History Protection PreCure

Chapter Five: A New Opponent?! Our Cure Wonder Is Taken Hostage!

"What a piece of work is man!" A woman covered in the lightest of fabric, in color, weight, and transparency descended from the ceiling of her bedroom, hanging by a sweet silk. "How noble in reason. How infinite in faculty!" She tilted back, allowing her leg to become wrapped with the fabric. Meanwhile, the rest of her body dangled by the foot. "In form and moving how express and admirable...!" She ran her hands across her body, from her thigh to her chest as a bright light shone down on her from the ceiling.

Pierre watched, snug in a fainting chair on the floor. He took in a deep breath, elbow against the rising end of the chair, adjusting himself to get a better view of the woman. He stood up, sauntering over to where a wide variety of white fabric of different texture hung. He looped a piece of tulle, sliding his shoe through it and tugging on the fabric as he was then lifted upward towards the woman. "Shakespeare, Mon Amour?" He questioned, reaching out to touch her cheek.

"I despise that Ophelia," The woman's eyes snapped open, lifting herself back up and tugging on the silk that brought her over to a dark platform that was only illuminated by the white canopy bed catching the light from the center of the room. Once she rid herself of the silk, she shrugged the fabric off, leaving her with a pair of white shorts and a strapless top. She waltzed over, flaunting every step with grace as she picked up a jade pipe from a nearby vanity. She took a hit. "Allowing men to use her as they please..."

Pierre took the woman into his arms, looking towards a mirror she stood before. "So helpless..."

"Useless."

"But selfless," Pierre breathed. He moved her hair out of the way, the locks sliding off like a curtain of darkness that covered her otherwise light body. He slowly began kissing down her neck.

The woman sighed, watching the puffs of smoke escape her lips. She gazed at the mirror as she took another blow from the pipe and Pierre kissed her skin.

"My Li Hua..." Pierre gasped, taking the woman by her hips and flipping her around so that they met eyes. He reached into his coat, grabbing a bejeweled dagger. "Your blood has stained my heart and my soul," He proclaimed, kneeling down and placing the blade at the woman's wrist.

Li Hua pulled away, giggling. "And with them... Words of so sweet breath composed." She turned her hand, holding the back of her hand out.

Pierre took her, kissing the back of her palm.

"There, my Lord..." She spun around, fleeing the company. Her feet slapping against the cold tiling as she soon disappeared from view.

"Pierre!"

The man dressed in a red coat stood up, storming to the edge of the platform. "You dare interrupt me?!" Pierre hollered, taking the fabric and carrying himself to the floor. He ran to the entrance arch, pushing the visitor to the wall and holding the tip of the blade against the other's chest.

"Sir! I'm just here to deliver a message from the Master!" It screeched, gurgling at the hand that wrapped itself around its throat.

Pierre stepped back, allowing the creature to drop to the ground.

The creature, barely standing at Pierre's knees, held a violently shaking hand with a scroll. Its boils protruded from the back of its tattered clothes. The patches of burned skin still caught enough shine from the spotlight that barely caught the archway.

The one in red snatched the paper, unraveling it. Pierre's eyes read from one end to the other, catching onto the nature of the message. "Li Hua,"

A pair of pale hands gripped Pierre's shoulders. Li Hua hovered over her man, her legs in the air. "What is your will?" She questioned, pushing herself off of the man and landing on the floor with robes and a weimao. Li Hua turned away, lifting her veil and breathing in the smoke from her pipe. "Inferno has taken sides with the Cures?" She inquired, breathing out. "Oh, my... How very interesting..."