The Traps We Set by emmaren

Prelude to Insanity

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN INUYASHA AND CO., NOR DO I MAKE ANY MONEY FROM THIS

AN: My flow is coming back to me, but this screamed to get out. I warn you, it is very dark at first.

                It had broke, all that was had broken. No, the world had not ceased its journey through the universe, but still all was broken… she was broken. Her purity had burned through her and left only charred crystals of youth and innocence.

                Hollow cackles rose through a cracked larynx. A mind wandered in and out of lucidity. Moments begged for answers to questions that could never be voiced, as idle hands rand over ridged skin that had once be flawless. She had a name… once. She had a home, a family, a future, and a smile, once upon a time.

                Once upon a time she had been a girl. Once upon a time she had been pulled into a dry well. Once upon a time she had died to save the world. Once upon a time the Kami had bequeathed her a second chance at happiness for her sacrifice. Once upon a time her fairytale had been authored by the brothers Grimm…

                There was a boy who, by his nature, fought within his own skin. Outcast and alone, his instincts spoke of the need for pack, until they thundered within his mind. The boy had been sealed to a tree, left to a magical sleep that caused his conscience to become hollow. Then one day a girl on the cusp of womanhood with illuminated sapphire eyes came to free him.  She loved him with all that her fractured soul could give. He twisted that love to bring about the only thing he truly wished for… pack.

                The boy played at alpha, while future members of his pack withered in her womb or arms after only days from their first breath. Assured in his status as leader, the boy took other women to his bed. It could never be his fault that prodigy did not survive. He was alpha, his needs reigned supreme.

                Caught in his own delusions, the boy never grew to a man. He never noticed his mistreatment of all those within his pack. The months that turned to years, then decades, saw the death of many, and the girl who unleashed this monster upon the world barely changed with time. While others gained wrinkles, she gained scars. The boy used her to vent his most untamed lust because this bitch, unlike the others who usually died in the first birthing of stillborn, could take it.  His first proved her worth as his whore, for whatever his demented mind came up with her body could take.

                The chains that bound the listless sapphire eyed girl to the boy would weaken with each new “alpha” bitch he brought back to their den. The boy had tucked her far in the woods where she forgot all, even to pay attention to the changing of the seasons. Until one day… red hair and green eyes found her.

                She knew him, or had long ago, when she was not a battered shell. Before the countless graves she had dug, before the world was broken. She knew him, but he refused to believe that it was really her. This thing could not be his long lost mother. This thing was twisted and used, evil by proxy.

                Mother had been a fountain of life; this thing only reeked of death. Mother would be old and feeble. The thing before the kitsune was a shell of battered youth. No power came from the creature before him, mother had been limitless. Whatever this imposture was, it needed to be shredded, yet claws were not enough.

                “Kagome…”

                A name, a name to shatter her prison cell. That was what she had been called, not bitch. As the soul began to stir in its broken case, all her transgressions raced to confront her. Sapphire dropped from emerald, to take in the sight of her alpha’s latest two victims. How many had it been since she last tried to warn them to run?  Ten? Twenty?

                Kagome could feel them now, the souls sacrificed in a doomed pursuit of pack.

                “No,” It was her voice. The one that had been silent since the boy had torn open her throat for telling him to stop. The boy, red, white and gold flashed before her mind’s eye. She had to stop the boy.

                The souls from this haunted ground agreed with her. First, she had to free them, for she would not be the clay shell that trapped innocents.

                “Run,” it was the only warning given to the kitsune before the power surged out of her mangled body. The kitsune stood his ground as he watched flickers of mother surface to war with the pain embedded in the desolate ground.