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The History of Hell	By : HimeAndi Category: InuYasha > General Views: 1658 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Void
- 2-History of Hell - Kikyo
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- 2
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, nor make money from this story.
Men milled around the small shrine; men broken in body and spirit, men who had fled from battlefields and dared not go home for fear of execution for desertion. The reason they were gathered there walked among them; a miko, a young woman in appearance and appearance only. Kikyou, who had died and been reborn in a body of clay and ashes. Kikyou, who had set in motion a passion play unlike any other.
Kikyou, who could make even Hell weep with desire.
From the forest that pressed close to the shrine, red eyes watched her as she tended the sick, the dying. Of course, very few of the men died under her care. She was undead but still powerful, and banished the pallbearers of the dead often to appease her own aching, sinful soul. She would not release any soul to its destiny, or so it seemed to her observer. In the two days he had been watching her, two men had died, but only because even her skills and powers could not replace that much lost blood, close such huge wounds.
A breeze played across her skin, rustling her long white sleeves; a wind that was moving different than the breeze that played in the treetops around her. She tsked and immediately made an excuse to step away from her charges, into the trees around her shrine. Dark eyes swept the branches and brush, moving right past him. Naraku knew she could sense him, knew exactly where he was, but she walked past him, her sleeves actually brushing his hand. She went to the riverbank close by, ignoring the footsteps behind her, and then began to remove her clothing.
“Kikyou… you are not that foolish…” Naraku breathed softly, his voice almost concerned. She turned to face him, dropping her hitoe and revealing that her breasts were natural wonders indeed. Onigumo forced Naraku to gasp even though Naraku knew her body was not real… then again, his was not either. He quivered when Kikyou shed her chihaya, to his chagrin. His new demonic flesh refused to ignore the sight of Kikyou’s pale skin and lush curves. Forever frozen in the flush of life, her counterfeit form was making Onigumo whimper with lust…
No… that was his throat, not Onigumo in his mind. Cursing he turned to leave.
“Naraku. You don’t wish to leave, not really. So don’t leave yet. Come closer to me.” Her voice was cold, sly, like a snake curling down the back of his haori, but he felt himself turn and walk to stand before her. She looked up at him, expression hiding nothing of her scorn for him. Her hand lifted and pushed the baboon mask off his head, her eyes sweeping over his face with something akin to pleasure flickering in her eyes. Her fingers trailed over his cheek and jaw, and then moved to his lips.
“You are beautiful now. When first I saw you, you were so ill, close to death and frightened of me. Admit it, you were scared that I would finish what whomever hurt you so badly had begun.” She said, but the malice was absent suddenly. Her eyes wandered his stolen face curiously, as if she had never seen a man so close before. Her thumb pressed against his lower lip, then bent inward a hint, touching his teeth. He bit down on the digit gently, as a warning that she promptly ignored.
“You do not need to admit it then, Naraku. But you do have to admit that my body entices you. You desire me, I can smell it…” she purred before her hand slid into the pelt that hid him and grasped the proof of her words though his hakama. “I can feel it. So say it, Naraku.”
His red eyed narrowed and flashed dangerously, but she did not let go or step back. Of course she was not afraid of him, and she never had been. Her body pressed closer yet, and he could smell her, the mix of her, living and dead. Woman’s flesh, and cold graveyard earth. He reached around her back and hauled her closer, impelled by nature to lean down to her mouth. The laugh she released was silky, hot and hungry, her body stretching up his considerable height to meet him yet she forced him to initiate the kiss she had posed for. He shoved Onigumo into a quiet place as the sun dropped in the sky, darkness slowly reaching to envelop them.
He shrugged out of the pelt as Kikyou held his neck, lips slippery and hot against his, opening her mouth to his tongue. She tasted hot and smoky, like herbs and fire… and she bit his tongue with her teeth, holding him as her hand wormed into the front opening of his hakama. He was not sure he would remember what to do, and did not want to let Onigumo out to tell him. Almost tentatively, his hand curved down to cup her pert little behind, as soft and curved as any young woman’s should be, while the pelt fluttered off his shoulders and stretched on the ground behind him. He slid his other arm around her narrow waist and lifted her as he turned then dropped to his knees on the surprisingly soft fur, laying her back upon it under him.
“And what of you, Kikyo? What desires do you keep hidden in the Inch Space of the Heart?” He sneered quietly against her lips. She did not reply, hand stroking flesh insistently. He nuzzled her cheek then moved his lips to her ear, his breath a soft gust that made her shiver. “Tell me, did you lie with him under the moon? Or did you die unfulfilled, arms forever empty?”
Kikyo stiffened at that and growled, body arching against his as if to shove him away. He chuckled darkly, and caressed her side soothingly. “I see… so you died in hatred and longing, did you not? But what did you long for? The embrace of a boy, or the arms of a man?” She turned her head away with an angry hiss, her hand releasing him, yet her arms then wound around his back, fingers slowly moving up from his hips.
“Beauty always moves us, Naraku. My heart is mine, but for now I can, I will give you this body. Maybe… we can forget, we two, for just a while.” He paused above her, arm holding him just over her so her breasts barely brushed his chest. She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes as her fingers moved from the fine, inhumanly silky flesh of his skin to the scar on his back. Her touch there was electrifying, his stolen flesh shuddering in shock and flushing like a fire was lit within him. Utterly against his wishes he gasped then moaned softly as he shivered against her.
Her head turned, eyes widening as his face lost the cold cruelty and was suffused with something simple and breathtakingly beautiful; pleasure and the dropping of time into the now. His red eyes closed as his head dropped, his thick dark hair sliding down his cheek to partially hide his face. The hand on her side flexed, gently gripping her ribs as he moaned in confusion. Kikyo smiled with a near innocent delight; scars could be dead flesh, or very sensitive, but what a discovery, that Naraku’s scar was so human still.
She traced the spidery legs that trailed to his hips, then around the curve of the main body of the cursed spider-mark, and watched him quiver, head dropping further, only his jaw and those full lips visible through his hair. She nuzzled his cheek and licked his skin; he tasted of the night, dark and woodsy, and yet also of human male. His head turned slowly as if his bones had turned to water and their lips met in a kiss that went from soft to fierce in seconds. He bit her tongue then winced and backed away slightly, before simply exploring her again. Her pwer had nipped his tongue
His hand drifted from her ribs to her breast, curving over her curiously and squeezing her nipple between his thumb and fingers. Now she flinched, but also pressed closer to his hand, which was much warmer than her flesh. She continued to trace the scar, making him shake and quiver above her, her legs spreading and sliding over his thighs encouragingly. Instinctively he nestled closer, hip to hip so he had to bend his back up away from her to keep their lips together, his arm sliding to hold her head to him. His fingers twined in her sleek cool hair as their tongues warred.
Her skin was soft and sleek but cool, almost cold. Her body cradled him like they had been made for this moment, her sex pressed to his, her petals opened so he could smell her secret place clearly. He moved to nibble her ear and was rewarded with a moan from her. Her arms slid to his hips, hand digging into his flesh painfully.
“I know what you want, take it, take me, I want you to take me Naraku.” Kikyo murmured, and she meant it. Her hips shifted, pressing closer, opening wider for him, his shaft pressing closer against her wet flesh. He chuckled again, the sound rich and luscious as it poured into her ear. He reached down, stroking her with himself and chuckling again when she gasped somewhat shrilly. He slowly pressed into her, her cold outer-shell warming considerably as he slid inside. Kikyo arched slightly as if trying to shrink from him, and he thrust deeper into her, hips flush to hers. She was the one quivering now, though if it was pain or pleasure he could not say.
Her eyes were squeezed shut, yet a flush stained her pale cheeks, and she was biting her lower lip as breaths panted through her teeth. He pulled back slowly and her flush darkened, as his body shuddered with the pleasure of it. Her flesh clasped him tightly, making his nerves sing as he pulled nearly out of her then slid back inside in a smooth glide. Her head snapped to the side as she moaned and slid her arms around his shoulders, her legs moving to wrap around him tighter.
Kikyo was not in pain by any means, she was overwhelmed by the sheer enjoyment of him inside her, of his skin sliding along hers, of that soft laughter in her ear. His voice was smoother, more pleasant than Onigumo’s had been, yet it was the same at once. Rich, ironic, deep as if he was speaking, laughing, moaning from his chest, not his throat. She felt him laugh softly, the rumble going straight to her chest, felt him flex within her even as he began sliding in and out of her, his arms moving around her as if she might seek to escape even now.
Naraku dug his knees deeper into the discarded garments under them, clutching her closer as he moved faster and harder into her. He forgot that she was dead, a clay shell; she felt like flesh and blood, her tunnel so tight, so wet and clinging to him, her arms grasping him tight to her. He let go of his plans, of his worry and his hate as they moved together, pressing his face to her neck and biting her almost tenderly. Kikyo gasped softly and arched closer yet, legs trembling.
“More… harder…” she moaned and he moaned in response, obeying her wish willingly. They writhed together, striving for the same thing for now. He felt tension, familiar yet different in his belly and growled as he drove harder and faster into her, needing to relieve it. Kikyo whined under him, her head arching back as her nails drove into his skin, finding his scar inadvertently. He hissed in shock at the mix of pleasure and pain this caused, his fingers digging into her back and shoulders in response.
She could not name the need that owned her, but even though it was counterfeit, her body knew what it was, and drove her onward. She writhed and struggled under him, not to get away but to…
His fingers bit into her skin as his head arched back, hips crushing into hers as he shook against her. She felt him throbbing within her, felt heat flooding her and then the world disappeared, sheer and mindless pleasure taking her. She quivered against him and clutched him closer, head arched back as she uttered a soft cry. He continued to move within her, hips jerking, that heat moving deeper into her until he suddenly fell still, buried completely inside her.
Naraku panted weakly, resting his amazingly slight weight against her and shivering. His mind was hazy, but he replayed that amazing sensation over and over as best he could. That it was he and not Onigumo who had been enjoying the soft trembling shrine maiden under him added much to his pleasure. The pleasure had been indescribable and quite worth the risk; Kikyo had immense powers after all. Even now she could hold him close and purify him to death… maybe. Maybe not. Somehow he felt that she would not bother. Her plans were far too convoluted, such a simple end was not in her mind, not for Naraku.
“Well. Is Onigumo happy now?” Kikyo purred under him. He growled then chuckled, stiffening very slightly in her arms, which were once again stroking his scarred back.
“Iie, Kikyo. Onigumo sleeps deep. I locked him away. This moment, this sacrifice of yours was for Naraku alone.” He purred into her ear. Kikyo was the one to go stiff now, though she relaxed instantly.
“I… do not understand. Are you not…” her voice was soft and curious.
“Naraku and Onigumo are not one, Kikyo. Telling you this is dangerous. However, you would have figured this out eventually, no? Besides, can anyone blame Naraku for desiring such a lovely woman? Surely his eyes can see as well as Onigumo’s… or Inuyasha’s?” His voice was smooth as silk as he nestled closer to her, even as her body went still and stiff under him. They were still joined, and he shifted his hips a hint to remind her of it. She hissed at him scornfully.
“As if I care about such desire as Inuyasha carries for me. I only care about it because it fits into my plans for his demise! Now, I believe it is time for you to get off of me, Naraku.”
“Are you telling Naraku to get off of you, or out of you, Kikyo?” he asked playfully, nipping her earlobe and winding his arms around her tighter. She went utterly still, eyes narrowed as she glared sideways at him. He smirked then amazingly obeyed, pulling from her slowly, shoulders hitching as the action caused ripples of pleasure to wash over him. Kikyo bit her lip on a moan as similar sensation washed over her, her arms oddly reluctant to release him. He slowly sat back, kneeling between her knees. His crimson eyes swept over her, sprawled beautifully before him, skin flushed still and eyes gleaming despite her anger. Her hair was prettily disheveled around her head, one arm across her belly, the over cast almost carelessly over her head. Shamelessly she lay quietly under his gaze, and stared at him in kind.
Onigumo had been decently tall, or so she assumed. His body had been long and strong; however his face had been too badly disfigured to tell if he had been handsome. Only his eyes had been intact really, long and green like new spring grass, glittering with clever malice. Naraku’s body was different, more slender and graceful. He had flat lean muscle, with soft definition, and pale skin that other than the scar on his back was flawless. His hands were long and elegant, and she had felt callus on his right hand, callus from using a sword. Was that some sort of hold over from the young lord he had impersonated?
His face however was the most fascinating thing. His features were delicate, almost pretty, but obviously male. His red eyes fit somehow, along with the blue eye lids, all framed by a veritable mane of rich dark hair. It was tumbled around his face and shoulders, curling around his arms and resting on his thighs as he knelt as shamelessly naked as she. Even his maleness was beautiful, enticing even.
“You have good taste; snatching that poor boys flesh was quite a coup was it not?” She drawled. Naraku shook his head, smiling at her jibe.
“He was always sickly, yet strove to maintain his body as best he could. He was quite smart, and very good with weapons, as any young daimyo should be. Yes, it was a coup indeed to find him. Shall I admit he was far more attractive than Onigumo? Not that the bandit was ugly before his… unfortunate accident but still, I think I shall keep this face henceforth. Especially if it pleases your eyes.” His voice was still that silken purr, and his eyes still devoured her body. She could feel his gaze on her like a touch. She humphed and sat up, curling her legs to the side almost demurely. She smoothed her hair a bit, her raven tresses falling into place almost preternaturally.
“Yes, please do. It is a pleasing face. I enjoy seeing those red eyes of yours gazing at me so. However, it might be wiser to find some new hosts just in case. Inuyasha seeks you, though I will not let him kill you. If he knows what you look like, he can find you all the easier, correct?” She smiled coldly as Naraku’s eyes darkened, glowing eerily. He sniffed in distain.
“Inuyasha knows nothing. He cannot find me, thanks to your unexpected gift. When we meet next will be at a time of my choice, not his. It amuses me that he is so powerless, yet believes he can affect me. I shall have what I want in due time.” He stood smoothly, his muscles flexing beautifully. Kikyo’s eyes narrowed a hint at the sight. Even though she had been, was still using him, she could appreciate his beauty as he appreciated hers. Let them battle for dominance, war brains and beauty against each other. She had faith that having tamed one hanyou, she could tame another with her charms.
“As for letting him kill me, or not, do put the “protection” aside. I am not worried about that hanyou in the least. Plans are afoot even now, and he shall not survive this time.” His hand flexed and the baboon skin slithered across the ground, rising into his fingers. With a casual motion he flicked it out and wrapped it around his shoulders, the mask draping down his back.
“I take it you are leaving then?” She said smoothly. Despite herself, she heard a tiny hint of plaintiveness in her voice. Despite himself there was a hint of longing in his eyes as he shrugged.
“We both have much to do. You must ponder being rid of Inuyasha, and I must perfect my plans to do the same.” He knelt before her and cupped her cheek, a tiny frown creasing his brow. Curiously, they stared at each other, silent and still. Slowly her hand rose and touched his lips.
“I am waiting to destroy you too. Never forget that.” She said, her voice now flat and emotionless. His lips twitched.
“And I wait for the same thing. Ah to be free of you, I look forward to that day…” he stood and started to back away as she slid her arms into her haori.
“Until then… I will wait. I will wait to feel your eyes upon me once more.” They both smiled, and those smiles were cold and cruel, even as their eyes met with something hot and more alive then either of them had been for over fifty years…
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Disclaimer: Various characters in this story are copyright to Rumiko Takahashi, Shogakukan, Yomiuri TV, Sunrise, and Viz. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

The Situations and storyline here is the intellectual property of HimeAndi.

The Situations and storyline here is the intellectual property of HimeAndi.
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The History of Hell