"Fuck..." A rangy cloaked figure swore. He quickly collected blood from a tube into a bowl, dipped a paintbrush into it and started repainting the intricate design on the stone-cold floor, highlighting each detail with utmost care. He began to pant with the exertion of having to draw the design with such speed.

In the centre of the design lay the hideous, ghostly pale corpse of a young female. Her blue nails were long and shaggy, the skin covering the nail bed was ashen. The body was covered with a robe that was so thin that it only showed how naked she was instead of concealing it.

Her face, which might have been pleasant when she was alive, was now ghastly, bearing gruesome scabs of skin all around one cheek and a little bit on the side of her forehead. Her white hair stood as a sharp contrast against her black robe. Her appearance would have made any person feel the burn of a mixture of bitter bile and last night's dinner against his throat.

The puny man stroked her face, lovingly. "My girl," he croaked. Of course, there was no response, for his daughter lay lifeless on the floor in front of him.

He raised his bony, pale hands which began to glow in a sinister red glow. Black smoke began to float off his palms. He extended his palms towards the design he had drawn, in a sudden swift motion. Waves of red and black smoky lights began to swirl. Then they disappeared into the drawing, which glowed in a purple hue and then diminished.

"Ah yes, now the soul- binding circle is completely repaired," he breathed. "You will never be able to escape from here," he chuckled. "Never, Nuan. I will get my revenge."

"Why do you keep breaking the soul-binding circle? Don't you want to stay with Dad?" He shooed away the maggots, which had just begun to feast on a scab of skin near her grey lips. Now that the circle had been replenished, the girl's soul was trapped inside the body again. The skin which had been damaged, grew back, making her face look frightful.

"Nuan," he whispered. "Do you want to hear me play?"

Taking the obvious silence as a yes, he brought out his prized erhu and fitted the bow stick to the strings.
Series of melancholic notes streamed out, which probably was the only emotional outlet the man had. Behind the cloak, hidden from everyone else, tears too rolled down his cheeks in time with the music.

'Nuan... my beloved daughter... Do you know how I felt back then?

Whenever I look at you now, the same grief gnaws at me... Tears my heart to pieces...

Why?

Nuan... Why?

Why did you do that?

Why did you give yourself up?...'

The tunes start getting shriller.

'When that fucking bitch was going to die, who told that lover boy about her? Was it you? If so, then why? Why did you?'

His fingers began to tremble. So did his lips.

'How did your left leg get paralysed, sweetheart?
Did they do something- I know, those two must have done something to you... I know it. I know... Scoundrels...'

The hand holding the bow stick began to shake uncontrollably, causing the already shrill tones to break at the end.

'Nuan, didn't you see your father when your dead body was brought home by my men, about 60 years ago? Didn't you see my tears at the sight of putrefying maggots nibbling at your flesh?'

The notes suddenly became stable and began to flow in a rhythmic, yet morose melody.

'That's why, I drew the soul binding circle.... to keep you with me.'

His hands began to play a shrill melody.

'But, why do you keep trying to escape from it, child?

Why do you want to leave me?

Why doesn't your spirit listen to me, my daughter?

Doesn't matter, I will keep drawing this, till my blood runs dry.

Nuan... I won't let you go... Never, I-'

A knock sounded on the door of the room, startling him out of his thoughts. He hurriedly rubbed off his tears, before composing himself, with a sinister grin.
"The door is open," he purred in a deep voice, as he resumed playing the erhu.

Another man, who was as tall as him, entered the room and stood at the door. He narrowed his eyes, trying to adjust to the darkness, and somehow stifled a cough at the damp musty odour, combined with the pungent metallic smell of blood.

There was a low table in the centre of the room. On it lay a crystal sphere, set in gold, which was now giving off a misty turquoise glow.

The cloaked figure walked over to the seat in front of the table. Forlorn notes kept pouring out of the two-stringed erhu, as one hand strummed the strings, and the other glided the bow over them.

"Come in, come in," he called. "Sit down."

The other man bowed to him.

They both sat in silence for a while, neither of them speaking a word, the only sounds being the shrill, eerie tune of the erhu.

"Master, these are the-"

"Very good," the man in the cloak abruptly stopped playing. He held out his hand.

The other man placed on the table a clinking mass of metal knots, with intricate runes engraved on them. He examined the runes with the utmost care, tracing a finger along with them. The engravings began to shimmer under his touch.

"Well," the cloaked figure breathed. "Very well."
He picked the mass up and with the other's help, he gradually disentangled it.

It was a long metal chain, with magical, spirit- controlling runes engraved on it.

He wrapped up Nuan's corpse with the chain and locked the ends together. The metal chain gleamed once. "There," he said.

"It is done, Master," the other man completed for him.

'Nuan will never leave me ever again... She will never try to break the soul binding circle... Her spirit will never get dissipated... I won't let it scatter and get lost... Never...'

Both the men gazed at the chained corpse lying on the ground. The master i.e. the cloaked figure, kneeled and kissed the cold pale skin of her forehead. He lovingly caressed her white-haired head. "See? I promised you, didn't I, dear? I promised that I would never let you go. I will never let you break the soul circle again. Never again."

If a dead corpse could get angry, it would have probably ripped his insane head off already.

'I vow to avenge you, Nuan... And I am constructing the keystone for it right now.'

An evil grin glinted his features.

"Finally, your spirit is under my grasp... You will always stay here. Forever."

His sneer broadened.
Still caressing his daughter's head, he said, "And you will help me, won't you?"

The other man smirked, "Yes Master, I am always at your service."

Low chuckles reverberated in the room.

"So?" the former inquired, lazily circling his fingers on the sphere, which was glowing again.

The man knew what to answer.
"Successful, Master. Everything is happening as per your plans."

And that's what the cloaked man liked best about the other male, his promptness, and the necessary wit to understand what he wanted without him having to say anything.

He held his hands over the sphere and hummed a tune. It shone brightly.

The glow slowly adjusted to reveal images, like a movie sequence, or a video clip. What he saw was pleasing to his eyes and mind. He was overjoyed.

A pair of hazel orbs, now red and puffed up from all the tears they had shed and were still wringing out.
Milky white skin, covering a writhing petite body, that was dotted with red and purple blood clots, black and blue bruises and blood from the cuts and scratches.
Red swollen lips screaming and sobbing helplessly around the gag.
Raven black hair sprawled in the dust.
Slender red wrists fighting to free themselves from the binds.
Three large shadows looming over his tender body, and occasionally, his whole body got hidden from view due to a heftier body covering him.

The cloaked man let out a low laugh. "Let me see.... how is the old man doing?"

"A total lunatic in distress, I can assure you," the other replied.

The scene shifted from the little boy to the 'old man', who was frantically looking for the kid. Tears of fear, worry, and anguish streamed down his cheeks, and he raked his fingers through his once neatly tied but now tousled hair.

"Ah... Scratch that. He's being a damsel in distress!!!"

Both of them burst out laughing.

"I feel so sorry for the two of them. I beg you, please! Please save them right now!!!" the cloaked man uttered between his chuckles.
The other man responded with a hearty laugh.

In the meanwhile, the scene had shifted back to the little boy. The cloaked figure peered with bated breath. Both of them saw one of the three shadows stealthily press a black talisman onto the boy's back.

The cloak clad man was in ecstasy. He leapt up from his chair so fast that his knees cracked painfully. But they say, in elation, everything else falls away. So it happened.
He clapped and rubbed his hands in glee.
His chuckles transformed into chortles, then peals of laughter, and finally crescendoed to a hysterical guffaw. He began to shake as if in a frenzy, so much so that he almost fell.

"BREAK HIM!! KILL HIM!!" he suddenly snarled. He pointed a trembling finger at the sphere. "I WILL NEVER LET THE FUCKING YAO BITCH BE WITH THAT LI FUCKTARD!!! NEVER, NEVER, NEVER!!"

He began to go into hysterics again, as those scenes kept replaying like a damaged record. His whole body convulsed.

"MAKE THEM FUCKING ROT IN HELL."

Evil laughter resounded throughout the gloomy room.

Ah well, this is chapter 7... In my update ARCHERY LESSONS, @GandalfofspaceAnli pointed out a drastic error. Zhang was not appalled, he was amazed, mystified. Thank you so much for that. Appalled is a negative emotion, meaning mortified.

Well, thank you to all my lovely readers, for the love and support that you are giving me...
Please vote and comment, as to how I am doing. And if you have any questions, please ask.

Lots of love and hugs,
Yours ever,
Erus555.