Never Too Late

The moon was full that night, shining in all her glory for the ones she loved. Her followers bowed before her, praising her for her gift of light. Only one who bore her mark did not worship her; only one refused to bow.

This single being could feel the burning of the full moon on his spine. The sting of these characters, one for every phase, had been with him for years and yet he could never grow accustomed to it. His skin felt inflamed whenever the moon changed her shape. How he hated her then.

Despite the pain of her changes, this was not the reason for the fear he held within his heart. He had experienced the full moon many times before, but never a lunar eclipse. He would tonight.

A light tingle surged through the moon on his back, the black vines that circled it burned like they never had before. As a shadow was cast across the moons crimson face, InuYasha let loose a cry of such agonizing pain, the earth herself trembled. T/errible images passed before his eyes as InuYasha collapsed onto the ground.

Blood painted his thought, Death carved into his flesh like claws in stone. This vision of war was vivid, unlike any he’d seen before. He felt every blade as they cut into the skin of men. He heard every dieing cry and could feel the heat coming from the pyres as the bodies were placed upon them.

He was in Hell.

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