The Eyes of the Oni

Chapter #1: The Oni

He could barely remember how he had gotten there. Knocked out? Drugged, perhaps? He felt like it was all a big movie, as if everything was a play with a script and it would all go away soon. Dakota could still feel the sharp stabbing in his back, which happened to be a traditional method in tattooing by the Japanese, used to signify ones ranking in status. It wasn't as bad as branding, but it was a long and painful process. Dakota remembered it clear as day, as he laid on his stomach to heal, he closed his eyes and breathed slowly.

"You see this, Naomi?" The man said, holding him by his hair.

"My name's Dakota!" He yelled, spitting on him.

He let go of his hair and slapped him, pulling his black locks to show him another prisoner. The male was skinny and looked at if he was on a hunger strike, apparently he was a new member or he had been there longer than Dakota.

"This is Ayso. He's been here for six years, when he got his tattoo he moved." The slimmer man turned his back and the demon like tattoo was disorientated with scars. "We like to keep our Oni tattoos clean, so I'd advise not moving so much. People with ugly tattoos usually end up being someone's bitch."

They held him down, not caring if he was uncomfortable. And on the inside Dakota was scared, he missed his sister, he missed his mother, he missed when his father would tell him to be strong at times like this.

The first few pokes were as painful as ever, but soon he became numb. He felt warm tears pour from his eyes as he gritted his teeth.

There was no break: lines, color and shading were added. Next to him laid blood covered gauzes, as they began to wipe down the tattoo getting rid of the excess ink. He opened his eyes when his head was lifted.

"You're such a good boy, doing what you're told."

"Fuck you!"

"That's alright, we can fix that attitude..."

"That's enough, Lee." said a deep voice.

"Yes, Master Silvio."

"You're not going to tend to his wounds?" Silvio asked the artist, "We're not savages, Koto."

"Yes, Master..." He said, rubbing some kind of ointment on the tattoo, for a moment it stung, but after that it calmed the radiating pain.

Silvio pulled a chair up and sat in front of Dakota, they stared at each other before making conversation.

"You must be the man behind this, I'm not getting paid am I?"

"What is that suppose to mean?"

"What's your fucking deal?" He asked, "That's what it means."

"You will lose your attitude and you will become a loyal Samurai. That's my deal. You seem already fit, you've proven your powers, but you're still not ready. Take him to heal."

With that he left, and Dakota was taken to a cell. It was an ordinary cell, he could easily get out, but there was someone else's life on the line...Luna's.

So, there he was, healing until he met his demise. He tried to sleep, but it was no use, when he heard the cell door open. His heart started to race, not knowing who it was or what was to come. He quickly turned over and backed away to see a male much like him in size with longer black hair and a tattooed arm. Tattoos were a bit too common.

"Dinner is ready..." He simply said, the person was a prisoner.

"Alright," He simply breathed, his back began to hurt.