She was stunning.
Soft, inviting mocha lips seemed perpetually pursed. Long, lucious chestnut hair framed her flawles caramel complection, surpassed only by her warm brown, almond shaped eyes. He watched and ached for her, to touch her, hold her, -take- her. He'd never seen the likes of her before, but assumed she was with the other asians. There were more of them these days, and the dogs didn't seem to like the americans. They could go back to China for all he cared, but they paid well, so he kept his mouth shut.
She wore a soft rose tonight. Her voluptuous form was wrapped skin tight in the supple silk, it made him rock hard just to look at her. Her english was harsh and broken, not that he cared what she had to say. Women like her were good for only one thing, and he would get it, if he had to hold her down and take it himself.
She inhaled deeply, her lucious chest heaving as her dead lungs filled with stagnant air. To any it would seem completely normal, but to her, it ached. She longed to breathe, to live again, but such would not happen. Her life had ended violently over four decades previous, though the chi coursing through her undead veins kept her well preserved. She looked no more then twenty, and really she wasn't. Sold to a geisha mother at the tender age of eleven, it was not much unlike being sold into slavery. By twelve, her virginity had been taken, ripped from her along with her innocence. She lived the life of a whore, an entertainer. She had no freedom, no purity, no comfort. She was a product of her surroundings, and nothing more. Never had she known happiness, desire was a sin. She was a servant, and though paid well, freedom of choice was a luxury she could not afford. Love was a lie, passion was unforgivable. She was kept physically safe, for a time being.By her 19th birthday, she had been hired to perform at a certain business party. Having attempted to decline due to the attitude of the rather infamous host, she had been prevented by her Geisha mother. The night finally came, and proceeded rather pleasently, until the guests began to leave. The host, a Yakuza of rather high ranking, attempted to take her, unwillingly. She fought him, clinging dearly to her life and celibacy. Her soul became so enraged with his force that it split, and a demon inhabited her, though even he couldn't help her at this point. The Yakuza slaughtered her, heartlessly and dumped her lifeless, bloody body in the harbor, believeing it was to be the end of her.
He had never been so wrong.
Her soul had visited Yomi, the fabled hell of the Japanese. There, it had endured tortures to horrible to imagine. They ripped her to shreds, only to sew her back together to play the cruel game again and again. There is no pain like Yomi, its exquisite agony is burned within you forever.
Unless of course you escape.
She did, in time. Her split soul returned, clawing through the Yomi realms, avoiding the treacherous demons known as the Yama Kings, and in one final agonizing effort, her soul joined her dead husk, and gave her second breath.
When she retruned, revenge was hers. In a blind rage, she found her attacker, and for days feasted upon his sweet flesh, keeping the son of a bitch in a half state of life and death, she fed hungrily on his raw skin and bones. On the fourth day he slipped from the land of the living and she devoured the rest of his corpse.
She had been found by a local Japanese court and converted finally to a Dharma. She had become controlled, once again, and she found her place. After months of difficult training, she proved to be a particularly gifted student.
Of course, in death her passions blew sky high. Everything that she had been denied in life, Lust, greed, hunger and passion became all consuming in death. They ruled her. She became messy and vulgar, rude and confrontational. A restless dragon in the truest sense, she was never the less a powerful opponent. Though her understanding of the arts seemed great as well as her ability to learn, she was not exactly wise. Having feasted near Nagasaki, the demon child had ingested defiled chi, a curse that haunts one for the rest of her unlife.
She left Japan 10 years after her re-birth, in search of conquest in the Americas. Land of oppurtunuties, they called it. Though she didn't believe it. She had arrived there and wandered for many years, streching her imagination and experiencing everything she could find, such was the way of the Thrashing dragon. Reality is a rainbow. Illusionary, but too colorful to ignore. Half life was an abominable state, their goal is to become alive as possible.
And here she was, thirty years later, still fighting for conquest and enlightenment.
She grinned faintly, her eyes sliding up his form as he served her a drink. She smelled sweet, the faint haunting scent of lotus blossoms seemed to follow her, he found that enticing. Her eyes sparkled with musky excitement, and he guessed she wanted him. She would have him, he knew, whether she wanted it so or not.
He wasn't an unattractive man, and he had his own share of women. Sandy brow hair and dark emerald eyes gave him that 'all american' appeal so many woman seemed to chase, and though his face was pockmarked from adolescent acne, women didn't seem to notice. A large built frame from years as a varsity quarterback hadn't hurt his game either. She wet her lips and he stirred, tilting his own head as she leaned in, whispering close.
'I want you..'
He nodded, grinning widely. So it had begun, the chase was underway. He nodded again finally, his hungry green eyes molesting her supple form, down her hips, murmuring in response. His breath was hot, and acrid. He probably smoked, she noted.
'I know you do baby. I get off in an hour.'
She nodded, pleasently as he leaned back, resisting the urge to wrinkle her nose in disgust. She would buy him mints, or something. Anything to make it more pleasurable.