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Sunset updates tag list.

I try to keep it to release updates, long excerpts, and character profiles. Please comment/dm for +/- or to switch to the All Things tag list

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You felt comfort settle as you didn’t seem to be headed down such a strange route, but at the same time, you still didn’t quite understand what exactly you were brought in for. So far, as you understood it, the two girls could not only see you but didn’t fear you within his company.

This little detail unsettled you.

You weren’t afraid of many things, but this predicament you had found yourself in didn’t sit quite right with you.

And as he led you further away from the outer section of the temple, you couldn’t help but wonder what this strange person truly had in store for you. Working together? You thought you were just helping him satisfy a curiosity. Unless he was being purposefully vague to keep you on the edge. Whatever it was, you didn’t fully trust his intentions.

“Come,” he spoke once again, opening a slotted wooden door, “you’re going to bathe.”

You cautiously padded towards the room, spotting a small square bathtub with no curtain to hide being. The floor was made from bamboo and the window, although concealed by wrapping leaves around the outside of the exterior, still looked outside.

“Can I do it privately?” you asked, settling into the idea. You didn’t need to wash yourself as a cursed spirit, there was very little point in doing so. You didn’t perspire like humans did, and dirt therefore didn’t cling to your skin the same way. The rain that fell washed anything resistant away and due to not being alive in the same way that mammals were, you didn’t smell.

However, you could entertain it to keep your life.

Something told you that he wasn’t going to let you get further than this if you didn’t bathe, at least.

The man, who you had by now determined was referred to as Geto, tilted his head to the side in what appeared to be confusion. His long, cascading black hair hung in the air as his brows furrowed. “You’re a cursed spirit, aren’t you? Why are you being shy?”

“I’m not being shy,” you replied, attempting to stand your ground. You weren’t totally oblivious, knowing exactly what sort of form you had. It was feminine and through your feedings in the past, you understood that the anatomy wasn’t too far off either. “I am wary though,” you admitted, “you should understand why.”

He nodded, although his gaze didn’t wander away. “Sure, you’re a pretty face,” he considered, “but you’re also just a cursed spirit, so anything that I might do to you or not doesn’t actually matter, does it?”

“Is that why you brought me here?” you attempted to call out, trying to find the reason behind his words.

He shrugged. “I’m not being rude. I’m laying out a fact. Cursed spirits can’t feel anything.”

You tried to challenge his claim however, your words carrying some spite as you spoke, “But I might. Not every single one is evil without cause.”

“They all taste the same to me regardless,” he said, leaning back against the wall, his eyes trained on the steaming tub, “like rancid gasoline.”

There he went again, reminding you that you weren’t the only one who had the capacity to feed. You didn’t like that he had reduced your life to just a flavour that he didn’t like in his mouth. It felt demoralising, bleak and hopeless. Perhaps not too unlike how humans felt right before meeting their end.

You couldn’t quite shake the unsettling thought that now coursed through your body, understanding that while he took you in for some sort of strange hidden purpose, that he was going to very likely treat you poorly because of what you were. In his eyes, you were likely disposable because your life didn’t hold the same sort of weight that a human life did, for example.

Yet he emitted some sort of aura that made him call to you—making you drop your guard around him.

Some sort of cursed technique, maybe?

In a resigned sigh, you didn’t prod at the subject for any longer, deciding to get this whole thing over with and despite the lingering discomfort you felt from his eyes settling over your now exposed body, you pressed on, washing yourself under his hungry gaze.

He stared at you with such devotion, almost. His eyes practically worshipping you the longer that he stared. This was shaken off quickly though, his thoughts reminding him of your true nature. How horrid you truly were.

A disgusting sight.

An even more bitter taste.

You weren’t anything special, maybe even below human in his eyes.

Even despite the looks he gave you and the things your body made him feel. The way your curves sloped, the way that water rolled off of your skin—no, this wasn’t right. You weren’t right.

You were simply below him.

~~~

The next morning, he led you someplace else, guiding you off to another location. You didn’t in particular like it there either, finding that the stares of the people he acquainted with were nothing short of hateful.

Pulling you off to an airy room with a small stage, he explained your divine purpose to you with concerning detail.

“My role is to… deceive people?” you asked, not quite understanding, “Most people can’t see me, though.”

Suguru tilted his head at you, his voice dripping with a sarcastic tone, “That’s the whole point,” he smiled, glancing at one of the attending members, “I would like to be perceived as a higher power to those unsuspecting and unaware. Maybe even a deity amongst simple monkeys.”

You frowned in response for two reasons in mind. First, you didn’t want to be around humans for an extended amount of time for obvious excuses and second, for his own stated desire. Just who was this man actually and why did he seem so much worse than you?

He had the audacity to call you disgusting and yet, he spoke of himself so highly.

…Why did he have to bring you here?

“You see,” he continued, “people’s beliefs can be fragile, but that’s why in religions, miracles must happen and also… punishments.”

Just before taking you here, he did brief you on earlier with a threat to ensure your compliance. You understood fully why you felt confused around this man now and it was likely due to his cursed technique. The same reason humans feel strangely at peace before death, was likely what you felt when it felt like he was close to using it. A false salvation, a doomed hope if not only a means to an untimely end.

“You have other cursed spirits for this sort of job, don’t you?” you pressed with that information still fresh in your mind, hoping he would give you a better answer than the meaningless ones he had been giving you so far.

“True, I have my… collection,” he mused, crossing his arms in consideration, “but they act more as tools rather than helpers. I can command them to fight, to feed, to… kill, but they can’t perform miracles. That’s where you come in.”

Holding onto a sceptical tone you continued to prod, “And how could I possibly accomplish that?”

Suguru smiled at your linear way of thinking. He supposed that you couldn’t help it. “Do something positive, no matter how small. Or do something terrible, no matter how evil. These fools will interpret even the smallest act as a sign from something greater.”

You exhaled deeply, continuing to feel trapped. He was revealing his intentions to you as though you were just another one of his tamed spirits, yet you were free. Being so often around humans wasn’t something you wanted to be doing, finding the situation almost agitating.

“For example,” Suguru continued, his eyes catching onto a random man that stood in a small crowd nearby. “What do you pray for?”

The man hesitated from the sudden question, but answered the question anyway, “Wealth…?”

Clicking his tongue disapprovingly, Suguru scoffed, “Such a selfish desire, but let’s see if it’s granted shall we?” he dramatically gestured, his sights pointed at you but you didn’t know what exactly this meant. He brought you here with very little context and zero guidance.

Returning to you, he quietly reminded you in a very flat tone that he could either exorcise you or you could, you know, feed, right on the man that he had just spoken to. That he didn’t deserve this wish anyway, because if you couldn’t understand—being what you are—that selfish wishes like that aren’t worthy of miracles but punishments instead.

“I know you’re barely holding back,” he whispered, trying to tempt you, “think of just how good it’ll finally feel to give in, to not worry about consequences.”

And just like a cornered animal with a desperate desire to carry on living, you gave into instinct once again.

You couldn’t even help it.

Acting out of desperation, you reluctantly moved forward as an opportunity to sate your burning hunger had been so freely presented to you. Oh, how tempting it was to give in, to bite into flesh, to drink such thick red blood as though it was red wine—you felt so drunk, intoxicated even—as you chewed against disfigured flesh, but then, you heard it.

Screams. A lot of them. Gasps and shudders and an atmosphere of boiling dread; a feeling that both continued to intoxicate you while sickening you at the same time.

Albeit reluctantly, you pulled away from your feral stupor while still grinding against bloodied flesh, licking the blood that dried quickly over your lips. You couldn’t help but feel a wave of disgust roll over you as you backed away, with wide eyes as you surrendered to a lapse of something you didn’t want to become just yet.

(As long as you remained aware, you could remain in control. As long as you didn’t give into your instincts, you could still be you. That’s all it took. Yet, he sought to take it away from you under the false impression of becoming a god.)

In your heavily heaving state, swallowing the last bit of meat, you watched on as the man who took you in, who stared hungrily at you the same way you did at flesh, that claimed to be disgusted by you all at the same time—approach and ask someone else, repeating the same sort of question to them and snorting, hearing a finally acceptable answer.

“Good, that’s a good answer,” he praised, even if his tone did carry a hint of disgust, his eyes blank when talking to what seemed to be just regular people. “Why, it even appears that there might just be a miracle in store for you later on, but first, let’s get this… mess cleaned up.”

Gesturing for someone to come and clean up the unfortunate aftermath, he finally led you away. It wasn’t like he was completely oblivious to what you could potentially become, but that’s why the punishments would be just as rare as the miracles.

After all, if such things were a little too frequent, then what meaning could they possibly have?

~~~