Hattori Hanzos Love Child

Before Okinawa

Nikkia Green

I never understood why I had to witness the demise of my mother...

There's not a day that goes by where I don't see the emptiness in her once loving eyes.

Cursed images haunt my mind as I saw the remains of life in her eyes that were swallowed by the unclenched thirst of death.

The recurring image of the blonde woman who stood over mother, calmly lapping her precious blood off her knife without remorse causes me to hit my target precisely in his temple. Even from a two-mile distance, watching his body fall limp in the limo filled with bimbos made me chuckle.

Pulling the MK 12 off the cement roof and into the black duffle bag, I continue to think of the rest that has fallen at my hands.

The saying 'live by the sword, die by the sword' continuously ricochets in my subconscious whenever my goats meet their ending. Good thing I keep a gun on me...

The slight rush of air pushed my brown curls off my shoulders, cascading a dark silhouette to pull behind my slender frame...

Slaughtering the defiled goats of this world is my specialty. It's the only thing that has bought me peace since that day. I climb down the make-shift ladder on the side of the abandoned building used to reach my Billy.

As my feet touch the gravel, I dismantle the ladder and throw it in a nearby trash can. The thumping cadence my black boots created, comforted me as I walk through the bright lights of the city.

I look up to see a police officer staring in my face, I wave at him and timidly smile. He returns the gesture not once questioning the thick duffle bag on my back with his eyes. I breathe a fresh gust of air, happy he could return to his family. It would be an unfortunate night to have to kill another officer for intruding on my work.

As the high of disciplining my goats ware off, the common feeling of anger rises again in the back of my throat. My blood rushes to the surface of my skin once more and my eyes tear up.

Why did it have to be her?

Another swallow of hot blood trickles down my throat and greedily snatches the remnants of hope I had left of a normal life.

The city lights levitate above the sky while police sirens wail in search of finding the last sense of justice in this sickening world.

Standing In front of the brown brick apartment, I throw my head back and sigh. Frosted air pushes out of my lungs and freezes my throat, and I look down in defeat. Another night here...

I stomp my way up the brown stained stairs and press the silver buzzer to apartment A1. Immediately greeting me with an obnoxious voice, a deep throaty voice shouts out asking for my identity. When met by silence I was buzzed in. Took long enough.

The once eerie feeling that snaked through my body reaching my caramel skin was long gone. The feeling of an empty home parade in my heart and swaddles me closely. Back at square one.

The trifled smell of urine and gasoline irritates my nose, automatically making me roll my eyes in disgust. How much dirtier could this place get?

Turning the apartment door A1, Gee meets me with a butterfly knife to my neck. How cute. Pushing the armed hand closest to my neck away I kick his meaty knees in with my thick boots and strike a swift blow to his Adam's apple.

Watching the old man back away while holding his neck almost made me smile. When was he going to be done with these antics and get some real protection in here? Then again, if Gee wanted me dead he would have left me where he found me so really his option of defeat was worthy of a quiet smirk to erupt.