Bound by Corruption by BelovedStranger

Darkness Unleashed

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Word Count: 2,440

Glossary:

Daimyo – Feudal Lord

Shiro – Castle

Tenshu – Main Keep of a castle

Nushi – Master, God, Lover

“WHAT THE HELL do you think you are doing, daemon?!”

Tatsuo didn’t glance at him, didn’t raise a hand in Onigumo’s direction; however, a strong force struck him in the chest, sending him flying backwards, where he struck the far wall with jarring force. Onigumo’s head made a sickening thunk against the hard surface before he fell to the floor in a boneless heap. Lights sparked before his eyes on impact, and when he tried to move, nausea threatened.

“You are becoming a nuisance, human,” Tatsuo told him after he’d finished chanting in a language Onigumo didn’t understand. “Have a care that you do not anger me further, or I may forget we have a contract.”

Lifting his pounding head, Onigumo winced, trying to blink his vision back into focus. How badly was he hurt? He forced himself to his feet, shaking with the effort and nearly blacked out. His double vision solidified, and he saw Tatsuo with an arm around Kagome’s back, with a hand cupping her elbow. As if she needed the support, she leaned into his body, looking almost child-like next to the towering inugami, while pressing her hand to her forehead. Onigumo’s heart skyrocketed.

Determined, Onigumo placed a hand on the wall behind him, finding that he needed the support, and ignored the youkai’s warning. “What did you do to her?”

“Fulfilling our contract,” came the unconcerned response, as though it were obvious. “You desired two things from me. For your pitiful life to be saved and vengeance.” Now, he turned his cunning, ice blue eyes on him, unnerving Onigumo. Tatsuo drew Kagome a step closer to Onigumo, prompting him to look at the girl. “Here is the key that will avenge you.”

“The key—” Onigumo stared incredulously from one to the other, before narrowing his eyes on the inugami. “You can’t be serious. Sesshomaru will kill her!”

Tatsuo stroked the back of Kagome’s bent head with tender affection. The gesture seemed wrong. Worser still, Kagome appeared to accept it. He couldn’t see her face, veiled by her unbound hair, but when she turned her face into Tatsuo’s chest of her own volition, alarm hammered his pulse in time with the pounding in his skull.  

He didn’t know the miko well but even he could tell this was unlike her. What had he done to her?

“Did you hear that, little bird?” Tatsuo lowered his gaze to Kagome, but his mockery was directed solely at Onigumo, using his pet name for the miko. “Our Onigumo seems to lack faith in your abilities.”

At his words, Kagome lifted her head, her hair falling back from her face to reveal an expression Onigumo had never seen there before. The grin that split her lips was ugly. And her eyes. They were a solid black, devouring even the sclera, leaving nothing but a dark void.

A shiver went down his spine.

“Onigumo, do you fear for my safety?” she purred at him.

Even her voice had changed, but what really caught his attention was the malice he heard underlying the seductive tone. He swallowed thickly. 

“This is not what I wanted,” he rasped. “Kagome isn’t a part of this. I will not have her placed in danger!”

“You are under the mistaken impression that you have a choice.” Tatsuo asserted without inflection, expression empty.

“The hell I don’t!” Onigumo took a cautious step forward. His head swam, but he gritted his teeth and did not fall. Reacting on reflex, he reached towards his hip, only for his hand to came up empty. He was unarmed. Impotent. 

“The moment our contract was forged, all your choices became mine.”

“What?!”

“Did you really believe there would be no price for an inugami’s aid? Always something precious is taken from the contractor. Wealth, station, loved ones. In our little bird’s case, Sesshomaru’s price was her innocence.” Tatsuo heard the thud of his heart at that proclamation, for he grinned. “Is that all you ever think about, ningen? Innocence is much more then fornication.” He shook his head, dark hair rustling. “And you humans call daemons animals. No, Sesshomaru desired more. To corrupt a being the kami have blessed with purification’s light, to encourage this little bird to see the darkness inside of herself, and to revel in it.”

“Stop calling her that!”

“Why?” Kagome spoke up. “You gave me that name, without care what I thought.”

Onigumo grit his teeth at finding himself outnumbered.

Ignoring Kagome’s asinine comment, Onigumo gave Tatsuo a pointed glare. “Yet you appear to have succeed in that aim where Sesshomaru had failed. Is it standard practice among you inugami to interfere with another’s contract?”

“Interfere? Am I interfering, little bird?” Tatsuo deferred to Kagome with a glance down at her.

In answer, she cuddled closer, even rubbed her cheek against the fiend’s chest. The sight was sickening. This was not his little—Kagome. He couldn’t even think of her as his little bird now without a wave of disgust.

“And what is my price to pay for your services?” He sneered the last, all the while, foreboding made his heart sink, for he feared he already knew the answer.

Tatsuo didn’t disappoint.

Again, that clawed hand petted the onna. “You appear to have developed a quick attachment to Sesshomaru’s miko. Dear I say, an obsession? She is my price.”

“You want her to die, you bastard! What if I were to dissolve out contract right here, right now?”

“You won’t.” Tatsuo’s confidant assurance irritated Onigumo—because he was right. “You are not the self-sacrificing sort, warlord. Even had you been, your sacrifice would have been in vain. Not only would your life be forfeit for reneging on our contract, it would change nothing. Other than you missing out on the satisfaction of witnessing the demise of your nemesis.”

A crass expletive erupted across his thoughts, and Onigumo had to bit his tongue least it spewed like venom from his tongue.

A dark brow lifted. “You project loudly. You must want me to hear, on some level.” Tatsuo cocked his head to the side, regarding him. “I should kill you now for your impudence.”

Onigumo tensed, but Tatsuo never struck. Instead, he chuckled, the sound soft and filled with dark amusement.

“However, I find myself in a benevolent mood. I will allow you to see your vengeance through.”

But what of after? he thought but did not dare ask.

“What about what Kagome wants?!”

“When has her wants ever mattered to you?” Tatsuo then surprised him by humoring him. Tatsuo cupped Kagome’s her face in his large palms to tilt her head back to meet his gaze, unconcerned by the void of her eyes. “What do you want, little bird? What do you yearn for?” A purr, the first hint of inflection Onigumo had ever heard from the inugami. It sent alarm bells ringing in Onigumo’s throbbing skull.

“Vengeance,” she replied silkily.

His heart was having a fit when Tatsuo leaned towards her, bowing his back to reach her. Lips pressed above her brow, a mockery of affection, but Onigumo wasn’t a fool. Both of them were nothing more than pawns for Tatsuo’s amusement, toys to be used and discarded when their usefulness—or amusement—came to an end.

Then Tatsuo and Kagome turned to him in unition. Both of their stares were daemonic, but whereas one was cold and unfeeling, the other was consumed by a malicious glee.

“You have your answer,” Tatsuo murmured to him with a satisfied smirk.

What have I done? Onigumo thought, staring at the vile woman who looked like the miko but wasn’t really her.

Kagome…

HE WAS RUNNING headlong into a trap, there was no doubt, but Sesshomaru did not hesitate or slow his approach when the fortress came into sight.

Abandoned years ago, rumor in the surrounding villages whispered of a family conspiracy, of an envious younger brother poisoning the elder. Without offspring, the lands, property, and title had passed to the younger, who had not hesitated in securing his reign with an iron fist. Until tragedy struck, ending his rule. Many were of the mind that the daimyo’s ill-fortune was punishment for the crimes against his elder brother; though, such disputes within royal families were exceedingly commonplace, pitting family member against family member in a deadly game, playing who would end up on top. 

Here, legend departed from truth, but only the dead were cognizant of the contract that had secured the younger brother’s seat.

Fearful that his other siblings or cousins would act against him in a similar fashion of assassination to gain power for themselves, he’d taken steps to remove their mechations. One by one, members of his family met an untimely death. Brother, sisters, whether full sibling or only half. Even aunts and uncles, along with all of his cousins. Strange deaths. Impossible to be by chance. While one died of choking on a chicken bone during diner, another died in a riding accident. One fell down the stairs and broke his neck, another grew sick of a fever and died.

There was a death from a mule’s kick, falling into a river, a broken skull from a fallen branch, tripping over his own feet and bashing his head on a rock, or even swallowing an insect. Each accident became more ridiculous than the last, but the deaths were real, and the villagers became frightened. There were whispers that the daimyo had made a deal with a youkai—or that he was a daemon himself, or possessed by a malevolent spirit.

During the daimyo’s decade long reign, miko and monks had journeyed to the shiro upon hearing these rumors, only to leave without a single exorcism. No malignant spirit in need of cleansing had been found, no daemon discovered to be destroyed. But the queer deaths continued, until every one of the daimyo’s line was dead. All but his own children.

Until they, too, started dying.

When the last of his off-spring passed to the after-life, three days later, the lord of the shiro was found by a servant. The wretched man had hung himself. Since then, the shiro had stood abandoned. None dared take possession of the fortress for fear of falling to the curse that had ended an entire linage.

None but the dead knew the truth, and they were passed whispering their secrets. Except for the one who should have died.

Now, Sesshomaru entered the shiro grounds through the front gate, left open in invitation. He knew nothing of the previous occupants. What cared he for ningen politics and family feuds? He knew all he needed to know, that the shiro was Tatsuo’s secret lair in the mortal plane, where he could hide from enemies gained over centuries of scheming and plotting, not for any materialistic gain, but for the mere pleasure to circumvent those of great prestige, power, and cunning. Ningen. Youkai. All were far game to Tatsuo’s unscrupulous machinations.

Tatsuo’s secret refuge was known to none.

Except Sesshomaru and only after calling on a certain youkai seer. Kazuo’s aid had come at an exorbitant price. Had the circumstances not been of such paramount importance, he never would have agreed to the trade.

When he entered the tenshu, shadows consumed the interior. No lanterns were lit, no candle’s flame flickered. The halls were dark, the chambers lost in shadows. The once bustling shiro appeared abandoned, but Sesshomaru knew better. The castle reeked of magic.

It had been decades since Sesshomaru’s last visit. There should have been a thick layer of dust to mark the passage of time, but not even a speck dirtied the floors or graced a single surface. No cobwebs dominated even the highest of corners, no evidence of insects or mice having made their homes in the walls. Everything remained as spotless as the day the humans had fled. Even the expensive and beautifully crafted furnishings remained. Paintings lined the walls. Statues, elaborate pottery. Countless treasures remained. No thief had dared pillage from a property so obviously ravaged by a curse. The shiro had become an unblemished mausoleum of a decayed dynasty.

An inugami’s trophy. 

The evidence of Tatsuo’s survival was in every pour of the building; though, his presence was absent. Magic of this magnitude required replenishing. Without it, the residence would start the gradual process of deterioration and crumble by the ravaging of time.

Tatsuo was here. Hiding.

Pathetic.

The darkness did nothing to impede Sesshomaru, his sharp eyes penetrating every shadow with ease. The moment he entered the building, he’d stopped running. There was no longer the need. He didn’t need to find Tatsuo. The coward would find him. His senses were on high alert, waiting for the trap to trigger. While he waited, he tried to catch the merest hint of Kagome’s presence. A wayward scent, a trace of reiki.

Water dripped from his saturated clothes to soak into rich rugs and thick tatami mats, while the mud on his boots stained everywhere he walked. Sesshomaru continued on, uncaring of the mess he left in his wake. The storm had come—for Tatsuo.

Sesshomaru refused to worry for Kagome’s wellbeing. The distraction of feelings would do nothing but play into Tatsuo’s mind games.

The storm outside was unrelenting, raging. He could hear the pattering of rain and the rumbling of thunder.

Then a footstep.

Light. Distant.

Sesshomaru turned in that direction without hesitation, confidence oozing from him with his utter lack of concern. Let Tatsuo scheme. No matter how cunning the other youkai believed himself to be, Sesshomaru was the superior. He was led further into the shiro. Nothing happened.

Then he sensed it. A presence.

Sesshomaru narrowed his eyes on the doorway yards ahead of him. Cloaked in magic, he could not discern the presence’s identity. Unconcerned and tired of waiting, he commanded, “Show yourself. You cannot hide from me, craven.”

A twinkling laugh filtered from the room in answer.

“Come to rescue me, nushi?” Kagome stepped from the side chamber. “How gallant of you.”

Her smile was curved in welcome, a seductive invitation he’d never before been gifted, but it was her eyes that stilled the breath in his lungs. Her brown eyes—he’d once thought of as ordinary—were eclipsed by a black void that had even consumed the whites of her eyes, but that wasn’t the worst of her transformation. He sensed it, the energy pulsating from her, no longer concealed from his perception.

No longer could he sense her purity. All he perceived was a soul overcome by darkness.

What stood before him wasn’t his miko, but a perversion.