(A/N: Ok, the next story I've begun is an Afro Samurai. It's a really good anime that I felt never got the recognition it deserved. For those of you that haven't seen it, you really should. It's only 5 episodes and a movie, so it goes by fast. Anyway, this story takes place many years after Afro Samurai: Resurrection, so if you've seen the series but haven't seen the movie, I suggest you do, otherwise you'll be confused at certain parts. This story is rated 'T' for now, but that might change later. If anyone thinks it needs a higher rating, please tell me.)
Disclaimer: I own nothing
"AFRO SAMURAI: VENGEANCE"
Chapter 1: Brother 7
Brother 3 sighed as he made his way through the small villa hidden on the mountainside. Behind him, several ninjas clad in black followed him. One of them pushed a stretcher that held the paralyzed Brother 1; a result of losing the last fight he was in several years ago. He was actually very lucky to be alive. Brothers 2, 4, 5, and 6 were all killed in the battle. The only reason why Brother 3 managed to get through unscathed was because he hadn't participated in the fight.
How had things come to this? Everything had been going so well, but all their planning went to hell. The Empty Seven Clan should be ruling this world by now, but one man had ruined all their plans.
Of course, the name Empty Seven suggested that there should be seven brothers. And there were. Brother 7 had been absent from the clan for… certain reasons. But now Brother 1 and 3 needed his assistance.
Brother 3's fists clenched angrily. If it hadn't been for that damn Dream Reading bitch that betrayed them out of love for that damned samurai, they would be ruling already. Why couldn't she have just kill him once she obtained the data of his fighting skills like she was supposed to?
The stupid whore. If she weren't already dead, killed by Brother 2, he'd kill her himself. At the very least, she, indirectly, was providing them with the means to finish what they started all these years later. Soon the Number One headband would belong to them, as it should have been then. And with it would come a power akin to that of God, or so the legend went. But before the Number One headband could be obtained, they first had to get their hands on the Number Two headband.
The legendary Number One and Number Two headbands, two ancient pieces of cloth, representing the two greatest warriors alive. No one knew where they came from, but they had been around for a long, long time. Whoever held the Number One headband was said to gain immortality and godhood. It could be obtained by someone else if they managed to defeat the current Number One. However, only the one who held the Number Two headband could challenge the Number One and win.
No one knew how or why, perhaps by some divine will, but anyone who fought the Number One without the Number Two headband was doomed to fail. Be it by bad luck, a mistake in battle, or some other reason, they would always lose. The only possible way they could win would be if the Number One actually let them, which, of course, never happened. And whenever someone became the Number One, the Number Two headband always found a new owner since, for some reason, it was impossible for a person to keep both the Number One and the Number Two headband. Perhaps it was once again by divine will.
So it was the wielder of the Number Two that always faced hardships. While only they could face Number One, anyone could face Number Two. It resulted in a great deal of bloodshed over the years, that is, until the Number Two headband disappeared years ago.
Now it had finally reappeared, and it would be the Empty Seven, or what was left of it, that would take it. For that, Brother 1 and Brother 3 needed Brother 7.
Coming to the end of the hall, the doors opened for them into a dimly lit room. Beautiful half naked woman danced erotically on the dance floor. Sitting on a large cushion, an old man watched them in the shadows with lustful eyes, yet he made no move towards them, no matter how much he wanted to. For now anyway.
As the group of visitors made their way over to him, a chuckle escaped the old man. "It's been a long time, hasn't it, Brother 1, Brother 3."
Removing his earphones, Brother 3 made sure to keep a good distance between himself and his brother. "Indeed it has, Brother 7."
Brother 1, being unable to speak, simply grunted in response.
Brother 7 ignored the grunted reply and raised a hand towards the dancing women. "So beautiful. So ripe. Yet if I touched them, I will lose them. It is quite a predicament, don't you think? I must limit myself to indulgences of the flesh to only rare occasions, or I'll use up all my women."
"Quite dreadful." Brother 3 agreed. "But we may be able to fix that problem. The Number Two has finally come out in the open."
Brother 7 was silent for a few moments, before he began to chuckle. "Has he now? Interesting." He clapped his hands. "All of you leave!"
The women immediately hurried out of the room, having no desire to be anywhere near Brother 7 in the first place. The lights turning on over Brother 7's head revealed why.
Like most of his brothers, Brother 7 had once had the appearance of an old man with a deformed cone-shaped head and a long white beard. His appearance now was hardly even human, let alone that of his brothers. All throughout his long life, his body had been ravaged by countless diseases. Leprosy, smallpox, syphilis, multiple forms of cancer, and the bubonic plague, more commonly known as the black death, were but a few of the many ailments that he currently suffered from; not to mention many new ones that have appeared over the years. His skin itself had turned a sick greenish black color, resembling the affliction of gangrene, which he actually had on numerous parts of his body. In all honesty, even with modern medicine and Professor Dharman's sadistic "healing methods", it was no less than a miracle that he was alive for more than a month since he became ill. His body had become so poisonous that even the countless species of parasites that had ravaged his body could no longer survive inside him.
Many believed, his own brothers included, that he alone was suffering for all the sins the Empty Seven Clan committed over the years, and that these diseases were the punishment for such wicked deeds. Because of this, he was often referred to as "Brother Unlucky Number Seven". Out of fear of contamination, Brother 7 had been isolated from the others.
On top of his misshapen head, where the number seven was tattooed, Brother 7 wore a very large sedge hat that had a type of decontaminated transparent curtain hanging down around him to protect others from his diseases, yet there were still those that became ill. He even wore thick leather gloves over his hands to further reduce risk of infecting things he touched. Brother 7 was quite literally and figuratively rotten to his very core, his diseases reaching into his very bone marrow.
To sooth his rotting flesh and decrease the rate the diseases ate at his blackened skin, he wrapped his entire body in bloody tourniquets stripped from human flesh; a fate normal given to the women he forced himself upon since they wouldn't live long after becoming infected anyway. Great deals of puss seeped out of the openings of these salves, soaking into his robes to the point that it seeped straight through, leaving wet patches over various areas.
Brother 3 felt his lips stretch into a frown of disgust. He really wished his brother had left the lights off. It was bad enough having to smell the diseased man's putrid flesh; did he have to see him as well? Several flies were constantly present outside the curtain surrounding him. Not that Brother 7 could do much about the smell since he was unable to bathe, the very water becoming poison if he stepped into it; not to mention it aggravated his rotten skin.
"So," said Brother 7, staring at his brothers with bloodshot eyes that had turned yellow from his bad liver, "the Number Two is on the move, is he?"
Brother 3 nodded. "He is. He's on his way to Mount Shumi to face the Number One."
Brother 7 stroked what was left of his long beard that had permanently been stained a yellowish color from the diseased bodily fluids that constantly ran down it. "Then the time has finally come for us to make our move."
"It has." Brother 3 agreed.
"And I suppose that means we'll be taking our little girl and our pet with us."
"They are the only ones who stand a chance against the Number One, and we do owe our little girl her chance at revenge."
Brother 7 grinned, exposing rotten yellow and brown cavity covered teeth heavily infected with scurvy and gingivitis. "Yes, she has been so looking forward to it. And even if she does fail, no one can defeat our pet. Not anymore."
"Either way," Brother 3 continued, "the Number One headband will soon be in our possession, and we will have the power of God in our hands."
Brother 7 chuckled. "The power of God. Think about it; us as gods. We'd be more like devils. That'd be more appropriate, don't you think? With the Number One headband, we will wield the power of Satan himself."
Brother 3 wisely chose not to respond to this. He knew that the constant pain his brother suffered over the years had turned him into a bitter, wicked person. "Shall we prepare to leave then, brother?"
Brother 7's gaze settled on him. "Yes," he replied, slowly raising his hand, "let's get started."
He snapped his fingers. A second later, both Brother 1 and Brother 3 received a shower of blood from behind them. Whirling around, Brother 3 saw his followers drop dead to the ground, sliced to pieces. Whoever had cut them was already gone.
He turned back to his brother. "Brother 7, what's the meaning of- gah!"
A sword burst through his chest before he could finish speaking. Behind him, a person hidden in the shadows stood holding the sword. Brother 3 immediately knew that it was their "pet" that had cut down his followers and stabbed him; no doubt on his brother's orders.
"B-Brother 7… why…?"
Brother 7's grin widened. "Why? What a foolish question to ask. Only one can have the power of God. To be a god means to stand higher than anyone, to be greater than anything. That power can't be split equally among three people, let alone seven; otherwise none of them would have true godhood. Besides, didn't I already tell you that I'd make a better devil than a god? And the devil wouldn't keep around useless companions." He stood up, using a cane to support his rotting body, and approached his brother. "And what have you been, Brother 3, other than completely useless? You only ever stood by listening to your damned music while the rest of us plotted and planned. Tell me, what was it you did to try and get the Number Two headband while our brothers died trying to obtain it? You offered rice and tea while politely asking for the Number Two to give you the headband rather than joining them in battle. Well now you can join them… in Hell."
He nodded to the person behind his brother. The sword in Brother 3's chest immediately twisted and sliced him open. With a gurgling cry, he fell to the ground dead. Then Brother 7 turned his attention to his other brother, who was squirming about as much as he could in his stretcher, his gold metallic arm trying to grab at his restraints.
"As for you, Brother 1, you did a great deal for our clan. You were our leader, and a good one at that. You even made sure I was well taken care of after I was exiled. Unfortunately, in your current condition, you're quite useless. Consider this a mercy killing; something, perhaps, you should have done to me when I first became ill."
He snapped his fingers again. The mysterious swordsman slowly circled around front of Brother 1, who continued to squirm around and make grunting noises.
"Know that I regret having to kill you." Brother 7 told him.
The swordsman stabbed forward. The sword pierced Brother 1's forehead. He immediately went still, his mouth dropping open to unleash one last grunt of protest before he joined the others in death.
"Well done, my pet." Brother 7 told the swordsman.
There was no reply from the swordsman, only the sound of blood dripping from their sword. It was soon followed by another sound, the sound of footsteps as someone else entered the room. Brother 7 turned to them, smiling at the woman coming up behind him.
"Did you hear all that, my dear?" he asked.
"I did." She replied, her tone devoid of emotion.
Brother 7 grinned. "That means the time has finally come. The time to take revenge on the Afro Samurai."
(A/N: Pretty messed up. There's been a lot of talk among fans about whether or not there is a Brother 7 or not since he never appeared, though the name of their clan, the Empty Seven, it implies that there is or was. Some fans believe that Dharma was the seventh brother, but the Afro Samurai websites says that he's not. So, I made up my own Brother 7, and I wanted him to be a really freaky villain. But who are these other two. Brother 7 calls them his "pet" and his "little girl". You'll find out in later chapters. If you stick around, that is. There's gonna be action, drama, tragedy, and lots of humor from everyone's favorite trash-talking ninja. I hope you liked my first chapter and will come back for more.)
