Morbid Investigations [Story Arc l Private]

[Siu]

There are secrets best left undiscovered,
Paths best left forgotten.​

Dark were the underground chambers craving investigation, as our lone traveler sought to perform a good deed in this world. There exist times, however, when one’s good nature can snare them into trouble, and not all devices are easily escaped. Sometimes, a precious part of one’s self is demanded as sacrifice; a limb for example. Truly, such victims never return quite whole—in more ways than just the flesh.

The air tasted impure, polluted with something beyond dust and dirt. Thin and suffocating, it burdened the lungs; undoubtedly threatening their health. Unholy history lingered here, deeds inhumane.
Each step felt foreboding, boots cautiously echoing against stone; the subtle dip of their soles upon its moist surface. Everything instinctively felt wrong about this place. A dark presence unseen, yet surely sensed.
Human trafficking seemed uniquely prevalent in this country. Sure, certain parts of Kaminari also shared in the dark practice—yet, the business appeared particularly flourishing in Kaze No Kuni.
Undoubtedly, the legality of this contract was questionable. Operating as a shinobi in foreign territory, especially one equipped with their own domestic force, might’ve been asking for trouble. However, desperate pleas found way into the woman’s heart. For these locals possessed neither the propinquity nor the funds to employ such aid... And, Siu further assumed, the relevance. As a drifting traveler, it shouldn’t have been her issue—no, it wasn’t her issue. But, again: ’One’s good nature can snare them into trouble.’
The deeper underground she’d investigate however, naturally, curiosity led her to grow a personal interest in the matter. The task gradually found itself developing from one accepted solely out of kindheartedness, to an investigation of her own.
Almond hues examined left upon reaching the stairway’s end, crackles welcoming their descent into the chamber.

‘Braziers?’

Though its origins seemed ancient, habitation appeared recent.... The kunoichi reminded herself to tread carefully.

Chains suspended from the cave ceiling, moisture dripping through its crevices. What appeared to be a number of ceremonial, perhaps ritual, candles illuminated the floor. Rats scurried past—Siu couldn’t tell whether it’d been her presence they feared or something else’s. In some far distance, further sounds occasionally echoed; difficult to determine whether natural, man—or even creature—made.
The room’s nature made her suspect some religious, perhaps occult, practices may have been to blame for these disappearances. However, aside from imagination, the only true comparisons she’d known were the Tenouza from her home country; knowledge that likely didn’t add much here.
An ominous fog produced from below, triggering the kunoichi’s senses into caution. The glisten faintly echoed as her hand forthwith withdrew the kunai from its pouch.
Eyes flicked aleft, then aright; forward, then behind... Not much else seemed visible; yet, something clearly lurked.

‘Jutsu?’ Sense obscuration afore ambush was not uncommon play.

The wordless shift was unsettling. And though no stranger to danger, this particular scenario put her on edge. Paranoia deepened as suspense stretched.
Something, like a breath supernatural in nature, persuaded the woman’s head to swing round, features hostile.

“Who’s there?!”

She’d peer, but wouldn’t see. Yet the air thickened; cold and foreshadowing. The kunai drew closer to its owner for protection.
An unintelligible whisper would waft through the air, as if the very fog had been its source. The kunoichi found herself taken aback, eyes startled.

“Show yourself!”

But only further whispers answered.

‘Genjutsu?’

No, that didn’t add up. From whence and when would it have been triggered? Undoubtedly, all Genjutsu aimed to feel believable as possible, but this looked genuine. So then... what the hell was it?
A shadowy apparition began to form just feet away, one of pure darkness. The single whisper would utter:

“Hikari ...”

“Wh ... What the—?”

“Hikari ... Siu.”

Three shurikens launched forthwith by the other hand—yet right through their intended target. The projectiles could be heard lodging deeply into the stone behind.

“How do you know me?”

Ominously, the apparition neared.

“Answer!”

The kunai eventually launched—same result. Both hands free, a weaving of seals would begin in defense.... The whispers continued to repeat her name.
Bolts of lightning shot forth—through its target, ineffectively—crumbling rock and damaging a portion of the room. Braziers and candles toppled from impact, spilling coal and wax across the ground, setting the room aflame.

“Hikari,” The apparition’s approach seemed to quicken, its whispers joined by others unseen; loudening to maddening degree, as if every particle in the room served as transmitters.
Her feet paced back—utterly terrified.

“Stay back!”

The whispers continued to repeat her name.

The kunoichi retreated about the room, attempting to maintain distance. The fire continued to spread; unnaturally so, as if deliberately seeking to limit her options. Siu’s focus shot towards the stairway, but when she started, flames violently spewed forth—setting her jacket aflame.
Frantically patting it down, she’d quickly resign to tossing away the expensive garment for the sake of time. Yet, by the time her head swung round—the Chuunin would discover the apparition right afront her face.

“Siu!”

Cold, shadowy grips wrapped around her throat like the embrace of Death. The woman’s hands sought to resist and pull them free, yet to no avail. Kicks swung to defend herself—yet to no avail. As her legs and heels swept through, they’d experience the icy presence within. Like falling through ice into a freezing lake. It caused her limbs to shiver and benumb.

‘Can’t ... breathe.’

The kunoichi felt her feet departing from ground. The grip around her neck tightened unbearably as it lifted her to disturbing heights. Utters may have attempted to object, curse, perhaps even plead—but words would devolve into desperate gasps for air.
Legs violently flailed about, like a fish struggling for water. Tears bleared her vision. Lungs screamed and burned. The icy embrace chilled even the insides of her throat.

‘Can’t breathe—Can’t breathe—Can’t br—’

Lack of oxygen and a racing heart sent the body into a severe state of panic. Half-lidded eyes fought to remain conscious. They narrowed and widened as the world faded in and out. Darkness seeped into the corners of her consciousness, seeking to devour her; like starving worms digging through a grave to feast upon a corpse.
Following violent convulsions, arms once desperately fighting for survival dangled to their sides. The flailing and gasps once prevalent abruptly ceased. As during prayer at a funeral, the room returned to silence. Siu’s body hang still, its silhouette swaying in the fog.

 

[Siu]

Oh, restless wanderer, what is it you hope to find?
A leaf drifting in the wind, without aim.
Journeying the earth, yet fulfilling no purpose.​

“Awaken, young one.”

Shackles jangled against the woman’s wrists as she jolted to consciousness, establishing she held no authority here. Eyes struggled to completely open, squinching against the dim light... How long had she been out?
Someone ... or, rather, something loomed afront. And when her senses came to realize this fact, she’d instinctively jerk back, as one does upon witnessing lingering images from a nightmare—Yet bonds jangled, keeping her in place.
Though straining to make clear the bleared figure, her vision demanded time. A pounding headache like no other further welcomed her return; and soreness, as well as bruises, within and around her throat testified the terror afore hadn’t been a bad dream, nor potent Genjutsu she’d awaken from—yet reality.
A few inhales—it pained to breathe.... But, at least, for now she could.

When her vision finally came to ...

“What the hell—”

Had it been accurate to even refer to as such, this man appeared robed in what seemed to be garments of some occult nature, ominous dark grey. Particularly striking, however, had been the tattoos adorning his entire person: Swirling designs intricately inked throughout his skin, reminiscent of something tribal, even encompassing his face. Both beautiful and terrifying.
Truly, Siu couldn’t distinguish whether he’d actually been human or some kind of demon donning flesh. And moreover, whether she’d desired to actually know. For the answer may have proven even more unsettling than its mystery. In a word, he was relatively frightening.
Features solemn, donning no maniacal smile typically stereotyped of most occultists or religious fanatics, this demeanor made him all the more intimidating: A character with little interest for humor. Umbrous settings accentuated his presence. Siu deeply peered through the darkness, yet couldn’t see beneath the hood well enough to locate eyes. As if knowing of her body’s demands, all too patiently did he await; wordlessly watching the woman garner her bearings.

“Who ... are you?” Raspy words eventually managed to strain; facial muscles wincing through the pain in her throat. The obvious question for this scenario. She felt parched—had it been hours, days? Surroundings provided no clue of time.

“A figure lost in time,” Responded the voice of a clearly meditated individual. One all too sound for what Siu presumed to be her adversary. ”One which you’ve lived too few years to know.”

What a strange answer... Those demon suspicions seemed starting to confirm.

Without request for consent, he’d lean his visage near. The kunoichi craned back, but her movement was limited. From underneath the hood, irises of pure gold revealed, the likes of which Siu never before witnessed. They gleamed in the darkness, studying their subject. Eyes that seemed not only to judge her physique, but something even past that. It produced visceral discomfort.

“A shinobi,” He seemed to identify. “In body, at least—But not in soul.”

The Chuunin didn’t know whether to feel impressed or hostile... Everything here seemed pretty well informed of her, and she didn’t quite much like it.

“Hm.” A single hum. The kunoichi couldn’t tell what it meant. Maybe something. Maybe nothing. The man would turn, then pace towards the wooden table anear; retrieving the large, open tome atop.
Casually, he’d turn through pages, as if this had all been common practice. Features would browse a page, flipping to another if it hadn’t contained what was sought. Siu felt like a quiet spectator of some dark scene, waiting in suspense.
Coming across one page in particular, he’d glance back towards the woman, to the page, then back again; as if comparing the information of its contents to the room’s subject.

“Far less ... developed than anticipated. Especially considering the such late arrival.”

‘Expected ... Late arrival?’ The information stewed in her mind some moments, afore resigning to inquire, “What’re you on about?” Expression curious and hostile.

Wordlessly, the man displayed the tome for her to view the page herself. Siu’s eyes narrowed, seeking to distinguish its contents.

Depictions, reminding her of those like in fairy tales and myths for children to keep their attention. The words themselves, indistinguishable in the dark, however.
She’d make out what appeared to be a young child fighting a dragon in one panel. They seemed to be battling upon an ocean’s surface, or perhaps, a lake. Perhaps, they’d been battling a Leviathan. In another panel, three children conversed together. They appeared to be very close. Maybe friends, or siblings.
Another of what looked like two girls eating together ... Another ...

‘Wait.’

It all seemed too vaguely familiar.

“You’ve .... gotta be joking. This is—”

“Yes,” He’d complete for her, “It’s you.” The open tome was placed back upon the table.

***

​

“As you can see, I’ve followed your growth for quite some time. Though, one can only bear so many repetitious Academy classes before losing interest. Truly, I’d presumed your soul had lost its resolve. Thus, your tale was put aside.”

Rummaging through long unsearched crevices of memory, the Chuunin realized she’d nearly forgotten the names of those once close to her; teammates, childhood friends, teachers. Siu couldn’t tell how much it covered of her history; whether the book acted as some sort of summary or recorded every detail of her life.
What manner of technique was this? Jutsu? Magic? Some illusion? She didn’t at all like the idea of her life just bare for others to freely see; especially without her consent—and especially for this person. Had it just been him with such knowledge, or had her life also been shared amongst others? Some warped, occult show and tell. She’d been praying the former.

“What is this? Who are you? For someone I know nothin’ about—sure seem to know lot’s about me.” Too much for comfort, in fact. Far too much.

A silent gaze; vaguely, it felt as some unspoken form of judgment. For the moment, Siu imagined herself like a child having asked a senseless question to a grown-up; said adult simply staring back in a manner nonverbally saying: “Are you stupid?” The kind of response that, even if said question had been entirely serious, immediately made you regret the words ever left your mouth.

“Yes,” Arrived a single word.

“Yes?” For an instant, the kunoichi felt her blood boil from the disappointing, uninformative reply. “Don’t scr—

“Yes—I do suppose you’re warranted answers.”

Overlooking outward peculiarities, Siu thought he actually appeared near her age—a very stretched guess. His speech and bearing, however, hinted—no, rather, told—of a soul far older and wiser than appearances.

***

​

“Ere three centuries ago, our kind were less scarce.”

“You’re kind?” And—how many years ago...?! “You some sort’a ... demon?”

“Most of this generation would call us such. Aptly, the world once knew us as Fixers.”

Siu’s eyes narrowed ... She’d heard words, sure enough. An answer even—yet, not a thing felt answered.

“A history lecture would likely prove of little benefit for you, I suppose. Especially as one unnative to these lands. For time’s sake: Among the Fixers, I’m known as the Storyteller.”

“The Storyteller...” Well, it seemed to fit at least—he did possess a big book, after all. Still—nothing was truly answered.

Siu racked her brains a bit, not particularly for attempting to piece together information—as it’d been clear knowledge was severely lacking for that—but rather, for deciding her next question, or series of them. The next method of attack, if you will. Something hopefully capable of uncovering relevant answers, and not just a series of details.
Maybe he’d been right—she might’ve just been too young to understand. Perhaps, through some dusty tome, somewhere amongst this country’s libraries, such details might’ve actually meant something. Eventually, the Chuunin came to remind herself why she’d even ventured down here in the first place. Maybe, that’d hold a key to providing clearer answers.

“The villagers,” She’d begin. “What have you done with them?” Siu somewhat regretted asking. As if the inquiry might’ve somehow reminded the man of what he’d had in store for her—as if he’d actually needed one.

“As shall be with you. You shall be brothers and sisters in the Trials.”

“The Trials..?” That ... didn’t sound very comforting.

“Eagerly, Jashin seeks fresh disciples; those worthy enough to achieve the honor of Headsmen. Our numbers prove scarce. Yet, the bodies and souls of this era prove ... wanting.”

“Ja-who? ... You some kinda cult?”

A single chuckle revealed from his person, amused—something Siu assumed utterly impossible.

“Young one, cults are those of misguided belief. Obsessive admiration towards figures of imagination. Existences false.”

Ah, this was getting weirder by the second. Definitely a cult.

“Yea ... Whatever you are, kidnappin’ innocents isn’t making for great selling points. Need to rethink your practices.”

There was no amused chuckle.... It was moderately perturbing.

The man paced towards another corner of the room. A corner too unilluminated to plainly see, yet produced sounds she’d rather not heard. Metallic things; tools, clinking and scraping against one another. They glimmered in the shadows as the man perused through them, considering which had been suitable for the job—scalpels, pliers ... a saw.

‘Oh god ...’ The woman felt her heart leap, bonds rejangling as she instinctively reconsidered escape options. “You can’t be serious.”

Eyes frantically scoured their surroundings, desperate for opportunity. The man picked up a cloth, sprayed it with something, then proceeded to thoroughly clean the scalpel ... Siu wasn’t enthusiastic to know of what.

“Shinobi are said to be closest in resilience to the First Men. Personally, I’m eager to observe your performance. Jashin holds high expectations.”

Siu did not share the eagerness.

The Chuunin had to think—and fast. No impressive taijutsu to break these bonds. Ninjutsu was out of the question with shackled wrists; moreover, her reserves felt weirdly drained, as if the very room gradually ate away at her chakra. ... However, there may have been one opportunity; and just, only one. Of which, she was terribly bad at...

’ Really suck at Genjutsu.’ Yet, in this moment, it may have just been her only hope.

***​

Long had it been since the Chuunin utilized Doujutsu; and for deliberate reasons. Associated stereotypes, being one. However, primarily because she’d had the most difficult time performing them. Under normal circumstances, one without Uchiha genes shouldn’t have been able to ‘deactivate’ their eyes. Yet, Siu had gone through painstaking efforts to learn how to seal the things, that they not perpetually feast upon her chakra.
The issue hadn’t necessarily been reactivating them so much as resealing them. But, without possibility for handseals, there didn’t appear to be a luxury of alternatives. Now had, quite literally—been do or die. Or, if not die—she hadn’t been enthusiastic to discover what else. Whatever occurred to those kidnapped villagers couldn’t have been anything pleasant she’d like to share in. The woman held little confidence in her survivability odds even without being cut up.
It took effort—with visible facial wrinkling—yet, the kunoichi eventually managed to call enough chakra to break the seal of her eyes. Well near the same moment he’d turn, Siu would perform the Genjutsu with the meager ability available. It’d been low level, not much threatening; yet, if she could trap him into it, there’d at least be breathing room to figure out how to work from there.
The Storyteller would abruptly pause in his approach...

‘Did it work?’

Suddenly, the pounding headache experienced upon reconsciousness intensified. The kunoichi began to experience acute symptoms of vertigo, the room’s features contorting. It would be then she’d come to a grim realization—it hadn’t been him affected by Genjutsu—yet her.

“Truly, it’s fate you revealed these before your Trial. Otherwise, preparations would have introduced further ... complications.”

‘Shit!’ Siu found it nigh impossible to even think. The pounding in her brain now proved utterly unbearable.

Menacingly did the Storyteller proceed.

“S-stop ...”

He did not stop.

“Don’t!”

The tattooed hand reached out, the woman recoiling as far back as bonds extended. The other gripped her jaw to keep her in place.

“W-wait—No—Don’t!”

Two fingers approached too close for comfort towards the revealed implants. “Impurities shan’t be accepted.”

As they dipped into socket, a bloodcurdling scream echoed. One of unimaginable agony, indignation, and sorrow. A scream which would shiver the spines of even the dead.

[Marked For Jashinism Kinjutsu & Possible Bloodline Swap]

 

[Siu]

There are ordeals the human body and mind ought not be exposed to. Limitations best respected. Engineering best untampered with. As a band stretched to extremity: Surely, its elasticity does endure. However, one discovers its original form never returns, damaged beyond repairability.​

Agonized screams echoed through chambers; amid gross surgeries and experimentation, inhumane rituals upon transmutation circles. In and out of consciousness she’d fall; the human’s instinctive defense mechanism against such adversity. Yet, even retreating to the mind’s depths only sustains it to a degree.
In due time, distinguishment began to obscure. Two weeks of countless excruciations eventually led our traveler to lose clear discernment of what had been reality, or just another unconscious nightmare.

***​

A damp chill caressed the kunoichi’s skin; still waters in her ears, dusty residue in her nostrils. She’d awake to discover neither bonds nor shackles, yet freedom of movement. Even more significant, however, would be what had been peeking through the bandages wrapped around her eyes—remnants of light.
With alacrity, grimy fingers would hurry to undo the material. Each loosened layer revealing further hope as its intensity brightened.

“I can s—” The revelation would be met with an odd formula of joy and suffering, her forearm lifting to protect unacclimatized optics.

At length, it’d lower. And, as if checking whether the organs had been genuine, fingers felt over the skin protecting the orbs. The first true emotion depicted would be in the form of tear droplets; whether primarily of joy or sorrow.
It need not be said, the departure—rather, seizure—of senses proves a grievous experience. Especially upon reaching understanding they may never return. A burden heavy for the soul to accept; unbearable for no few, and with good reason. Wise men remind one doesn’t realize what’s there until it’s gone: How true such words ring. Gifts taken for granted from birth, oft are forgotten not all so freely possess.
Gathering her bearings, hands patted the woman’s sides.

“Strange...”

Pouches ... Ninja tools ... Personal belongings—they had all been there. Even her passport.... Why?
Robbery had clearly not been on the agenda, yet it didn’t make the discovery any less bizarre. To perform all that, and then just—let her go? With all her original belongings to boot?
Siu yearned to understand, amongst the myriad of other unanswereds. But her head still pounded, and provoking further mental strain didn’t seem like the move. Her mental reserves already felt drained.
A worn exhale, both in body and mind, afore she’d instinctively rummage for the only thing still making sense in this world—a cigarette.
Weathered and crumpled—it would honestly do. The most encouraging sight in all this mess. No few flicks were demanded of the lighter afore its alighting of her stress relief. Returning the item to her pouch, the same hand rose to massage her forehead; a lengthy drag inhaled, serving as her only sustenance for the day... Or night. Who knew.
Her body vaguely burned. She’d wanted to overlook that fact. But from reawakening, there’d been no avoiding it. Fresh optics looked over the bruises around her once shackled wrists, absently turning them. The burn had not necessarily been something felt on the surface—yet underneath. As if the very blood coursing beneath her skin remained at a simmer.
By all appearances, the body looked the same; for the most part anyways. Minus no few bruises and fresh scars. Yet, inside, she’d known it was not. The burn even touched her organs. Uneasy, Siu found herself wondering whether they’d even truly been hers any longer. More alarming than realizing something was abnormally wrong with you, was being left answerless as to exactly what. For now, she’d appeared alive at least; or, something like that. That much, she could be thankful for. Yet in what form, she knew not...
Her head turn aside, almond hues belatedly taking notice of a medium sized sack next to her... Clearly no origin of hers. She’d stare at it some length, as if doing so provided any good intel, afore eventually tucking the cigarette between her lips to reach for and untie it.
Peering within, she’d discover a note sitting at the very top. The discolored sheet rustled as it unfolded; Siu’s left eye narrowing further than the other whilst reading through the Common writing.

'Jashin does not leave his children abandoned.'

Further drawing open of the sack would reveal unexpected rations, prayer beads—producing a questioning look upon the woman’s face—and ...

“What’s this?”

Saturated in engravings of swirling design from hilt to upper blade, not unlike those adorning the Storyteller, the elaborate masterpiece glistened in the dim upon its withdrawn inspection. Siu wouldn’t know how to best describe this weapon, as for her it’d appear as a kind of lengthier dagger, its blade curving midway. Rightly, however, this would be known as a kukri.
Devoutly silver, yet of different shades: Its lower portion to the edge the lightest, midtone hilt, and blade’s upper half the darkest. Its actual material, however, Siu presumed held a chance of being something of greater quality metal than meets the eye. Yet, she’d not even remotely been an expert to determine such.
The kunoichi would weigh the dagger in hand, afore performing a few test swings..... Comparing the simple kunais and shurikens in her arsenal—it’d definitely felt deadly. However, its weight was something Siu felt somewhat skeptical concerning. Even if just by a few kilos, weapon weight meant much regarding performance. The advantage of the kunai, though crafted rather disposably, had been their nigh inexistent weight, allowing swifter strikes.
Its thick blade sliced the air as the Chuunin entertained another swing.

But against thicker hides and armor, It’d surely boasts superior.

Distant from weaponry she’d been accustomed to, but its craftsmanship was to be respected. Without a hint of tarnish too, as if freshly smithed.
Fingers felt over the engravings, eyes eventually drawn to a particular carving in the hilt.

‘光 シウ‘

That was—Hikari, Siu.

Ah, the mysteries never ceased...

 

[Siu]

From: A Realm Between Hell & Earth

Another Hand To Grasp Makes It Easier To Stand,
Two Surely Prove Better Than One,
Yet Harmony Proves Scarce.​

A Realm Between Hell & Earth.

Afore our traveler, it spread vast. Reminiscent of an ancient catacomb. More befitting a name, however, may have been a city—a city of the dead.
Skull and bone of every kind adorned nearly every area of the massive cavern, as far as the eye could see; human and creatural alike. Architecture, massive; as if built for the inhabitance of ancient giants. No few skulls in particular would reinforce the theory; resembling the human in shape, yet immense in size. Siu herself had never witnessed giants, yet imagining plausible alternatives was difficult.
Waters flooded the lower portion of the city at inequal levels, like aquatic ruins. High enough to soak the waist depending where one stood. A realm, this guest felt, between Hell and Earth.

Thick leather boots ventured their first steps against moist stone, avoiding saturation where possible. Their echo spread far and wide. Bones rattled aside in their wake, remnants of the dead cracking and crushing beneath.
From braziers large to massive, flaming coal illuminated the dark. Yet, an eerie glow of indistinguishable origin also haunted this place.
Whispers, both alien and familiar, caressed her ears. The kunoichi instinctively withdrew her kunai from the pouch. . . . A familiar fog developed.

“Gotta be joking.” Not these things again.

Gradually, the shadowy apparitions formed. Not one, two, nor even five—Siu lost count after the tenth. Afore their complete manifestation, her feet already started through the cavern. Behind, she could hear the ghastly breaths; as if they hungered for her very soul.

“Shit—Shit—Shit,”

The Chuunin ducked as a grasp caught up from behind; narrowly above her, she felt its sweeping chill. Feet pressed forward, yet her head suddenly jerked back violently—rearwards she’d abruptly slip, back colliding against stone. From behind, the grip around her raven locks dragged her closer.

Not again, She couldn’t—no, she wouldn’t repeat that terrifying experience. Her heart raced upon the memory. The mind scurried and screamed for solutions. Around, further apparitions neared ominously. With little time to think, and her body dragging towards doom, in desperation, the kunoichi made her decision.
With a swift swipe, raven strands floated to the ground; the handful of lustrous locks still buried in the apparition’s grasp. It screeched, perhaps in anger—yet, their previous possessor had already made well off—neither desirous to know nor care.
Breaths were quick and heavy. Boots raced on; without direction, yet with no intention of stopping.

Gotta be a way out somewhere! Yet this massive grave stretched as far as she could see.

Leaping over a toppled pillar, midair her head swung, checking behind—Yes, indeed they still pursued; tirelessly hellbent at that. Forward ahead, further fog conceived—and shadows. Eyes widened in panic—What to do?!

As all seemed grim...

~Left ... Burial ... Chamber

The fleer’s breath bated. So taken aback, even her escape paused—What was that? A hurried scan was made around, yet no source was to be found—only closing terrors.

~Quick.. ly

This echo, it’d eventually dawn, was not one of this cavern—yet in her mind.

Not’a time to be losing it!

A screeching ensemble tormented her eardrums, terrifying as unbearable, like the wailing of a hundred banshees—Siu shot left.

Covering her ears in agony that only flared her headache, eyes saccaded about, searching desperately.

Seeing no chamber! Waste of time!

A heavy stir; attracting the kunoichi’s attention forthwith. She’d observe the laggard movement of a boulderstone, scraping the ground as it dragged aside, unblocking an entryway and welcoming her presence—for better or worse.

~Inside .... Come

By Raiden, this was shady. Yet, as screams drew louder, Siu understood she hadn’t the luxury of time to reconsider better options.

Her feet restarted: The opening was small—accommodating only an entry at a time, if even that—and, to the Chuunin’s dismay, also seemingly served as the only exit. Meaning, if all went south. . .

Literally my death, This had to be a joke.

Another shadowy reach sought to seize her, propelling the woman to leap through the opening, into pitch blackness. The horde hounded behind, yet just afore crossing into, flames violently shot forth; produced from no source Siu could recognize, barring passage.
Another spell of wails pierced her ears, their echoes haunting her getaway—then the boulder redragged shut, sealing her in the darkness.
Siu might’ve rejoiced, perhaps even celebrated—if she hadn’t been rapidly plummeting backwards, coughing the thick dust kicking up and choking her lungs; journeying down what felt like some stonework slide. Deeper and deeper—like refuse tossed down a garbage chute. The Chuunin felt it might never end—until, her body abruptly crashed into a dense pile; the hollow rattle of which told tale of bones.

* * *​

Adrenaline still rushing, panting heavily, the kunoichi immediately scanned around upon rushing to a stand . . . Pitch black. A single torch would suddenly alight the chamber. The kunoichi’s guard rose, her body shifting into a defensive stance. Yet, as typical of this place—nothing was to be seen. At least, not yet.

“At last, another hapless soul arrives.” Further torches alit, unveiling the army of bones piled and strewn across the ground—and, a figure. “How so very long I’ve waited.”
A male of tall stature, thoroughly mantled. The hood of his poncho cast a shadow, concealing his eyes. Its color best described deep, dark grey, nigh black; touched by the faintest trace of green.
The tall kilt cloaked his lower limbs. A thick garment underneath layered his gullet; reminiscent of a thick turtleneck. Each article shared the poncho’s color.
“Had enough of the horror circus,” The kunoichi warned with clear hostility, “Don’t screw with me!”
“Fear not, m’lass,” Returned a contrary cool. An innate sarcasm flavored his tone, even upon earnesty. “I wish no ill upon you. In fact, the very opposite.”
“The voice in my head . . . Was it you?”
“Aye, and the one having rescued you from sure death, I might add.”
Following this insight, the kunoichi’s guard lightened; ever so slightly. Her features, however, still denoted wariness.
“And... What you want? Somehow doubt that came outta goodwill alone.”
A curl produced from the figure’s lips, hinting amusement, confirmation; or both. Arms spread from out the poncho, as a presenter might afore revealing a new performance behind curtains, revealing symbols of runic nature: Tattoos diverse from those of the Storyteller; and far less widespread. For they actually adorned, rather than engulfed. His visage also appeared clean of such markings.
Siu noticed what may have been the thinnest bracelet of gold her eyes ever rested upon, along with matching rings. Neither appeared much thicker than a few combined strands of hair. Illuminated by flames, they produced the faintest glimmer.
“Take a look around you.”
Siu took a look around her.
“Does this strike you as the dream home you’d fantasize dwelling near a hundred years in?”
Attention returned to the figure, features perceptibly surprised. “Did you say—one hundred years?” The skin revealed hadn’t exhibited hints of wrinkling. In fact, Siu would’ve said he’d even appeared more youthful than herself: “You another demon like that Storyteller bastard?”
A hearty laugh emitted.
“So, that would be your Caretaker, eh? Rest assured—I’m nowhere near as eccentric as that fellow.”
“Caretaker..? “He’s no caretaker of mine!” Evident irritation resonated from the association.
“Say what you will,” The male continued, “Yet, you became his responsibility. And surely, he worked you right. You’re saturated in it. It reeks from your very pores.”
“I... of what?” Siu’s attention lowered to double check, then triple check her person, as if studying an alien object. “What’re you on about?”
“The aura. The stench. You and I are one of the same—cursed beings.”
Silence, as the Chuunin worked to decipher the statement. . .
“Didn’t understand it, but since wakin’ up,” Unconsciously, the woman gave another glance at the bruises around her wrists, “As if, this body is . . .”
“Yours, but not yours,” The male completed. Siu looked back up. “Burns, doesn’t it?”
“What is it?”
“The Ritual. Your survival of which, has qualified you for the first of the Trials.”
“The Trials. . .” Siu briefly allowed the words to stew in her memory. “Storyteller mentioned somethin’ like that. Didn’t sign up for any of it—just want outta here.”
“Wonderful! Then we share the same desire. Have you your gift?”
“My gif—” The woman paused mid inquiry, suddenly recollecting; then proceeded to rummage about her person. The haphazardly tucked item eventually withdrew.
“Heck is this thing anyways? Even has my name on it. And some note about some... Jashin.”
“The Wicked Heart; the very same one now preserving your body.”
“What’s that mean?”
The question appeared to give pause. A pause, not necessarily in the sense wherein information was intended to be withheld, yet rather, in regard to how an answer might best be expressed. The delay left Siu trapped in suspense. As was, he’d currently stood her best hope for answering the measureless questions accumulating since arrival.
“In a word,” He’d finally begin, “You’ve been cursed—or blessed, as others might say—by a god. One of old. Whether benevolent or wicked; well, that is of your judgment. But, if you’re as impatient to leave here as I, then my proposal is we make haste. Such inquiries can be more deeply addressed when—should we escape.”
The kunoichi’s gaze drifted aside, whilst allowing herself to digest the information: Cursed gods of old. All that torture, those rituals—there wasn’t a thing benevolent about it. Even the vaguest recollection upset her psyche. A force even reaching physically; producing wormlike discomforts in her stomach and chills up her spine. Phantom pains stirred where no longer wounded. Though she’d made the greatest effort to prevent otherwise, the gruesome experience had, inevitably, left its mark deep against her psyche.

So this was trauma.

Shoving it all aside, redirecting focus to the present, regard returned to the male afront: “So, what’s the first step?”
“The bastards lording those spectres must be properly disposed, to start. Rest assured, they are flesh and blood—well capable of being wounded. Far less complicated than those wretched existences out there.”
“So—they’re not just some storybook ghosts? But being controlled?”
“They’re what happens when misfortunate bastards like me stay in places like this for far too long—And also, what you’d have become, had you failed to flee here.”
“You mean, if I’d died there. I would’ve become like. . . one of . . .”
A finger snap affirmed: “Right you are, m’lass!”
The very idea roused terror.
“. . . Thank you.” Though low, the words were genuine.
“Escort me out this hell, and we’ll deem it favor for favor.”
“Deal.”
A single index pointed from his garments. “The gift,” He’d remention, “Words alone hold little glue for binding. Major agreements should be properly established—wouldn’t you agree?”
“What are you implying?” The woman inquired with an arched brow.

Oh, how regrettably little she’d known at that time.