"I suppose it is my fault, for the darkness within me," she mused to herself, turning in the light cast by her own ghostly aura, watching the light catch against the black chains of the lock. The lock was nestled between her breasts, and a thin chain ran up over each shoulder as though they were straps; one chain ran around her ribs, right below her breasts; the third and fourth chains circled around her hips and returned. She tried to make the lock budge, but it was completely unyielding. She could still move: her flexibility was not much hindered.
"Good thing no one sees me like this," she added, with the faintest hint of a smile. Memories locked inside her. No one, as far as she knew, had ever been close enough to her to feel the lock's addition. No one that she could imagine ever would be. She was beginning to feel completely insane: now and again, voices, snippets would slip across her mind. Memories. Fire, pain, longing; wings, fog, a torn heart.
she heard a voice: Who do you think you are?
Her hands folded into a kuji-kiri. "I am not one who is hunted easily," she replied, her silver eyes narrowing. She did, nevertheless, turn to look at her shadow: it was twisted, shifting, dark; her pain come home to roost. The figure who manifested was tall, robed, holding a staff, with gleaming red eyes.
She listened to it tell her that she had forgotten, and that the truth would come to her.
Her core already called for Revenge, but she did not know this, not yet. The fragments of her heart thought that this was familiar, and yet not. One way or another, she would not fall to its influences. She would find the power to overcome it.
