In Crimson Blood

a/n: the ratings and warnings are going to change. This is not all too rom. kindda fic. it's gonna be dark in coming chapters. Also I would like to thank everyone who read my first ever fic. 'Bond: Blood, Body, Semen'.
Esp. thanks to my reviewers: midnightsweet, Nikkie23534, TwistedHilarity, mimori101, DemonLadySesshomaru, spoon and casey. Thank You very much.


Prologue.
1. The Scent Beckons.

A obliterated village. Air retches the heavy smell of blood. Havoc everywhere.
Panic settled only by death.

Moonlit darkness.
A pair of nonchalant eyes. Quick scan. A head rolled here, wide eyed, gaped mouth caught in the moment of sheer
terror and scream, forever; few limbs there, guts barely distinguished from mud. Nigens slaughtered like cattle. Not
even a child spared.
'Hn'
A quick sniff. No one alive.

What is that we see in those eyes?
Cold eyes? Yes.
Flicker of pity? No.
Disgust? No.
Anger?
Maybe we are over- valuing the scene. Too low for his interest let alone concern.
Make no mistake. Emotionless. It is all.

Rustle of leaves. A shrilling sound. Made by the dead, perhaps? A gust of wind dares touch everything, even the
one standing so tall and mighty. White silken mane flows in a graceful arc. Oh! A tale-tell wind, no less it seems.
Bringing the promises of thousand smells. Brings the promise of the one smell.

'Hn'

A pair of cold eyes; brightened suddenly by light? We wonder.

What is that we see in those eyes?
Cold eyes? Yes.
A flicker of pity? No.
Disgust? Maybe.
Anger? Maybe.
We cannot say. A web for emotions never to escape. They are the armor erected so, no one can cross through.
But, what is that smile for? Smile that would rip your heart out.

Has the cloud changed it's position? Is the moon shining brighter than a mere moment before? Must be.
Is that what the light is, in the eyes of the Lord, a mere reflection?
Do they dare think that those eyes have brightened in anticipation? Is that the sign of a barely contained
excitement? The Dead wonders.

But we know better, don’t we?
And so does Lord Sesshomaru.

Further west we go. Towards the promise of that smell we go.
The dead bid the lord goodbye. The rustle of the leaves says so. Avenge our death, the shrill in the air says so.

Further west he goes. Towards the promise of that smell he goes.
But they can't. They are bound in this place forever. Haunted, not alive. 'Avenge our death'. Souls in hope.

But we hope too, don’t we? The right opposite we hope.
Will he be? Their avenger, our killer?

But it's in the hands of the Sesshomaru. It’s in the mind of the Sesshomaru. Oh!, no. Maybe their death will
be avenged, after all.

But what if it was in the heart of Sesshomaru? If not then maybe in his lust, if not then in his sadistic interest? We
hope. We hope.

Further west we go…

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A/n: Yes, a short chapter. I hope you understood what I was trying to imply with the scent thing. I know it's not
very clear. The next chapter will explain who was responsible for this massacre and why. Kind of like a flashback.
So bear with me and tell me if you liked it or not. I'll accept both.