Yokai Fight (Yandere!Reverse Harem!Yokai x GN!Reader)

1 - Fight Song

And then he turns his cheek to you, stepping back and roughly pulling his clothes from your grasp.

"Keep your toy under control," is all he says in the end, and your heart breaks into a thousand pieces. Your one chance at escape disappearing before your eyes. You feel a metaphorical hole open up beneath you, and quickly, quickly, quickly, you're falling into despair. A hand grabs you by the back of your neck again, and you choke out another pathetic plea before you're tugged backwards.

"Sure, sure! As long as our bets stay the same, who cares."

A final blood-red glance over his shoulder.

"I don't care about any of that. We both know they'll have no effect on the fight, anyway," he turns back to his group and walks to them. Even as the announcer continues and the rest of the people in the ring ready their weapons, he still doesn't turn.

And that's that. You're dead.

You look up, blurry eyes taking in a starless sky, red fabric crisscrossing above you.

Finally, you let yourself acknowledge that despairing thought from earlier. The horrible, terrible one that made your head hurt and your heart ache and your eyes sting.

Maybe, just maybe, you were dead as soon as you woke up.

A muffled gong rings out through the arena, and the crowd grows its frenzy. You look over your shoulder, and hundreds- no, thousands of bloodthirsty faces stare you down. Monsters, you realise. They're all the monsters you were told stories of as a child. Yokai. Their screams, just like the gong, just like the fight behind you, are quiet. You feel far away, numb. Like you're watching this from above, an out-of-body experience of sorts.

In the storm of flying hands and shoving bodies, a flash of white appears. A pair of pink eyes stare at you, and the world grows even quieter.

They're familiar. You can't remember why.

A body slams into you, and the deafening sound rushes back like a tidal wave. You're bulldozed into the concrete arena floor, bouncing against the harsh stone. Air escapes you, and as you gasp in more, you watch a man speared through above you.

His body falls to the ground, mouth gurgling blood. It's one of the demons who took you, horrified red eyes staring into yours. He doesn't move again, that frightened stare frozen in place for all eternity.

He's dead.

The sword that pierced him is pulled out, spraying guts and gore. The sharp katana's blade reflects your bloodied face. The person who just killed the ogre doesn't spare you a glance, turning to fight his next competitor.

A bloody battle unfolds before you, and all you can do is watch and hope nothing gets in your mouth.

Gagging, gasping, choking, feeling like you're about to faint, you push to your hands and knees. Your body is too weak, and you fear being spotted and hunted if you stand fully. So you move forward, crawling past corpse after corpse to the edge of the ring. You count more demons than fox masks, proving that the team you'd been forced into was losing terribly. You wish you could say there was a part of you laughing at their misfortune, an avenging fury.

Sadly, you couldn't. All you could feel was fear. Your fury was dismally small compared to the overwhelming might of your panic.

Because above all else, you were a coward.

Someone grabs your leg, and you cry out in shock and pain. Their grip is crushing, and you can feel your bones' integrity waning under their grip. Your head whips around to find the leader staring at you with a savage grin. He's also crawling on the ground, and with too many wounds to survive. He's missing a horn.