As his deft hands danced with the movement of the needle, leaving behind the stain of ink in its wake, it sent little glimmers of calm and excitement in the same touch leaving her wishing for more. The heat his touch mingled with the fire
that built with each time the needle pierced her flesh.
The needle left her skin briefly to be dipped into the black ink once more and then it returned to satisfy the craving her skin had grown for the feeling. But his other hand, it never left her back only fueling the need for the pain of the needle to remind her of why his hand was there.
The figure on the bench stood, wiping her dagger on the cloth she wore as a cloak. Blood pooled on the ground beneath the bench, reflecting the moonlight, eerily red. She looked down as the light faded from the other’s eyes.
"Go with your instinct," she muttered, stepping over the body and following the path to the main gardens.
She turned towards the moon, her eyes catching a glint of the silver light that made their striking blue stand out against the pale of her face, peeking from the shadows of her hood as she walked. Her footsteps carried her from the gardens passing what was once a magnificent country house for someone wealthy. Now all that stood was a smoldering shell of a building. Her thoughts were on other things though. Casting a glance to each side, she stepped into a shadow cast by a small camphor tree and disappeared.
She leapt from shadow to shadow exerting such silent speed that she seemed as quick as the wind. A smile tugged at her lips, knowing what was in store for her next. She turned to the left, near a grove of trees, and stopped short in front of a temple set on a hill and surrounded by ancient trees. Using experience that a normal person wouldn’t know, she climbed the stairs very carefully. She smiled, knowing these steps all too well and the dangers they held for the untrained, unlucky traveler. As if to make her point, her eyes caught a recent addition to the collection of those caught by one of the traps. She shuddered at the thought of spears skewering her or any number of other horrors she heard these steps hid.
The temple grounds came into view with only the glints of moonlight off the occasional statue or dewy leaf. Light shone through the rice paper windows, inviting to only the few who would approach this creepy, haunted looking shrine. Just the way she liked things, quiet and away from the world. She walked carefully and deliberately to what seemed to be a wall, and using a deft hand, the wall pulled away into a sliding door. When she closed it behind her, the panel looked the same as the rest of the wall around.
The floor creaked slightly, age and the weight of her moving across made the floor protest under her soft footfalls. She headed for the light peaking from under one of the doors and tapped lightly before sliding the door open. Deep, mocha brown eyes met her, staring at her from next to a small, short, wooden table. The table contained many things including several five-inch, wooden handled needles. In his hands were two inkpots ready, needles in them