The White Blade

You were lost for a time, wandering the black recesses of your own mind, unable to find anything but further darkness.

That is until you pushed into deeper depths. This place was a dream, a figment of your unconsciousness that was clear to you… yet unlike every other time, you were entirely alone.

Somewhat alone anywho.

You were constantly aware that you were being watched - no, no not that, it was more like, you had been swallowed by a whale, and it knew that you were inside. The malevolent feeling of this place, devoid of anything, was beyond description.

Furthermore, completely different from any sensation you had felt before. And yet, it felt oddly familial, comforting as much as it was distressing.

Feverish, unable to focus, you screamed, “IS ANYONE THERE, PLEASE, YOU HAVE TO GET ME OUT OF THIS! PLEASE!” You cried, unable to suffer this lack of existing any longer.

It was only there, in the furthest depths of your comfort and mania, that the voice spoke to you.

“Count your blessings, Dark Sun. For here may no creature harass thee. No more shall the taint assault your spirit. Not here, not in my embrace. The grave nature of your affliction means that my hand is bound, until you submerge yourself further. The moon spins on its axis, around the world, and the earth turns eagerly, but in this deep place, one may only sink deeper. Cast aside all you know and give it all onto me. Once the Mummer’s Dragon drags you in and spits you out, you shall suffer me and be granted a reprieve….”

“Morgan!?” You shouted. “Is that you!? I know that weird fucking accent. I thought you were dead!? Listen, you have to help me, get me out of this… this… gunge, I-I can’t breathe, I can’t get you back to your coven like this!”

“YOU NEED NOT BREATHE. YOU NEED ONLY RELENT!” The voice suddenly yowled, forcing you to cover your ears as a light suddenly flickered in the distance.

Like a madman, you pulled yourself through the dense slog of darkness, forcing yourself towards it. “HELP ME, J-JUST STAY RIGHT THERE, I’M COMING!”

But that was no use, for you had to shield your eyes as the light flourished into a vast expanse, blinding you, burning you.

The tender grasp of soft skin closed around your body, the huge fingers of the white light taking you up in the palm of its hand like a newborn, ushering you out of the slog, banishing the darkness as it lifted you above.

Images passed through you, sounds too. All was a mess of violence and death. You saw a woman adorned in armour so red that it became a shroud under the bleeding sky, you saw her tearing towards an army of over a thousand, cutting them to pieces with her brethren at her side.

She butchered them all, like swatting flies she peeled off their limbs and cast them down.

At even the first glance of this figure, you were consumed. Utterly, bewildered by an unfettered rage which burned with hellfire.

With ice-pale hands you reached out to grasp at her neck, to crack the bone underneath, you would watch the life flee from her eyes as you would continue on to assure her death.

“Chhsssss… Chhhtaacch… Cha-Charlie… Stahp….” She moaned, choking like a little bird under your iron grip. Your eyes blazed and for a moment you felt true content, until you actually looked into her eyes.

They were a sage green, the colour of the vibrant flora in a budding spring, not blood red. And her hair was straight, oak brown, not crimson. She was freckled, soft faced, beautiful and beet red as you strangled the life out of her.

It was only when you became aware… that you were hilted deep inside of her wet cunt as she straddled atop you, that you released your grip and let her drop back, exposing her nudity. She lay there dazed, coughing and sputtering as she tried to catch her breath.

“F-Fucking… Jesus.” She said with a hoarse, croaking voice.

Like a fly with its many-sided eyes, your gaze darted around the Mansion's guest bedroom. The drawings, the candles, then neatly folded clothes. Then Bonnie. Her neck turning red from your hold… and her palm trickling with hot, sticky, wet blood.

Your bottom lip quivered.

Quickly you threw the bed sheet over her palm and pulled out her legs sos that she could lie in comfort. Her skin was polished and supple, her perky breasts tipped with dark areola. You felt the very fibers of her muscles, the thick veins which ran through her modest tits.

You found your mouth wet and your cock hard. And you felt… nothing.

Carefully, Bonnie leaned up as you loomed over her. She looked terrified and triumphant, a strange combination. “I’m sorry.” The first words you had spoken, they felt odd, wrong.

Bonnie continued to watch you, as if waiting for something else. But eventually she cupped her neck. “Fetch my clothes, please.”

Fetch her… how the fuck were you supposed to do that with one arm half-severed and the other smashed to pebbles, you’d-You’d… both of your arms were completely pristine, your gut sealed shut as it never opened, all wounds completely gone. You smirked to yourself as you leaned over to pick up the neat bundle of clothes, handing them to Bonnie, who gave you a weak smile.

She made a gesture for you to turn away and you did so as she got dressed by the many humming machines.

“I was dead again?” You eventually said.

“Yeah, you were.” She responded slowly.

“You brought me back to it, like after the alley?” She had done this before, but never to this scale, just what the hell was this nurse?

“Yup.” She said.

You watched as eventually, she walked around into your view, wearing a pretty green dress that hugged her form and made the blood pulse all the slower.

She began to check your vitals, eventually moving into your space. With a practiced delicate hand, she pushed up your eyelid tracking the movement with your eyes. She checked both your ears and said “Say ah.”

“Ahhhh.” Your voice rang out in a bassy tone as she looked inside your mouth, under your tongue and at the sharp point of your four fangs.

She seemed satisfied, despite the tremble in her fingers. As she looked at you, you tried to search for anything in yourself, any form of rage, panic, fear… you found nothing. “I have questions, a fucking heap of them. But before any of that… Thank you, I really shouldn’t be here-”

“Don’t say that, not yet. A lot has happened, you are needed… by a lot of people right now…” She quickly stood, walking over to retrieve her bag and snuff out the candles at her feet. “...You owe me a lot of answers yourself, kid. I assume it’s safe to stay for now, I’ll take up residence here for now and we will catch up once things have calmed down and you have had some rest. Don’t go thanking me either.”

She went for the doorway, mainly because the door was lying, half-covered in chalk markings on the floor. But you caught her as you stumbled out words “...I meant it, Bonnie. I am sorry. And… thank you-”

“I said, don’t thank me. It’s fine, Charlie, I just need to… we will talk later.” And with that, she left.

Collapsing into the bed, you fingered the rippling scars on your shoulder, thinking instantly of none other than the Grand Inquisitor.

“There’s no avoiding it now.” You thought. This would be it, the virgin hours of the War. You pondered the slaughter to come. If it was to be a match in piling up corpses, you could be nothing else but the victor.

You had barely a moment to think before many figures blurred into the room. Ice cold, but urgent and passionate lips kissed upon every inch of the right side of your face. Meanwhile, frosty but soft hands caressed the left side, ending with a great big pair of lips smashing into yours, powerful arms slung around you to draw you in tighter.

Belle wept tears of red as she bellowed out relief “Master! Master, please forgive me!”

Muninn pushed her fingers through your hair and massaged your neck with her silky hands “We thought you’d leave us, I can’t lose anyone else!”

Many others flooded in. Your Noxium. Every one of them seemed swollen with joy, their pale, smiling faces plentiful. Although, there was something else as well, something you couldn’t find in yourself. They were terrified of you as well.

“SEE, I TOLD YA THIS COWBOY WEREN’T DONE RUSTLIN’!” Rudy howled, nearly throwing herself on the bed to grab you. You could not help but grin at them all, some were injured… some were just gone… but so many had survived, you were beyond grateful for all of them.

But that didn’t change the facts.

“Moonie. Talk to me.” You eventually said, silencing the room of a couple dozen, the rest must have been cleaning up after all that mess.

She hesitated and you clutched her hand tightly “Tell me, everything. Hold nothing back.”

And so she and many of the others did.

Diana was lost, taken by the Parish. Vicky too was gone, Belle had fought with the Red-haired beast but it got the better of her in the woods and escaped. Many were recovering from their injuries, many were dead.

You saw the Ghost and the Phantom, both shrink into themselves as Belle spoke on Rudolf and Pharos. That much you still felt, deep inside, the shadows which lingered in the depths of your Red Sea… they were gone, torn away, forever.

Worse, was Hughie.

“I sent him out to find Hilde and Artorias but… He never came home. Your Auntie and Grandad are in recovery as we speak.” Moonie said, an absolute sorrow flooding into her red eyes.

You frowned, deeply “Recovery?”

“The Moores, My Lord.” Claus stepped forward. His cardigan was frayed and half-scorched, and his blackened scalp was still regenerating. “They must have attacked the three of them on their way back, or so the Mad-Dog proclaims.”

“How the fuck did any of this even happen, we run constant maintenance and security on this place - OUR PLACE, there’s no conceivable way they can get in without us knowing about it?” Belle growled.

“Even then, the fact that all of them came at us at once, all at the same time, on the same night? It clearly wasn’t coordinated - the way they were tearing each other apart like that.”

You looked at Moonie, her face buried in her hands as she shook. You gritted your teeth as the voices picked up. Sharply, angrily you roared “BE SILENT!”

You could hear a pin drop.

You held Muninn’s hand tightly as you felt at the depths within, searching for even a flicker of certainty. Much to your relief, you found it. Merely a wisp, a tiny pool of black where Hughie’s shadow usually resided.

“He isn’t dead.” You spoke with a small smile. Moonie’s eyes shot wide. She looked to you, asking, begging with her gaze.

“Please, Master.” It said,

You gave a nod and Moonie arose, facing her loyalists “Twelve with me and another twelve to fan out along the coastline, we will search every inch of those woods for my brother, or die trying.” Muninn commanded.

They followed her orders without question, for they were rooted in your authority. Just before she went off with the others, you grasped her wrist “Don’t you dare die on me. But bring him back, whatever it takes. I made you a promise…”

“I know.” She smiled, swooping in to peck your lips before zipping away with her subordinates.

The others continued to yap away after Moonie took her leave. They yammered on and crowded and made their pleas, an air of panic and urgency collapsing down upon you… as a whisper, familiar and cruel, once again began to tickle behind your ears.

***Lover Boy… ***

Your eyes darted towards the window, the winds howling through the intricate iron frame as you quivered in a grim nostalgia.

***Lo…ver boy…. LOVER BOY! ***

Jolting violently, the room fell silent once again as you sprang out of bed, naked as the day you were born, towards the open window. The Noxium shared a collective gaze of intense concern as you peered out into the battered driveway… empty, bereft of any signs of life.

“Master, what’s wrong?” Belle spoke, walking over and placing a concerned hand on your bare shoulder. As her fingers brushed the burned scarring aside your neck, the skies flashed. It was then, standing between the milliseconds in which lightning strikes, you saw a figure, holding a corpse in her arms.

It was a rare sight, capturing a complete image in the fleeting light of the thunder, even with your vision. But, in the corpse this figure carried, you could not but notice the blonde hair hanging down from its head, and the ivory scabbarded blade resting at her feet.

You flinched away at Belle’s touch, jolting again as you turned to look upon her half-shredded face “Jeeeezus!” You growled.

Belle frowned, turning the unsullied side of her face so that her injuries were obscured “S-Sorry, Chip, I… I uh”

You tried to give her a more reassuring gaze, taking her hand.

“I need some time, that’s all - please forgive me, all of you. I fear I may still not be in my right mind. I know you’re all eager to talk… We will meet once the time is right…” You were speaking to them, but your eyes continued to cut through the open window, searching for that figure.

“Of course, Master, but-” Claus started, moving towards you.

Sharp as a blade and twice as cold as its steel, you roared, red-eyed and furious.

“GET OUT!”

If there were protests to be made, you did not hear them. If there was hurt in their pale faces, you did not feel it. If they had all left or perhaps some had stayed behind, You did not see them. With a feverish sense of purpose, you marched out of the room and down to the foyer, making sure to grab one of your father’s comfortable fur robes on the way down.

The mansion felt cold and empty then, your bare feet padding on the crisp marble floors as you barged through the reception doors, not even stopping to see if Namina was at her desk - You burst through the large double doors, into the icy rain and cruel wind.

You felt like a ghost in this place, haunting an old battlefield. Yet you were certain that… that one felt a little too vivid. And so, you walked barefooted onto the frequently cratered stone driveway.

The Gravestone was just up ahead, casting an unnatural darkness on all who stood beneath its colossal shadow.

You peered into that shadow, and felt a presence. “All I’ve done for the past god damn week is starve and hallucinate. I know you’re real, I KNOW YOU’RE FUCKING REAL, COME OUT!” You screamed into that shadow.

And something answered. A wave of dread filled you again as from that darkness, stepped the figure. Just like before, she held the corpse in both arms, walking slowly, steadily towards you.

Now you could see her in full. A woman, dressed… in a full Japanese kimono, black as night and textured with the pattern of the flowing wind. Upon her face, was an ivory mask in the shape of the smiling fox; the Kitsune. From each side of her small head, fitting for her nimble frame, flowed a waist-length mane of straight onyx hair. The ends were dyed a gentle sky blue.

Like a phantom she moved on deft feet towards you, and stopped only a few meters away. Your eyes became stuck, to the ivory curved blade, tucked in her Obi (Her sword belt). You felt it crawling into your mind, an echoing, cloying whisper.

“Lover boy - Lover booooyyy..” It whispered.

And then, she was only a few inches away from you. You could see the crimson eyes, burning like hot coals within the mask, staring intently at you. Without ceremony, she dropped the blonde corpse at your feet, a disfigured, strange thing laid limp on the stones… a thing, whose undercut and medium blonde hair you recognised immediately.

You were not sure what to say. You were not sure if you could even trust your words at this moment. But as you watched her, this Japanese Superior, Hisano of the Genryu, Lady Fall, she gently and carefully removed the ivory blade from her belt and held it at her side.

She was quiet for a few moments, and oddly enough, alongside the unfathomable power oozing from this woman, there was also a distinct feeling of… well, shyness.

“Lady Fall, right? Unless there’s some other immensely powerful but oddly cute Japanese vampire lingering around?” You spoke, but she cut in quickly, speaking in a cool, calm accented tone.

“The Morrigan’s scent is strong here… and on this creature of yours.” She said in perfect English, pointing the ringed pommel of the Muramasa at the lumpy purple corpse at your feet. “You are fortunate to have survived.”

“What can I say, I’m a lucky guy.” You said, but you were only half paying attention. The white sword was what ensnared your senses. “You really did leave this for me, didn’t you. Pops had it right from the start….” She watched you, staring at the blade, wide eyed and shaking like a crack addict. “What is it?”

“A gift.”

“That… thing, is not a gift. It… It…” You muttered, unable to shake its draw, its allure.

Lady Fall moved into your space like a cat creeping on your lap. It was strange, her aura was astounding, its depth profound in ways that you had never felt before. Yet, there was no malice in her red gaze, nor even a shred of animosity. Instead she reached out and with her smooth, practiced fingers reached up and touched your bottom lip with her thumb.

“Frenzy.” Her whisper was a dark condemnation. Even further to your confusion, she knelt down by your feet in a deliberate and ceremonial way, even more so when she hoisted up the white Tachi, and held it aloft for you to take. “This blade, hungers much like yourself, Orochi. It is your test, a gift to replace your shattered hope.”

You reached for it immediately, but felt your hand tremble as you fought the urge “I don't understand?”

“No, not now. But soon. You will feel the Muramasa's kiss again, and when you do, its sweetness will be intoxicating. It has tasted you now and has found your flavour delightful; it will answer to me no longer.” She held it higher, silent, expecting.

And when your fingers closed around that ivory scabbard, you got an inkling as to what she meant. How it hummed with comfort in your grip, begging, pleading to be drawn.

When you looked up, Lady Fall had already begun to walk away. “Hey, wait, don't go! I have so many questions!”

“And they may be answered. If you take your rightful place, with your own kind at the clock tower.” Her low, supple voice echoed in the darkness as her shape melded into the gloomy shadow under the gravestone.