My friend told me that no one is going to accuse of using Chatgpt because most of the “fucked up shit” I write is against Chatgpt’s policy so I should “calm tf down” and stop “flooding her dms with my sob story” Anyways this one is not proof read cuz I don’t have any volunteers rn
The rain had come and gone, leaving the streets of Edo wet and glistening in the moonlight. Narrow alleyways buzzed with the quiet hum of late-night revelers and merchants finishing the day’s trade. Somewhere in the distance, a temple bell tolled, signaling the hour of twilight, the cusp between the day’s end and the night’s offerings.
Rody Lamoree, his hair damp and clinging to his face, moved swiftly through the labyrinthine streets, clutching the small lacquered box to his chest as if it were his very heart. The box was dark, intricately carved with a pattern of plum blossoms and delicate vines-an heirloom passed down through his wife’s family for generations. Inside lay Yukiko’s most prized possession: an ornate comb made from tortoiseshell and inlaid with gold.
It had been her mother’s, and her mother’s before her-a symbol of their noble heritage and the purity of their bloodline. Yukiko cherished it as a token of her family’s honor, but for Rody, it had become a weight, a thing that tied him to a life of quiet submission, to a woman who, though kind, could never satiate the growing void within him.
He had loved her once. When he first arrived in Japan, an outsider with his dark auburn hair and strange green eyes, Yukiko had been the only warmth in a cold world that whispered about him behind his back. She was beautiful, with soft features and an elegance that came naturally. But over time, Rody began to see her as something fragile, almost too delicate to hold, her quietness a reflection of the quiet suffocation he felt in their marriage.
And then he had seen *her*.
Vanessa. The name rolled through his mind like a forbidden secret, each syllable pulling him deeper into an obsession he could not escape. She was an escort in the Yoshiwara pleasure district, a woman unlike any he had ever seen. Her beauty was ethereal, with porcelain skin that seemed to glow in the lantern light, raven-black hair cascading like ink down her back, and lips painted a deep crimson that made his heart stutter.
She had moved with grace and confidence, her dark eyes locking onto his, and in that moment, Rody felt the world shift beneath his feet. He had only seen her twice-once from afar, and once closer when their gazes met in a crowded street-but it was enough. He had to have her.
And now, with the comb in his possession, he would.
—
Kuragari Antiques was nestled between a teahouse and an abandoned shrine, its dark wooden exterior faded and unassuming. The door creaked as Rody pushed it open, a cloud of incense and dust hitting his face. Inside, the shop was dimly lit, filled with shelves of forgotten treasures, old scrolls, and tarnished metal. Behind the counter sat a man, hunched and grizzled, his eyes sharp and calculating. He looked up as Rody entered, his thin lips curling into a smile that did not reach his eyes.
“You’ve returned,” the shopkeeper rasped, his voice like the creak of old wood. His gaze dropped to the box in Rody’s hands, gleaming with anticipation. “You’ve brought it.”
Rody nodded, his throat dry. He placed the lacquered box on the counter, sliding it forward. “It’s… the comb,” he muttered, already feeling the weight of his guilt sinking in. His stomach churned at the thought of Yukiko discovering what he had done. He could picture her now, sitting by the hearth, gently running the comb through her hair, unaware of the betrayal taking place.
The shopkeeper opened the box with a deft hand, revealing the tortoiseshell comb, its gold inlay catching the flickering light of the room. He lifted it with a reverence that made Rody’s skin crawl, inspecting the delicate craftsmanship. “This,” the shopkeeper said, his voice now tinged with greed, “is a rare treasure. Worth far more than most men could ever dream of.”
Rody swallowed hard. “I don’t want riches. I just… I need enough for her.”
The shopkeeper chuckled, his eyes gleaming with understanding. “*Her*, yes. The beauty of Yoshiwara. Vanessa.” He set the comb down carefully, his fingers lingering on the edge of the lacquered box. “She is not for the faint-hearted. Many men have tried to claim her. But if you are willing to give up something so precious… perhaps you truly do deserve her.”
The bag of coins the shopkeeper pushed toward Rody felt heavier than he had anticipated. His fingers closed around it with trembling hands, knowing that these coins held the key to the life he had become obsessed with. A life where Vanessa would be his. Where she would belong to him alone.
Rody turned and left the shop without a word, the door closing behind him with a soft creak, sealing his fate.
—
Yoshiwara was alive with the sound of music and laughter, its narrow streets bathed in the glow of lanterns. Rody weaved through the crowd, his heart racing with anticipation. He had been here before, many times, always drawn to the allure of the place, but never bold enough to enter the brothel where Vanessa worked. Tonight, though, was different. Tonight, he was no longer a man haunted by desire. He was a man with a purpose.
The brothel’s madam greeted him at the entrance, her sharp eyes flicking over him with recognition. She knew why he had come. With a silent nod, she led him down a narrow hallway, her lantern casting long shadows across the wooden floor. They stopped in front of a shoji door, and the madam slid it open, gesturing for him to enter.
Vanessa sat on a silk cushion in the center of the room, her black kimono folded around her like a dark wave. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulder, framing her face in shadow. She looked up as Rody entered, a slow, knowing smile curving her lips.
“You’ve come,” she said, her voice low and sultry. It was not a question.
Rody felt his throat tighten. “I… I’ve brought the money,” he stammered, fumbling with the bag of coins at his waist. He dropped it on the floor between them, the sound of metal clinking against wood unnaturally loud in the quiet room.
Vanessa’s dark eyes gleamed as she reached for the bag, her fingers brushing his hand ever so slightly. Her touch sent a shiver down his spine, igniting something deep within him that he hadn’t known was there. “And now you wish to buy me?” she asked, her voice teasing yet tender, as though she found the idea amusing.
“I-yes,” Rody said, his voice thick with longing. “I want you to be mine.”
Vanessa’s smile deepened, her red lips parting in a way that made Rody’s pulse quicken. She rose gracefully from her cushion, the fabric of her kimono whispering against the floor as she moved toward him. “If that is your wish,” she said softly, “then I will come with you.”
Her willingness, her easy acceptance of his offer, caught him off guard. He had expected resistance, maybe even scorn, but instead, she seemed… eager. Affectionate. The way her fingers trailed along his arm as she stood beside him felt like a promise-a promise of something more.
—
When Rody brought Vanessa home, the house was dark. The only light came from the small hearth in the center of the room, where Yukiko sat, her face pale in the dim glow. She had been waiting for him, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her brow furrowed with worry.
The door slid open, and Yukiko looked up. Her eyes widened when she saw Vanessa standing beside her husband, her expression unreadable.
“Who… is she?” Yukiko asked, her voice trembling.
Rody’s jaw tightened. He had prepared himself for this moment, but the sight of his wife-her fragile beauty, her soft voice-unnerved him more than he expected. He pushed the feeling aside. He had made his choice. “Her name is Vanessa,” he said, his voice hard. “She’ll be staying with us from now on.”
Yukiko blinked, her gaze shifting from Rody to Vanessa. She didn’t speak for a long moment, her hands shaking as she reached up to touch her hair, where the comb had once rested. “And the comb?” she asked softly.
“I sold it,” Rody replied, his voice sharp. “We needed the money.”
Yukiko’s face crumpled at his words, her eyes filling with quiet devastation. The comb had been her mother’s-a symbol of her family’s legacy-and now it was gone, sold to buy another woman. Her heart twisted painfully in her chest, but she said nothing. What could she say?
Vanessa moved closer, her presence filling the small room like a shadow. She knelt beside Yukiko, her dark eyes watching her with a strange, almost tender curiosity. “Do not be sad,” Vanessa whispered, her voice soft and lilting. “I will bring no trouble to your home. I will be a good companion to your husband.”
Yukiko shivered at the sound of her voice, something deep and primal stirring in her gut. There was something wrong about this woman, something… otherworldly. But she couldn’t bring herself to speak. She couldn’t bring herself to fight.
—
The days passed like a slow, suffocating dream. Vanessa moved through Rody’s home like a ghost, her presence always felt but never fully seen. Her dark hair trailed behind her like a veil, and her steps were so light, it was as if she hovered just above the ground. Yukiko avoided her as much as possible, retreating into corners of the house where the woman’s gaze couldn’t find her. But even in those quiet moments, she could feel Vanessa’s presence-watching, waiting, taunting.
At first, Rody’s wife tried to remain civil, to accept the woman her husband had brought home with painful grace. She cooked for her, cleaned the shared space, and spoke to Rody with soft tones that begged him to see her, to remember the love they once shared. But no matter how hard Yukiko tried to reach him, Rody’s eyes always drifted back to Vanessa.
Vanessa, with her velvet touch, her knowing smirks, her easy, sensual grace. Her every movement seemed designed to captivate Rody’s attention, and it did-completely.
Rody was intoxicated by her presence. He had never known such intense affection, such an all-encompassing sense of being desired. Vanessa’s hands lingered on his skin longer than necessary, her lips brushing his ear when she whispered to him, her laughter rich and soft like the finest silk. She was affectionate, yes-almost overwhelmingly so-but beneath that warmth was something else. Something dark, possessive, and hungry. Rody could feel it, but it only drew him closer to her.
It wasn’t long before Yukiko noticed the change. The way Rody had grown distant from her, always at Vanessa’s side, always mesmerized by her. She saw the flickers of something cruel in Vanessa’s eyes when she looked at her, the subtle barbs hidden in her words.
“Ah, Yukiko,” Vanessa would purr, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “I see you’ve been working so hard. How sweet. But don’t you think it’s a little… much? After all, it’s not as if you’ll ever have his full attention again.”
Yukiko’s heart clenched at every remark, the tightness in her chest growing unbearable. She tried to ignore it, to brush off Vanessa’s snide comments and biting remarks, but they stung more deeply than she cared to admit.
Late one night, Vanessa caught Yukiko alone in the small garden at the back of the house. The moon was high, casting the garden in an eerie glow, and the air was heavy with the scent of damp earth. Yukiko was bent over, pruning the small flowers she tended, when she heard the soft rustle of fabric behind her.
“Yukiko,” Vanessa called softly, her voice like a serpent’s hiss. “Working again? How diligent you are, keeping the house in such perfect order. Though I must wonder…” She stepped closer, her presence looming like a shadow over Yukiko. “Why do you bother? Rody barely notices you anymore. You’re just another piece of furniture now.”
Yukiko’s hands froze on the shears, her knuckles turning white. She stood slowly, turning to face Vanessa. Her heart was pounding in her chest, but she forced herself to meet the woman’s gaze.
“He’s my husband,” Yukiko said quietly, her voice steady despite the tightness in her throat. “And this is my home.”
Vanessa’s lips curled into a sly smile. “For now.”
—
It began with whispers in the streets.
At first, Rody paid no mind to the rumors circulating around town, the murmurs of missing men and strange happenings in the dark alleys near his home. But as the days passed, the stories grew more vivid, more gruesome. Bodies had been found mutilated, necks twisted at unnatural angles, faces frozen in horror. The victims had all been men who had, in some way or another, crossed paths with Rody.
A merchant who had insulted him weeks prior was found in the gutter, his mouth filled with blood. A blacksmith who had refused to sell Rody supplies for his craft had been discovered with his eyes gouged out. Even a passerby who had made an offhand comment about Rody’s mixed heritage had disappeared, his home left in shambles.
Rody’s stomach churned as he pieced it together. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Each death had followed a slight against him, no matter how small. But he was too entranced by Vanessa to fully accept what his gut told him.
Vanessa, ever affectionate, ever willing, greeted him each night with a smile, her arms open wide as she pulled him into her embrace. “You work so hard, my love,” she would whisper against his skin, her lips brushing his ear. “It’s a shame the world is so cruel to you. But I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you.”
He knew something was wrong, deep down, but how could he question her when her touch sent shivers down his spine? How could he pull away when she was the only one who made him feel truly seen?
Still, the unease grew. He began to notice strange things in the house. The way Vanessa moved so quietly at night, her footsteps barely a whisper against the floorboards. The way her eyes seemed to gleam in the darkness, catching the faintest light and reflecting it back like a predator. Sometimes, when he woke in the middle of the night, he could swear he saw her silhouette moving through the shadows, her head at an angle that wasn’t… right.
And Yukiko. Yukiko had grown quieter, her presence in the house barely noticeable. She moved through the rooms like a ghost, her eyes dull and empty, her face pale. Vanessa treated her with thinly veiled contempt, her words dripping with mockery.
“Poor Yukiko,” Vanessa would say, her voice laced with amusement. “Still trying so hard to please him. But you know he doesn’t care for you anymore, don’t you? Why not just… leave? It would be easier for all of us.”
Yukiko would say nothing, her lips pressed into a thin line as she averted her gaze. She had grown frail, her once vibrant beauty fading beneath the weight of Vanessa’s presence.
—
One night, Rody woke with a start. The house was eerily silent, the air thick and oppressive. He sat up in bed, his heart racing, a strange sense of dread settling over him. Vanessa wasn’t beside him.
The house was bathed in the quiet stillness of night, the only sound a faint creak of the old wooden floor beneath Rody’s bare feet. The silence pressed in on him, heavy and unnatural. Something felt wrong. His heartbeat quickened, a deep sense of unease creeping into his bones as he moved slowly through the house.
Vanessa wasn’t beside him in bed. Her absence felt like a cold void, and Rody, despite his confusion and dread, felt compelled to find her. His feet carried him to the small sitting room, the air growing thicker with each step, almost as if the shadows themselves were watching him.
When he reached the room, the scene before him sent a jolt of terror through his body.
Vanessa stood with her back to him, her long hair flowing down her back like a dark river, but her posture was all wrong. Her neck-long, too long-stretched out and coiled in unnatural ways, like a serpent uncurling in the dim light. The oil lamp on the table flickered weakly, its flame casting a sickly, wavering glow over the room.
But it wasn’t the flame that drew his attention.
Vanessa’s elongated neck twisted down toward the lamp, and her mouth-delicate, sensual, usually so soft-was now stretched wide, drinking from the pool of oil inside the lamp. The thick, black liquid dripped from her lips, running down her chin and neck like ink, but she drank deeply, greedily. Her eyes were half-closed in a state of bliss, as if the oil was some kind of intoxicating nectar, and her body swayed gently with each gulp.
Rody’s breath caught in his throat. His legs trembled, the weight of what he was seeing threatening to collapse his knees. He stumbled back, his foot catching on a loose floorboard with a small thud.
Vanessa’s head snapped up, retracting swiftly, her neck slithering back into place with a grotesque, unnatural grace. She turned slowly, her dark eyes locking onto his, a smile curving her lips-still smeared with the thick oil, glistening in the dim light.
“Rody…” she breathed, her voice soft and affectionate, dripping with the same seductive tone she always used with him. But now, that voice carried something far darker. “You’re awake.”
Her smile widened, and Rody could see the remnants of the oil glistening on her teeth. The lamp flickered weakly, its flame barely alive after being drained.
“I didn’t want you to see this,” Vanessa murmured, stepping toward him with that same graceful, hypnotic movement. “But… you caught me.”
Rody’s heart thundered in his chest, his mind screaming at him to run, to get away from this thing-this creature-but his body wouldn’t move. He was rooted to the spot, caught in her gaze, in her presence. The warmth of her affection still radiated from her, but now it was tinged with something monstrous.
“What… what are you?” he choked out, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Vanessa tilted her head, her neck moving with a sickening fluidity. She reached out, her hand cupping his cheek with the same familiar tenderness that had once made his heart race with desire. Now, it only sent a cold shiver through him.
“I am yours, Rody,” she whispered, her voice wrapping around him like silk, but the darkness underneath was undeniable. “I’ve always been yours. And I will protect you. From anyone who dares to disrespect you, who dares to harm you.”
She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear, her breath warm and sweet despite the oil still clinging to her mouth. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice low and intoxicating. “More than anything. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”
Rody’s mind reeled. His heart was torn between the deep, terrifying truth of what she was and the pull he still felt toward her. How could he reconcile the affection, the passion she had shown him, with the creature now standing before him?
Vanessa pulled back slightly, her eyes gleaming in the dim light as she studied his face, her smile never faltering. “Don’t worry, my love,” she purred. “I won’t let anyone come between us.”
Her gaze flicked toward the hallway, toward the room where Yukiko slept. There was a gleam in her eyes, something predatory, something dangerous.
“Not even her.”
Rody’s stomach twisted violently. “Vanessa, no,” he breathed, his voice trembling as fear and desperation clawed at him.
Vanessa’s smile softened, but her eyes remained cold, detached. “Oh, Rody… She doesn’t deserve you. She never did.” Her fingers brushed his cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped without his realizing it. “You deserve someone who loves you completely. Someone who will do anything for you. Anything.”
Rody’s heart raced, his mind spinning in a whirlwind of fear, confusion, and a sick, twisted longing. Vanessa’s affection, her obsession-it had consumed her. And now it was threatening to consume everything he held dear.
But as he looked into her eyes, he realized something horrifying.
He was beginning to crave it too.
Rody’s breath caught in his throat, his mind a tangled web of confusion and dread, yet he couldn’t deny the sickening pull he felt toward Vanessa. The woman, or rather the creature, that stood before him wasn’t the same person he had first met in the red light district, and yet she was. The tenderness, the intoxicating sensuality, was still there. But now, it was fused with something far more monstrous, something darker and primal.
“Rody,” Vanessa whispered, stepping closer. Her hand moved to rest against his chest, right over his heart, feeling its frantic beat. “You feel it too, don’t you? This connection between us. It’s stronger than anything. You were meant to be mine.”
Rody swallowed hard, his throat dry, unable to speak. His gaze shifted to the faint glimmer of the lamp, its oil supply drained, the flame barely flickering now. The room was thick with shadows, Vanessa’s presence looming larger than life, as if she was more shadow than woman.
“But… Yukiko…” His voice was shaky, barely a breath, as his thoughts turned to his wife. He was gripped with guilt, and yet, a terrible realization dawned on him-his feelings for Yukiko had become an afterthought, a distant echo compared to the overwhelming force that Vanessa had become in his life.
Vanessa’s eyes glinted with something darker, her lips curling into a sly, almost mocking smile. “Yukiko?” she echoed, her tone laced with disdain. “That woman can’t give you what I can. She’s weak, spineless. She hides behind her family’s heirlooms, their wealth, their *status*. What does she do for you? Does she *love* you the way I do?”
Rody’s breath quickened. “You don’t understand… I-“
“I understand perfectly,” Vanessa interrupted, her voice smooth, but underneath it was a sharp edge, like a blade waiting to strike. “You sold her precious comb, didn’t you? You chose me over her.”
Rody winced at the memory. The comb had been Yukiko’s most cherished possession, an heirloom passed down through generations of her family. It had taken every ounce of resolve for him to pawn it, to betray her trust in such a visceral way. And why? For Vanessa. He had been seduced by the promise of her beauty, her warmth, the forbidden allure of the red-light district. It had felt like destiny at the time, but now he wasn’t so sure.
Vanessa’s eyes bore into his, reading his thoughts, her smile widening. “You’ve already made your choice, Rody. Don’t look back now.”
His stomach twisted as she spoke, her voice like velvet wrapping around him, luring him deeper into her grasp. The creature inside her was growing bolder now, more dominant. And it wasn’t just him who was in danger. Yukiko-
“Leave her out of this,” Rody managed to choke out, his voice trembling. He couldn’t allow Vanessa’s wrath to touch his wife, no matter how far he had already fallen into this abyss.
Vanessa’s expression soured slightly, her smile fading into something colder, more calculating. “Leave her out?” she repeated, mocking him with her tone. “Rody, she’s the reason you’re miserable. The reason you were stuck in that suffocating life. You think I’m the problem? I *freed* you.”
His heart thudded painfully in his chest as Vanessa’s fingers tightened on his skin, her nails grazing his chest. Her neck twitched slightly, a reminder of the unnatural being she had become. But her eyes-those dark, dangerous eyes-never left his.
“Why do you even care about her?” Vanessa asked softly, her voice dripping with venom. “She doesn’t care about you. She never did.”
Rody’s chest ached with the weight of it all, his conflicting emotions tearing him apart. He had betrayed Yukiko, and now he was tangled in Vanessa’s web. The lines between right and wrong, between love and obsession, had blurred beyond recognition.
Vanessa moved closer, her body pressing against his, her warmth seeping into him. “I’ve done everything for you, Rody. I’ve protected you. And I’ll keep protecting you. From anyone who dares to disrespect you.” Her lips brushed against his ear, her voice a sultry whisper. “Even from your precious wife.”
A cold shudder ran through him. “Vanessa, no…”
But she pulled away, laughing softly, her voice airy and sweet, like she was telling a joke. “What do you think I’ve been doing all this time?” she asked, her gaze darkening with every word. “Those men… the ones who insulted you, the ones who sneered at you, mocked you-do you think I let them get away with that?”
Rody felt a sickening lurch in his gut. He had noticed things, hadn’t he? Strange disappearances in the neighborhood, rumors of men vanishing in the night, found dead under mysterious circumstances. He hadn’t connected it to her, hadn’t wanted to believe it. But now…
“I won’t let anyone hurt you, Rody,” Vanessa purred, her lips curving into a dangerous smile. “Not anyone. And certainly not your wife.”
His heart pounded in his ears, his breath shallow as he stared at her, this woman-this monster-he had brought into his life. She had consumed him, in more ways than one. And now, she was threatening to consume everything.
“Rody,” Vanessa’s voice was softer now, affectionate. “You and I… we belong together. I’ve done this for you. For us.”
Rody’s mouth was dry, his mind racing. He had to do something. Yukiko wasn’t safe, not with Vanessa like this. But how could he stop her? How could he even begin to fight against the pull she had over him?
As Vanessa turned toward the hallway once again, her movements slow and deliberate, Rody’s body tensed. He couldn’t let her. He couldn’t let her take another step toward Yukiko.
“Vanessa, please,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Stop.”
She paused, turning her head slightly, her neck elongating unnervingly as she looked back at him. Her eyes softened, her smile becoming gentle once more. “For you, Rody,” she murmured, her voice like silk. “I’ll do anything.”
But in her eyes, he saw the truth. It wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
The night stretched on, thick with the scent of oil and fear, as Vanessa slowly receded into the shadows, her form shifting and twisting. She would wait. She always did. And when the time was right, she would strike again.
And Rody, helpless in his own tangled desires, would be there to watch it all burn.
A/N
I get panic attacks over the smallest inconveniences. I’m sorry I freaked out and unpublished the whole book. If it wasn’t for my friend I probably would’ve abandoned it like my jikook book. If anyone is willing to volunteer to be my proof reader please do reach out to me. I’m too scared to use ai bots for proof reading again. My discord is @zee.23.01
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