You only have time to snatch a quick breath before water erupts around you, pouring into your still shrieking mouth, flinging itself into your eyes. You cough and splutter, gulping down even more. It tastes like tears left out in the cold. Your legs flail as you search for the bottom, more octopus than human.
A domain?
You're freezing, shivering, and as you open your eyes to the murky darkness, you sense another presence in the shadows. Turning your head, you find yourself face-to-face with the Curse. A black horse, with a coat shining like sealskin, its eyes burning like coals in the darkness.
The Curse squeals.
Currents twist around you like a nest of snakes. The water boils and bubbles. The waters are angry, and dark with danger. You can't even swim. The waters are so dark and wild, so strong, that your body is spun and dragged along by the lashing current.
Think, think. You refuse to die like this. Slaughter Demon is tucked away, in the inside pocket of your jacket. With trembling fingers, you pull it out and grasp it in your hands. The weight of the weapon in your hands is reassuring. Prickles scurry up your arms as if the energy contained within the blade seeps into your skin and trammels through your veins.
Your course of action is simple, really. Fight. Exorcise the Curse. Get back to Yuta and Inumaki. You wrap yourself around the same silent mantra, the words repeating and reverberating through you. Fight. Live. Exorcise. Return to Yuta and Inumaki.
Come on, come on. Your lungs begin to burn and scream for air. You know what happens to drowning victims. Burst lungs, a collapsed heart. Your legs kick feebly, but it's like trying to swim in a dream. You know the Curse is near. You know it's only a few feet in front of you. You know it's poised to attack. I'm here. Devour me.
Another squeal.
Two hooves catch you in the chest. You hear a crack, and feel hooked talons sinking into your chest. The water runs red with blood. You open your mouth, screaming soundlessly when the skin and muscle are split apart. The Curse buries its claws deeper into you, and opens its mouth, revealing a maw full of jagged, gleaming teeth. Your vision blurs and you struggle against unconsciousness as pain threatens to overwhelm you.
You can't use your Technique.
Not yet.
Mentally taking a deep breath, you muster all your strength and force your arms to move, lifting the knife in a blindingly swift motion. You strike its face with a series of rapid blade strokes, tearing flesh and crunching through bone. Desperation drives your limbs, working them up into a frenzy. You attack with renewed focus. Your eyes roll white and wild, and your lips are twisted up into what might be a smile, with bared teeth and claws and venom.
You don't feel like yourself.
More unhinged.
Definitely wilder.
The Curse screeches and spends the last of its strength clawing at you, tearing through clothes and flesh. You don't shy away, locked in its fatal embrace. Your body embraces the pain, welcomes it home like an old friend, and you draw on this energy, raining blows down onto the Curse. Your smile never falters.
You stab at it again, and again, until the surrounding waters are blooming with blood.
Splash!
You take a ragged, coughing breath, realising that you can breathe freely. Your body shakes and pain racks you. Waves of exhaustion beat at you as you slip Slaughter Demon back into its sheathe. The domain is gone. The Curse lies beside you, its remains piles of seaweed and foam. Rivulets of water drip from your hair into your eyes. Your uniform has been shredded beyond belief, leaving your bare skin and tender wounds exposed to the cold air. Trying to call out for help is useless; only a croak slips past your lips.
