the whistling sound of the train running over the tracks eases the remaining drops of cortisol out of my bloodstream. The heavy thumping in my radial pulse comes to an end, and I'm met with a steady heart rate that matches the screaming sensation of the rickety train. The railcar is empty of spectators, and for that, I release a satisfied sigh.
Red liquid drips from my left index and middle finger onto the black floor. I swipe the blood off the ground with the bottom of my thick boot, and continue to collect my bearings.
She's making this hard for me to reach her. Nevertheless, I will prevail. the glory from her lineage alone would seat me at the chair of the likes of my ancestors...
A slick smirk crawls on my face, turning my hard cheekbones into a sculpture-like frame. The train slows down at another stop. I don't see any other passengers at the stop, so I neglect to wipe the blood from my thin red hands. this city is beyond freezing this time of year.
as we slowly approach the next station ahead, I doze off sightly, holding onto my blade in my right hand. The automated doors open, allowing a gust of wind to fly on my already cold face.
Thumping sounds break me out of my rest, I don't recall seeing anyone at the stop. peering underneath the side of my hat, I observe the solid figure in all black standing directly on the side of me. the rounded hips, full figure, and bust let me know this is a woman.
craning my neck up to finish examining her, the look in her eyes cause another rush of adrenaline to pour into my body. Piercing brown eyes glared at me, hard enough to kill. the look of survival pains bounce off of her and interact with my past. the determination radiating from her body was enough to heat the icy train up.
She wields a cherry blossom embroidered hilt that has blood dripping off the leaves, followed by a long beautiful silver blade that shows my own reflection. I take this sign of willpower as a challenge, as she has not disarmed herself and stance.
Rising to my feet, I eagerly accept her provocation. Pulling my scimitar from the harness of my thigh, I press the middle button of the hilt and watch my curved beauty take shape. No words were exchanged between the two of us, only life-threatening energy engulfed the shrinking railcar.
Closing the 5 foot space between us, we approach each other in stealth mode. Knees bent, dominant hands behind our bodies, spine crouched, eyes focused. She seemed to almost mirror me. v
YOU ARE READING
Hattori Hanzos Love Child
Actionokay dudes and dudettes, or whatever the fuck yall identify yallselves as now and days(i see you too lil helicopter). this is a simple and interesting version of my take on kill bill 3. in this case beatrix daughter, B.B Kiddo, and Vernita 'Copperhe...
