1 1. Blindness
I laid there. In a growing pool of my own blood, flooding from the cut on my neck. My body twitching slightly as life ran out. Each groove of the meticulously carved symbol in the dirt, slowly filling with red and warm liquid.
I could have avoided the blade if I had wanted to. Could have turned the situation around with a blink of an eye, but I hadn't. His words were my laws, the only things I followed.
Having been raised by this man from birth, he had turned me into his little one-man army. He had carefully created me, a designer child. Part of his DNA was in me. I had been nothing more than an experiment, to see how far he could take it, how far he could push me. Giving me harsh teachers to turn me into a poisonous killing machine. I was eight when I killed for the first time. Too scared of the consequences if I showed any emotion so I didn't even flinch. He had smiled at me and patted my head and I instantly felt immense joy. I would kill for him, steal for him, kidnap for him, torture for him. No matter the age or gender. His words were laws, my bible and I followed like a good little soldier. Always waiting to be praised for a job well done.
As I got older and his requests got more odd, the praises became less frequent. In the end he barely cared for me and instead immersed himself in his studies, allowed his subordinates to send me on whatever quest they wished. He became obsessed with the occult, fixated on finding a way for everlasting power and youth. The 23rd century might have had a lot of life-prolonging options, but none could keep death and aging at bay. The two things he truly feared in life.
And there I laid. The sacrificial lamb for my Master's whims, wearing a thin white dress. A parody of an innocent young woman. Ready to be sacrificed to an eldritch god, yet I was without the typical sacrificial charms, no gentleness, no innocence, not begging to live or spared. An emotionless puppet and this was to be my last show.
The cold blade ran across the skin on my throat, leaving trails of red in its place. Master had asked me to lie in the center of the symbol. Hooded figures surrounding us as they all chanted ominous incantations. And I didn't care. Didn't flinch from the stinging pain or the growing feeling of betrayal in the pit of my stomach and my heart. This was Masters order, and I would comply till my last breath. All I wanted was for him to praise me again.
The last thing I saw was soft flickering candle light as darkness took me in.
---
I woke, a burning sensation in my lungs and a hazy mind. My cold hands above my head, the right held up firmly by a warm hand, the left had been let go. Not struggling against the large figure above me. Darkness greeted me when my eyes opened, and I could feel a pillow above my face, no longer pressed down over my nose and mouth. I quietly took a warm shallow breath of air, forcing myself to not gasp for more.
A hand searched my body, greedily ran over my breasts and grabbed them hard under my nightgown. The man's face on my aching collarbone, his beard scratching my skin roughly, and the movement caused the pillow to fall down the side of the bed. Without a second to think I felt his mouth open and his teeth sink into the bottom of my neck, jaw locking down on my shoulder muscle. Deeper and deeper. I kept still as pain shot from the now ruptured skin and felt blood rush from the bite. He released and let his tongue run over his teeth marks before he sucked on my skin, causing the blood to rush to the surface. Disgust made my stomach churn but I stayed still, kept my voice quiet even though I wanted to scream out and force him off of me. My strength was not a match for him, I could tell from the strength of his grip. This body was weak and had only just returned from the grasp of death.
He moved over me, into a better position, the hand that had been crushing my breast moved to my legs to separate them, giving him space. The bed shook and my left hand hit the bedside table, a familiar scratchy sound in my ear. Like that of a dagger sliding over a wooden surface. Even without the pillow over my face my eyes were in the dark. A voice in my head told me I was blind.
The man moved his lower body against mine, a lump in his pants lustfully rubbing against my inner thighs as pain shot through me from both thighs. I instinctively knew he had bitten both my inner thighs in the same manner as he had just done on my neck. The sheet beneath me already wet from blood. The lump grew harder the more it rubbed against the bloodied bite marks, as he panted quietly into my neck. "Hah.. fuck.. She smells good.. a fresh body is so much better.." He whispered to himself, as he tried to be as quiet as possible. Sniffing my hair.
My heart roared in my chest and thumbed vigorously, my blood boiled with anger and fear. I was surprised he couldn't feel my pulse against his grip, but he probably thought I was truly dead, or too lost in his lust to take notice.
My left hand moved silently up the bedside table, fingers finding the sharp edge and soon the shaft, as the lump in his pants grew bigger. Fingers locking tightly around the shaft I waited for him to sit up to remove my clothes. The blade fast and sharp, but my movements slower than I expected.
I followed his movement as my upper body rose, my right hand hitting his jaw upwards with all the power I could muster, the movement caused the pain in my collarbone to grow, but I ignored it. I turned the knife and stabbed it upwards at the back of his neck. Once again using all the strength within me, I wiggled it deeper and deeper into the back of his skull. Waiting for his body to grow limp above me, as I severed the connection between his spinal cord and his brain. It took a mere second for me to stab him.
Two seconds later, he slumped to the side and fell off the bed with a crash.
--
I gasped for air and tried desperately to keep the bile down. My shaking hands tugged the camisole-like shirt under my nightgown, down over my breasts. Blinking furiously I kept the tears at bay. I had to calm down, my breathing was already closer to hyperventilating and I didn't have the time to have a panic attack.
Images flashed through my head. The sound of screaming and crying as an old man yelled at me and forced to hide in my closet before he left. Fifteen minutes later someone found me and I was roughly tossed to the bed. My nails digging into the man's skin as I struggled to free myself from the pillow forced over my head. His hand hitting my head and collarbone.
These weren't my memories. I clearly remembered dying of blood loss in a ritual, that would never result in anything. So how come I was here?
Hana. Ren Hana. I was blind. Had been since I was seven and now I was seventeen, nearing eighteen. Forced to watch my parents killed before me, and my house set ablaze at the tender age of seven. The last few things I saw. Or rather, the last thing the body's previous owner had seen before she went blind. Her pupils and irises turning white and lost all life.
Filled with confusion I tried to understand how my soul ended up in this child's body. I had been twenty-seven before Master killed me, living for his every whim. Our names were the same, yet we came from different places. This child was seventeen, surprisingly enough living the same type of empty life as I had. Only, she didn't work to please her master, she worked because she was threatened. Told that her parents were alive, and if she worked hard enough she'd see them again. The older she got, she realized this was a lie but just carried on in an empty haze. Like a living corpse.
--
The sound of footstep coming closer, made me return to the present. Being blind had increased her hearing and other senses greatly. Like the echolocation of a bat, she could use soundwaves to navigate and 'see' her environment. Based on sound, the pair of feet were fifty meters away, walking down the hallway outside her room. My room..
Feeling my way, I got out of the bed and crouched before the man I had just killed, and tried my best not to let panic set in. I couldn't even think of the word. The situation that had almost happened, I would keep it at the back of my head. Not allowing myself to face it before I was safe enough to truly reflect. I felt my way over the dead mans face, disgust painted on my face and tore the dagger out from the back of his head. The stench of blood thick in the air. For the first time in my life, I felt weak. And it was terrifying me.
Stepping over him, I moved to stand with my back against the wall. My body knew this room and knew to my right was the closed sliding door. I calmed my heart, remembering my previous training as my pulse slowed and calmed. I tried my best to blend in with the shadows.
"Did they find her?" One man asked, as the pair walked past just outside the room I was in.
"Not yet. This temple is too large, we've been here for almost twenty minutes and we're just halfway through the search. I doubt we'll find that marked bitch at this courtyard, every room is painted red, so someone has been here." Their voices trailed off as they kept walking. Not sensing that anything was out of the ordinary.
However odd it sounded, I knew this place. Her prison, my prison. A temple hidden deep in a dangerous forest. Made to serve and act as messengers for spirits and gods. A place of healing, they liked to call it. Creating and selling medicines to the rich and noble of the world, just one temple of many. Yet this one had a secret, they provided a different kind of healing as well. Healing through Spirit Power. An energy that delved in everyone and everything. Everybody was born with Spirit Power, some stronger than others, strong enough to cultivate and grow stronger, others less fortunate.
Healing through Spirit Power had always existed, yet everyone knew the painful process, the stinging of skin closing, the cramping of muscles and tendons binding and re-growing, the gnawing torment of bones resetting and connecting.
This body was born with weak Spirit Power, barely able to use it for defense, let alone to attack. Yet her healing capabilities were different from everyone else. She could use her Spirit Power to heal without pain, her Power numbing and creating a soft sensation of pleasure and comfort instead. And as the wounds would heal, the stronger the pleasure and comfort would become. To the point of a couple of disgustingly rich people had sought her out, to treat her powers a drug. Forcing her to heal even if they had no wounds, pleasure and the sense of euphoria turning them like drug addicts, viciously craving more and more.
The more she was asked to heal, the more she grew to loathe her power, to loathe herself. I knew the girl those men were looking for was me. I was not about to give them an easy time finding me.
--
Listening for footsteps or any signs of life, I snuck out of the room. Shutting the sliding door firmly behind me. Ensuring no one would notice the body for a while longer. I had thought of my escape plan as I waited. The temple was huge, five massive buildings with several thousand people occupying them, spread over a large area. The most special and important people stayed at the smallest building. This was the building I was in, furthest from the other buildings to allow for more privacy.
I knew my options, considering the memory of the layout and my knowledge from my previous life, I could safely rule out the normal exits. If people really were searching for me, to the point of committing mass-murder, I would have to think of a more stealthy way to run.
Based on the amount of light and dark I could see, I knew the corridor was not well lit. It was dark, and only a couple of candles had been lit. I could move with the shadows.
I made my way down the corridor, my breathing as shallow as possible to further enhance my hearing. My body fully alert. Fingers following the nubs specially made for me, on the wall I silently snuck my way to the spirit room. A large room with a circle of fine sand in the middle. A massive amount of incense would be lit, and a large fire would be started. The room turning hot and stuffy, the incense mixed with dehydration allowing people to 'communicate' with the spirits. Whether the previous owner believed it or not, I certainly did not. The scent still lingering from the room told me the herbs burnt had a hallucinogen mixed in.
I walked across the sand, my slipper shoes filling with sand as I made my way to the fireplace. It had been cleaned up, all the ash would be swept into the little tunnel under the firepit, allowing servants to easily sweep the large amount of ashes outside, without having to carry it all the way through the inner parts of the building.
I had never been down there, but I knew it lead out to the wood storage and to the edge of the temple.
Feeling my way for the grate, I tried lifting it and quickly realized this body didn't have the strength for it, my muscles tired and throbbing. I had to push the grate to the side, the screeching sound causing my heart to pound as each sound made me think it would alert everyone. I carefully slid down the shaft. It wasn't deep, but considering the height of the body I was now in, it was almost high enough for me to stand. My thin fingers found the grate again and pushed it back over the shaft. Once again my soul in pain as I was terrified the sound would be heard. Clank! The grate went back in place, and I stood frozen. Listening for the tiniest sound. Nothing but the wind howling through the tunnel, sending ash into my lungs. I coughed as quietly as I could, as I ran towards the end.
