auntie. A sickening crack of bone could be heard while Fumiko’s nose bridge broke, and then fell harder onto the ground, clearing the five feet ascent below, causing her jaw to the ground, and her tail still hovering in the air for about five seconds before thumping down, ground against flesh and fur.
This was the first time Simmikke had every delivered an almost fatal blow. To an Okami. A human would have been dead by the first swing. A human could have never contained the potential to sense the attacks that were barely milliseconds apart, and with each blow being horribly fatal. This was one attack that could have maybe let a trained ninja live. It had crunched down on Fumiko’s nasal passage, and the bone was snapped. She was left to breathing through her mouth.
The wolf bled from her nose, getting up slowly, letting her tail limply down in a show of extending her olive branch as she slowly backed away, baring her teeth that were now completely shattered and spread everywhere. Kiki declared her victory by painlessly shoving her arm back into place. Her yellow eyes returned to purple, and gleamed with gloat. She had done the first of firsts. Finally she had hit her aunt, finally she had dodged her aunt, and finally she had defeated her aunt. In a spar. But that was beside the point!
“Nicely done, Simmikke,” Fumiko said breathlessly. The only time she ever used the name Simmikke, was when the child had done something to impress her, and this time she was very impressed. The wolf smiled as best as she could with her broken snout and teeth. She only managed a stream of blood and a sad looking smirk. She laughed at her failed attempt and then went onto repair herself. Simmikke smiled back and returned to her childish self.
Fumiko’s orange mist enveloped all the teeth and blood in a powerful breeze, surrounding everything that belonged to her DNA. A quick shot of air encircled her as the mist got darker, then to the point where you could only see a cloud of red. Once done, it quickly dispersed and left Fumiko in her human form. Strands of platinum hair covered her back and milky white face. Simmikke went up to her and took the clawed hand. Kiki beamed as they entered Song town.
Simmikke stirred in her sleep. She couldn’t comprehend anything, which started a slight panic to rise within her. She always was aware of her surroundings when woken, ALWAYS. Why not this time? This time she felt as if she’d been falling into a vibrating tube that lulled her constantly, and coaxed her to sleep in a dark abyss. The dark abyss welcomed her and sang its song of death…
Her mind wandered and though her body was wide awake and ready to snap off someone’s head, it remained sulking through the halls of its own thought. But without a brain, you can’t manage your body. This was the problem she faced when her body wanted to react to the other bodies in the room. The rising panic in her body made the mind wander to more deadly parts of her thoughts. It started with how to kill easily. Then it went to powerful and fatal techniques. This made no sense. It wanted death!
A purple hazed covered her lean body as she lay on a rickety bed. The old brown of the bed was turned black as it burned to an ash with the acidic likeness of the haze. The sleeping body reacted more and more as fangs bore out of Simmikke’s teeth, and claws erupted from her nails.
The old couple that had encountered Saffira earlier watched with horror as the mist of purple gained toward them in the little dungeon. The walls and floor were made entirely out of brick, yet it also burned, or tried to burn, it all into a black oil, or an ashy powder.
‘Kill, Kill, Kill’, was in her thoughts. Her eyes tried to show their yellow fury, but failed at opening. Instead, her body threw pathetic twitches and movements that could be said to be a “Bad Dream” to someone looking at the scene from afar. But this wasn’t the case for the old couple in the room. They shivered, feeling fear and shock rise in through their bones. The old woman held desperately onto her husband’s arm, with eyes wide as saucers, and a tremble like an earthquake.
Once again, the old man tried his hardest to seem brave. It was always their job to initiate the new slaves, whether animal or human. This didn’t seem like any human he’d ever set his eyes on though. This seemed more like the serpent they’d been told to lull, or maybe even worse. His body was set in stone as he screamed at it mentally to move out and get Kinju. It objected, and his muscles almost failed on him, making him moan in helplessness. He figured he was doomed when the purple substance would touch him.
It was his wife who acted though. He had closed his eyes for a mere moment, until a tugging persisted at his grasped arm. The tug had become so strong; he followed it, never opening his eyes. The old woman led them around what little clearance the haze let them, and got to the door to get away. Once outside of the brick prison, they took the measly wooden door, and closed it quietly, but firmly. The woman went through a door, sure that her husband could take care of this. The man nodded.
The man took off through the vast corridors, knowing the entire maze of the house by heart. He had been working here every since he was six. Now, he’d been here until his hair had gotten grey. He didn’t even remember his name, his real name. He was only known as Seven. His wife’s own back-story was equally the same.
He took a left turn at a four-way. Getting to marry his wife, he found, was entirely black. He never knew anything about it, but was only guessing Master placed them together because of the mild depression he had been going through while working. It in fact made him happy when he had found he had a wife, and instantly loved her. Her name wasn’t forgotten though. She remembered herself as Rimmy, though Master summoned her as Three.
He banked left at a three-way again. The door at the end of the corridor looked like any other door here; plain, brown, flimsy. The trick though, was that this door was extremely hard to open, except with a certain knock.
Seven fisted his hand and rapped his knuckles four times on the door rapidly, waited three seconds, then rapped two more times. The wood hissed at him, and then itself glowed an eerie green. It transformed into a royal green door, decorated with golden flowers and creatures. The knob was made of pure ruby, and Seven was careful not to smudge its delicacy as he took it into his large and bony hand.
He pushed it in, and then a pair of pale, tan hands immediately grabbed his chest, and took him into the brightness of the room. The door shut right behind him, and then locked. The room inside was horribly white, candles blazed white fire, making the room bright snow white, and hurtful to the eyes. Seven blinked a few times to adjust his dull, brown eyes to the illumination, and then settled them onto a shirtless Kinju.
Kinju’s fair skin was ripped with muscles. He was incredibly light framed, which concealed most of those muscles into him, making his body have almost no fat upon it. He was the “lovely” age of 22, which was the way Master had put it when Seven had seen him shirtless the first time. Master was odd sometimes.
His strong and pale figure against the bright illumination was breathtaking, even for Seven. He had to admit: Kinju looked pretty good in the light. The coolness of the room even erected the strong man’s nipples quite a bit, though, Seven wasn’t like that. He loved his wife, and wasn’t really interested into homosexuality. He simply knew when a handsome man was in his presence.
Kinju crossed his arms and gazed at the old man before him with a quizzical expression. His soft features barely moved an inch when he spoke softly,” What do you need, slave? I assure you that whatever it is, can be dealt with easily. And, please do bow; I do not like to see that you show no respect for me.” As soon as the white-haired male said this, the other quickly got to his knees and bowed in all respect for the second in command. His beige rags slithered on the ground, and he spoke, barely raising his head to not sound