Three days have passed, Prime sat motionless in her cold cell, both arms dangling horizontally on both sides. The metal collar a heavy weight on her neck.
The dress, that was once beautiful and elegant, was now torn due to slashing and bloodied with her own blood— the color melding with the darkness. Her face also felt itchy. The blood in her forehead has mixed up with the sweat and it trickled down her cheeks, so the mask felt uncomfortable as it stick to her face. The Oni would not even bother helping her remove it, instead they find joy in watching that masked face lose its past arrogance.
Right now, she looks like a god that has fallen from grace. Her almighty and proud self has now turned into someone who's slowly losing herself, but not completely. It can't be. There is no way she's letting the Oni win, she'll use every possible way to remain sane.
The pain, yes, the burning sensation on her back is what's keeping her mind intact, reminding her that she is still alive, breathing. That no matter how many times the Oni whip her back and heal it just to slash it again with that bloodied leather, they won't be able to tame her, because, every minutes that passed she counted all the 'good deeds' the Oni had done to her then revenge will follow.
Revenge that has long been sitting cold. It was prepared a long time ago and when the time comes she will served it on a silver platter.
Prime sneered as the other prisoners looked at her emotionless. Their eyes no longer hold the pity nor contempt they used to look at her before. They are now all on the same boat, coursing through the same water that will soon consume them whole— like an abyss and it will drown them in eternal darkness.
It was their fate, an inevitable one.
But Prime is hell-bent on freeing herself from that shackles of fate. She will defy this so called destiny because she's the only one who can control and no one else. Not even the Oni.
Screw them!
A few hours ago she already realized what the Oni really means when they told her they want her body: that's she just a vessel marked by them.
That time the cell remained quiet, nobody talked however that's always been the case there. They communicated with each other through their eyes, blinking to answer and ask questions and they understood each other— their pain, suffering... Just by looking at each other they have formed some kind of bond, perhaps because they were desperate to let someone know or that tacit understanding between them is what's making the light in their eyes remain burning.
However, one of them was about to lose that light.
The Oni guards came again, not for Prime, but for the young man just a few steps away from her cell. This time they did not drag him out. They entered the cold cell and the young man struggled and thrashed at them but his strength is no longer capable of fighting back.
The two guards held him down while the leader removed the hood that's covering his head, only to reveal a frail looking face with a blood trickling down his nose. He looks sickly and weak.
Prime stared wide-eyed at the leader. He looks familiar, so familiar that she immediately recognized his face. Not too long ago, he was still a prisoner when the Oni has dragged him out and never be seen again.
They do not know what happened, they assumed that he died, yet he's here— alive. His face might look the same but the aura he gave off is completely different. And the smell, though Prime had grown accustomed at the rotten smell of the Oni, she still felt disgusted.
The leader bent forward then he clutched the young man's jaw, his gaze lifelessly boring into him.
"This body of mine is incompatible, " He said, his voice rough and small. "I hope yours will do."
He opened his mouth and black fog emerged from it. The fog flew towards the young man's face, invading his mouth, his nose, and his ears, and he felt like a claw made its way towards his mind. It crawl and crawl then it scratching the last wall of defense he tried so hard to maintain. The young man struggled again but those claws finally reached up to him, it pulled him down until an abyss drowned him. It imprisoned him unto its own darkness.
Prime watched in bated breath as the leader fell to the ground with a thud, and the two guards freed the young man of their iron grip.
The young man stood up while checking his body. Now his eyes became lifeless but his lips revealed a slight trace of mockery.
"Perfect." He whispered, then he looked up only to met those dreaded eyes of a woman.
"P-possession." Prime stuttered in disbelief.
"Don't worry. Soon your time will come too. You should be thankful."
The Oni left and a heavy silence surrounded the whole underground. Prime shut her eyes and forced herself to remain calm and steady, but the scene kept replaying in her mind. A bile rised up in her throat, and she vomitted. The bitter aftertaste making her want to puke even more but her stomach protested for there is nothing in it anymore. The Oni only feed them once a day, just to make sure they still have some energy left to endure the beating.
Prime took a deep breath before gradually calming down. She breathed then counted from one to ten, then she'll start from the beginning again. It has been a routine for her, the counting, because that's the pattern used by Black every time he whipped her.
One to ten, then he'll pause for a second just to start slashing again for ten times.