I gripped my sword in my hand, the handle worn and stained with use. It fit perfectly into my hand, something brought about by repeated use and wear. It felt comforting, in a way. To have something fit so perfectly with a part of you. Like it was made to be. Yet of course, it was a sword and nothing more. A tool used in the act of maiming and killing. Something simple and yet had the possibility of danger. My face was adorned with a simple mask covering my mouth and nose, almost a muzzle. Not only did it restrict my speaking, thus not allowing me to call for help if I so deemed necessary, but also restricting my breathing. It coddled my face, a symbol of something more than hiding my identity. It held more importance than that. It was a muzzle, holding back my bark. Really, that's all I was to them.
A dog.
Something that had no say.
Go figure.
Of course, I had grown used to it. All my life I had been trained like an animal told to sit and stay and kill. I was raised and taught to kill and maim. It had been ingrained into my DNA and head since I could walk or really remember. As a child, you remember and cherish your first toy or first playtime. I had learned to cherish my first kill. Most children learn to walk and talk and write and read whereas I learned how best to disable your victims or how to best invade a place undetected and leave no trace for the authorities to find. No trace, no way to find me. No way to find the people who had made me into the beast I was today.
Now, don't jump to conclusions. I'm sure if I had been raised by a normal family and lived a normal life, I wouldn't have an insatiable thirst for bloodshed. If anything, know this: I was not to blame for what I was. I would learn this, eventually. It would take years on end, but eventually, I would learn.
My feet balanced on the tip of the Destiny's Bounty, and my hair flew behind me as the ship flew. The night sky bathed the world in a dark deep blackness, stars peeking through the great abyss above my head. All was calm and peaceful, as it should be on a night like this. Yet, here I was, the harbinger of the worst. No moon shone to provide the much needed light, but I could see well enough in the dark. Training had made sure of that. I was used to being locked in pitch black, expected and commanded to escape from the deep black prison, not an easy feat by any means. Beneath my toes, I could hear those stupid ninja hollering and carrying on as if they had just conquered the world. They probably had. I was out to stop them.
I slunk over to the window that was propped open with a book, wind whistling inside the ship. Lazy ninja. I imagine they would come to regret the gesture of leaving the window open on a early summer night. Bugs could find a way in. Not only that, but also assassins looking to prey on innocent ninja. A soft pop, and I pushed the book out from its place and slid into the kitchen, landing on my toes, silent. It was warm and welcoming, and if I wasn't here to kill, I might have felt the slightest bit of happiness. A gentle light poured from a room far down the hallway, illuminating my path. Around me, the ship creaked as the wind whipped around her. The still, quiet air sent shivers down my spine despite the warm temperature of the air surrounding me.
What is happiness? What is it a result from? Happiness and joy are foreign to me. Never have I felt the rush of joy or the adrenaline rush from something sweet and happy. The only rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins happened all those times I was forced to fight those of higher ranking. Each time, my heart beat in my throat and I thoroughly expected to be welcomed into death's arms. Yet still, I was always nursed back to health because of my promise of one day being of use to them.
My lips have never curled into a smile from a gift given to me or an act of kindness.
No matter.
I stepped softly into the bare hallway, peeking around both ways before moving forward. Chattering came from the side of me, off down the hallway and to the right. Light spilled down the hallway from where the ninja sat, shadows from their frames danced on the floor and the walls, showing their postures of joy. Gently and slowly, I slid into the hallway, sword grasped tight in my fist. In an instant, I was back in the room where I entered, a sudden noise causing me to be more cautious, heart rate beginning to rise steadily. I forced myself calm, reminded of all the times I had done this before. It was often easier than it seemed.
Back pressed against the wall, I let my muscles relax as I realized it was only laughter. A silent sigh of relief escaped my lips and I entered into the hallway once more, more wary this time than the last.
Each wall along the hallway was lined with doors and the occasional picture which was too dark for even me to make out. I squinted at a few, confused by the prospect of hanging something such as a picture on a wall. I had seen the same thing in other places I had visited for the same occasion and mission, but never understood the appeal. I shook my head, pulling back my thoughts.
I had bigger fish to fry.
I slunk into an adjacent room, seeking temporary cover when I flinched as an alarm blared harsh and loud in my ears. It rung and bounced around in my head, making my fingers curl in anger and head pound instantly.
Down the hall, I heard groans and running footsteps toward me. I pressed further up against the wall, hoping not to reveal my location.
"Sensei, what happened?" A voice called, impatient and grouchy and loud enough to be heard over the alarms.
"Jay, I swear if your stupid intruder detector is broken again-" Another yelled, only to be cut off.
"Of course it's not!" A whiny voice met my ears and I cringed. The ninja shuffled down the hall and passed by the room I was hidden in without giving it a second glance. I watched at they went before my eyes widened as the voice spoke to me, slow and sticky sounding.
Take them. Kill them.
I blinked and in a flash, my hand reached out and grabbed the last ninja, one garbed in white, before he could follow the others. Before he could make a sound, I clapped a hand over his mouth and slid my sword against his throat. This was going to be easy.
I leaped backwards as sparks flew from his neck and wires hung loose where instead blood should be. A growl escaped my throat, angry and confused. Footsteps thundered in my direction again and I hid just beside the door, back pressed to the wall as another entered. His eyes widened at the fallen form of his teammate, spazzing on floor as if in a seizure. I took the opportunity handed to me as he faltered, falling still.
My blade met flesh and it sunk into his stomach. The blue ninja crumpled to the ground but was just barely caught last minute by another dressed in red. I leaped from my hiding place and into the hall where I felt the air immediately thicken as weapons of all sorts were unsheathed in my direction.
With a roll of my eyes, I pushed his sword away with my own and held it out to the black haired boy who pushed an unsuspecting girl behind him.
It was then I got a look at them. A real, good look at who I was facing.
They were my age.
The Masters has never told me that they were my age.
Never had I been told to kill someone my age. Each of the one before had been older, ranging from 30s to 70s, each life stripped away. I had never been faced with someone the same age as me, someone who still had a life to live.
I gasped, but held my ground, the voice yelling in the back of my head. I stilled as it took the reigns, my training taking hold of my body. All I could do was sit by and watch as I inadvertently spilled the blood of those like me. They all seemed solemn despite the circumstances, weapons poised ready to strike. No one spoke, and it seemed like we stood there for hours watching each other.
The blue one who had doubled over and left a considerable blood stain on the floor, peeked up to meet my cold, harsh eyes.
He had a soft resolve, his curly red brown locks giving him a juvenile look. His bright blue eyes held mine, but looked almost sweet, laced with dashes of kindness.
I just stabbed him, and he looked at me like this?
I shook my head clear of the thought, before I lost myself again to what had taken control earlier, and dashed toward them again.
The black haired boy held me off with a scythe, but I kicked him back into the wall, leaving a considerable dent. A quick duck as I was charged by one dressed in green and I cut the back of his leg with a quick slice, blood oozing on the floor to join that of the blue ninja.
He fumbled to the floor groaning and grumbling, hands clutching his wounds as blood seeped into the floor.
The spiky haired boy was left to tend to the ginger, so it seemed I had won.
A spin on my heal, and I met face to face with the boy black hair. He gave a wild smile as he lunged forward, which I dodged quickly. He grumbled something before sweeping a leg under me, knocking out my feet and my head flying back against the cold hardwood floor.
I was out cold.