╰┈➤ᴠᴀʀɪᴏᴜꜱ x ᴢᴇɴɪᴛꜱᴜ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
❝𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐘, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖!❞ In which Y/n Agatsuma, an apprehensive wimp who only wants to get married and live a domestic life, becomes a Hunter, sorry, is forced to become a Hunter because of...
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗬-𝗙𝗢𝗨𝗥: 𝗦𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗜𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧
𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐎𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌, 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.
In life, there were plenty of things to scream about. For example, you might scream in response to a thrilling surprise, an exciting encounter, out of fear or...perhaps when in pain. All of which were valid reasons to scream.
Riku wanted nothing more than to scream her lungs out from the excruciating pain flooding her entire system. This outcome was not on the list of things she deemed possible after opening the door to Warabihime's room. Her insides were hot, adrenaline and distress surging through her veins like burning streams of lava.
Never in her life had she felt such physical pain before.
And while her body was suffering, her face switched back and forth between contorting with pure agony and stiffening with a shocked daze. It had all happened so quickly that even one minute after having her leg violently torn off, she still had trouble processing her reality. The realisation had only hit her once a pool of blood began to encircle her body.
Thick scarlet encased her completely, sticking to her fingers, her hair and drenching her clothes. Although she didn't make a conscious effort to note it, somewhere in the back of Riku's mind was astonishment at the seemingly endless amount of blood spurting from her injuries.
Who knew the human body could have so much of it?
Her tired eyes peered up disjointedly at the ceiling while her body lay lifelessly on the tatami mat of Warabihime's room. Despite her brain already accepting her fate, the occasional twitching of her limbs reminded her that she had yet to take her final breath.
As the pain became increasingly unbearable, the inability to unleash the blood-curdling shrieks stuck in the back of her throat crushed any wishful thinking she might have held onto. Her devastation derived from the dainty pale hand wrapped around her throat, aggressively squeezing her windpipe.
Riku couldn't utter a sound, a word, a sentence, much less an ear-piercing scream—a desperate cry for help that might draw the right kind of attention. She couldn't do any of that.
The fingers digging into her throat pressed deeper, gripping firmly with a vice-like grip before jerking the girl forward like a ragdoll. At that moment, Riku settled her disoriented, passive eyes on Warabihime's vibrant lime ones, peering down at her disdainfully.
It was like looking down the barrel of a gun, simultaneously knowing that something was to come, yet not precisely when.
"The way you stare at me is repulsive," Warabihime gagged, turning her nose up at the blood-soaked girl beneath her. "Who gave you the right to gawk at me?"
