Post by webdevil on Jul 18, 2022 21:19:22 GMT -7
An undisclosed forest.
In the green there was solace amongst the canopy of green. Nothing but nature's melody to break the still air. There was an unseasonable cold this midsummer's eve, but she did not care.
She was Elektra. She cared for little.
Underneath night's endless blanket she sat, allowing the song to calm her mind. An endless storm of rage and death, and nought an angel could reach her there.
One angel.
She shook her head. She was a fool. Always taking stock, and always coming back to where she came before. Mediation was her comfort and her rest. Sleep, ever the temptress, kept at bay. She found it hard to sleep; had even feared it for years. In the early days after her mother's death, it was also accompanied with tears.
Then came a tourniqet. An escape to the world of her pain. He was blind, she was caught off guard; he could play the game. For a year, perhaps more, she was free, a love that would not die, but death still came and stole her away.
But the Devil himself could not hold her; and heaven above would not receive her. She was Elektra. She was alone.
The running water flickered and flash. Whispers on the wind. The fluttering of her silken garb. The whine of polished steel in her hands.
"You have your assignment. Attack," she stated.
Flashes of red and steel swarmed, but her dance did not break her reverie. The Hand had many fingers, but none with a solid grip. She spun, she twirled, she leapt, allowing blades to crash and clash. She was beauty in a bloody storm that never brought her pain.
One genin remained from twenty. She made herself plain. She kept her guard up, knowing her sai will be more useful than her say.
"You can tell Gorgon I will come for him. If he fears me enough to send you, what do you think your leader will accomplish for the Beast?"
Her words were acid, but they could not make ninja flinch. Instead he charged, looking for a kill, only to miss by an inch. Her sai was already there, lodged deep where once lay a heart. He dissolved into the mist, and she was left once more in the dark.
"Matthew. One day," she said softly to herself, sheathing her sai and picking up her travel bag and began to travel on through the forest.
"But not so long as monsters beyond you are in the way..."
She would return to the Spider and finish her mission. It was, afterall, her chosen path. But once her goal to wipe the Assassin's Guild off the map had drawn to a close, the Hand would find there are threats worst than the Beast for them to fear, even if they worshipped the demon stain. She suppressed a shiver as she heard a faint chuckle from a distance that somehow did not feel physical. Maybe she was growing weary of it afterall...
In the green there was solace amongst the canopy of green. Nothing but nature's melody to break the still air. There was an unseasonable cold this midsummer's eve, but she did not care.
She was Elektra. She cared for little.
Underneath night's endless blanket she sat, allowing the song to calm her mind. An endless storm of rage and death, and nought an angel could reach her there.
One angel.
She shook her head. She was a fool. Always taking stock, and always coming back to where she came before. Mediation was her comfort and her rest. Sleep, ever the temptress, kept at bay. She found it hard to sleep; had even feared it for years. In the early days after her mother's death, it was also accompanied with tears.
Then came a tourniqet. An escape to the world of her pain. He was blind, she was caught off guard; he could play the game. For a year, perhaps more, she was free, a love that would not die, but death still came and stole her away.
But the Devil himself could not hold her; and heaven above would not receive her. She was Elektra. She was alone.
The running water flickered and flash. Whispers on the wind. The fluttering of her silken garb. The whine of polished steel in her hands.
"You have your assignment. Attack," she stated.
Flashes of red and steel swarmed, but her dance did not break her reverie. The Hand had many fingers, but none with a solid grip. She spun, she twirled, she leapt, allowing blades to crash and clash. She was beauty in a bloody storm that never brought her pain.
One genin remained from twenty. She made herself plain. She kept her guard up, knowing her sai will be more useful than her say.
"You can tell Gorgon I will come for him. If he fears me enough to send you, what do you think your leader will accomplish for the Beast?"
Her words were acid, but they could not make ninja flinch. Instead he charged, looking for a kill, only to miss by an inch. Her sai was already there, lodged deep where once lay a heart. He dissolved into the mist, and she was left once more in the dark.
"Matthew. One day," she said softly to herself, sheathing her sai and picking up her travel bag and began to travel on through the forest.
"But not so long as monsters beyond you are in the way..."
She would return to the Spider and finish her mission. It was, afterall, her chosen path. But once her goal to wipe the Assassin's Guild off the map had drawn to a close, the Hand would find there are threats worst than the Beast for them to fear, even if they worshipped the demon stain. She suppressed a shiver as she heard a faint chuckle from a distance that somehow did not feel physical. Maybe she was growing weary of it afterall...
