2 comments/ 18387 views/ 2 favorites Waking Blood Ch. 02 By: James Cody *Sanguine Offerings I They found the bloodied body next to the ashen remains of their once terrible and beautiful mistress. The Lady Ioshi's body smoldered in the mid day sunlight while the broken and pierced body of her favorite, Satoru, laid by her side, caked in dried blood and bile. The assembled hesitated, fearful of what mighty force could have decimated such powerful beings. Beyond them, gray eyes stared at the devastated training compound from beneath a heavy woolen hood. He was the oldest of the Lady's servants and had been taught many of the secrets she was to bestow upon the young Satoru -- the elder was the first of the weapons she had tried to forge before falling upon the young tiger. The old man lurched forward on his walking stick, pushing aside the trembling familiars to a now demised vampire queen -- he painfully lowered himself to his crumbling knees and inspected Satoru's body, paying close attention to the pattern of his crumbled chest. Pushing the hood back with ravaged fingers, he lowered his hairless head near the gaping wound. It was still moist -- he reached into it and found an eerie warmth surrounding Satoru's dead heart. The elder servant made a harsh gesture with his chin and two of the assembled gawkers helped him to his feet. The old man then spat a dark, phlegmy clump of mucus to the ground, much to the disgust of the young familiars. He then tapped Satoru's body and pointed to a small temple at the far end of the Lady's compound. The other servants and familiars scrambled to assemble a makeshift stretcher and carefully lay Satoru's body upon it and carry it to the temple. As the old familiar watched them go, he closed his eyes and said a short prayer to his ancestors before reverently moving Lady Ioshi's remains into the wind where they crumbled to dust and were carried aloft by the cool breeze. II The temple transcended its size by way of deceptive magics, allowing for it to be larger inside than the exterior suggested. The servants of the Lady Ioshi deposited Satoru's body at the bottom of a wide, triangular basin carved of marble and lined with aged blackwood. At each of the three corners, atop a column of stairs were a pile of satiny cushions illuminated by flickering torches, inviting pleasure and debauchery. Down the sides of the basin, grooved channels lead whatever flowed from the cushioned decks to the center where Satoru's body rested. The elder familiar spread his arms wide -- despite the pain that wracked his limbs he indicated the three corners of the basin. For each corner, a man and woman, loyal servants to the Lady, climbed the stairs and rested among the cushions. Each of the young men and women were beautiful and pristine examples of the virginal beauty the Lady Ioshi had gathered. The elder judged these servants ready and he crashed his walking stick against the marble floor surrounding the basin and the servants began their ritual. Each man stood and removed the silken robe that wrapped his lean, muscular body while each woman undid the bridles in her hair, letting their ebony manes flow across their slender shoulders; the women removed their silk robes and they kneeled before their partners. Three mouths tentatively approached three erect cocks of equally impressive length -- a trio of tongues moved in tandem around the warm, silky flesh of the erections and each man buckled to varying degree under the expert ministrations One grabbed the hair of his mistress and thrust his cock deeply into her throat, forcing her to gag on his thick, throbbing member. Another closed his eyes and shivered as the woman accelerated her bobbing and his balls smacked against her chin. The third man gyrated his hips slowly while his partner barely moved and he whispered the Lady's name upon each thrust. The elder familiar laid an approving eye upon the the couples, evaluating how forceful their heartbeats must be. His frayed, cracked lips formed a grim smile as the couples surrendered their ritualistic lovemaking and succumbed to the more instinctive impulses of lust. Before such passion even the old familiar's loins tingled with desire. He then twitched and slammed his staff against the cool floor, resonating another command. The couples relented their intimate embrace and the men laid their partners onto the cushions and the brought their faces near their petaled gardens. One pressed his tongue against his lady's button and she moaned and writhed while he sucked on her pussy lips. Another took his partners knees and pushed her legs to her shoulders and lapped greedily and obscenely at her framed pussy; her squealing moans echoed off the walls of the dimly lit temple. The third man had spread his partners legs to their limit and was violently sliding three fingers into her gushing cunt while he devoured her swelling clit, lathering it with his slobbering tongue while his woman shivered on the cushions and held back her screams as she pinched her hardening nipples. The elder closed his clouded eyes and listened to the melody of bliss the women were playing as their bodies were wracked by pleasure. It always surprised him how the women the Lady Ioshi would choose to be her maidens were so attuned to their sexual power as the Lady was attuned to her own might. The men were chosen for being pristine examples of virility -- which was why he had silently questioned the Lady's decision of bringing a child into their midst, though as Satoru grew and became a being of raw physicality, the elder -- already ancient when Satoru first joined them -- recognized the boy as the Lady's future masterpiece. And now, Satoru lied dead at the bottom of the basin. The old familiar tsked and struck the floor another time with his creaking staff. The couples were startled from their erotic trance and maneuvered to fully consummate their unions. One released his woman's nub and mounted her in the intimate way, his weight holding her down as he placed his hard cock at the edge of the woman's moist slit. Both held their breathes as he pierced the fragile gate of her virginity. Another slipped beneath his woman and watched hungrily as she straddled him -- she guided his root to the soft black hair covering her mons till it parted her hesitant pussy lips and she then slid down his manhood, biting her lower-lip as he parted her, her pain a delectable transition to the pleasure of being fucked. The third man moved his woman like a doll and placed her on her hands and knees. He grabbed her hips and unceremoniously entered her cunt with a single thrust. She squealed and tears wetted her cheeks and then she moaned as her pussy embraced its violent intruder. The elder familiar watched intently as the three coupling pairs attacked the task of fucking with varying degrees of determination. He saw in their movements innocence, trepidation, rage ... transcending emotions that permeated blood with energy. Each couple moved at a rhythm that set their bodies alight with the fiery glow of bliss and the elder knew the time was soon. Serving a vampire meant having an intimate knowledge of the passions of blood. The temple filled with the smacking of flesh on flesh and the joined moans and grunts of the lovers as they approached orgasm. The elder familiar found a slight notch in the floor that matched the end of his staff and it fit snugly around the wooden tip. The old man closed his eyes, allowing his more subtle senses to follow the lovers' progress till they reached their fever peak -- he smelled it first, an arcane mustiness that filled the temple. Then, it was the raggedness of their breathing, shallow, then deep. And then the shift in vibration in the floor as their hearts pumped blood with tremendous alacrity. The elder turned his staff and there was a click. The couples' ecstasy reached its pinnacle while a series of gears and springs beneath the temple floor came to life. The couples were frozen in bliss and their voices shattered as long, slim metal pikes shot up through the cushions, tearing away at skin and cracking bones as they were impaled. Blood splattered the cushions with nearly purple stains while droplets pearled and rolled down the sides of the basin till they exploded against Satoru's cold body. The elder familiar glared grimly as the warm blood pooled at the bottom of the pikes before beginning its trek down the slanted platforms so it could be funneled by minute grooves in the wood till it reached the three main channels that led to Satoru. The blood accelerated as it streamed down the sides of the basin and washed over Satoru like tides over a lifeless reef. But as the blood struck him, the skin soaked it up like a rag. "What has been given freely," the old familiar said. The impaled bodies were exsanguinated and all their blood was pooled around Satoru's body -- as the crimson liquid was absorbed, his wretched form rebuilt itself. "Ioshi ..." Satoru whispered as he sat up in the swirling puddle of blood, a crimson tear rolled down his cheek, while the remaining blood pooled withing the wild white of his eyes. III An old familiar stood next to a revenant as they both stood before the destroyed training hall and boudoir where the Lady Ioshi had fought and loved for their last time. The setting sun cast an orange halo around their silhouettes. "What are you?" the elder familiar asked the revenant. "Satoru." Faster than the eye could follow, the old man struck Satoru to the head with his ancient staff. Satoru stumbled back and the skin of his temple split and rivulets of blood ran down his cheek, but the gash was already sealing itself when he faced the old man, rage boiling behind his eyes. "What! Not who." "Rage ... hate ... desire ..." "Name yourself." "Satoru." Again the staff flew with blinding speed, but to Satoru it was as if it moved through stagnant water. He caught the staff and his hand shot out to grab the now feeble looking old familiar and slam him to the floor. With a single twist of his wrist, the staff splintered and Satoru pressed a shard to the old man's throat. "Satoru. I am kaiju. I ...thirst. " The elder smiled and Satoru allowed him up. Although he stood quiet, Satoru could hear the old man's blood rushing, as well as all the blood flowing within all the living familiars still in the compound. The thirst came over him suddenly -- it tore at his throat and scorched his sight red. "And that part of you demands," the elder said. "Foolish thing to fall in love. Now look at her. Look at you." The elder familiar reached into his robes and extracted a tanto blade and held it out to Satoru in his bony, leathery hand. "So much you need to know, but so little time." Satoru took the tanto knife and it seemed to mold itself to his hand. "I have here," the old familiar said, tapping his temple with a yellowish fingernail. "You have there," he added, pointing t Satoru's chest. "Feed and you will know." Satoru shivered at the thought, disgust and delight constricting his throat at the thought of filling it with warm, darkly crimson fluid. "If I start, I won't be able to stop," Satoru whispered, the blade gleaming in the setting sun. "We know," the ancient familiar said. Before he could say another word, Satoru was on him and the tanto had left a scarlet gash across the old familiar's throat and Satoru caught the red geyser in his mouth. The arterial spray colored his features and coated the back of his throat while Satoru felt a vibration of energy ripple through his coiled muscles and down his cock. With the flow of blood came a flood of memories and experiences -- a young man seduced by a beautiful, cold woman; an act of vengeance she commits on his behalf in exchange of service; the burial of a loved one whose face is lost to memory; then, apprenticeship in the passions of blood. The old familiar's eyes were wide and clouded and a smile colored his face, though blood bubbled at the edge of his parted lips -- he was dead but Satoru wanted, needed, more. Satoru turned towards the inner courtyard. The moon was rising and the last dozen of the Lady Ioshi's familiars -- men and women -- were prostrate before him. His nostrils filled with the scent of blood and the musky odor and fear and desire. Though his cock was hard, it was blood and secrets he required. "What is given freely!" they chanted as he moved among them till he finally stopped by a young woman. He looked into her eyes as he leaned her head back and slid the tanto blade across the soft skin of her neck. As Satoru drank her gushing blood, she sighed in relief. *Kaiju, Crimson Road I The oil glistened off the sharp edge of the ancient blade as he poured some down the sword's width. He lovingly began to polish the cold metal with a soft cotton chiffon like the ones she ad used. Satoru watched as the oil penetrated the blade, invigorating it with a new passion for bloodshed. In one swept motion he wiped the excess oil off and followed up with a whipping gesture to wash away any excess droplets the way he would droplets of blood after a cut. In the haze of the small fire he had built, he pressed the flat side of the blade to his high forehead to honor it and then presented the sword to the moonlight. He then rose to his feet, took a deep, cleansing breath, and proceeded to engage in the old forms Lady Ioshi had taught him for eleven years. Satoru remembered Ioshi's graceful movements as she danced death with a sword: a step, a thrust, a cut, a death, a shifting position fluid like wind over water. She was elemental. When Ioshi first put a sword in his hands, he could barely lift it -- a feebleness he held accountable for his failure in saving his brother -- but as the months, then the years, passed, he grew stronger, swifter. He would never match Ioshi's grace, but his own style became an ode to his inborn animalistic savagery. And year after year, as her kisses went from chaste to bold to passionate -- Satoru understood she had forged him. Yet, the weapon and the sword maker had shared a moment of human warmth and the Lady Ioshi had lived as a woman who loved and laughed. Satoru thrust the sword forward and leaped with inhuman force and landed on the other side of his encampment and then he pivoted, his blade slicing the air. He remembered their last duel -- she floated in the air as was her terrible nature and he met her stroke for stroke. And after cutting her, they fucked, their flesh meeting stroke for stroke. Satoru brought the sword up the center line, slicing from gut to throat. As he had laid with her and learned her secret through her blood, their past had caught up with them. Lovemaking had weakened them when the soldiers and feeders of the demon-beast Goru had struck. It had been brutal and ruthless and short. The Lady lay dying her last death and the man Satoru was lay shattered and dying. But in death, the Lady had given him her heart -- literally -- and a chance to live again. But as something else. He danced back, the blade crossing over itself at blinding speed. The Lady's legacy was now his alone. Part of its embodiment was in the blade he now held -- he had found it beneath the main training area after he fed on the last of the Lady's faithful. It was an odd blade to his eye -- long, with a broad base that tapered to a point. It was dual-edged with a thick guard, a long handle for a two handed grip and a pommel forged in a seven headed dragon with ten horns and ten crowns. It was lite and solid -- silver was melted into the blade, flanked by obsidian streaks. Though it lacked the elegance and of a katana, it was still a lovely weapon and more than suited to his task. He called it Reaper. II Satoru traveled during the day, when he was at his weakest, like the fiends he sought. He sat on a rickety cart pulled by two weary horses as they teetered on a narrow, rocky trail. He traveled with old man Mojiro, an old but good natured farmer with thinning gray hair and a dwindling gleam to his eye who made sake and has to great a taste for his product. Their other companion was Mojiro's granddaughter, Kamiko. She had seen no more than 20 springs, barely more than Satoru before his first death. She wore he hair boyishly short, and her kimono was short and loose allowing her womanly figure to be readily noticed. Satoru had encountered the family while traveling south -- he came across a band of 6 bandits as they accosted the pair. Mojiro stood his ground valiantly but was too drunk to be of much threat and Kamiko -- though possessing some knowledge, evidenced by the bandit with the bloodied nose at her feet -- was overpowered by a fat brigand. He had pinned her arms behind her back while his companion had slipped a hand into her kimono and roughly pawed her breast while the others laughed. Despite the sun, Satoru moved with inhuman swiftness, his tanto blade drawn while his sword was strapped to his back. The brigand pawing Kamiko fell back when Satoru slashed him behind the knee. As the brigand fell, Satoru switched his grip on the blade during a downward stroke and stabbed the would-be rapist in the throat. The fat one loosened his grip on the girl ever slightly, but Satoru had already cut him across the face, splitting the fat man's smile from ear to ear, severing the facial artery. His knees buckled, and he died, showering the screaming girl's hair and shoulders with a crimson rain. One of the other brigands had raised a spear but Satoru knocked it aside and stabbed him in the gut. The bandit heaved for air as Satoru sliced upwards, cutting through muscle, intestine and even bone. When Satoru extracted his blade it was from the bandit's throat -- Satoru saw another two bandits rush him. One had a spear and the other, a katana. Satoru lifted the gutted brigand as a shield and tossed him easily at the oncoming brigand with the katana. They fell in heap, the dead man's innards spilling out and staining the path like crushed, gray snakes. Satoru pivoted to meet the spear man, sidestepping the thrust and bracing his back leg before grabbing the spear with his free hand. It had the effect of the spear man striking a wall -- his thrust was halted but momentum threw him into Satoru's embrace. Satoru's cold eyes were the last things he saw before his neck snapped. Satoru held the spear and leaped into the air, landing and impaling the spear through the gutted brigand and the swordsman pinned beneath him. In the time it took the final brigand facing Mojiro to turn and realize what transpired to his companions, they were dead and Satoru had picked up the fallen katana. The brigand assumed a fighting stance versus Satoru's lazy grip on the katana. "Run or fight," Satoru said. "You die." The brigand ran. Satoru's prophecy was fulfilled. @@@@@@@ They ate quietly around a boiling pot filled with a pungent broth and rice. Mojiro dipped his bread in his steaming bowl and ate greedily between gulps of sake. Kamiko poured some broth over her bowl of rice and intently watched Satoru as he stared at the fire. They were sheltered in a makeshift lodging Satoru had assembled in minutes. They were outside a village of some fifty families. Mojiro planned to peddle his wares the following day. Satoru heard the collective harmony of the villagers heartbeats echo upon the low frequencies of the night, even as he heard Kamiko heart flutter as her young body responded to his. "Big as you are," Mojiro belched. "You don't eat much." "I already fed," Satoru said quietly, remembering how the blood of the brigands was cooling as he emptied the bodies before disposing of them in the bush. "You ... fed?" Kamiko asked, intrigued by the term. She shivered when Satoru fixated her, his eyes peering deeply into hers. She felt her pussy moisten as her mind's eye filled with the image of him standing before her and driving his exalted cock into her willing mouth -- Kamiko relived the sight of him cutting down six men without the effort she needed to undo her kimono. She brought her thighs together against this speechless intrusion into her mind. Waking Blood Ch. 02 "Hah!" Mojiro exclaimed after swilling half his bottle of sake. "My little Kamiko fancies time with you more than with her old grandfather. Are you samurai, boy? You look like a samurai ..." "Once, I could have been." "What happened?" Kamiko asked, her eyes lingering on his thick shoulders and long black hair. She had never seen a man so raw. "Monsters." III "You're shivering," Satoru said, staring up at the moon. The fire had died down to embers and the woods were bathed in moonlight. "But you're not cold." "No," Kamiko, whispered staring at his broad back. His mysterious sword awaited there, waiting to be unsheathed. "Not cold." "Frightened," Satoru said, facing the young woman. Her head barely reached his shoulders. "He sleeps?" Kamiko looked over her shoulder. "Grandfather is loving his sake mistresses." She stepped closer to Satoru, immobile like a statue and she touched his arm. His skin radiated heat and yet her hand felt chilled. "Are you a real person?" "Real? I'm real. I was a person, once." Kamiko caressed his cheek and asked: "How?" "I fell in love. She died." "You're alone, then," Kamiko said, taking his hand in hers. "No," Satoru said, tapping his chest. "She's here. You're here." Kamiko looked into Satoru's deep, black eyes and they seemed to swirl with images that she had dreamt over the years of her short life. "Will you kill me?" she asked, her voice as quiet as the breeze. "No," Satoru hissed before pushing her head to the side and pressing his lips to the warm skin f her neck. He traced the crease where her neck met her shoulders up to her ear -- he nibbled on her earlobe and she giggled as her nipples grew hard and strained against the fabric of her kimono. Satoru inhaled the salty musk of her flesh as he heard the harsh rush of her blood right beneath the surface of her skin. "Touch me ... touch me," Kamiko pleaded as his lips brushed hers and her mind fired with rapturous flowers that rooted themselves in her pussy. She moaned when he tore the front of her kimono, exposing her pale breasts to the enchanting moonlight. Satoru fell to his knees and cupped her tits in his large hands -- he kneaded her firm mounds with his rugged fingers and kissed her stiff nipples. Kamiko's knees buckled as she felt his shocking tongue move around her flesh, igniting her blood. Her heartbeat accelerated as Satoru moved from one nipple to the next, his tongue moving like a typhoon. Chills danced across her limbs when his cool, steel like teeth grazed her hyper-sensitized nipples and she grabbed fistfuls of his long hair, relishing the attentions this odd warrior lavished upon her. Satoru had pushed Kamiko to the soft ground and had completely undone her kimono, fully exposing her to the moonlight. She sighed as she caught a glimpse of her reflection in his vicious eyes -- eyes filled with an alternate life she secretly coveted. Satoru surveyed the lush landscape of her young beauty -- her warmth was an opiate that had subjugated him since he first encountered her and her old grandfather on the trail, and it was why he had struck their attackers with such ferocity. Satoru kneeled before her and unslung his sword and slipped the katana he had collected from one of the brigands from his sash and he undressed. To Kamiko, Satoru appeared like a pale, translucent apparition, shimmering in the moonlight. His cock was long and thick, like a shard of alabaster. Her tits were larger than her kimono alluded to -- her waist was slim and her hips womanly despite her meager age of twenty. The space between her legs was crowned by a satiny triangle of fine hair. His shoulders were broad and his arms and chest were thickly muscled. His belly was rippled and his thighs were like tree trunks and his cock was a thick root, sticking forward from his dark pubic hair. As she saw his erection, Kamiko remembered the waking dream she had of his possession of her trembling mouth. Satoru seemed to respond to her thoughts and crept through the grass till his cock was only a few inches from her mouth. She focused on his member and moved towards it, tentatively kissing the tip. It was cool against her lips, though she felt it soak up her heat before reflecting it back at her. Taken aback, she looked up at him, meeting his eyes and seeing a glimmer of the torn beast within him while he caressed her hair. When Satoru closed his eyes, Kamiko was emboldened and she wrapped a slight hand around his hard flesh and she kissed his cock again. He moaned and his flesh drew her warmth before it ignited her pussy -- she felt some similar feelings with other young men in the past, but never so intently. Her kiss covered the entire length of Satoru's shaft, her saliva coating it so it almost seemed to glistened in the moonlight. Satoru threw his head back as Kamiko ran her tongue across each side of his cock and he almost howled as her saliva blanketed his shaft. She had a voracious appetite for his member -- her bobbing head made his balls slap against her pointy and her tongue caressed his shaft in wet courtship display. As she bobbed up and down his erection, her hand trailed behind her mouth and she pulled from the the man-beast. The bliss Satoru felt sparked his dark heart and a desire for blood conflicted with the sweetness of sex -- it became manifest when Satoru grabbed Kamiko's head and powerfully rammed his cock to the back of her throat. She gagged, tears swelling in her eyes and flowing down her cheeks and still she tried to accommodate him as he fucked her mouth, like her fantasy had foretold. His cock was slipping in and out of her mouth and Kamiko was salivating each time it seemed to slide deeper down her throat till Satoru froze and his body shivered. She felt his member swell and he released a food of come deep into her gullet -- she knew that it came from something that was no longer a man the way she understood men but she swallowed his seed as it coated her esophagus. He pulled out of her mouth, globs of his steaming come dribbling from her lovely lips and down her dainty chin. White droplets of come hung onto his cock in defiance of his human nature. His member was still as stiff as stone. "I'm not sorry," Satoru said as he leaned down and kissed her on the mouth. Kamiko struggled to swallow the gift he'd given her and devoured his kiss. She felt an odd jolt of energy rush through her and her pussy moistened at his tender touch. "Neither am I," Kamiko answered. "I want more." She slid her kimono off and laid back onto the ground and spread her thighs. Satoru stroked his cock and watched intently as the young woman touched her most intimate source. He throbbed at the sight of her fingers exploring the pink lips of her pussy and he almost drooled when he saw the faint film of the hymen covering the entrance to her cave. Feeling his eyes on her skin, Kamiko felt a rush of desire race through her limbs and the reserve taught to her by the women of her family disintegrated and she started to rub herself. Her fingers parted and entrapped the engorged folds of her pussy and she pulled and tugged as her inflamed flesh -- Satoru had moved between her thighs and was stroking the tip of his cock against her pussy and her moistness flowed, staining the ground and covering his glans. She watched him intently, awaiting him to claim what she was offering, but instead Satoru stretched out onto his stomach, moved her hand away and put his lips upon her little nub. Kamiko had been admiring how his massive shoulders flexed when her breath caught in her throat the moment his lips pinched her clit -- she had never imagined anyone would pay attention to it beyond her self-explorations. The pressure his tongue applied caused a wave of uncommon heat to spread from her groin and spread across her limbs -- when it reached her head, sweat beaded at her hairline and she closed her eyes. Bursts of light erupted behind her eyelids -- sometimes they coalesced into echoes of Satoru caressing her, sometimes the were amorphous blobs that consumed each other. For Satoru, the taste of Kamiko's pussy was like tasting a hint of the humanity he had forsaken for the love of the Lady Ioshi. When they had been together that one time, she had resonated with a regained humanity. But Kamiko a true woman and her smell and juices overpowered his heightened senses and he attacked her pussy with a fervent purpose. Kamiko noticed her ardor and her fingers slipped into his thick black hair and pulled him more deeply to her pussy -- his tongue bounced between her pussy lips as he lapped. Kamiko felt her body be torn by blissful madness as each point of contact between his tongue and her pussy ignited renewed tides of sexual energy. "Yes! Yes!" Kamiko screamed as she felt her first orgasm given to her by another. The muscles of her pussy quivered, in absentia Satoru's cock. "Ohhh!" Kamiko exclaimed as Satoru slid up her body, his flesh like roaming flame. His face was close to hers and he kissed her, his tongue a snake seeking its mate in her mouth. She trembled under his weight as his groin met hers and they writhed, each seeking position. "Hunger," Satoru whispered in Kamiko's ear. When she saw his eyes, his pupils had grown cover it all and her heart skipped a beat. "I'll give you my blood," she whispered. Fear and exhilaration peppered her words. "I want ..." Satoru started but Kamiko silenced him with a kiss. She took his burning cock in her slight hand and put the tip against the thin veil of her hymen. Satoru grunted as she locked her feet behind his back and urged him into her -- he moved gently as her skin split to accommodate his girth and he breathed in the coppery smell of the few drops of blood Kamiko sacrificed as she did her virginity. She felt him fill her, the soft skin of his cock melding with the wanton walls of her pussy -- despite the tears his initial thrust pulled from her, the sheer sexual bliss she felt drowned out any agony. Satoru was fucking her and she was a queen of the night, if only for the time she bedded. As they slowly fucked, Satoru's empathy expanded and embraced the young woman's hopes and fears and she shared his. Which each thrust, he brought to the surface the little moments of happiness she had ever felt -- witnessing a butterfly fly into the sky after landing on her hand; the first kiss she had when she was twelve under a warm summer; hearing her grandfather laugh for the first time after years of mourning her parents' death; watching Satoru move like a deadly wraith. What she felt from him was far less pleasant -- a young boy losing his family to monsters; a harsh upbringing where his formative years were painted scarlet with blood; falling in love with his monstrous mistress and finally loving her as a woman; their mutual death at his brother's hand and his blood soaked rebirth. Those shared emotions left them battered as their pace had quickened and she grabbed his ass while his muscles flexed, driving cock deep into her slurping pussy. They voices were reduced to a litany of grunts and moans as the shared empathy regressed and a more primal nature asserted itself. Satoru's balls bounced against her ass while Kamiko grabbed her knees and pulled her legs to her shoulders so he could sink as deeply into her as he could. After a few moments, Kamiko gasped and she bit down on the stone-like muscles of his neck -- her pussy quivered and her body shock and she came for a second time. Satoru, however, went unsatiated and his bestial nature, driven by the dark half of his heart, gave Kamiko no respite. He flipped her roughly onto her stomach and entered her with a single thrust from behind. She moaned as he grabbed her round hips and raised her ass and his rigid cock drove in and out of her inflamed pussy. The walls of her cunt gave her intermittent burst of bliss and pain caused by the soreness his overreaching desire. Satoru threw his head back as his flesh smacked against hers and his empathy engrossed them both -- but it steeped in the ash of his dark half. The darkness spread in Kamiko's mind as she began to gyrate her hips in harmony to his thrusts. In her mind's eye she saw gnashing teeth colored crimson with blood and talons slicing through warm organs -- but the most unbearable was the empty hole in the corrupt soul driving the unyielding thirst. Satoru's pace was slowing and the nightmares they shared dissipated. In her, he felt like a man again. She looked over her shoulder and saw his eyes were closed and admired the ripple of his abdomen till her moans overcame her and she felt the blindness of orgasm engross her. She was not alone this time -- Satoru let out a groan and delivered heaving thrusts. He felt his cock bulge and pulsate until he moaned and an ebbing flow of come was unleashed deep into her pussy. For a short moment, Satoru relived he happiness he'd shared only a few weeks earlier with a very human Lady Ioshi -- but it was Kamiko's passion that allowed him to feel human this night. Once his body ceased shaking, Satoru reluctantly pulled himself from Kamiko's warm embrace and watched as she moved onto her back and looked up at him. She beamed in the moonlight, filled with his almost boiling seed in her womb. "Thank you," he whispered and leaned down to kiss her. "Sleep," she whispered back, and he rested his head on her breast and slept the sleep of a man. IV Somnolence was a fleeting condition for Satoru. Kamiko realized this when she saw him holding the katana he had collected from the brigands. It was unsheathed while his other sword was slung across his back and his tanto knife was tucked into his sash and he was sniffing at the air. She looked over her shoulder and saw the ground far removed. "For now, the trees are safer than the ground," Satoru whispered. He had heard a strange rustling beneath the earth where he laid his wary head, and the night filled with the subtle stench of feeders. Kamiko clung to the branches when the first screams were heard from deep within a nearby village. Satoru muscles bulged and he flung himself through the trees and he disappeared into the shadows while the screams echoed in the distance. Fueled by the blood he had collected from the fallen brigands and harnessed by the night, Satoru bounced from thin branch to thin branch with a swiftness and a lightness of form that belayed his muscular frame -- the Lady Ioshi would have been proud. His small caravan had not entered the village as Mojiro was too drunk to negotiate a place to rest though he was known there. And now the night twanged with the the pluck of bowstrings as the villagers and local ronin unleashed a flurry of arrows. Satoru's eyes crackled with the screams of life his new senses perceived. From a distance, he could see the pulsating forms of blood drawn by beating hearts against a mute canvass of arteries. He saw cloud like shadows sometimes envelope the scarlet tapestries and he knew they were now food for Goru. Even as he came falling from the trees on the outskirts of the village, Satoru saw a woman disappear into the ground as though a mouth had opened to swallow her. To his left and right, men and women were running amok, only to dissolve into shadows with a startled gasp. Through his bare feet, he perceived a staccato rumble he could follow -- he zigged and zagged between fleeing villagers blind to the fact he Satoru moved among them with a drawn katana. Shadows moved with blurred flight as he heard the ground explode in the distance and the night filled with snarls and growls. Satoru came to a halt and he stood before two ronin -- masterless samurai -- armed with two swords a piece and their bows drawn. They were stoic and grim, but their blood screamed in fear and anger as their shadows danced across the ground beneath the crackling fires of the village dwellings. They had their arrows sighted on him -- Satoru smiled as the ground rumbled and he shoved his arm like a spear through the earth. He yanked roughly and extracted a wriggling, skeletal form covered in gray leathery skin. Its hair was stringy and its eyes were sunken -- the lips were absent and the teeth were long, pointy, and razor sharp. Its genitals hung in a ruined heap. The two ronin glared at Satoru and then unleashed their arrows. One to the head and one to the heart. It stopped wriggling and Satoru dropped it. The ronin lowered their bows and swallowed even as the dead thing raised its impaled head and snuck its blackened tongue between its pointed teeth and tasted the air. The ronin, though brave and strong, stepped back as the thing began to convulse and move towards them. Before it came within arm's reach of the, Satoru drew a perfect downward arc and separated its head from its shoulder -- the sound was like torn rice parchment. While fixating them, Satoru placed his knee between the decrepit shoulder blades of the beheaded creature and reached through its skin and cracking bone and extracted the heart. It turned to ash and fell away from his fingers. "This," Satoru said, "is a feeder. It prowls from the nest and gorges on blood for its master. It's strong and fast -- but take the head and the heart away and it falls. But anything less and it will kill you." He picked up the head and tossed at their feet. "Gorged with blood, they are slow. Cut them and they will bleed all they've collected. That's why there is usually a guardian." At the word guardian, the night froze as a hiss crept from the shadows and chilled the ronin's blood despite their training. "Tell the others," Satoru whispered. The two ronin nodded and headed towards the torching village "Head and heart," a voice cold like a winter snap sneaked from the darkness. "A good way to kill." White fangs glinted in the firelight and the guardian stepped out from the shadows. She stood as tall as Satoru -- her shoulders and waist were slight yet her presence was as cold and sharp as the katana he held. She wore a torn kimono, exposing her meager breasts and streams of blood trailed from her lips, down her chin and to the tips of her nipples. Her ragged hair was caked in dried blood. "I was well trained," Satoru growled as he raised his katana in a defensive posture. He saw she held a bo -- a fighting staff -- in one hand and the eviscerated remains of its former owner in the other. "We'll see what you're made of soon enough," the vampire said and she pivoted in a blur -- Satoru braced his back leg into the ground while she struck him with the long edge of the bo. The blade held fast against the inhuman force of the blow but it shook Satoru to the core of his bones. The vampire smiled at the challenge he might represent. Satoru snarled. Then the flurry of blows rained upon him, but Satoru met every blow with a counter or a parry or a block. She struck his temple, tearing skin and drawing blood; he took the momentum of the blow, spun and slashed her inner thigh. She swept at his feet with the extended end of her bo; he leaped and slashed downward at her head. She collapsed his knee as he landed; he fell forward and cut a gash across her back. Breathing hard, Satoru charged the vampire -- with the otherworldly ease he once saw the Lady Ioshi wield, the vampire floated over him in a graceful flip and landed behind him, smashing her foot behind his knee and locking her bo against his throat. She braced the staff in the crook of her elbow and gripped her opposite arm, creating a triangle that tightened like a vice against the steely muscles of his neck. "What are you?" she murmured as she licked his ear. Her cold nipples pressed into his back and she hissed. The ground burst forth and two feeders appeared, skeletal, gray and thirsty. They did not care what he was. Satoru grunted as they fell upon him -- one tore at his armpit and the other gnashed at his groin. He howled as his blood flowed into the waiting mouths of the feeders. Waking Blood Ch. 02 But their feast lasted only few seconds as their gullets constricted and they fell away from Satoru, regurgitating what they had taken. The vampire yanked hard on his neck, hoping to snap it when Satoru dropped his katana and heaved his massive shoulders and threw his head back. The bo snapped and he connected with her face, crushing her nose and the front part of her jaw. She staggered backwards, trying to get away from him but Satoru moved with elemental fluidity, rolling towards her and bringing his knees to his chest; he tumbled backwards and sprang, uncoiling like a pressed skein of steel and trapped her head between his calves. Satoru executed the opposite motion and pulled the vampire forward, flipping her head over heels and she crashed to the ground with bone crushing force. Satoru landed on top of her, pinning her shoulders with his knees. She spat up putrid ichor -- Satoru touched his fingers to her mangled lips and brought the ichor to his mouth. When it touched his tongue, it was like a jolt of fire rippled through his body. Satoru unleashed a maniacal laugh and drew his tanto knife -- knowing what was coming she laughed as well. Satoru sprawled his body over hers and his cock, now erect under the stimulation of such violence, found her cunt and she accepted him willingly. His thrusts were brutal and her moans elegiac as he ran the blade across her throat -- the ichor in her veins gushed, painting Satoru's face with its putrid stench; he embraced it and put his lips to her wound and drank, savoring the experiences of her dark rebirth and her initiation to blood: she took the lives of her most beloved. As he approached his final thrust and drank her last drop, she quietly sighed in relief as his hand crept to her sternum and her skin tore easily and her muscles gave way as he extricated her dark heart. Her head came off with no resistance. Satoru stood over her body, flames dancing as the village blazed an unholy inferno. On the edge of the darkness, Satoru felt the eyes of one of the ronin he met earlier upon him. "Don't worry," Satoru said. "I'm not. You're not one of ... them." "No shit," Satoru commented. "Come, there's more killing to be had." @@@@@@@ Sunrise. Fewer fell in the village than expected -- the ronin who had gathered there were now better prepared to deal with feeders. Satoru was rapt on vampire blood and sought Kamiko. Instead, he found Mojiro's dismembered body and a note inviting him to seek out Goru's nest. Satoru voiced how both his human and dark heart screamed for vengeance. He forsook the katana that had served him well against the servants and he now prepared for their master -- he unsheathed Reaper. *Kaiju, Blood and Rebirth I It had once been common to see a single rider trekking the paths that led the from the various villages to the warlord's compound. But the new warlord instilled fear in the villagers so none walked the paths any longer. Except tonight. A single figure advanced with grim determination. His footfalls left not impressions as his weight did not disturb the surface of the graveled path. He wore a wide straw hat -- his broad shoulders and muscled chest were covered in a black hitatare. The wide, flowing pants floated around his legs as he skimmed the ground. In his belt was a tanto blade with a woven red handle and slung across his back was the foreign sword he called Reaper. Once upon a time, his name was Mizaki Satoru. Now, he was simply Satoru. Tonight, he was prepared to bring the full wrath of his name against those who wronged him, twice taking from him the ones he loved the most. The ronin he had encountered in a far away village had moved as many families as they could away from the evil haunting the warlord's compound. Those ronin who understood his mission offered their swords and their bows to his cause. To this, Satoru had answered: "Protect the living. I will avenge the dead." II The tree lined path Satoru followed opened onto a field where the warlord's compound rose like a defiant curse against a pristine night. Torches flickered, equally distanced along the walls surrounding the edifices. This told him familiars were housed within the compound since vampires were at home in the darkness. From a distance, the walls seemed made of an alabaster compound unnatural to these lands. The walls were held by scaffolds made of bone. Satoru halted a few paces before the main gate of the compound. He looked at the high, wooden door surrounded by arches of bone pushed it -- it swung open with unnerving east. He unsheathed his blade and entered the compound. The inner court reeked of foul magics that heightened the scent of blood that filled the night air. Trenches were dug in the ground and scarlet rivers flowed freely, drawing an eerie calligraphy. He sniffed the air and it swirled with the scent of cruelty, fear, and hatred. Satoru's mouth watered. Satoru heard soft footfalls as quiet as falling leaves in the dirt to his left. He raised his blade and moved in their direction. Before he could be seen, he leaped upwards and landed like a feather on a the ledge of the vestibule that separated the first inner court from the second. Three familiars suited as guards were guiding a bloated feeder towards a gate into the second court. Satoru realized that a beast master like Goru must already know he was there. When he fed and fucked upon the guardian vampire a few days ago, he had divined Goru's location. He smiled and decided that if Goru knew he was here, he might as well have some fun. "Oi!" Satoru yelled as he landed heavily from the ledge. He rushed forward and leaped, rippling muscles launching him into the air. He clipped the first familiar in the face with a flying knee, snapping the head back past its natural limit. The guard hit the ground with a thud while Satoru rolled upon landing and made his way to his feet while the other guards turned to face him. The one closest to him on his right charged him with his sword and Satoru side stepped the charge, crouched and slashed at the guard's leg. The guard screamed and fell as his leg was severed in a misty cloud of blood. He caught the guard and ended him with a wrench of the neck. The other guard was a more seasoned warrior, not launching into and attack but measuring his foe. The guard held his blade over his head in a classic form -- their swords clashed a few times yet the guard was soon overwhelmed by Satoru's speed and power. The guard's eyes were wide with awe as his head flew up into the air on a crimson fountain before hitting the ground, bearing witness to the blood gushing from the clean cut Satoru had made. Satoru took the time to empty the familiars of their blood before turning towards the stumbling feeder. It had only taken a few steps while Satoru had slaughtered the guards. "Nice entrance," a familiar voice echoed. Satoru looked up and two vampires in black garb landed silently in front and behind him. Shingen was standing next to the blood filled feeder, tapping its grayish head. "But this belongs to the Master Goru." Satoru froze -- his undead brother was only a few paces from him when the other vampires attacked. Despite his training and his feeding on the guards, he could not match the speed and drive of these powerful vampires; they countered his every blow and Satoru fell when the hilt of a katana cracked the base of his skull, knocking off his straw hat and when a blinding palm blow found his chin. He failed under the furious crackle of inhuman blows. It was enough to overwhelm even his darkly dual nature. "More than human, this one," Shingen muttered as he spat on Satoru. "But not by much." Satoru's eyes went dark. III Awakenings, Satoru was quickly discovering, were never pleasant when your were not quite human or quite dead. His eyes snapped open and his mind played back with fierce clarity his ongoing failure at avenging his Lady Ioshi. What his eyes registered, however, was beyond anything the shared experiences he had absorbed from the various familiars and vampires he'd fed upon could have prepared him for. He was on his knees in the middle of what appeared to be a garden. Rows of red and purple bushes radiated from where he kneeled in concentric patterns -- their roots bathed in frothy emulsion of coppery smelling blood. The branches were adorned with gore stricken skulls, filaments of moist, dripping meat dangling from the bone moved lazily in the cold wind. Inter spaced between the bushes were statues of permutations of men and women in various stages of sex -- many of the bodies were mutilated or grotesquely deformed. As Satoru eyes focused, he could see the clean stitch marks where the bodies had been dismembered and reassembled. He heard the muted heartbeats beneath their ravaged flesh and heard in his mind their incessant screams. He understood that to vampires, the screams were like a soothing song. Satoru tried not to enjoy them. He looked up and the top of wherever he was -- chains dangled in nonchalant arches lost in the darkness of what Satoru understood to be a black sky. Many of the chains hung to the ground, hook like appendages scraped the odd earth Satoru was kneeling on. Before him, he saw Shingen and a crew of other vampires gripping a series of looping chains connected to interlocking pulleys. They started to heave, their combined, massive strength barely enough the get the chains rolling -- the pulleys squealed and some other vampires climbed the chains with animalistic agility while carrying bodies. Satoru clenched his jaw when he saw those undead eviscerate their burden and allow the cold blood to run down the chains till it reached the pulleys and lubricated them. Their work simplified, the crew's efforts lifted a large, amorphous figure from behind a buttress made of thick bones the likes Satoru had never seem. Once he was high enough, the crew heaved the mass forward where its many overlapping layers of oily flesh glistened under the flickering light of the green and red torches that illuminated the garden. They delicately deposited the pulsating heap against the buttress of bone and Satoru made out a head at its top. It had and elongated skull with long, pointy ears that nearly reached the top of its head. Its eyes were wide and black like an abyss. The mouth was a widening crease full of an innumerable, razor sharp teeth. Four bloated feeders, moving with a speed defying their girth, scurried up the sides of the creature till its mouth where they slit their stomachs. Blood erupted from their guts with a disgusting belch and filled the creature's awaiting maw and streamed down its gut. Other vampires ran to the pooling blood and lapped at it like mangy dogs. By this time, Satoru realized his arms were pinned at the elbows to a thick bar that pressed against his back. Old chains held his arms in place and screws pierced his forearms, adding to the immobility. Only now, after the shock of awakening, did he feel the pain in his back. Satoru took a deep breath and sprang upwards from his knees and landed on his feet. His dark heart screamed and his vampire and human halves thirst for blood and vengeance. "Goru," Satoru hissed as his mind filled with conflicting images he absorbed from his varying feedings. "You've ... expanded." The thing called Goru laughed and limbs emerged from under the flabby fold of his flesh. The laugh was like rusty iron bending and snapping and his arms were thick and muscular, at odds with his misshapen body. "Well said, little thing," Goru grunted. His weight shifted and he leaned forward to better examine this new guest. He sniffed the above Satoru. "Ioshi was my favorite plaything -- Shingen says you were hers. That makes you mine." Satoru stared at the monstrous Goru with dark eyes cold enough to make Goru's entourage recoil. Goru snorted and rested against the bony buttress holding him up. "I'm nobody's plaything," Satoru spat under muted breath. Goru scratched his many chins, scooping the blood that dribbled and sucked his fingers dry. "Of course not. Ioshi made you a weapon -- when she gave you her heart." "Love." "What?" Goru asked with renewed interest. "She gave me love," Satoru said. Though his voice was quiet, it resounded across Goru's garden. "That gave me strength -- thirst." Goru sniffed the air. "How did she do it? My little Shingen said you were more than human." "Maybe you'll have the chance to see," Satoru sneered. "I hear you fucked a girl before my feeders went looking for a snack," Goru said as he snapped his fingers. "Would you like to fuck her again?" IV Satoru scowled as he saw a figure crawl over Goru's shoulder and scurry down his hairless chest. It was not a feeder -- but the limbs were of and unwieldy length and bent at odd angles, allowing it to move more like a reptile or insect. Its skin was pale and the mouth opened overly wide, showing long, yellowish teeth and a stretching, darting tongue. But the eyes made Satoru's jaw set and his eyes twitch. We he met them, he saw the innocence he had encountered on the road. An innocence that screamed behind the corruption of her body, though her hair and chest were untouched. Kamiko. "What did you do to her?" Satoru demanded as he started to struggle against his bindings. "This?" Goru said, pointing at the Kamiko abomination. "Surprising what a little blood can do." "You gave her yours ... She was innocent!" "Was she?" Goru pondered. "From her smell, that was true till you took her." "That was ..." Satoru stammered. "What? Love?" Goru chuckled. "Your 'love' opened the way. I merely pushed her through. Now, I wonder -- what are you going to do about it?" The Kamiko of corrupted flesh now faced Satoru, her long greasy tongue bathing his cheeks with it stinking spit. Satoru felt his skin crawl -- not only from the disgust of what has happened to Kamiko, but also from what he viewed as his ongoing failures. He failed to save Ioshi; she sacrificed herself for him. He failed Kamiko; he took her virginity and she now sacrificed her innocence. He failed in killing Shingen before he was taken by Goru's host; Shingen was now part of this obscene show. This was enough to ignite Lady Ioshi's final gift to him -- the dark demon heart that rested next to his warm one engulfed its living counterpart. Satoru was thirsty. He hissed with a ferocity that even made Goru move away -- Satoru jumped and shot his legs forward, smashing his heels into Kamiko's deformed face and sending her flying. At the same time he heaved his powerful arms and the bar and chains binding him snapped while the screws holding his arms tore from his flesh, spraying his blood onto the ground and the faces of the vampires witnessing his torture. They hissed as their skin boiled under Satoru's blood. Despite his broken arms, Satoru threw himself onto the closest vampire -- a member of the crew who moved Goru into the garden. The vampire tried to fight Satoru off but he he pinned the vampire to the ground to his knees and tore the vampire's throat out. As the ichor in its vessels showered Satoru, he drank greedily as the ichor prompted his body to regenerate his wounds. Goru raised an amused eyebrow at the speed Satoru regenerated. Even a vampire required a few minutes to heal such wounds. Even as Satoru turned, Kamiko was on him, her claws tearing the black fabric of his hitatare and drawing blood -- it did not burn her like it did the vampire. Satoru was able to twist his body and strike her chin with an upward blow from his elbow with a strength even a vampire would have cause to fear. Her teeth smashed together and some broke and still red blood dripped for her mouth. But she had wrapped her legs around Satoru's hips and she was not letting go. Those legs -- an her arms -- morphed into tentacles and encircled his waist, legs, and neck. Satoru braced his forearm against her throat to keep her angry, snapping maw from reaching his neck. Satoru sensed eyes on him. He also felt Kamiko's vicious embrace. As much as his human self has responded to Kamiko virginity, so did Satoru's dark half respond to her corrupt flesh. His cock sprang with unheard vigor as her monstrous form pressed against his. He tensed his muscles as Kamiko tightened her coiled limbs around his body. As they struggled, Satoru remembered when he made love to the Lady and when he made love to Kamiko and the effects it had -- he threw himself backwards and landed on his back. At the same time, he hooked his right arm behind Kamiko's neck and yanked her head forwards, pinning it against his. While she struggled, he managed to undo his pants and released his member with his left. His erection was like a stone pillar and its head grazed the entrance to her pussy. The Kamiko beast froze under this unexpected assault. Satoru thrust upwards and he entered her with little resistance -- he invaded her corrupted flesh and she simultaneously howled and moaned with different voices. He felt her grasp slacken and he released her neck and fought kiss her ruined lips. Kamiko head butted him and clamped her inhuman jaw on his shoulder. Satoru grunted but he continued to fuck her, his cock moving in an out of her pussy with fury as her juices dripped across his thighs. Goru laughed at the spectacle while Shingen watched intently. He appreciated the savagery the oddling was demonstrating -- a will to survive and a thirst for violence that rivaled his own. But, there was a scent of guilt upon him that Shingen found disconcerting. There was also something else -- something ... familiar. Satoru managed to roll Kamiko onto her back without slipping out of her. Despite his blood loss and struggle, he stayed hard and the heat he generated as pleasure struggled against the pain she was inflicting as she gnashed at his bloodied shoulder radiated through Goru's garden, forcing the undead back and even making some sweat blood. Satoru looked down at the young woman he had made loved to only a few days before the madness caught up with him -- he managed to slide his arms between their entwined bodies and he forced them up his chest, knocking her head back, causing her to tear flesh and muscle from his shoulder blade. He rained blood onto her neck and chest and changed his pace to a gentle rocking of his hips as her tentacle legs shook and their grip wavered. He fought to remain conscious and took a nipple in his mouth and circled it with mounting pressure. Kamiko's moan of pleasure was very human -- Satoru released her nipple and kissed her. This time, her snake like tongue sought his and their saliva coated appendages danced. He continued to fuck her at a steady pace and he looked into her eyes and saw the Kamiko he had known. He pushed her tentacle arms aside and laid them upon the ground -- with every thrust of his hips, he penetrated Kamiko more deeply and her limbs shrank to a more human decree. Satoru flipped onto his back and Kamiko straddled him -- her face was slowly regaining its humanity. She rode Satoru's erection and her flesh melted away, revealing her more living attributes. For Satoru, he understood he was at the edge of consciousness as his shoulder wound wept. He closed his eyes and forced his hips to meet her swaying motions and he felt moist bits of flesh splatter his cheek -- opening his eyes, he was struck by the sight of her beautiful, natural smile returning. Swathes of skin fell from her tentacled arms and legs and her elegant limbs reemerged. Her beautiful breasts were heaving as she moaned and climax approached. Satoru felt his own orgasm creep up -- Kamiko laid herself o upon his chest and the blood she had shed as she regained her humanity and the blood from his shoulder wound mingled. It made his dark heart scream and he matched it and came in her tight pussy for the second time, pulling her with him into orgasm. As bliss overcame them, Satoru sensed the abyss fighting to regain control of the body it had claimed. From his mind's eye, infused with the darkness of Lady Ioshi's gift, he dove into the abyss. Waking Blood Ch. 02 The darkness of the abyss was cold and unrelenting. Satoru stood within it like a sentinel, his human and demon psyches united and burning like the flaming core. "What are you?" Goru's voice resonated in the darkness, rippling through Satoru's inner being. Satoru snarled. "A force you have never met. I am Satoru. Now ...Get the fuck out of here!" The abyss was awash with light and Satoru retreated back into his body. His return coincided with the culmination of their combined orgasm. Kamiko drenched Satoru's throbbing and spurting cock with her juices while he filled her with thick throngs of his come -- his eyes snapped open and he saw Kamiko once again as the young, beautiful young woman she was. He was exhausted, however, despite his previous feeding, and his shoulder wound still bled. Kamiko fell upon his chest, exhausted and crying -- Satoru slid her gently off and to his side and he forced himself to stand. Satoru glared at Goru, his mouth curled into a ferocious rictus despite his wobbly knees. "Well, look at that," Satoru grunted. "I'm not dead yet." Goru looked down at Satoru, a disgusted sneer twisting his already horrible features. "Shingen," Goru, said, his voice like thunder. "Bring me your brother's head." V Shingen, dressed in a dark tunic with leather ribbons around his arms, stared at his master in disbelief. Before his fall and rise as a vampire, Shingen had sought to protect his brother from the feeders who had devastated the shogunate compound where he served the chief executioner of the Shogun. But the feeders had overwhelmed Shingen's company and they had all been fed upon and some turned, like Shingen himself. "Satoru?" Shingen finally asked behind a sneer in his brother's direction. Goru gurgled a hideous laugh as a newly arrived feeder climbed over his back an slit it belly open, pouring warm blood down the demon lord's throat. "Oh, this is precious," the demon lord said. "A family reunion! You can't say I never take care of you, Shingen. You get a second chance to finalize your turning. Kill the one you care for the most." Satoru looked over at Kamiko -- she had rolled into a fetal position and sobbed quietly. He then turned to face his brother as Shingen jumped from his perch next to Goru and landed a few paces ahead of him. Satoru gulped as Shingen examined him. "It is you," Shingen declared, his voice malevolent. "I should have recognized at the whore's encampment. I would have made sure you'd died quickly. I might even have blessed you by feeding on you." Shingen licked his fangs and said, "Now, it'll have to be slow." Satoru sighed -- he noticed Shingen held a katana, but also had the foreign blade Reaper slung across his back. Satoru undid the upper part of his torn hitatare and tossed it to the ground. His thickly muscled chest, shoulders and arms glistened with blood and sweat. Blood still seeped from the puncture wounds Kamiko had left on his shoulder. "Hello, brother," Satoru said, weary and wary of the coming confrontation. He was dizzy from the blood loss. "I'd like t have my sword back." "Of course ... wait, did you say you wanted it in your back?" Shingen mocked just before he burst towards Satoru with blinding speed. Satoru had expected the maneuver, having witnessed Shingen execute it before -- using his dizziness as a tool, Satoru let his body fall forward into a roll just as Shingen was upon him. Satoru's timing managed to be perfect and he struck Shingen in the shins. Shingen had no choice but to lunge forward in a flip that carried him over Satoru -- just as Shingen was about to land on his feet, Satoru twisted and reached up, managing to grasp Reaper and yank it from Shingen's back. In a fluid motion, Satoru unsheathed Reaper and flipped it to a reverse grip, the point of the sliver and black blade aligned with his elbow while ending his motion crouched like a cat. "You are good," Shingen felicitated his brother. Satoru barely noticed Shingen's slight nod, but he heard the rustling behind him as two of the former samurai who had served the shogun dashed from their cloaked positions. Mustering what felt like the last of his strength, Satoru threw himself backwards and spun in mid air, his sword arm tracing a perfect arc in front of him and Reaper tasted vampire blood. Two heads flew upwards, carried aloft on crimson/ebony geysers of ichor erupting from their severed necks. Satoru landed on his back and the headless corpses of the samurais fell to their knees -- their bodies continued to erupt blood in a continuous crimson plume. Satoru was showered with the blood and he greedily opened his mouth. The taste of the blood was bitter sweet while his mind was savaged by memories of fear and death and vengeance. But these were not the experiences of the defeated vampires -- it was the screams of their victims. Satoru was standing now, his body mending and the whites of his eyes swirled with streams of blood. The corpses still flowed blood even after their supply should have been emptied. "You're wrong, Shingen," Satoru said as his eyes locked with his dead brother's. "I'm not good." Shingen snarled and his fangs grew -- he launched himself at Satoru. Satoru meet his brother and swords clashed. Each thrust was meet with a parry and every slash was blocked. Sparks flew as the blades clanged -- Satoru managed to glance at Goru and registered understanding on the demon lord's face. He knew what Reaper represented and he had already signaled his crew to hoist the chains that lifted his obscenely shapeless form. Satoru locked his blade with Shingen and said: "We're both failures, brother!" That comment enraged Shingen and he kneed Satoru in the gut and delivered a roundhouse kicked aimed at Satoru's head -- but the kick glanced off Satoru's shoulder. "Look at us, Shingen," Satoru shouted. "You were a Samurai! Do you remember what that word means?" Satoru demanded. Shingen halted his downward slash. "A samurai serves a master." A flat statement Satoru held the Reaper in a high guard. "A master. The Shogun Tanabe was your master. You died defending him -- defending me. That was an honorable death. Something I was proud of ..." Satoru's words resonated throughout the garden, immobilizing all those within range, even the mighty Goru was captivated. "I was the failure, Shingen," Satoru continued; Shingen had lowered his katana. "I wanted to avenge you, but I had no sword. I wanted to take my life, honorably, but I couldn't even lift the fucking sword. Lady Ioshi found me and raised me to be her revenge. Goru knows this -- but she fell in love and I failed her still." Shingen had let his katana fall to the ground "Shingen. I thought you were dead and I believed one us still had honor. But I found out you were ... you were a monster and then you killed me. I realized honor, for us, was a lie. Monsters have no honor." Shingen listened and felt odd stirrings deep within his core. "Are you a ronin?" Satoru asked. "Are you masterless?" "Goru," Shingen answered. "He is my master." "Is he worthy of even a dead samurai?" Shingen wept tears of blood. "No ..." VI The chains that dangled from invisible anchors located deep in the darkness of the alternate sky over Goru's garden rattled as the demon lord raged at Shingen's admission. "I MADE YOU!" Goru screamed. "You were a pathetic sac of meat and now you walk among the gods!" Satoru and Shingen ignored the demon lord's cries as they faced each. "If Reaper cuts you," Satoru said, "you will bleed all the blood you've spilt and consumed -- and be consumed in turn. In my hands, it will cut you." Shingen approached his brother, the katana now resting against his leg. Satoru lowered Reaper. "I know, little brother," Shingen said. "But I can't call you that anymore, can I?" Satoru shook his and took a step towards his brother. "Don't," Shingen warned. "We've both become more -- or less -- than we were. The blood bond we shared is diluted. I can never be your brother again. But help me be a samurai, one last time?" For Satoru and Shingen, it was as though time had stopped -- the word samurai hung between them and Satoru looked at what he called his foreign blade, Reaper, and he handed it hilt first to Shingen. In turn, Shingen handed him the katana; around them, the other vampires and assorted monster in the service of the demon lord Goru heeded their master's orders and assembled to destroy the brothers. Some were the deceased samurai that had served with Shingen under the Shogun. They watched as Shingen dropped to his knees and opened his tunic, exposing his pale, ribbed abdomen -- he placed the tip of the sword beneath his rib cage. Satoru had witnessed the ceremony dozens of times growing up, and he assumed the position to Shingen's right; he held the katana in a high guard above his head. Shingen stared out into the darkness and jabbed the Reaper in to his stomach. Shingen slashed from left to right -- ichor and bowels exploded from the wound with the force of a raging river and he screamed with the echo of the dozens who died at his hand. When Satoru heard his own voice come from Shingen's throat, his mind filled with memories of laughter as he played tag with his brother; he brother's reproachful lecture after he first tasted sake; his brother's smile when Satoru first respectively touched a sword. Satoru performed the kaishakunin; Shingen's head fell forward, a thread of flesh holding it and neck together. Satoru turned and faced Goru, hanging high in the air in his nest of chains and a horde of undead servants at his feet. Satoru smiled. Goru smiled back. "You should at least use the Reaper. You might actually have a minute chance." "I'm saving that for you, Goru," Satoru said. "At least with Shingen's katana, whatever I cut off will grow back. Then, I can cut it off again." "As you wish ..." "NO!" VII Thunder resonated with less force than that single command. Satoru swung around and crouched in a defensive posture while Goru roared with raucous rage. To Satoru's amazement, Kamiko was standing a few paces from him, covered in blood. But as he watched and smelled her, he was struck by the familiarity of her scent. "Ioshi?" he whispered. With blinding swiftness, Kamiko stood before him, and for the second occasion time seemed to stop for Satoru -- Reaper in her grip and though her body was whole, her face seemed translucent and Lady Ioshi's features merged with Kamiko's. "You once told me the woman you loved left a part of herself here," Kamiko said as she tapped Satoru's chest. Then she touched his cock and said, "Something of her passed into me when you came in me. I have her memories and her ... her hate." "Her love?" "There is love," Kamiko answered, hesitation in her voice. "But it's clouded. I don't know who's ..." Before Kamiko could continue, Satoru pressed his warm lips to hers and scooped her up into his arms and they kissed. As their tongues mingled, he tasted Kamiko and Lady Ioshi and the blood that painted Kamiko's body was absorbed through his skin. He felt intoxicated and powerful. Kamiko remembered the one night he loved Ioshi and the intensity of the memory was jarring. But the memories allowed Kamiko to channel the Lady Ioshi -- she felt as powerful as Satoru. Satoru chuckled and said: "Love can wait. This is a time and place for hate -- and blood!" On those words, Satoru grabbed Kamiko by the wrist, and he swung her around -- she instinctively brought Reaper up and she cut through two spiky furred demon beasts that acted as the vanguard to Goru's cohort. As their innards splattered the ground of Goru's garden, Satoru heard Kamiko giggle -- a sound much like the one Ioshi made. Now two vampires -- former samurai brother's to Shingen when he lived -- struck. Satoru twirled Kamiko and his katana met theirs in clash of sparks. Alive, they ad been seasoned warriors, and so were they during their undeath. But Satoru was possessed of the rage of the mad -- he ducked beneath a slash to his head and countered cutting the vampires legs at the knees. He then parried a thrust from the other vampire, shifted his guard and sliced upward, cutting the vampire in half from crotch to head.. The two halves feel to the ground in a flapping sound of ichor and guts. Satoru glanced at Kamiko and she had decapitated another attacker. And so it went -- Satoru and Kamiko, fueled by the sensations and memories of the late Lady Ioshi, stood back to back and advanced through Goru's cohort, their blades blocking and cutting like a steely whirlwind. Limbs and entrails and demon blood flew into the air and littered the ground. Where Satoru injured, Kamiko destroyed. When Satoru was splashed in monstrous ichor, his skin soaked it like a sponge and he grew more powerful -- with each demon or vampire Kamiko destroyed, her unison to the spark of Lady Ioshi Satoru deposited withing her grew. Goru considered his situation and blared: "Get me out of here, NOW!!" His crew hoisted the chains and the endless night of this hell filled the squeal of far off pulleys. Satoru saw what Goru was doing and he grabbed Kamiko by the waist -- his sword eviscerated a demon and he tossed Kamiko towards the chains. Her lithe form flew towards the metallic links while Satoru rushed the crew that handled Goru's chains. His sword met their talons and limbs and ichor stained the hellish earth. Kamiko seized a link of chain off Goru's shoulder and used Reaper to cut through the unearthly metal. Sparks flew and metal creaked and screamed as part of the assembly sustaining Goru's girth crumbled and crashed to the ground. Goru reached for the reaming chain but withdrew his hand when Kamiko slashed at his wrist. This made the other chains sway, knocking their operators to and fro -- like a weightless wraith, Kamiko leaped from chain to chain, cutting them almost simultaneously. Satoru looked up as Kamiko landed with the impact of a leaf in the wind -- Goru roared as the mount of flesh that was his body hung in the air and them came crashing down to the ground. For Satoru, all movement slowed as he gazed around him, watching the remnants of Goru's cohort who still had their existences and limbs scramble from beneath his increasing shadow. Satoru moved like the wind and centered himself under Goru -- he flipped his grip on his katana and jumped straight up. Timing his cut perfectly, Satoru slashed Goru's underbelly and slipped within the demon lord's body. When Goru finally hit the ground, it shook and rippled and tore under the weight of his impact. The rivers of blood irrigating the bushes of the hell's garden splashed over the gory skulls that were the ornaments fell to the ground, shattering to bony dust. From within Goru's body, snapping sounds could be heard as his bones broke beneath his crashing mass. Goru grunted and gurgled a fountain of blood when a long and slim, beautifully crafted piece of steel pierced the bone and flesh of his sternum. Satoru punched through Goru's chest in an eruption of black ichor and crimson blood. As he pulled himself free, Satoru savored the fluids that filled Goru's body. But Goru moved with inhuman speed and seized Satoru in his giant's grasp. Satoru felt his ribs snap under the pressure of Goru's grip, yet he severed the demon lord's hand at the wrist. Satoru launched himself forward as Goru swatted at him with his other hand -- Satoru slashed the demon lord's eyes -- they burst like putrid bubbles before Goru connected, sending Satoru sprawling to the ground. Kamiko, infused with the Lady Ioshi's energies, watched as Satoru inflicted injury and insult upon the great demon lord Goru. Her eyes met Satoru's and she she knew he was regenerating his wounds as he stood and faced the defeated demon. She leaped high and landed near the gaping wound that Satoru left in Goru's chest -- it was slow to regenerate for the demon lord. "You're in there, aren't you Ioshi?" Goru huffed as he whiffed Kamiko. "No matter your form, always so beautiful. You played your game well ..." Kamiko considered what Goru said for a moment, and then she ran Reaper across his throat. He coughed and a waterfall of blood erupted from the wound the enchanted sword dug in his neck -- his scream echoed the voices of the thousands he had slain and the torrent of billowing blood grew in force and thickness. Kamiko left her perch on Goru's chest and dove into the deepening sea of blood for which he was the wellspring. Satoru was waist deep in the crimson sea and he waddled his way to where Kamiko was -- she resurfaced and was carrying the sheath Satoru had ripped from Shingen's back during their confrontation. "Kamiko!" Satoru shouted over the roar of rushing blood. He noticed that Goru's body had reduced in size. Kamiko waived and joined him and they kissed heatedly and Satoru said: "How long can Goru bleed?" "Enough to flood half of this little hell," Kamiko said, her finger's in Satoru's blood splattered hair. "Damn," Satoru muttered, his hand resting on Kamiko's large breast. "Was the Lady Ioshi ever here?" Kamiko bent her head and touched her forehead as though she was spiked with pain. "Yes," she said finally. "I ... I mean Ioshi -- was here. But her memories are so confusing." Satoru glanced over his shoulder and noticed Goru's screaming body was slowly collapsing as it emptied itself of a thousand lifetimes of stolen blood. "We climb," Satoru declared, grabbing one of the loose chains dangling from it ethereal tether. "They must be attached to something." Kamiko gawked at him and then looked up the chains and finally nodded. She grasped on of the links, put her foot in the other and began to climb the chain like a ladder. After she had climbed four links of the chain, Satoru sighed and began his trek behind her. Kamiko paused and cast a worried glance at him. "If you fall," Satoru said, "I'll be there to catch you -- or I'll fall with you." VIII The higher they climbed, the roaring winds made conversation next to impossible -- below them, Goru's garden ad shrunk to a hazy red patch flooded in ever rising blood. Above them, the darkness gave way to an eerie green haze. Despite their inhuman stamina, both Satoru and Kamiko were reaching the limits of their endurance. "This is not leading anywhere," Kamiko cried. Satoru saw her grip waning. "How long have we been climbing?" "Hours, I think," Satoru said as he maneuvered so his body was opposite hers. "We can't stop now." "Satoru, I know," Kamiko said and reached through the chain. "But I'm so tired." "Kamiko, I'm sorry," Satoru said, kissing her fingers. "If you hadn't met me -- if we'd never been together, none of this would have happened to you. I failed again ... " "Satoru, never say that! If I'd never met you, the feeders would have drained me to death. Being with you made me stronger -- being with you again brought me back. It gave me the Lady Ioshi's strength, even if it was for a little while. Every little moment I spent with you was worth it. And with Lady Ioshi's memories, I have lived -- lived more than I ever dreamed. For that, I thank you." Satoru held Kamiko's hand and reached through the chain and touched her chin. Kamiko smiled and kissed the inside of his palm and then let herself slip away. Satoru's eyes grew wide as he saw Kamiko let go of the chain and allow herself to fall back. "No!" Satoru screamed and he moved around the chain and launched himself with all the might his powerful thighs could muster. "I won't fail you again!" Like a drowning stone, Satoru propelled himself downwards till he reached Kamiko. His hands found her shoulders and he yanked her upwards and wrapped his arms around her waist -- their skins rippled against the rushing. "Satoru," Kamiko cried, her tears defying gravity and falling upon his wind swept hair. Waking Blood Ch. 02 "I'll never let you go, Kamiko, Ioshi!" Satoru shouted and positioned himself eye to eye with her. "I ... love ... you ..." They kissed, their tongues renewing an old acquaintance that demanded a tribute and their lips speaking words defined by desire. As they tumbled towards the hellish ground, their bodies entered an uncontrollable spiral -- yet their lips remained in contact and the combined heat of their bodies began to turn the moisture in the surrounding atmosphere into a hazy cloud of falling steam. A contrary burst of wind set on separating the lovers blew sideways, pushing them apart -- they each fought to regain a modicum of control over their free-fall, till an updraft caught them brought them together. The cloud of steam rekindled and they kissed -- but their desires overcame any tenderness and Satoru's pants flew away and became entangled with the chain that paralleled their trajectory. Kamiko parted from Satoru's lips and crossed her hands and grabbed his hips and flipped him like a pinwheel. With his delectable erection within reach, Kamiko hooked his thighs and pulled his crotch to her mouth and she engulfed Satoru's in her warm, wanton mouth. Satoru gasped at the effect of her tongue around his rock hard member -- his response was to wrap his arms around her tone, lean thighs and he parted them, allowing his tongue to find her pungent pussy. Her smell was intoxicating and he celebrated it by running his tongue along the creases of her pussy. Kamiko lightly bit his inner thigh as spikes of pleasure shot through her chest and crested at her nipples that she rubbed against his rough skin; she tightened her grip on his shaft and pumped him quickly as her tongue swirled over the tip of his cock. Satoru's lips and jaw trembled with bliss as his lavished cock quivered beneath Kamiko's ministrations -- he parted the lips of her pussy and teased the moistening entrance while he rolled her clitoris between his lips. Kamiko flooded his hungry mouth with her fluids and all the while she had been licking and sucking his balls. As they exchanged pleasures, their united bodies had started to spin horizontally as they aligned themselves with the ever approaching ground. They spun uncontrollably for a few moments until they disengaged their amorous lock for a traditional encounter. But a sudden draft pushed Kamiko towards the chain that hung by them. She managed to grab a link and her momentum pulled the section of chain she caught into a long lazy arc. Satoru raged as he missed the chain and Kamiko began to grow smaller. Driven by the fear of losing him, Kamiko imitated Satoru and pushed off the spinning chain with will and force -- chance was on their side as Satoru's fall seemed to slow and Kamiko was able to rendez-vous with him while narrowly missing a collision with the swaying chain. They moved gracefully in a falling aerial choreography until Satoru was behind Kamiko and his cock was aligned with her pussy. He grabbed her hips and slipped easily within her well wet pussy. Kamiko sighed from the sensation of being filled by Satoru hard cock -- he was captivated by the silky folds of her inner sanctum and the heat that they shared. Their spacial position changed as he fucked her with abandon; Kamiko had locked her ankles at his lower back to ensure she stayed immobile and able to enjoy the ramming he was giving her. Satoru lost all notion of space and time and knew only the shear delight of possessing and being possessed by Kamiko and Ioshi-of-mind. He felt his cock grow each time he thrust into Kamiko and each time she responded in kind. With effort and coaxing, they managed to move their bodies so that they could face each other and experience the other's bliss -- Kamiko wrapped her arms around Satoru's neck and her legs around his waist and rode him while his thrusts seemed to coincide with the lightning and thunderclaps that erupted around them. A torrential rain fell from the green haze high above them -- each drop that struck their sex crazed forms evaporated as the heat they generated began to rival that of an evening summer sunset. The spiral they drew in the rain caused a tail of steam to form above them and they appeared like a comet ready to crash into the seething lake of blood still spilling from Goru diminished corpse. Satoru and Kamiko fucked each other with such force that when their sexes came together, shockwaves rippled through the columns of rain -- grading their descent as they fell. Satoru's eyes were closed and he felt his oncoming orgasm wash over him with force enough to stagger even the forces of hell's tempest -- Kamiko's pussy was tightening around his cock with growing fury as it desired to be fed more of his hot, enchanted come. He snapped his eyes open and stared into Kamiko's eyes as he felt cock tear itself apart and release a river of come rivaling the blood lake they were about to crash into. Kamiko felt his lava like come fill her pussy to the point of overflowing while the friction against the undulating walls of her cunt made her feel like she was struck by lightning and she gushed her own orgasm, her juices mixing with his as they toppled over again and again. Droplets of their juices mixed with the rain and a streak of black lightning cut the sky bellow their tumbling form and the sky around them ignited in crimson flames, and they became a crashing fireball of self-consuming orgasm that exploded seconds before touching the lake of blood. The explosion had sufficient force to raise tides of blood that moved away from the its center and wash away any evidence that Goru's garden or stronghold had ever existed. The husks of the demons and vampires slain by Satoru and Kamiko were obliterated. All trace of the blood soaked lovers was erased. Epilogue The sounds of a natural night echoed throughout the broken compound. He opened his eyes and his senses filled with all the life that surrounded him. He sprang to his feet and pinpointed every sound and shadow -- even the shadow of the hooded figure standing before him. A fire burned in the middle of the compound, he was breathing hard as he recognized it as the Lady Ioshi's old home. "You're awake, and looking well," the stranger said. His accent was uncommon. "Good. Not many can survive a Hell-Realm -- and Goru's was a particularly nasty one. Do you know hard it was to get a fix on you with the way you were falling?" "Who...?" "Well, you're Satoru -- the Keeper of Hearts. The Lady Kamiko, she is the Reaper of Redemption -- the legends in Hell call you two the Fangs of Vengeance." "I believe, my 'lord'," Lady Kamiko, stepping from behind Satoru and saying with authority, "that he was asking who you are and why are you in my home?" "Who I am is the one who pulled you out of the Hell-realm -- and I'm here to make you a proposition." Satoru looked as his new Lady -- she nodded and he turned to face the hooded stranger. "Speak your name and your proposal." The stranger pulled his hood back -- he had a thick beard and thick, curly brown hair that touched his shoulders. His cheekbones were high and his nose was regal and somewhat crooked; his lips were thick and sensual and his skin was lightly brown. But what struck Satoru and the Lady Kamiko were the stranger's round, deeply penetrating, brown eyes -- something they heard was common to gaijin. "I am Lazaire -- or sometimes Lazarus. I'm building a house for killers of demons. Would you like to kill some with me?"