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    Kong Wen Hui
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Spirit of the Plum Blossom Tree (TSPBT) - 18. Chapter 18

Tried out my new incense while writing this chapter (★ω★)/
Trigger Warning: Mentions of Sexual/Physical Assault, Panic Attacks, Blood
I'm going to be honest, this chapter is not a pretty one. If psychological traumas are not your cup of tea, I would recommend skipping this chapter.

Hong Shen blinked slowly, allowing his eyes to adjust to his surroundings as his mind caught up. After a few seconds, he shut his eyes tightly, taking a deep shuddering breath as his heart started to race. Exhaling, he prayed that his mind was playing tricks on him, before opening his eyes once more to the same sight.

Cold light filtered from the cracks of the dark curtains over the window, reflecting over the floor length mirror on the far wall. A flat screen TV stood alone in the opposite corner, and the beige carpet was rough against his feet. An old office chair with the padded stuffing protruding from holes in the stained fabric was before the TV, facing his direction as his breathing started to become erratic.

His body was rigid with fear, and his heart was pumping so quickly Hong Shen thought it might tear from his chest. He did not want to look behind him, as though by ignoring it he could convince himself that the room he was in was just an illusion.

Trembling began in his fingertips, and he clenched his fists to try and stop it, only making it worse. His body was reacting to the weak emotions in his mind, and he ground his teeth together so tightly his jaw ached. Regardless, his body took a stiff step forward, and then another step. It was as if he was on autopilot, walking towards the full length mirror in front of him. As though the need to see and to verify what was behind him was overloading his sense of reason.

At last, he stood before the mirror, the darkness of the room seeming to weigh on his body as the musky scent of the room flooded his nostrils. Holding his breath, Hong Shen slowly lifted his gaze from the ragged carpet, seeing his reflection in the smudged glass. His head continued rising, past the dirty clothing and knotted ivory hair that belonged to Guan Hongye, past his eerily golden eyes and tense expression. Finally, his sight stopped on the two dark ropes hanging from the ceiling, the handcuffs dangling from their ends far above a plastic folding chair. Dark pools and splatters covered the chair, the blood rusting upon it along with the white spots of ejaculate residue he knew were surely mixed in.

His breath left him in a whoosh, and he leaned his head against the glass, beginning to hyperventilate as all rationality fled. He was no longer a strong and intimidating 23 year old criminal, no, he was a 14 year old boy again, trembling as he was locked away in the dark pleasure room of his foster father, tied up for hours at a time. Dreading the sound of the lock turning in the door, knowing by the angry footsteps that he was about to be subjected to intense sexual pain and left alone bleeding from his lower half until the man calmed down enough to whisper sweet condolences in his ear while bandaging him up.

Hong Shen’s legs gave out beneath him, and he slid to the ground, hugging his knees close to his chest as he struggled to get oxygen into his lungs. Shutting his eyes tightly, he tried to regulate his breathing like Wang Jin had taught him all those years ago, but his panic was uncontainable, like water from a dam that had been opened after several years.

Over the sound of his heavy breathing, there suddenly came a click from the door behind him, one he had heard many times before. His eyes shot open, wide as he covered his mouth with his hands, as though that would prevent the man from finding him. Footsteps sounded, and the sound of rustling fabric could be heard as someone moved.

“Wo de gou,” a familiar voice said by his ear, and a hand landed upon his shoulder. Immediately, Hong Shen bolted upright, as though struck by lightning. His hand swung out in a punch as if by instinct, his eyes wild like a cornered animal as he spun towards the American businessman in his usual suit. Right before his fist hit, however, the man seemed to flicker in and out of existence, causing his hand to go right through the man’s head.

Yanking back his hand, Hong Shen held it to his chest as he stumbled back, hitting the curtained window behind him. His jaw fell open as he watched the man continue to flicker, with varying horrifying expressions shifting across his features. It was disturbing, and it made him shiver as the blinds behind the curtains dug into his back.

The businessman took a stilted step towards him, and Hong Shen braced himself to have to fight, taking deep breaths to try and lessen his shaking. The stench of the room clung to his lungs like tar, making it difficult to regain control.

Before the man could take another step, a ripping sound echoed through the air, and the man’s torso was severed from his body. A hiss followed, before the man’s form seemed to wash out of existence, and a familiar figure stepped up in the place he once stood.

“Already falling for the tricks of a little mo, my arrogant guard?” Suan Ni brushed off his hands as leisurely as though he were brushing flour off his palms. The carpet beneath his bare feet melted away like acid had been poured upon it, and the entire room seemed to melt up from the floor, vanishing within moments.

All around them, the white expanse of the Yu could be seen, a soothing balm to Hong Shen’s frazzled nerves. Slowly, his trembling began to subside, his shoulders relaxing as rationality returned and he was finally able to return his breathing to normal. He hadn’t been thrown back to his own horrid past; he was still in Guan Hongye’s body, still 23 years old, and still in the process of completing some odd trial.

While he was gathering himself, Suan Ni had walked around him in a wide radius, occasionally stopping to sniff the air or mutter something while snapping his long fingers. He was still dressed as he was when Hong Shen had seen him during the ritual, though his golden hair seemed duller, less vibrant than it had seemed that night.

“... the fuck are you doing?” Hong Shen croaked, clearing his throat as he frowned at the dragon. Suan Ni ignored him, continuing to murmur something while moving his fingers as though he was sprinkling salt over a soup.

Perturbed, Hong Shen leaned down, slipping off one of his shoes and aiming it at Suan Ni’s head, throwing it as hard as he could. It stopped right before it could nail him, caught by a hand the dragon had twisted behind his back without looking.

“Is that any way to treat your savior?” Suan Ni finally turned around, his sharp red nails digging into the shoe, and it ignited with golden flames, crumbling to ashes in seconds. “You should be groveling at my feet in thanks right now.”

While he spoke, Suan Ni moved towards Hong Shen, letting the ashes fall from his fingers and disappear before they reached the ground. “I never thought I would be saving my guard from a pathetic illusionary mo, but I have to remind myself you aren’t truly my guard, now are you?”

“And you aren’t truly my contracted dragon, but who was the one who wanted me to accept him?” Hong Shen retorted, not backing down from the dragon in front of him. Suan Ni’s reptilian eyes flashed, though Hong Shen did not fear; his earlier terrified episode must have somehow built him a backbone against this ancient entity in his mind, even though he was surely more dangerous than his kinky American foster father.

After a tense moment, the dragon’s face split into a grin, his sharp teeth glistening within. “How exhilarating,” he said softly. A prickling feeling started on Hong Shen’s back, and he involuntarily shivered at the memory of the pain the mark caused.

Suan Ni abruptly spun around, throwing his arms wide as though he were hugging the air. “Shall we play a game?”

Hong Shen narrowed his eyes at him. “A game?”

“Yes, yes, a game.” Lowering his arms, Suan Ni suddenly sat down on a chair formed out of nothing, crossing his legs as he situated his robe to cover himself. “Come, sit down. We’ve been needing to talk face to face for a while now, but let’s liven it up a little with a game.”

As Hong Shen watched, the Yu began to change from the white expanse into a familiar living room. Hardwood floors flipped up along the floor, and cream colored walls seemingly constructed from the air. A few picture frames hung from the walls, and a plush brown couch with one leg missing stood across from the leather armchair Suan Ni was seated in. A mahogany coffee table with numerous scratches and dents was situated between the furniture, complete with the ceramic tea cup inlaid with vines and flowers upon a simple coaster.

The scent of incense filled his nose, both familiar and different all at once. He had forgotten that his mother often burned it before her disease had gotten worse, lighting it when they awoke and again before they went to sleep. The smoke also seemed to follow Suan Ni wherever he went, and his gaze landed on the dragon, where it remained for several moments.

There were many things he did not know or understand about the creature, and the creature did nothing to assuage his questions or concerns, only adding on to them with every encounter. Perhaps it was time they had a face to face after all.

Hong Shen finally moved, seating himself down upon the couch and tucking his bare foot behind his other leg. “Is this,” he waved his hand at the room the Yu had transformed into, “part of the game? Using my memories against me?”

Suan Ni chuckled quietly. “This? Of course not. The setting is just to help calm your thoughts, as you appeared to have quite a scare earlier. And your memories seemed to hold a particular fondness for this place.”

It was true. Though it had been decades since he had seen his mother’s living room, he still vividly remembered the comforting feeling it had always given him. The Yu had even included the teacup his mother had used all the way up until she died, crafted by his own hands in art class.

“Then I’m assuming you know all about me, being trapped within my subconscious and all.” Hong Shen crossed his arms, resignation filling his heart. It wasn’t as though there was any way he could prevent the ancient dragon from accessing his personal memories within his mind, as much as he hated the feeling of powerlessness.

“A bit,” Suan Ni said nonchalantly, before leaning forward in his chair, a knowing glint in his eyes. “That man, Mr. Erikson.. He ruined you. You fear and loathe him, even more than the man who abandoned your moth-”

“That’s enough!” Hong Shen stood up quickly, digging his nails into his palms so hard blood dripped down onto the hardwood floor. The name that fell from Suan Ni’s lips was taboo in his twisted world, for it brought back memories locked away for a reason.

The man in the suit flashed across his mind, his features unable to be clearly seen in the darkness of the pleasure room. He could hear the deep laughter echoing beneath the sound of his own blood curdling screams, could feel tears and snot pouring down his face as a throbbing agony was pounded into his body, violating him to his core.

Hong Shen could feel himself slipping into the black hole of his own memories, and desperately tried to keep a grasp on reality, his vision blurring in and out as he tried to draw breath into his frozen lungs. The bridge of his nose prickled as he gasped for breath, and suddenly a new smell entered his nostrils, washing away the iron of blood and the musk of man.

It was refreshing, like a cool breeze on a sunny winter day. The scent of fresh plum blossoms and the soil of the earth forced its way into his body and seemed to have an immediate calming effect, giving him a nostalgic feeling. It calmed his racing heart and cleared his frantic mind, and the side of his cheek tingled as though someone had caressed it. He closed his eyes and leaned into the intangible touch, and for a moment a pale figure appeared upon his eyelids, but when he opened his eyes no one was there.

The living room returned to focus around him, and Suan Ni was still perched upon the chair, though he no longer looked as intense as before. The pale figure was nowhere to be seen, and he furrowed his brows. How could such a scent have such a powerful effect upon him, like it was a drug and he was addict? Sure, it helped stop the spiraling of his weak emotions, but it was almost embarrassing that he had to rely on it in order to control himself.

Almost, because he dreaded to think what would have happened without its timely interference.

Shaking his head, Hong Shen glared at Suan Ni as he sat down once more upon the edge of the couch. “Some memories are best left untouched, dragon of wisdom,” he spat.

Suan Ni had the decency to look chastised. “Very well.”

Hong Shen leaned back with a huff, feeling mentally drained. First an illusionary mo, whatever that was, and then a dragon with no respect for boundaries definitely took its toll. “Can we get on with whatever the fuck your game is?”

Three fingers were held up on Suan Ni’s hand, the red nails pointing towards the ceiling. “I saw it from within your history. Two Truths and a Lie, I believe it is called. But I want to edit it somewhat.” He wiggled his fingers as he spoke. “I ask you three questions. Two of them you must answer truthfully, while one you may not. In return, you may do the same to me.”

“What makes you think I’ll answer truthfully?” Hong Shen scoffed at him. “Better yet, how can I trust that you won’t lie for all the questions?”

“The divine dragons do not go back on their word.” Suan Ni’s face darkened as though the very thought offended him.

Silence filled the room, and Hong Shen’s brows rose as he waited. Finally, Suan Ni bared his teeth in annoyance, before abruptly sinking his claws into his chest, causing golden ichor to run down from five puncture wounds. “I, Suan Ni, hereby give my word to my mortal dragon guard that if I utter more than one lie in this game that my heart shall be pierced through five times.” Immediately, he withdrew his bloodied hand, and the puncture wounds were suddenly sealed by glowing red thread that pulsed with his heartbeat.

Stunned, Hong Shen looked from the threads to Suan Ni as he casually licked the blood from his fingers. “You crazy motherfucker.. You are serious about this game? It’s just some questions, what is so important about it?”

“Is that one of your questions?” The dragon’s previous devil-may-care attitude seemed to have vanished when he made whatever bullshit vow he spouted.

“No, forget it.” Hong Shen gulped. He wasn’t going to go that far for this game, but his previous plan of lying for all his questions was thrown out the window when he saw what he was up against. How could he have forgotten he was currently sitting across from a being that had probably lived for hundreds of years? Being on the run for nine years and having some killing and thieving experience wasn’t going to help him here.

“Then I will start.” Suan Ni straightened in the armchair, giving off the impression of a king sitting on his throne.

“Why are you here?”

p style="text-align:center;"> ⭑・゚゚・*:༅。.。༅:*゚:*:✼✿ Author's Notes ✿✼:*゚:༅。.。༅:*・゚゚・⭑

Mó (魔) - malicious spirits/creatures of immense power and cruelty, the western equivalent of demons and devils (Repost from Chapter 12)

Copyright © 2020 Kong Wen Hui; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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