11-17-2014, 12:21 AM
Yoshimitsu didn't sleep. Not in the normal way at least. His mind was alert as ever while his body rested. Meditation met lucid dreaming. In his own world he played out the day's details. Meeting his new team, finding out who lost whom to the infestation of monsters from a cave outside of the city. He could recall their faces perfectly, their voices and mannerisms. They were good men. The scenes of the cave played over and over. For all his bravado and conviction, something didn't sit right with his actions. History told him inhuman things were evil. All the tales and legends passed from generation to generation were deeply ingrained in his collective family. Tradition was what kept them strong. It made them act without hesitation. So why did this feel so wrong? He couldn't wrap his conscious mind around it so he let the subconscious take over.
He saw himself as one of the creatures. Only they weren't the monstrous Crab People they had fought. They were just lobsters and crabs. Tiny, insignificant ocean dwellers. As one of these animals he saw giant boots and overwhelmingly black cloak moving toward him. Straining the antennae he could see the violently red face of the man with a sword. Emotionless blue lights drew closer. It became frightening. A monster came at him. Scared, he backed away, using the language of his kind to warn the others to run. Before the message could get out, a mighty foot squashed him. His hardened shell crumbling under the weight of the calloused beast. And suddenly he was in another body.
He watched as his own body stomped and flattened and smeared the body all over the cave floor. Laughter and shouts rang like thunder in the distance. The small body of the crab turned to see more freakish giants running toward his family. He tried scuttling away but found he was trapped. Predators cornered him as they slaughtered everyone else. Brothers and sisters all crying out before being silenced forever. It was tragic. Heartbreaking. Yet he felt no anger. Just pity and terror. And then he felt nothing at all as heavy metal weapons struck him and cleaved him to pieces.
But there he was watching the carnage from another body. This one fading in and out of this world and into the next. In the back of his primal brain he could hear the voice of his enemies. Not the ones who ambushed his group, but the ones they had been struggling against for so long that it was instinct to hate and fear their scent. They laughed and sneered. Their disgusting whiskers and sharp teeth twitching as they watched from the darkness. All this time they had tried everything to stay safe from these masters of shadows and yet they simply sent giants to destroy them. They just wanted to survive this world, but here they were, dying. Things kept fading to reality, where the red faced demon was taking the spirits of his kin, ensuring they would never find peace in whatever after life existed for arthopods. The sound of ogre steps got louder and louder until one bent antenna could see the monster standing over him. He had to let this thing know of the true danger. The real enemy. Maybe they would mercilessly kill the predators as they were.
Yoshimitsu's eyes flashed to life. Alert and sober, he sat up from his cot. The sounds of snoring was all around him. The eyes manually blinked as they adjusted to the lack of light. He knew what he had to do. Not only for his own peace of mind, but for the sake of this city. He made a grave mistake, one that would certainly disturb his soul. But not like it would if he didn't keep his promise to put an end to the abductions. The warrior would protect the people, he would atone for the murder of the Crab People and punish the evil of the Mole People. And he would do it alone. The way he always did things.
The night sky provided enough light for him to navigate back to the caves on his own. It was dim, but then again, so was he. His shame was complete and his beliefs wouldn't allow him to make excuses. What he had done was kill innocents. Even if he didn't believe that inhuman creatures were entirely innocent, he still hadn't witnessed any wrongdoing and had immediately executed them for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Which led him to some scary questions he had about his weapon that did all the killing. If they were innocent...why did the curse take their blood and give way to hibernation? His katana was supposed to only feed off wicked spirits. That mystery unnerved him slightly. But it was one he would have to solve at another time. If he allowed his own injustice to exist without correction then he would be deserving of the full effect of the curse. He needed to assure his own purity first.
He saw the caves in the distance. And in front of the cave mouth they had entered, he saw a small group of dark figures carrying something. They definitely weren't the Crab People. These creatures were small, hunched over. They had long limbs and looked naked. Nothing like the large armored and slow beasts he had seen earlier that day. And what they were carrying looked like a child. Helpless, squirming, crying in a muffled voice. If he had left all of this alone then there would be a murder on his hands. It paid to meditate on your actions, as ugly as some of those actions ay be.
Quietly he followed the strange beings into the cave system. They had about five minutes on him, but there was no chance they could escape. The soft sounds of the child were echoing gently through the tunnel, giving Yoshimitsu an audible trail to follow. He silently drew the cursed blade Yoshimitsu from its protective saya, the deep purple glow becoming a valuable light source as he walked through the cavern. The blue lights from his mask allowed him to see just as well as the first time, but the poisonous plume of color gave him visibility a few feet ahead. No surprises were coming his way.
They scurried through all the tunnels they had already gone through. Which meant coming across the break in the tunnels where the Crab People had been killed. Yoshimitsu had found the clothes and bones of the victims there. Would the Mole People (yes, seriously, the Mole People) use the same room or would they avoid the carcasses? If that area had been their killing floor or whatever they used it for, then Yoshimitsu had to hang back a little farther so he could assess the situation. Watch them for a moment to see how many were together, how they moved so he could plan an attack, make sure there wouldn't be more forces to contend with. He wasn't going to allow anymore mistakes.
He stalled behind a rock formation, katana held to his side to hide the dark light. The sounds of the child carried down the tunnel where he listened for any sounds of harm. Instead he heard the unbelievably irritating chanting of the Mole People, repeating over and over as they spoke their names. Their victim sounded like whatever had gagged their mouth was taken off, his cries for help echoing through the halls of the cave. It was time to move in. Yoshimitsu stepped lightly, moving toward the noises. Removing Fumaken from the sheath on his back, the battling monk stood in the inner cave's entrance, both weapons at the ready. He couldn't allow there to be any more victims.
The Mole People were all scrawny, lithe trolls. Saggy skin, emaciated muscles, blank white eyes and long dirty claws. He was more grossed out than enraged, but both feelings were enough to spur him into action. Their disgusting wrinkled faces twitched as they smelled the air. The group looked in his direction, giving Yoshimitsu a second to count the six of them. Six Mole People and one child. He rolled his neck and shrugged his shoulders. It'd been a while since he was in a fight like this.
Leaping with great muscular strength, Yoshimitsu came close to hitting the looming cave ceiling as he ascended. The Mole People hissed and dropped the child as they tried tracking the man who was interfering with their plans. Yoshimitsu used Fumaken in his left hand, his wrist spinning rapidly to hover him directly over the group. Moving the make-shift helicopter blade in front of him, the swordsman used the rush of air to fall into a front flip, bringing both katanas down into a heavy slamming strike on whatever poor bastard was in his way. Fumaken severed someone's right arm while the bright purple katana cut deep in another's left thigh. Both squealed in reaction as the other four backed away. His left arm bent impossibly at the elbow to slash backwards, ripping open the Mole Man along his ribs to his abdomen. In the same cut, his right slipped out of the leg wound and ran the other Mole Man through the stomach. Both dropped trying to hold their bodies together.
He felt a claw on his back, the long black coat threatening to tear away. Yoshimitsu held Fumaken close to his chest, the cursed blade out straight. On one foot he spun around, cutting the hand off of his attacker. Pushing off once more he spun again, faster, ripping open the chest. Another revolution, splitting the collarbone in half. One more time, violet energy running right through the beast's temple. His bright LEDs evolved into spinning swirls as Yoshimitsu stumbled around. The room was taunting him, going around in circles. He felt everything in his stomach turning on him. He was too old for this shit.
The Mole People saw an opening, the remaining three pouncing on their confused target. Only Yoshimitsu had already dropped onto his back, watching the ceiling melt into a mess of naked Mole Men jumping overhead. It was like a twirling kaleidoscope of shadows, pale skin and wrinkled dicks.
Rolling onto his side, his left hand helped push him to his knees. Everything came back into focus as he reached for his weapons. He grabbed them in time for the last three to jump him successfully. Claws struck his mask, harmlessly clawing at him as Yoshimitsu was thrown onto his back. He felt one of the gross bastards biting his leg, the other trying to pry Fumaken from his hand. Unlucky for that one, Fumaken was always in his left, his robotic arm. He rotated his forearm and cut through the Mole Man, rolling over the body. His foot kicked the one gnawing on him, nailing it in the jaw. Yoshimitsu popped up onto one leg, both swords held defensively. He rocked his head from side to side. Put his foot back down on the ground, raising both swords overhead. His torso leaned forward, bending at the hip, hands and swords touching the ground. One leg went up, the second following as he went into a handstand.
Of course the Mole Men couldn't quite see this trick, but they could tell he was in one spot and not moving. The last two ran at their attacker who rolled forward into a somersault, swinging both blades right into the monsters, piercing their soft naked flesh and running them through completely. Victory.
Yoshimitsu stood and slaked the blood from his weapons, returning them to their respective sheaths. He inspected each of the bodies to make sure they were either dead or on their way to whatever hellish creator they belonged to. He didn't show them the mercy of putting them out of their misery. He was more worried about the child who was curled up behind a stalagmite. It was a small boy in blue pajamas who was tired from all the screaming and crying. Yoshimitsu crouched to get on his level, the child eventually looking at his mask. The eyes alternated from small to wide, rolling from corner to corner and turning into stars. The kid smiled just a bit. That's all he needed.
“Hey grasshopper,” He said quietly, extending his hand, “Those gross things are gone now. We should get you home to bed.” The boy nodded and stood up, hugging to the stalagmite, still not sure of this new stranger.
“My name's Yoshimitsu,” He offered, waddling closer to the boy with his hand still reaching out, “I'm with the army here, I help keep you guys all safe.” Finally the boy let go of the rock formation and grabbed onto his hand. The eyes of his mask lit up and expressed his joy. The two began walking out of the cave with Yoshimitsu telling jokes and making the boy laugh. Between their laughter, his eyes scanned the expansive room. Amidst the bleeding dead bodies of the Mole People, Yoshimitsu could see that the Crab People were still lying there. Only instead of their intact bodies, he saw gutted out shells. Well. They did say they were going to “eet Krehb Paypel”.
He returned the boy home before dawn. His name was Martin and his mother and father were very excited to see him home and safe. Yoshimitsu was given praise and thanks for being vigilant and courageous to take on foul creatures on his own. The mother even gave him a kiss on the cheek, making his eyes flash into big blue digitized hearts. City patrol escorted Yoshimitsu back to the barracks so they could let the captains know where their recruit had been. Of course Yoshimitsu didn't stick around for that boring stuff. He wanted to sleep. They allowed him to hit the cot and rest. At least until it was time to get up for drills again.
Really he wanted to reflect. He had been caught up in making sure the child was safe that he didn't get to sweep the area. Was the threat truly over? Did killing more things equal to a cleared conscience for killing innocent beings? How could he possibly repent? This felt beyond the scope of the teachings passed on to him since childhood. Which meant he had to forge his own path. Make his own rules for these matters. At least he had principles and precepts to apply to life. Like with any unjust crime, he could work towards setting the wrong right. He would make sure the Crab People were honored in some way. He wasn't quite sure how, but a thought form entered his mind. But it had to grow. Build into something logical. He'd visit the idea again when he knew what he wanted to do. But he would not forget the innocent Crab People. He couldn't let his self righteous attitude make choices for him again.
He saw himself as one of the creatures. Only they weren't the monstrous Crab People they had fought. They were just lobsters and crabs. Tiny, insignificant ocean dwellers. As one of these animals he saw giant boots and overwhelmingly black cloak moving toward him. Straining the antennae he could see the violently red face of the man with a sword. Emotionless blue lights drew closer. It became frightening. A monster came at him. Scared, he backed away, using the language of his kind to warn the others to run. Before the message could get out, a mighty foot squashed him. His hardened shell crumbling under the weight of the calloused beast. And suddenly he was in another body.
He watched as his own body stomped and flattened and smeared the body all over the cave floor. Laughter and shouts rang like thunder in the distance. The small body of the crab turned to see more freakish giants running toward his family. He tried scuttling away but found he was trapped. Predators cornered him as they slaughtered everyone else. Brothers and sisters all crying out before being silenced forever. It was tragic. Heartbreaking. Yet he felt no anger. Just pity and terror. And then he felt nothing at all as heavy metal weapons struck him and cleaved him to pieces.
But there he was watching the carnage from another body. This one fading in and out of this world and into the next. In the back of his primal brain he could hear the voice of his enemies. Not the ones who ambushed his group, but the ones they had been struggling against for so long that it was instinct to hate and fear their scent. They laughed and sneered. Their disgusting whiskers and sharp teeth twitching as they watched from the darkness. All this time they had tried everything to stay safe from these masters of shadows and yet they simply sent giants to destroy them. They just wanted to survive this world, but here they were, dying. Things kept fading to reality, where the red faced demon was taking the spirits of his kin, ensuring they would never find peace in whatever after life existed for arthopods. The sound of ogre steps got louder and louder until one bent antenna could see the monster standing over him. He had to let this thing know of the true danger. The real enemy. Maybe they would mercilessly kill the predators as they were.
Yoshimitsu's eyes flashed to life. Alert and sober, he sat up from his cot. The sounds of snoring was all around him. The eyes manually blinked as they adjusted to the lack of light. He knew what he had to do. Not only for his own peace of mind, but for the sake of this city. He made a grave mistake, one that would certainly disturb his soul. But not like it would if he didn't keep his promise to put an end to the abductions. The warrior would protect the people, he would atone for the murder of the Crab People and punish the evil of the Mole People. And he would do it alone. The way he always did things.
The night sky provided enough light for him to navigate back to the caves on his own. It was dim, but then again, so was he. His shame was complete and his beliefs wouldn't allow him to make excuses. What he had done was kill innocents. Even if he didn't believe that inhuman creatures were entirely innocent, he still hadn't witnessed any wrongdoing and had immediately executed them for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Which led him to some scary questions he had about his weapon that did all the killing. If they were innocent...why did the curse take their blood and give way to hibernation? His katana was supposed to only feed off wicked spirits. That mystery unnerved him slightly. But it was one he would have to solve at another time. If he allowed his own injustice to exist without correction then he would be deserving of the full effect of the curse. He needed to assure his own purity first.
He saw the caves in the distance. And in front of the cave mouth they had entered, he saw a small group of dark figures carrying something. They definitely weren't the Crab People. These creatures were small, hunched over. They had long limbs and looked naked. Nothing like the large armored and slow beasts he had seen earlier that day. And what they were carrying looked like a child. Helpless, squirming, crying in a muffled voice. If he had left all of this alone then there would be a murder on his hands. It paid to meditate on your actions, as ugly as some of those actions ay be.
Quietly he followed the strange beings into the cave system. They had about five minutes on him, but there was no chance they could escape. The soft sounds of the child were echoing gently through the tunnel, giving Yoshimitsu an audible trail to follow. He silently drew the cursed blade Yoshimitsu from its protective saya, the deep purple glow becoming a valuable light source as he walked through the cavern. The blue lights from his mask allowed him to see just as well as the first time, but the poisonous plume of color gave him visibility a few feet ahead. No surprises were coming his way.
They scurried through all the tunnels they had already gone through. Which meant coming across the break in the tunnels where the Crab People had been killed. Yoshimitsu had found the clothes and bones of the victims there. Would the Mole People (yes, seriously, the Mole People) use the same room or would they avoid the carcasses? If that area had been their killing floor or whatever they used it for, then Yoshimitsu had to hang back a little farther so he could assess the situation. Watch them for a moment to see how many were together, how they moved so he could plan an attack, make sure there wouldn't be more forces to contend with. He wasn't going to allow anymore mistakes.
He stalled behind a rock formation, katana held to his side to hide the dark light. The sounds of the child carried down the tunnel where he listened for any sounds of harm. Instead he heard the unbelievably irritating chanting of the Mole People, repeating over and over as they spoke their names. Their victim sounded like whatever had gagged their mouth was taken off, his cries for help echoing through the halls of the cave. It was time to move in. Yoshimitsu stepped lightly, moving toward the noises. Removing Fumaken from the sheath on his back, the battling monk stood in the inner cave's entrance, both weapons at the ready. He couldn't allow there to be any more victims.
The Mole People were all scrawny, lithe trolls. Saggy skin, emaciated muscles, blank white eyes and long dirty claws. He was more grossed out than enraged, but both feelings were enough to spur him into action. Their disgusting wrinkled faces twitched as they smelled the air. The group looked in his direction, giving Yoshimitsu a second to count the six of them. Six Mole People and one child. He rolled his neck and shrugged his shoulders. It'd been a while since he was in a fight like this.
Leaping with great muscular strength, Yoshimitsu came close to hitting the looming cave ceiling as he ascended. The Mole People hissed and dropped the child as they tried tracking the man who was interfering with their plans. Yoshimitsu used Fumaken in his left hand, his wrist spinning rapidly to hover him directly over the group. Moving the make-shift helicopter blade in front of him, the swordsman used the rush of air to fall into a front flip, bringing both katanas down into a heavy slamming strike on whatever poor bastard was in his way. Fumaken severed someone's right arm while the bright purple katana cut deep in another's left thigh. Both squealed in reaction as the other four backed away. His left arm bent impossibly at the elbow to slash backwards, ripping open the Mole Man along his ribs to his abdomen. In the same cut, his right slipped out of the leg wound and ran the other Mole Man through the stomach. Both dropped trying to hold their bodies together.
He felt a claw on his back, the long black coat threatening to tear away. Yoshimitsu held Fumaken close to his chest, the cursed blade out straight. On one foot he spun around, cutting the hand off of his attacker. Pushing off once more he spun again, faster, ripping open the chest. Another revolution, splitting the collarbone in half. One more time, violet energy running right through the beast's temple. His bright LEDs evolved into spinning swirls as Yoshimitsu stumbled around. The room was taunting him, going around in circles. He felt everything in his stomach turning on him. He was too old for this shit.
The Mole People saw an opening, the remaining three pouncing on their confused target. Only Yoshimitsu had already dropped onto his back, watching the ceiling melt into a mess of naked Mole Men jumping overhead. It was like a twirling kaleidoscope of shadows, pale skin and wrinkled dicks.
Rolling onto his side, his left hand helped push him to his knees. Everything came back into focus as he reached for his weapons. He grabbed them in time for the last three to jump him successfully. Claws struck his mask, harmlessly clawing at him as Yoshimitsu was thrown onto his back. He felt one of the gross bastards biting his leg, the other trying to pry Fumaken from his hand. Unlucky for that one, Fumaken was always in his left, his robotic arm. He rotated his forearm and cut through the Mole Man, rolling over the body. His foot kicked the one gnawing on him, nailing it in the jaw. Yoshimitsu popped up onto one leg, both swords held defensively. He rocked his head from side to side. Put his foot back down on the ground, raising both swords overhead. His torso leaned forward, bending at the hip, hands and swords touching the ground. One leg went up, the second following as he went into a handstand.
Of course the Mole Men couldn't quite see this trick, but they could tell he was in one spot and not moving. The last two ran at their attacker who rolled forward into a somersault, swinging both blades right into the monsters, piercing their soft naked flesh and running them through completely. Victory.
Yoshimitsu stood and slaked the blood from his weapons, returning them to their respective sheaths. He inspected each of the bodies to make sure they were either dead or on their way to whatever hellish creator they belonged to. He didn't show them the mercy of putting them out of their misery. He was more worried about the child who was curled up behind a stalagmite. It was a small boy in blue pajamas who was tired from all the screaming and crying. Yoshimitsu crouched to get on his level, the child eventually looking at his mask. The eyes alternated from small to wide, rolling from corner to corner and turning into stars. The kid smiled just a bit. That's all he needed.
“Hey grasshopper,” He said quietly, extending his hand, “Those gross things are gone now. We should get you home to bed.” The boy nodded and stood up, hugging to the stalagmite, still not sure of this new stranger.
“My name's Yoshimitsu,” He offered, waddling closer to the boy with his hand still reaching out, “I'm with the army here, I help keep you guys all safe.” Finally the boy let go of the rock formation and grabbed onto his hand. The eyes of his mask lit up and expressed his joy. The two began walking out of the cave with Yoshimitsu telling jokes and making the boy laugh. Between their laughter, his eyes scanned the expansive room. Amidst the bleeding dead bodies of the Mole People, Yoshimitsu could see that the Crab People were still lying there. Only instead of their intact bodies, he saw gutted out shells. Well. They did say they were going to “eet Krehb Paypel”.
He returned the boy home before dawn. His name was Martin and his mother and father were very excited to see him home and safe. Yoshimitsu was given praise and thanks for being vigilant and courageous to take on foul creatures on his own. The mother even gave him a kiss on the cheek, making his eyes flash into big blue digitized hearts. City patrol escorted Yoshimitsu back to the barracks so they could let the captains know where their recruit had been. Of course Yoshimitsu didn't stick around for that boring stuff. He wanted to sleep. They allowed him to hit the cot and rest. At least until it was time to get up for drills again.
Really he wanted to reflect. He had been caught up in making sure the child was safe that he didn't get to sweep the area. Was the threat truly over? Did killing more things equal to a cleared conscience for killing innocent beings? How could he possibly repent? This felt beyond the scope of the teachings passed on to him since childhood. Which meant he had to forge his own path. Make his own rules for these matters. At least he had principles and precepts to apply to life. Like with any unjust crime, he could work towards setting the wrong right. He would make sure the Crab People were honored in some way. He wasn't quite sure how, but a thought form entered his mind. But it had to grow. Build into something logical. He'd visit the idea again when he knew what he wanted to do. But he would not forget the innocent Crab People. He couldn't let his self righteous attitude make choices for him again.