Terror in Rinoa

The dawn was especially cruel to the residents of the seaside town of Rinoa, sole residential area of Heartily Island. The evening just before they'd been a bustling town filled with happy people going about their merry business, fishers selling their wares at the marketplace, children laughing with joy. Rinoa was a town steeped in commerce and a signficiant trade center for the people of the New World, many a pirate steered well clear of it for it was under the personal protection of none other than the Yonko Daddy L. Legs. It had been a lovely solution, she offered the town protection, and they gave her valuable intelligence on treasures, and whatever else they learned. Alongside a hefty donation to her cause, which helped ensure the comfort of herself and her crew, only someone with no true sense of self-preservation or with an almost unprecedented amount of arrogance would dare do it harm.

Unfortunately for the town's residents, the well-dressed gentleman that appeared the day before on a traders vessel happened to be both of those things. He'd claimed to be there for collecting wares for his enterprise, when asked for further information, his answer had simply been "Slaves". After that the rest of the evening had been an entire blurr of screams, yells and desperate pleads for survival, none of which he'd heard.

Streets Painted Red
Dawn came, and the first lights shone upon the grisly scene that were the streets of Rinoa, now eerily silent aside from the sound of droplets of life fluids falling onto the streets from conspicious places. Isamu was nothing if not imaginative. The welcoming sign of the village was pierced through with many iron spears, sculpted from objects within the area and the rubble of fallen buildings; it was done in such a manner that the spears spelled from afar "Help".

But the most gristly bit was that on each spear dangled the impaled corpse of a former citizen of Rinoa, it was their blood that fell upon the ground below; and the ground could hardly be seen for the sheer amount of bodies that stood piled up. Needless to say, when he'd stated his intention so plainly, the populace had not been cooperative and had assaulted him as best they could despite their meager abilities, likely counting on the protection of Legs to ensure their safety. They were wrong.

Currently the culprit in question sat in the middle of the plaza, awaiting his present to be brought before him; upon entering the town he'd caught sight of a handsome young man, the very picture of joy, helping his undoubtedly loving wife buy groceries for dinner. It had been a lovely scene, and Isamu had at that moment decided that that man would be his prize for Rinoa, his own little collectible. Trailing a hand through the blood-grimed waters of the fountain, Isamu lifted his gaze upon those he'd already assembled; a large number of men and women, all of whom had conventionally 'attractive' features stood before him.

In their eyes, there was an unsettling vacancy, for their minds had been crushed; ready to be reforged by someone who'd enjoy such a task. Isamu's clientele were nothing if not discerning, they loved having ready-made slaves to ravish, violate or torture as they wished; he'd made certain to keep their basic emotions intact. When he at last arrived to sell his slaves, they'd line up nicely and obediently on the stand, ready to be inspected. Isamu had always found pleasure in enslaving others, it was a special kind of feeling to know you had complete control over another human being, to be their master, their god, and their jailor; besides, the hunt could be so fun and it lead to meeting all these nice people. His train of thought was interrupted by the scream of his prize as he was dragged towards the well-dressed man by other enslaved citizens, their empty eyes staring blankly out into empty space as they carried out the will of Isamu. His Devil Fruit was so exceptionally well-suited to slavery, they practically came of their own volition, why it was almost legal.

He begged and attempting to reason with his former friends, screamed their names, but they would not listen, could not listen. At last he was hurled in front of Isamu, his leggings immediately soaked with the sheer amount of blood on the ground, he screamed and trashed in raw delightful terror as he witnessed friends and family among the dead. But eventually he spoke tearfully.

"Do anything you want to me, but please spare my wife!"

Isamu pondered the question, scratching his chin in contemplation of the pros and cons of such a decision. But once again his train of thought was cut abruptly short by the scream of a woman, the wife of his prize which he'd seen earlier. He could sense how his soon-to-be collectibe tensed at her presence, screaming at her to run and hide, to turn back, but she merely ran towards him and leapt into his arms, weeping uncontrollably. She was beautiful, he supposed, with long eyelashes, big eyes and fair skin.

It... sickened him. He dug his hand into the cold marble of the fountain, which cracked under the raw strain of the gesture; his eyes lost all sense of fake serenity for a time, and for a moment the couple got to see the true monster which slept beneath that comely facade. But the illusion was soon reasserted and he smiled a radiant smile at the two of them, so bright and so genuine that it seemed as though everything that had transpired was merely a bad dream. So surreal was the contradiction of the gesture.

"Of course, I understand that your love is the real thing.. is it not? Go on, what are you waiting for, run away!"

The lovers looked up as if he was suddenly an angel, to have released them from their terror, their hands joined as they ran towards the exit with all their might. Banishing the fact that they were practically stumbling over the corpses of their fallen friends, how marvelous the fact that humans could find joy in their survival while all of their friends lied dead beneath them.

At last the couple came to the gate to the town, mindless of the fact that their clothes became drenched in blood dripping from the corpses above. All they could see was the sea, vast, glimmering and full of hope, so full of potential, they would build a raft.. travel to a nearby island, have children and live the rest of their days in gratitude. Smiling, the man's wife turned towards him as she spoke "Honey.. we'll rebuild and strive to forget this ever happened. I love yo--" the last word was cut off as the woman's mouth filled with blood, gagging she looked down at her body, it was then that she realized that an invisible blade had bifurcated her without her notice. She collapsed in a heap of dismembered limbs shortly afterwards, but she managed to choke out one last word. "R-rrughn.." her husbands eyes widened then, until he let out an unearthly howl of anguish.

Isamu had given the couple false hope, only to crush them brutally, and thus plunge them both into the deepest depths of anguish, to him, it was a moment so beautiful that it might as well have constituted art.. although it would've been easier if blood came in more colors. However, the man had not forgotten his wifes last request, and promptly ran as fast he could towards the exit, but no sooner had he emerged past the entrance than an invisible force grabbed ahold of him and pulled him back, screaming, begging and sobbing. He clawed at the ground in an effort to stop it, but all he accomplished was breaking apart his nails, leaving ten thin trails of blood from his fingertips as he was dragged towards the beast by the fountain. Who awaited with hungry eyes and an arm outstretched.

A Message Delivered
Some time afterwards, Isamu sat at the same place, stroking a hand lovingly through the hair of the latest addition to his collection; the man had his head in Isamu's lap like an obedient dog, his eyes robbed of all personality and soul. The Nō Nō no Mi made breaking people so easy...