Crowns with Blood:The Monarchy

Chapter I: Venomous dreams

Dreams; vivid, dark, and mind shattering. The same scenes kept repeating like a broken video tape. Haunting his peaceful nights and leaving him in a shivering sweaty body. Screaming his lungs out, ripping his vocal cords like wolves' claws.

Hoards of martyr men, surging through the walls. Blindly accepting their death with open arms. Swords drawn, guns fired and bodies lay dead. Twisted smiles and lifeless limbs mangled and surrounded his scarred body. They all died, protecting him, making sure he lives and avenges all of their sacrificed lives. "He's our only hope, the last of the blessed ones, the last of the chosen men of the great serpent."

Those words rang through Kaito's mind every time he wakes up. Those scenes flashed before his eyes upon looking up to his marble ceiling. Sweat drenching his night clothes and bed sheets, nail marks on his mahogany bed remain as if they bear those traumatic nights for the young lad, tortured emotional and mentally by his ugly scars.

"Osho-sama, your breakfast is ready; would you prefer coffee or tea today?" A low clear voice cut through his horrid imaginations, his butler, Venin asked a daily routine question in his usual may-i-take-your-order tone.

"Well let's see... I might have tea for today Venin." He replayed getting off his bed and getting ready for his changed life in school.

"Certainly, young master." Venin took a sharp turn to the left as if he disappeared out of sight.

The great Serpent, the sign of nobility, and tyrant kings. Those who would sacrifice their lives, men and people that means most to them, to reach the top. However, how could a sweet, shy, innocent and a loving boy like Kaito descend from these men? After all "Kira-o" doesn't fit him well.

Kira-o, killer, the King. A title given to him at fifteen, the first time he shed blood with his own hands, using his tainted katana meant for justice.

Speaking of the devil, it was locked up in one of the deepest rooms at the heart of his maze like manor. Left to rust and crumble along with its unforgivable sin, as if it would decay through time, after all it was left by the serpent itself, it was meant to last until the last bloodline of these chosen men withered and died.

"Osho-sama, you've been staring at the wall way too long, are you ill?" The same clear voice of Venin rang through the hallways resonating and snapping him out of his trance.

"It is nothing Venin, go on and prepare for my departure, I must face my new school, after all this was the order of my noble father." Kaito gestured walking down the hall to finish his food and leave for this so called school.

Venin was puzzled at first, the young master is mostly found alert and well, he was well trained to feel his surrounding and be swift in battle. Venin could feel it, his master's body weakened; he feels every sorrow kept inside his master's mind, and heart. Clawing at his own as if their one, yet Venin doesn't feel human emotions, after all he is just a mere puppet of the humble master.

Kira-o was humble enough to give effort on making Venin into what he is now. To give Venin a human body that speaks, thinks and lives on his own. A body with no heart or soul, a weapon meant to be used by the young master. Treated oh so lovingly and almost resembles a master's love to a faithful dog. A pet he would cry for if found dead, and search for the culprit with rage in his soul.

Thirty seconds. Thirty seconds was what it took for the young king to reassemble his new toy. A small fist size colorful Rubik's cube, was fully solved at the palm of his hands. His jet black hair flying all over the place as he lay on the back seat comfortably, trying to snooze a couple of minutes on the way to school. Venin sat on the front seat taking glances at his master making sure that every time the vehicle takes a sharp turn, or suddenly stops, his master won't suddenly fall off the seat. It would not be nice for the public eye to see the graceful and idolized Osho-sama of his, fail miserably from falling off the seat with drool on his chin.