Naraku: A Horror Hellfare

A Spark Of Hope

The storm, evermore, mirrored Ran's emotional turmoil. As his desperation increased, so did the intensity of the rain and wind. It served as a backdrop that emphasized his internal struggle more than he could put words to.

Master Sei’s voice remained calm and measured in his memory, contrasting with his emotional outbursts, which further underscored the monk’s unyielding stance on fate. 

It was disarming, and Ran hated the fact that he was starting to hate it.

Just as much as he was starting to hate the silence. A remembered silence filled only with the faint sound of incense and chanting monks. 

A silence which created a heavy, almost oppressive atmosphere, highlighting the finality of the monk's refusal.

He’d taken his leave, without even the consideration of a farewell. He was angry and did not wish to see the Monk’s face again. He felt like a failure, a lost boy in a large universe.

The soft crackling of a dying fire reached his ears, followed by a low wind whistling through the monastery, carrying the faint sound of chanting monks.

‘I came hoping for answers, and now... there are none.’ He thought, resigned. ‘The monk refused.’

His footsteps were heavy, echoing off the stone walls as he walked slowly through the monastery’s dim corridors, heading for the exit. The wind picked up outside, swirling through open windows.

Master Sei, firm but measured, had told him that his father was where he was meant to be. His life led him to Naraku. He'd claimed that it was not for Ran to change his fate.

His words had been unwavering, as if carved in stone.

The memory faded, replaced by Ran’s slow exhale. He wished to think no more of it, but could not stop remembering, even if it was not yet even a minute ago. 

His breathing was shallow, weighed down by disappointment. Outside, rain started to fall once more, tapping lightly against the windows.

He was starting to hate the rain too. Dark humor surged in him as he thought that right there was one quality hell would not have: rain.

Hell, Naraku. It made him think of his father again. His internal voice was enraged as he thought further. ‘Fate... that’s all it is, isn’t it?’

‘No matter what I do, no matter how much I fight…’ There was a pause and his steps even faltered for a moment. ‘...he’s gone.’

The heavy monastery doors creaked open as he stepped outside. The rain poured down harder now, drenching him instantly, the cold biting into his skin.

He basked in the familiar experience he'd been through only the previous day. Apparently, there wasn't going to be a third time as it seemed like this was going to be his final visit to the monastery.

‘Maybe I was wrong... maybe there’s nothing I can do,’ he thought in absolute despondence.

His footsteps dragged through the mud, sluggish as he made his way toward the village. Thunder rumbled in the distance, a low growl, as if the heavens were mocking his despair.

Suddenly, there was a faint rustle behind him. A figure approached, footsteps quick but quiet. Ran stopped, turning slightly.

"Wait... please,” the figure called, voice soft, as he spoke with a gentle hesitation.

The rain continued, though it seemed quieter as the figure steps closer, his voice cutting through the downpour. Ran turned to see it was a young acolyte, his robes soaked but his expression resolute.

“Hello, I'm Sōran Haru,” he said, sounding apologetic but firm, and continued  “I overheard your conversation with Master Sei. I know he turned you away, but... I believe I can help you.”

Ran stood still, the rain falling around him, creating a moment of silence between them.

Ran, his voice hoarse and weary, responded. "Why? You heard what he said. He won’t help me... he thinks it’s impossible."

Haru stepped closer, his voice lowering as if revealing something secretive.

"He believes in fate. But I... I don’t. I’ve studied under him for years, but there are things I’ve learned... things he refuses to acknowledge. I know a way to get you into Naraku,” the teenage looking acolyte said, voice quiet, but determined.

Ran’s breath hitched, a flicker of hope ignited in the darkness of his thoughts. The rain continued to pour, but the atmosphere seemed to shift as Haru’s words sank in.

"You know a way?" Ran replied, gingerly, in disbelief.

Sōran Haru, nodding, seriously spoke.

"There are old rituals, forgotten by most. Master Sei won’t perform them, but I... I’ve read the scrolls. I know the incantations. They could open a path, one that doesn’t rely on fate."

Haru paused, hesitant to say the next piece, but managed to soldier on  “And we will have help.”

Ran was certainly curious now. Was it possible that there was a Monk who may want to help them? Or was Haru talking about something else.

“I have a sister,” Haru strived on. “She is a Lilim,” he claimed boldly.

Ran took a step back in fright, his eyes widening. Fear overcame him briefly and it took great effort to push it back.

Lilims were not ordinary beings. They were the children of Satan, the Arch Devil, and Lilith, the first Demoness.

Lilims are extremely powerful and as far as Ran was aware, they all resided in Naraku. 

His thoughts became contemplative: 

‘Hmm, now I understand why he believes that we will have help. If his sister is in Naraku then she will be able to help us with whatever ritual we need to access the realm of hell.’

The rain softened slightly, as if holding its breath along with Ran. His heart began to race, the possibilities swirling in his mind.

‘Could this be real? Could it be this simple?’ He asked himself, conflicted. ‘But... What if it’s a lie? What if...?’

"Why would you help me? You barely know me." Ran hesitant, but curious, asked.

Haru’s robes shifted as he took a step closer, his voice lowering with intensity.

Serious, he answered, whispering intensely. "Because I know what it feels like to lose someone. I’ve seen what Naraku can do. If you’re willing to fight against it, I’ll fight with you."

There was another rumble of thunder, but this time it felt more distant. Ran stared at Haru, trying to read his sincerity, his mind racing with doubt, but also... hope.

"Then... you’re saying you can help me get my father back?" Ran asked, his voice trembling with both fear and hope.

There was a brief pause, the rain fills the silence.

Sōran Haru, his voice firm, assured the younger boy. "I’m saying I can help you get there. The rest... that will be up to you."

Ran stood frozen for a moment, his thoughts swirling. The rain slowed to a drizzle, barely more than a light mist now, as if the storm itself was listening intently.

‘It’s not over. Maybe... maybe it never was.’ His thoughts became steady in rumination.

His boots splashed in the muddy ground as he took a step forward, his voice growing stronger.

"Tell me what I have to do."