Naruto Of The Shikon

Chapter 13: A Broken Wind

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The Jewel never ceased to mesmerize him. The beautiful deadly colors that sang from it-the deep magenta of sunset, the bright fuchsia of anger, the pink of a spring blossom- they all enthralled him.

The facets sparkled deep within the nearly- completed Shikon with their own light. THIS was the key to ultimate power, and rarely did it take such a beautiful form. The dark lord could stare at the Jewel for hours, idly dreaming of its vast, untapped potential.

The dark hanyou was startled from his enjoyable contemplation by a purple-black miasma that erupted in the center of his shadowed room. Red eyes narrowing angrily, he waited as the swirl of purple-pierced blackness condensed and fell away, revealing the broken, naked woman that lay huddled on the tatami matted floor.

The female youkai was curled into a fetal position, gasps of pain shuddering through the cringing form. Long tangles of wavy black hair barely covered pasty white skin. Singed and burned raw in various places, none of the recent wounds could match the distinctive spider mark burned into her back.

Normally sharp claws were torn off at the tips, and she bled sullenly in places where she had been lacerated. The limp awkwardness of some of her extremities showed that her delicate bones had been fractured in many spots.

"Kagura."

The voice sent a deep shudder through the woman. A single tear slipped out of one tightly closed eye as she tried to curl away from that awful voice.

The dark lord smiled at the wind youkai's terror. Terror was an aphrodisiac to the dark hanyou. He relished it like a fine wine-studying the dark layers of pain with an eye to its beauty, smelling the delicate aroma of aroused fear, tasting the delicious fright in all its pain and helplessness. Terror was erotic.

He wondered idly if he should take the female youkai here and now. Her broken body, so helpless to move, might prove more entertaining than the times he had commanded her to lie with him, her angry defiance controlled by the clutch of her heart in his hand. Her pain and terror as he took her now, helpless and broken, might alleviate some of his anger at her failure.

But no. Sexual gratification could be gotten anywhere. Any pitiful peasant girl, brought to the heights of terror by judicious use of pain and threat, could assuage his dark lust. Lying with the broken youkai would be like lying with the dead. And there was only one corpse he would ever consider taking to his bed, and she, in her cold contempt, was still-as yet-unattainable.

Long moments of silence stretched on, as the dark hanyou studied the broken youkai cowering on the tatami mats. Finally, the terrified woman could stand it no more, and opened frightened red eyes to stare at the shadowed form of her Master.

The hanyou Naraku was deadly, but mesmerizing. His beauty was dark and threatening. Thick black hair tumbled in sensuous curls down his back and a well-muscled chest was revealed by the casual openness of his purple robes.

The white fur of a baboon's skin draped his lower body like the swirl of a frothy wave. Narrow red eyes regarded the woman coldly.

"You have failed me. Again."

The eyes closed tightly, another tear following the track of the first down her pale cheek.

"You are useless to me now. You have lost your control on the winds." The dark lord flicked a hand at the wind youkai's empty, burnt fingers. The purifying wave that had attacked the Wind Sorceress had split her fan in two.