Katakuri X Reader Chains Unbound

Misfortune has Chosen

I'm so hungry. I always am though so I've grown used to it.

The Celestial Dragons are the World Nobles, descendants of the original founding Kings who established the World Government. I am so fortunate as to be enslaved to a family of said Nobles.

Watching the filthy repugnant Celestial Dragons stuff their fat faces while refusing us even the scraps from their meal, choosing instead to repeatedly beat the slave so bold as to sneak it out of the trash later.

How can they do that to us? Don't they understand we are people too?

Though the personality and life isn't as evident in the others eyes. This “life” is a lonely one since no one dares talk to each other or laugh. The only words spoken are those of the Celestial Dragons demands.

Why did my mother have to open up her damn legs in a place like this? Does getting the shit beat out of you get you off?

I feel a tinge of guilt followed by intense nausea thinking this way because I have a slight inkling who my "beloved" father might be.

"Wench! Why are you just standing there gaping at us? Do you not see our glasses empty! Bring the wine immediately girl!" The Celestial trash master father yells. I snap out of my thoughts mentally slapping myself for my loss of focus to add to the sure-to-come physical slapping.

"My apologies, your highness," I curtsy as I pour his wine and subtly brace for impact. Bells ring in my head upon impact and I'm sent flying across the room as the disgusting, greasy, fat pigs all cackle at me.

I bet they really get off on punching a defenseless ten year old girl around.

I scramble to my feet immediately losing balance in my dizzy haze and smash into the wall. Cackles. Those cackles. How I loath them. Sometimes I feel so low, like soon my identity will fade from my eyes as well. Those soulless eyes of the veteran slaves. They lost their will ages ago.

"Get the fuck out of my sight you filthy brat!" Barnaul, the fat drunkard of a father screams. He raises his whip that remains latched to his belt and cracks it against my back sending me to my stomach. I attempt getting to my feet again using the wall to balance as I make my retreat. I ensure to hide any ounce of pain from my face, depriving him of that satisfaction.

Finally, I can get away for awhile. Hopefully the fat man-baby doesn't get too drunk and come for mother again. I wonder what his wife would do if she knew of his late night excursions into the cells. Probably blame my mother like she's a willing applicant to that loathsome man having his way with her.

We are damned if we do, damned if we don't. Best to just submit if you want to live, if you can really call this living. Me, I get by dreaming about what is outside. True freedom.

One day I'll break out for sure! Lost in thoughts of escape, I creep silently to a back room where sometimes food is stashed in with the mounds of gold and treasures. This is extremely risky for, if I'm caught, the repercussion is certain death. I'll starve to death if I don't though so, in I stalk.

Bingo! It's paid off, barely, but still paid off. A single fruit sits upon a mound of gold. It looks as if it was stored in a chest that toppled off spilling open directly above the fruits position. I snag the fruit and bolt somewhere less risky to indulge in my prize.

The cleaning closet is the perfect place as the Celestial garbage would never lift a finger to clean anything for themselves. I close the door quietly and examine the fruit. Its strange. The crimson color with black curling shadows that make up a sort of winged creature entrances me. THUMP! My trance is broken and sweat collects on my brow.

Oh no! Will they discover me? I hold my breath, every muscle in my body tightens. Even my stomach has the self preservation to shut up for this moment.

"Where'd that stupid brat run off too!?" The voice is familiar. Fat pig-man has gotten to his drunken state. His footsteps fade away towards the cell.

I need to eat this quick and scram! I gobble the fruit down quickly. Despite the beautiful yet foreboding appearance of the fruit, it tasted horrible. I sprint as quietly as I can down the hall towards the cell hoping I can creep in before he notices I'm missing.

He's a few feet in the cell with his back to the door searching the room. I slide in and shoot a direct line to the corner out of his sight. A pang suddenly shoots through my body and my breath hitches.

Must have been a bad fruit. Barnaul catches a glimpse of me while I struggle to gain my senses.

"There you are you stupid bitch, you've been teasing me all night with your ratty little clothes!" Oh no... No.... No, no, no! He grabs my wrist and lifts me in the air smashing me against the table. I scream out in pain and search the room full of soulless eyes for help. "Mom!" Barnaul rips my rags off in one motion and I slam my tiny fists into his gut. It does nothing. "Just shut up you little shit!" He whispers aggressively in my ear as he undoes his pants and drops them to the floor.

I want to throw up. I bite down on his arm as hard as I can. He yelps out in pain and slams his fist into my face chiming those bells in my head. "That's more like it," he says with a callous smirk. He grips my wrists painfully smashing them above my head on the table as he prepares to enter.

Out of nowhere, my mother barrels into him from the side smacking him with a broom handle. "Ompfff!" He's had enough. He whips out his pistol.

Red. Red is clouding my vision. Everything slows down. I can practically watch the bullet entering my mother's heart. Red. Only red.

A tantalizing voice tells me to let go, to give in and embrace the chaos. My mother collapses to the ground and I snap.

Something shifts inside of me. An aura of tangible red bubbling rage surrounds me. I feel as if my soul is intertwined with chaos itself. A dark static shadow of a demonic figure raises out of me dancing with my own anger and confusion. My soul, my very being, is consumed by the chaotic figure pouring out of me.

Nothingness.

I regain my wits, still standing, panting heavily staring at my hands that are now dripping with blood. I look up to study what can only have been my handiwork as everyone else in the room was dead.

I felt pity for the slaves who lost their life before ever tasting freedom. The Celestial dragon family had all wandered down to investigate the commotion and now all lay dead at my feet.

Barnaul lay bloody with eyes wide, mouth agape permanently frozen in fear. Good. My eyes are drawn to the object in his hand. A button. A button we all knew too well. Used for threats multiple times.

A button for a buster call, with the power to summon five powerful Marine Vice Admirals and a fleet of ten ships, and it was flashing. "Shit!" I run upstairs and grab the first garments I spot hoping they'll fit and blend enough to get me away. And so began my life of running.

 

...........................Conflict.............................