Beneath a dreary, overcast sky in the very early morning, a lone woman carried a bundle of herbs and flowers in her lacquered basket. Her long, black hair was tied into a very neat bun, and her pristine, white kimono was snugly wrapped around her body. A baby bump beneath her robes indicated she was at least six months pregnant.
She kept her basket pressed against her left side while she gently rubbed her belly with her right hand, as if to sooth her precious baby. Eager to bring the herbs back to her home, she sauntered down the tree-shrouded, dirt road.
The rope holding her sandals together began to dig into her feet, tenderizing the skin and bruising their webbing. It was a beautifully peaceful walk filled with the gentle whisper of the morning breeze and the surviving aroma of the rain that passed in the night.
Her peaceful return to her village became one of great horror as she emerged from the tree line, and was greeted by two great pillars of black smoke billowing from her home. Her eyes widened in shock as she ran towards the village, spotting a bleeding, young woman against the rear wall of one of the homes.
The young woman was coated in blood, staining her kimono and puddling in the congealed mud around her. Her pupils dilated, the young woman sluggishly tried to speak, reaching her hand out.
“Noriko…Run…”
The young woman fell limp as the light left her eyes. Noriko had the foresight to slap her hand over her mouth as she saw the corpse, the first she had ever seen in her life. Her frightened shrieks and gasps would’ve given her away at a murder scene that was visibly fresh. Her racing heart was ready to jump right out of her chest, or lodge itself in her throat.
A haunting cacophony of screams up ahead prompted her to take cover against the wall, still trying her best to keep as quiet as possible. She heard a set of multiple footsteps, assessing that the people ahead were not wearing sandals or any typical footwear common in the village.
Their steps were heavy, plodding against the ground with considerable force and metallic resonance. She knew the group ahead must’ve been armored, either a band of brigands or members of a military force. Her ears she picked up the continued sound of dragging accompanying the screams. Bodies dragged against the dirt, all of them being collected at one place, against their will.
She dared, against her instincts, to peer a little over the wall to confirm what she was hearing. The first thing she saw as she slowly inched her face past the wall were her fellow villagers rounded up with their hands tied behind their backs. Next to them were several armored soldiers, all of them wielding spears in their hands and sheathed swords at their hips.
More soldiers in the distance were dragging villagers out of their homes, ripping children away from crying mothers, killing their fathers and brothers right in front of them. There was senseless murder at every corner.
She returned her attention to the group of soldiers closest to her. She could see the rage and blood-thirst in their eyes. It was as if the black-clad soldiers were possessed by demons. Safe from the war and upheaval tearing the rest of the country apart, Noriko never had a reason to fear anyone. She never could’ve dreamed of the day that would all change.
The troops forced their hostages to sit on their knees, lined up in a row facing one of the enraged soldiers.
“Which one of you was it? Who tipped them off? Was it you? You? Answer me, damn it!” the soldier screamed.
Noriko’s eyes widened in horror as she saw the confused, helpless expressions on the faces of the villagers. Drunk with aimless rage, the spearmen each kicked a villager down to the ground, stabbing them through their backs as the mud muffled their dying screams. Noriko immediately turned away from the slaughter, gasping through her hand as tears streamed down her pale face.
She slowly crept over to the right, peering over the edge in search of a way around the ongoing killing. Even more corpses were sprawled across the ground, all of them caked in dirt and congealing blood. She scanned around for any sight of her older brother, something that was hard to make out with most of the corpses either facing the other way or face-down completely.
Knowing it was imperative that she delivered those herbs to her brother, she stepped forward, one silent, cautious step at a time, moving quickly between the gaps between the houses so the soldiers on the other side wouldn’t spot her. Knowing she could share the same fate as her screaming, dying neighbors made her even more careful not to be seen or detected in any manner.
Having made it across to the next building safely, she continued and crept towards the next house, stopping dead in her tracks as the door to the building flung open. The door opened outwards, blocking her from the view of the two soldiers stepping out.
She quickly scuffled back behind the wooden house, just shy of the door. The infuriated swordsmen threw the civilians they captured to the ground, a teenage girl cowering behind her elderly grandfather.
“Please, don’t hurt her!” the grandfather tearfully pleaded. “We don’t know anything!”
“You bastards are the only ones who could’ve possibly given out our travel route! One of you knows something! And I swear we’re going to find out which one of you did it!” one of the swordsmen growled.
“This is madness! You’ve all lost your minds!” the grandfather cried. “The Senkumo clan said they would protect us! You regularly purchase grain from us! Why would we betray you? We don’t know who ambushed you!”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Enough of your god damned lies!”
Noriko couldn’t see it happen, but she could clearly hear the swordsman withdraw his blade from its scabbard, followed by the horrified scream of the young girl as the sound of ripping flesh and dying sighs echoed through the air. The old man was the first to be slain. Soon after that, the girl’s cries were silenced as well, her blood streaming into Noriko’s view.
“Lying bastards” the swordsman mocked.
She listened closely to the sounds of their footsteps growing more and more distant as they regrouped with their comrades on the other side of the village, giving her the chance to move again. Seeing the bloodied body of the young girl laying on top of the old man, she swallowed her grief and helpless regret, focusing only on finding her brother.
She crept over across to the next building, her heart stopping as one of the doors across the street flung open. The two soldiers stepping out spotted her creeping around, yelling out to her as she tried to run.
“Hey! You! Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
Forced to let go of her basket, she bolted through the street as fast as she could, constantly looking behind her as the two quickly caught up to her. The closer they got to her, the more she screamed for someone, anyone, to help her.
One of the armored swordsmen tackled her to the ground, losing his grip on her as they crashed into the mud. She quickly pushed herself back onto her feet, grabbing hold of a bucket filled with rainwater next to her. She threw the bucket at the soldier on the floor, distracting him for only a moment as she continued to run for her life and her baby’s.
“I’ll fucking kill you! You’re dead!” the soldier screamed.
The two soldiers pursued her relentlessly. Catching up to her, one of them struck Noriko in the face with a metal hammer, drawing blood from her right eye socket. She was knocked right down to the ground, screaming in pain as one of the swordsmen sat on top of her and pinned down her legs. The other soldier grabbed hold of her hair, screaming into her face with the bloodied hammer in his hands.
“Thought you were fucking sneaky, huh?” he angrily growled, passing the hammer to the other soldier. “Break her ribs!”
They tore her kimono off of her body as she tried with all of her might to fight them off. Her forlorn efforts did nothing to stop them from stripping her naked.
“Hey! She’s pregnant! She’s got some nice breasts on her too! Nice and plump!” the other soldier teased.
The both of them laughed at her as she struggled, one of them forcing her legs open while the other held down her arms.
“Get off of me! I’m begging you, please stop!” Noriko sobbed.
The swordsman on top of her leaned in to whisper in her ear. “You’re gonna die after this, so just sit back.”
It was then that she noticed the black, Senkumo robes underneath his plated armor, a clan that was supposed to protect the village from warring lords. She followed her first instinct, and with all her might, bit down on the swordsman’s ear, pulling it away from his head until she ripped it off like a savage animal.
The other swordsman briefly released Noriko as he tended to his screaming comrade, holding onto the bleeding gash where his ear used to be. She quickly got up again, her mouth covered in his blood as she ran farther down the street. The other swordsman closed in on her by the village well, pushing her down on the ground and raising his hammer to strike her again.
“Feral bitch! I knew we were right to kill all of you!” the soldier howled.
Noriko covered her head with her arms as the soldier mercilessly beat her with the hammer, striking her arms, her legs, her feet, shoulders, and even her pregnant belly. She screamed in the most horrific fit of terror, hoping that someone would hear her cries and show her mercy. Each hammer strike cracked her bones and bloodied her skin until she was covered in mud, blood, and bruises. The swordsman wrapped his left hand around her neck to snuff out her screams, undoing his skirt of armor and kimono fold with the other.
She fought desperately to kick her legs, to hit any part of him in the hope that he would budge, but he was far too powerful for her in his fiery rage. He forcefully penetrated her after beating her knees with the hammer until she couldn’t even feel the pain anymore, thrusting and groaning as he choked her more tightly.
In that moment where all seemed lost, she could only do one thing. Pray. She prayed to see her baby live through this nightmare. She prayed to see her brother again. She prayed for forgiveness of her mortal sins. She prayed for a god, any god in earth, to save her from this torture.
His hand moved from her throat over to her breasts, squeezing on them tightly. With each thrust, the pain between her legs intensified, festered, and burned. She couldn’t believe it, even as she was right there, experiencing it for herself. She and her baby were going to die there, murdered by a clan she trusted.
All she felt was immense agony as the pain engulfed her entire body. Her eyes were bloodshot and her blood bit at her veins. It was like she was being eaten from the inside, consumed by ants or maggots.
Images of torn skin and flesh raced through her mind, her torn skin and flesh. Her entire body convulsed uncontrollably. Her head ran as hot as a kettle of tea as her mind drowned in a tidal wave of thoughts and emotions. Endless streams of tears stung her eyes while her sobs slurred her pleas to be spared. Her muddled cries for mercy fell on deaf ears, and her words became more indiscernible each time she repeated them. She was not going to be spared. No one was going to rescue her. No one was going to listen to her.
Those next few minutes each felt like individual lifetimes, as if Noriko was dying and reincarnating over and over again, reliving the same misery in each life. When he was done with her, the soldier’s hand slithered over to the hammer. The wounded swordsman returned with backup, holding onto his bleeding ear hole as he pointed at the wretch that dared to defend herself from him.
The other swordsman, content with his rape of Noriko, stood her up on her feet, forcibly walking her over to the village well. The other Senkumo soldiers followed close behind them, laughing and cheering as they gawked at Noriko’s battered body. The swordsman removed the bucket from the well and tied the rope around her neck instead, the crowd of enraged Senkumo soldiers violently cheering for her death.
“If I drop her, what do you think will give out first? The rope? Or her?” the swordsman asked.
“Her!” the Senkumo shouted in unison.
“Kill the whore already!” cheered one of the soldiers.
The swordsman pushed her feet off of the stone rim of the well, watching her as she clawed at the rope around her neck. With a simple pull of the well’s crank, Noriko plummeted into its dark depths, her screams fading as she sank into the abyss. Almost certain the rope would hold and her neck would break, the Senkumo troops were more than disappointed when the rope snapped, releasing Noriko without killing her.
However, her hard impact on the cavernous ground at the bottom of the well sent shockwaves down her entire body, no part more affected than her stomach. Unable to move her legs, she pushed herself up with her wobbling, battered arms, her mouth wide open in silent pain and mortification. She felt around her inner thigh with her fingers, bringing her hand back up to view to see that it was covered in blood. Her baby was in grave danger.