InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Under the Monster's Eyes ❯ The Telling Scar ( Chapter 3 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Pretty in Pink 
She sees his secret.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Psychological / Drama | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 09.23.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 571 | Visits: 344 | Status: Work In Progress
She sees his secret.
Anime/Manga: InuYasha Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Psychological / Drama | Type: Crossover | Uploaded On: 09.23.2008 | Pages: 1 | Words: 571 | Visits: 344 | Status: Work In Progress
A darker chapter.
Written to: Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata
.
Under the Monster’s Eyes
The Telling Scar
.
“Who owns your thoughts today, Kagome?” Dr. Lecter’s smooth-spoken query startled the girl, causing her to jump in her seat and turn wide, frightened eyes on the man.
He watched, morbidly captivated as her brows knit with intense concentration. Her azure gaze was focused, enthralled it seemed with a point on his chest where a fictitious nametag rested against the lapel of his coat and a black heart beat a baleful rhythm under his ribs.
Her voice was leached of its usual strength, instead barely drifting out like the broken melody of a rickety piano. “Some people believe that to take the life of another leaves a scar on the soul, a mark that can never be removed. Did you know that, Dr.?”
Dr. Lecter’s façade betrayed nothing of his thoughts as he followed her eyes as they left him and focused on the far wall. The light of awareness left the blue orbs as she retreated into her own mind once again.
He thought that might be all he’d get out of his patient willingly today, but she spoke again, quieter, weaker. “I have one, too.” In a familiar, unconscious gesture, she clutched her heart with both her tiny, white hands.
The doctor’s sharp mind didn’t miss his own inclusion in the condition she identified with herself. If she suspected his true identity, that of a merciless, brutal killer, she didn’t seem overly concerned.
Kagome continued on, unaware of her surroundings, focused on the images playing across her mind’s eye. The visions of monsters, of unsullied evil, of her own undeniable sins that haunted her dreams and stole her sleep. “A terrible, ugly black scar. It pulses with my heart, opens a little wider with every beat. Someday I fear it will swallow me whole.”
Lecter was quiet as he contemplated her admission. Had she truly taken a life or did she just believe she had? Perhaps unconsciously she blamed herself for her father’s untimely death. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in the survivors of a parent by any means.
“Is it what you see in your nightmares, Kagome?” His tone was soft, smooth and deceptively benign.
Soundlessly she nodded. She was on the verge of saying something; he waited. But at the last second, she seemed to change her mind.
She told him instead, this time looking into his watchful eyes, “Demons are savage creatures, inherently evil. They thrive on misery, on death. Destruction is all they know. But humans…”
There were bodies everywhere, torn asunder and tossed in the mud and filth like broken dolls. Children and infants, too. Numerous and forgotten, like they had never mattered. But no scent of demons on the wind. “Humans are so much worse,” she whispered.
The doctor watched her draw herself in, gather her knees to her chest and rest her head. Her long, dark hair spilled over shoulders and onto the brown leather of the chair.
“Tell me about the humans, Kagome. The ones you see in your sleep.”
.
Written to: Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata
.
Under the Monster’s Eyes
The Telling Scar
.
“Who owns your thoughts today, Kagome?” Dr. Lecter’s smooth-spoken query startled the girl, causing her to jump in her seat and turn wide, frightened eyes on the man.
He watched, morbidly captivated as her brows knit with intense concentration. Her azure gaze was focused, enthralled it seemed with a point on his chest where a fictitious nametag rested against the lapel of his coat and a black heart beat a baleful rhythm under his ribs.
Her voice was leached of its usual strength, instead barely drifting out like the broken melody of a rickety piano. “Some people believe that to take the life of another leaves a scar on the soul, a mark that can never be removed. Did you know that, Dr.?”
Dr. Lecter’s façade betrayed nothing of his thoughts as he followed her eyes as they left him and focused on the far wall. The light of awareness left the blue orbs as she retreated into her own mind once again.
He thought that might be all he’d get out of his patient willingly today, but she spoke again, quieter, weaker. “I have one, too.” In a familiar, unconscious gesture, she clutched her heart with both her tiny, white hands.
The doctor’s sharp mind didn’t miss his own inclusion in the condition she identified with herself. If she suspected his true identity, that of a merciless, brutal killer, she didn’t seem overly concerned.
Kagome continued on, unaware of her surroundings, focused on the images playing across her mind’s eye. The visions of monsters, of unsullied evil, of her own undeniable sins that haunted her dreams and stole her sleep. “A terrible, ugly black scar. It pulses with my heart, opens a little wider with every beat. Someday I fear it will swallow me whole.”
Lecter was quiet as he contemplated her admission. Had she truly taken a life or did she just believe she had? Perhaps unconsciously she blamed herself for her father’s untimely death. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in the survivors of a parent by any means.
“Is it what you see in your nightmares, Kagome?” His tone was soft, smooth and deceptively benign.
Soundlessly she nodded. She was on the verge of saying something; he waited. But at the last second, she seemed to change her mind.
She told him instead, this time looking into his watchful eyes, “Demons are savage creatures, inherently evil. They thrive on misery, on death. Destruction is all they know. But humans…”
There were bodies everywhere, torn asunder and tossed in the mud and filth like broken dolls. Children and infants, too. Numerous and forgotten, like they had never mattered. But no scent of demons on the wind. “Humans are so much worse,” she whispered.
The doctor watched her draw herself in, gather her knees to her chest and rest her head. Her long, dark hair spilled over shoulders and onto the brown leather of the chair.
“Tell me about the humans, Kagome. The ones you see in your sleep.”
.