[Episode 74794] [Episode 74794]"Damn you, Saotome!" Ryoga bellowed, as his head suddenly snapped back. Twisting his body, end over end, he flipped over to land in a crouching position. "This fight," he stated coldly as he wiped the blood from his lips, "isn't over yet."
Akane, long since frustrated with Ranma picking on poor Ryoga, had left. She was tired of those two. It was shame she did; otherwise, she might have seen what happened next.
Mousse appeared, moving vertically, out of a nearby tree-line with arms raised, and let out a volley of chains, swords, sickles, and other sharp objects. The flying, sharp-edged, debris forced Ranma to twist several times to avoid being hit by the attack.
During his twisting, Ranma grabbed one of the many chains, pulling it down powerfully. Then, as Mousse sped towards the ground, he felt a sharp tearing of flesh upon his back. He turned, while losing his balance, to see Ryoga walking away with what appeared to be a happy prancing to each step. Already on the ground in pain, he paid little attention to the splashing and quacking sounds in the distance.
The pain shot through his back; then, staring through squinting eyes, he tried to fight the sensations. "Ryoga," he stated through gritted teeth, "did you have to attack from behind?" Rolling to his side, and concentrating on his breathing, Ranma tried to fight off the waves of pain. His chest rose and fell, but the tattered body was without the strength to do anything more.
::: Saotome Home :::
Genma now stood in the center of a small, dimly lit room. The musky scent of the room seemed to demand an emotional reaction from the elder Saotome. He wandered to the north end of the thin rectangular room to a small shrine. "Father," he thought, "Ranma is the best martial artist of his generation. Maybe he can be a Darkstalker hunter too. No, he must be a Darkstalker hunter."
From beneath the shrine, he pulled what appeared to be a chain with a scythe on the end, some small brass armlets, and several scrolls. One of the scrolls was the one he returned to this very spot, after he wed Nodoka. He hated his curse, and not the shape-shifting one. His "blessing" is what his father would call it. He, and likely Ranma too, had the ability to feel a Darkstalker in the area. Since the boy could sense danger, chances were that he could tell the presence of a Darkstalker too. Genma silently prayed that Ranma could learn this as quickly as he did so many other techniques before, as he grabbed several other items from the shrine.
::: The Park :::
"Well, what have we here?" asked Morrigan, eyeing the fallen Saotome. Her lips curled upwards, as she realized that in this condition that she could just finish him. No need for tricks, complicated strategies, or fallible attempts to bed his female side. Crossing her arms in front of her, Morrigan's head slowly moved as she eyed the prone form of Ranma.
"Lilith?" Ranma asked weakly.
A wicked smile slowly crept upon Morrigan's face, and the light, as if on cue, glared off of her teeth. "This will be," she contemplated silently, "almost too easy."
His vision of the woman above him, just like the rest of the images around him, was not clear. The fuzzy images of the girl with batwings seemed to dance back and forth, merging, then separating again. While it was difficult to focus, the woman's silhouette should have been an image cast in time. The crossed arms and the tapping foot made her appear angry, but why?
Wearing her wicked grin, Morrigan's arms crossed her body, and she folded her wings about her. The sharp edges of spikes glistened on the edge of her wings. "Time for this hunter clan to end," she thought, and leaned forward.
With his vision blurred, Ranma stared with half open eyes at the black wings before him.
Almost to answer the unspoken question, Morrigan whispered her singular intent.
"Die."A small wind blew across the park, rustling the leaves of the trees, as an unnatural silence fell over the park for an eternal moment of nothingness. A moment in which some action was meant to occur. Instead, the only action was the trickle of blood from the fallen martial artist and a vicious glare from the succubus.
"What is this?!!" The now red-faced Morrigan screeched. Her smile faded, replaced with an angry stare. "What is wrong with my damned wings," she silently asked to no one in particular. Her face hardened to a determined scowl.
Finally, something would happen.
"No," was the singular thought deep behind the walls of Morrigan's mind. "No," was resounding through her essence, but from where?
Awakening, as if an alarm was set, Lilith felt Morrigan's excitement. She saw the same sights, and the same emotions were there. The sight of Morrigan's quarry was before her, the desire to destroy this boy was felt by both. "That isn't ME!" Lilith tried to shout at her other self. Her wings, she felt them go into position to spear the battered body in front of her. "No," she screamed. "No," Lilith screamed again; then, she screamed a third time. At first, her screams were lost within a cathedral of nothingness. She felt the desire of Morrigan to kill the boy, but those weren't her feelings! Again, she screamed, "No!" Each time she screamed, the volume of her internal voice increased. Just when Lilith felt she could scream no more, her mouth, not Morrigan's, whispered, "No."
Ranma watched, as the blurry image of a woman above him seemed to change. What was once a combat stance, now seemed to be more relaxed. The change seemed subtle, yet the only thing he could really make note of was the change in her stance.
A deep breath of air filled Lilith's lungs, as she recovered from the change. There were times when the change was easy, and this was not one of them. Lilith had felt Morrigan's determination, her intent, her attempt at a deadly attack. The battle of wills, while unconscious for one, was still a draining experience for the other. Exhaling slowly, she lowered herself to kneel beside Ranma.
Feeling a soft hand on his shoulder, Ranma looked up to see a pair of crimson eyes staring down at him. The hand moved across his back to a place under the right arm; then, a tugging sensation was helping him to move to a sitting position. Once again, he felt a familiarity with the person before him, "Lilith?"
"Yes, it's me," Lilith calmly replied, while checking quickly to determine the extent of the injury. Her inspection quickly showed that he had been in a fight, with a few scrapes and bruises, but what caught her eye was the small pool of blood where Ranma had been lying. Leaning in closer, the wound in Ranma's back was unmistakable. Quickly, she reached around him, and his weak protests, to apply pressure to stop the leisurely flow of blood. Her eyes were drawn to the layer of red liquid pooled on the thick carpet of grass, and the warm, sticky, substance on her hands.
"Can you stand?" She asked while holding Ranma up. Noticing that he placed a hand on his forehead, and seemed to lack coordination, she tightened her grip to keep him from falling over. Still, her eyes were unnaturally drawn to the crimson covered grass where the martial artist had been lying.
The split in her attention between the bloodied grass and the same on her hand evaporated, as the desire to gaze closely at the blood became overwhelming. Covered in blood, the crimson liquid ran down her hand, making little trails of red, as she lifted it. The trails of blood on her hand was... They were inviting. Never releasing the weight of the injured Ranma, she brought her right hand to her lips, examining each trail of red as it rolled down past her wrists and onto her arm in the process. There was a smell to this human blood, an enticingly sweet smell. The aroma was drawing more of her attention to the hand covered in blood. Soon, she found herself tasting the thick, salty sweet flavored liquid. Running her fingers over her tongue, she allowed the flavor to roll around in her mouth before tasting the blood on the next finger. Lost in the moment, she bit deeply into her own index finger, and a sharp pain rattled through her. Entranced by the euphoria of the moment, she shoved her bleeding finger into Ranma's mouth, "Taste."
His compliance seemed to arouse some darker essence, a desire for more. More! She began to trace her tongue around her wrist, where the last traces of blood could be found. Glancing over to the grass, she felt an odd desire to lay upon the spot. The pain she felt in her finger aroused more of her bloodlust, and she pulled herself closer to Ranma. Glancing over his shoulder, the red-stained shirt caught her eye. More of the substance was within her reach. Her right hand snaked its way down towards the wound, but as she did so Ranma's balance wavered. Without another thought, she grabbed Ranma by his side, and the jolt caused a sharp pain in her finger. She felt her own breathing become more labored; the pain was delightful.
Yet, the sensation of suckling was a wavering attempt at best. Lilith's fiery desire was diluted with the realization that her partner in this bloodlust was still injured. Shaking her head, she thought hard on why she was here. Lilith regarded the target of her alter-ego was in shock from some earlier, and in need of medical attention. With several deep breaths, she fought the curious joy of pain that came from the light but continuous sensation of having her life's fluid drawn out of her finger. She wasn't here to play; she was here to stop Morrigan from hurting Ranma. Her pain felt good, but she couldn't leave him here either. Another deep breath, and the determination was building.
Forcing down her euphoric desire to further indulge in the tasting, sharing, and letting of blood, she concentrated on her purpose. Reluctantly, Lilith slowly pulled her finger from Ranma's mouth. The desire was still there, only slowly ebbing from the heights of ecstasy, but her goal was set. After another deep breath, she asked with a hushed voice, "Ranma, I need to take you to a healer. Where can I find a doctor?"
Without a response, Lilith quietly added, "Looks like I get to pick the healer." A moment of contemplation began with the recessing of the darker desires. Her eyes sparkled from the delightful experience, but she couldn't help but to wonder why it was so delighting. "I've fought before," the quandary set in as she pulled Ranma up with her. "I've made people bleed. I've killed. Still, I have never felt like this," the desire was still there, but she just could not comprehend what happened. Pulling Ranma in tighter, she decided that her desire was a question for another time. Right now, she had to get Ranma to a healer.
With a single large thrust from her wings, Lilith lifted the injured fighter into the air swiftly with her. After several flaps of her bat-like wings, she carried her passenger for a quick trip out of the park. Flying westward, Lilith felt another hunger build inside of her, a desire that was decidedly more of a carnal nature. "A doctor," she thought to herself, pushing the other desire away with the first. Absently, she pulled Ranma's body in tighter as she scanned the streets below. The buildings whizzed by, as she carefully looked for anything, or anyone, that could indicate a place of healing was nearby. Exhaling loudly, she noticed a man in a white overcoat below, "I hope this is a doctor." Lilith swooped down to find...
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(Posted Thu, 30 Oct 2003 18:30)
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