A Taste Of Freedom

Part 1

The sound of bells resounded in the area. They were not of the melodic, happy chime no that would be inappropriate for the time being. The brassy, hollow tone droned through the crisp night's air. It would have been wonderful to sit and listen to the rhythmic beat, but that was not acceptable. The bells of death tolled in the midst of the night, sending shivers down her spine. They were a sign of her impending doom, her death that would be celebrated if they found her. Her heart pounded in her ears as she moved into the shadows, her lithe form moving at the speed of light. Fear coursed through her veins, determination gave her strength.

She could not allow them to capture her.

Moving through the back alleys and deserted streets of her village, vermilion eyes glanced around for an escape route. How many times had she done this before? This would be the eighteenth year in a row. She had been doing this for far too long, she had memorized every street, corner, nook, and cranny in this forsaken place. It seemed that the villagers had gotten smarter over the years, placing small traps here and there. She had to say she was impressed but that did not deter her from her goal. She would still be alive and well when the Hunt was over. She may be battered and bruised, but she would survive. It was the only thing that kept her going.

The bells tolled again, she could hear the villagers getting riled up, excited to hunt her. She loathed every single one of them; she would get her revenge one day. They believed her to be some blood thirsty monster. Monster she was not. If myth held any truth, then she was the furthest thing from a monster. Oni were to be prideful beasts, merciless killers, and all the other things that people should fear. She was the exact opposite; she was frail, small, timid, and weak. So how was it that on the night of her birth, she was continuously hunted? On the night of her twenty-first birthday, she had reached the pre-adulthood of her Oni life, she was still just a child in the Oni world, but she had reached the peak of her adolescence. It was something to be excited for, but not for her.

It will never be for her.

A strangled cry left her as she tumbled over a trap, she hissed in pain as the wire wrapped around her ankle digging into her alabaster skin. She wanted to cry out and sob but that would give them a lead to finding her. They were already so close. She could see the dim lights of the torches nearing her and hear the shouts of anger and excitement in the air. She would not allow them to have her, she could not. With a shaky breath, she stood up ignoring the throbbing pain in her ankle and pressed on. She moved through the alleys as silently as possible. She made sure to leave nothing disturbed, for she feared that they would see her. Hear her. Crimson hues glanced around at the fork in the path, contemplating which way was the best.

Anger and fear fueled her, giving her endless amounts of stamina or perhaps it was the adrenaline that was pumping through her veins, she wasn't sure at this point. It had been this way since she was three. Her stepfather had burst into her chambers, shouting nonsense in his inebriated state, rousing her from her slumber. Her scalp was still tender as he had dragged her out of the compound by her long raven tresses. She had learned that struggling was futile, so she merely allowed herself to be taken away. Once outside he tossed her at the feet of the villagers, some stepped back in fear while other gripped their weapons of death and torture tighter. Every year she would see the faces of young boys in the crowd, as if the Hunt was a rite of passage for them. It made her feel sick.

At least they had been kind and given her a chance to run and hide from them, instead of immediately chasing her. But she did not need that time; she would have out run them in the beginning. This time merely allowed her to run for the edge of the village. She would hide in the thick woods that enclosed her village off from the mainland. She would hide there until dawn broke, then she would return home. Her father would be disappointed again this year, as he always was. She could see the hatred and anger in those dark eyes already. It gave her a great deal of satisfaction to know that she would not die and he would not be happy. Though she would be punished for not dying, as she always was, but she would not die. No, her father could never bring himself to kill her, not matter how many times he had tried.

He needed her, but for what reasons? Well, it was nothing something that she wished to discuss, though most villagers speculated why she was still alive. Why she was still allowed to live in the Tsukino compound. She was like a porcelain doll, a beautifully sculpted jewel. She was the pride of her late mother and the shame of her father, all at the same time. She had smooth, creamy, white skin, petite frame, large ruby eyes, long ebony locks, and the body that most men, especially the ones nearing her father's age, desired. Yes, she was kept for one reason and one reason only, but it was too shameful to say. She could not fight it, for she was beaten for even resisting the slightest hints of want from her father and his colleagues. She shivered thinking about all the Hell that she went through. It may have been better to be caught and killed. Then she could finally be free.

But her pride would not allow it.

Turning left at the fork, she could see the exit of the village, the ark tree line of the forest. For a few hours she would be free, the villagers feared the forest as much as they feared her, especially at night. She did not care for what lay in the woods, as long as she was never found by them. She would brave the terrors that lurked in the foliage. With a burst of speed she moved to the exit. Perhaps she had been too confident with her abilities, because she missed the trap that had been step up. Her dirty, bare feet stepped on the wire and an onslaught of explosions went off. She let out a shriek dodging what she could base on instinct. Wires wrapped around random parts of her body. She wheezed out for air as a wire constricted around her throat.
Pitching forward, she felt tears burn her eyes, she cursed the villagers. There was a buzzing in her ears as the lack of oxygen was making her feel light headed. She could faintly hear the villagers shouting for joy, she closed her eyes in pain, trying to relieve the blocked windpipe. She could not die here, she just couldn't. It was unfair, she had been isolated in her room all her life and she had only been a few steps away from freedom. She struggled weakly against her restraints, trying to keep herself moving. If she could make it to the forest then she would be fine. She crawled to her knees, slowly standing; she wobbled and moved forward, her vision blurring. She was yanked back, her hands pulling at the wire digging into her skin. She landed with a hard impact; she writhed on the ground as she was slowly pulled back towards the village.

The heat of the torches could be felt; she could hear the shouts of joy filling the air. This was it, the Hunt was over. She hadn't escaped in time. Tears rolled down the corner of her eyes as she continued to be pulled back into the village. This is not of she wanted to die, she wanted to die with some pride. Though she assumed that she was not worthy of such things. Kami-sama had already marked her for death since the day she was born; she had lost faith in him. Her bruised body slid across the ground, ruining the white kimono slip that she had been sleeping in, scratching and bruising her pale skin. She groaned as she felt rocks being thrown at her, spit landing on her, and sometimes a few kicks to her ribs.

"We should burn the Oni whore," one of the villagers roared out.

He was answered with cheers of agreement. She closed her eyes, realizing that tonight was the night that she would be sent to Hell, where she belonged. She felt like sobbing, retching out her heart, though her tears had long run out, she merely gave up. It was obvious that she was meant to die, alone and defiled. It was a shame that she could never know what true happiness was. It was a shame that she had never met a friendly face. She had only ever wanted to experience the joys of life, but she had been hated for just even breathing.

The bells of her death rang once more. She let out a sigh, accepting the fate that was being brought upon her.