Disclaimer:
I do not own nor claim all the rights to 鬼滅の刃 | Kimetsu no Yaiba | Demon Slayer; all rights are reserved to its respective creator, Koyoharu Gotōge. This is purely a work of fiction; names, characters, businesses, events, localities, and occurrences are all extrapolated from the author's writings and imagination or utilized in a fictitious manner. As such, any direct or indirect references to actual entities, dead or alive, or events do not, in any shape or form, resemble the opinions of the author.
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"..." = Dialogue
'...' = Internal monologues
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So, I stole A LOT of images from Batman: Gotham Knight again (plz don't sue), just a heads up in case you see Batman in the images lmao
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Within the confines of this begrimed chamber riddled with filth and the nauseating stench of rotting flesh and dry blood, there sat a towering figure whose presence evoked terror and disgust.
Haji's revolting appearance was fitting for the surrounding, heinous defilement of this structure born from human ingenuity. The rusting pipes were all strewn with stains of vomit and blood, the pools of brown-colored water were contaminated beyond care, and dilapidated bricks were scattered across the floor—maintenance of such material had become a long-forgotten task.
Yet, this Demon prided herself on such an unsavory setting. In fact, she took pride in her own appearance; her tone of voice and apparent mannerisms all indicated that she spoke from a position of power and utmost confidence, not deterred by the conspicuous manifestation of sin built along the surface of her terrible body.
Indeed, with great power comes a great sense of overwhelming bliss at the control one now has over others.
Perhaps Haji was intoxicated by such ecstasy. Although, that is all predicated on the true extent of her powers—whatever they may be...
"Mr. and Mrs. Rena, it is truly a pleasure to have you and your family down here in my little dwelling~" Haji jeered with superficial delight.
The Rena couple were holding each other for support, as the emotional stress of this torturous situation was placing a toll on them—like weights hanging on their shoulders, their beleaguered mental state hampered their physical functionalities.
The mother, in particular, was quietly weeping, whilst the father's face was highly corrugated and tense beyond relief.
Another set of guards acted as a barrier between the couple and their daughter.
"Haji-sama, please... let our little girl go," Mr. Rena supplicated deeply.
"I beg of you! Don't kill my baby!" Mrs. Rena cried out, tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Ooh? It appears we have very loving parents. You are one lucky girl, aren't you, Naho-chan?" Haji turns to the child in question.
Restrained by two guards, Naho was aggressively hauled to the anterior of the throne—where Haji was overtly perched.
The outward form of this creature was enough to petrify the innocent young girl into a mix of whimpers and heavy wheezing. After all, Haji's physical incarnation most nearly resembles the moral carcass of sin bereft of an ounce of rectitude.
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