Critique

He stepped back, and with a practiced eye, surveyed his handiwork, whilst beneath the mask he wore, a self-satisfied smile played about thin, pale lips.  Before him, chained and spread-eagled to the wall like some hunter’s grotesque trophy, the body hung, limp in its quiescence, its life blood spilling slowly in a gathering pool at his feet.

He’d truly outdone himself this time; or so he thought as he continued to ponder the lifeless form before him… continued watching as that crimson liquid – the color the same as the hair crowning the face he’d left to its porcelain perfection – dripped monotonously to the floor.

Even in death, Kurama was a vision.  And though he was not prone to such frivolous fancy, Karasu could not but wax poetic at the sight of the beautiful destruction he’d wrought.  Again, a smile came and he bent down to dip a slender finger and swirl it around the pooled blood before he began to write an epitaph for the fox….

In the Beauty of

Exquisite Death the Red Rose

Blooms in Agony

When he finished, he stepped back, contemplating what he’d written.  It was… Perfection – much like the body before him.

“Hm,” he said, and this time it was a smirk that graced those lips as he looked up and into sightless emerald eyes.  “What say you, my lovely… do you think the fire brat will agree?” 

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Written for the lovely and extraordinarily talented SekahYYh on her 20th birthday... because she wanted something with Karasu/Kurama and this is my poor attempt to grant her wish.

This very short one-shot is just that... a one-shot.  There will be no more.  And it was intentionally left vague and written as an 'after that fact' fic because I cannot write torture of our beloved fox.  I leave that to the experts, of which I am most definitely NOT one.