A Rose With Nevermore
Ch. 1: The Son of Nothing
Ten years ago, the last major threat to the Zoanthrope Liberation Front was eliminated. Defeating them in personal combat, Master ShenLong slew Yugo Ohgami, Long Shen, and savagely beat his insubordinate underling, Hajime Busuzima. Consolidating his power, ShenLong's ZLF grew into a major player on the world stage.
He looked his own pallid face in the mirror. His once short brown hair had grown long and black from a lifetime spent in the shadow of death, pulled into a tail. Small drops of sweat beaded down his forehead, stinging his eyes. He sighed, and then draped a long velvet cloak over his shoulders. It rubbed against the fine fabric of the Giorgio Armani suits his employer decreed they wear. His was a sleek violet, black in the shadows that he dwelled. He held in his hand a gun, a small one with small bullets. He fit a silencer to its barrel, and then grabbed his true prize.
It was said to the fabled sword of Murasame, said to be able to draw its victims near and rend their flesh as easily as a hot knife through butter. It had served him well in the nine years since Master ShenLong gave it to him. Unfortunate, that for his ambitions to come to bear, it would draw the blood from that same man.
He pulled away, and walked out of the bathroom. In the living area, his subordinates, Fox and Jenny Burtory, awaited the arrival. They were dressed in a similar fashion to himself, sans cape and with black suits instead of violet. Like him, they carried katanas, though theirs were purely ornamental in nature, and each had a chest-holstered handgun.
"If you want out, now's the time. After this, there's no turning back"
They said nothing. They needn't say anything; their eyes said it all. They were tired of the old guard, and wanted to usher in change. He nodded, and walked by. He opened the door ahead of me, and turned off the lights. He walked down the scarlet-lined hallways of the ZLF headquarters to a large, mahogany door. He motioned for them to stay while approached a set of stairs. He silently ascended, spotting a pair of crimson curtains. "The balcony," he thought. He placed a hand to his earpiece, letting out a small, barely audible whistle.
On his cue, Jenny and Fox burst into the room. With a hail of gunfire, members of the ZLF fell. "All is going according to plan," He smirked. Just then, the lights flew on, and the dozens of armed ZLF fighters stood upon a balcony while even more flooded the room. Amidst the gleaming gunmetal and black suits, a single man stood out. A tall man in a blue gi, he had sinister red eyes and jet-black hair.
"Such insubordination is not tolerated in the ZLF," He said in a voice that could freeze the most passionate heart. "As long as I take breath, upstarts like you..." With that he sprung. Unsheathing his katana, he held the blade close to ShenLong's throat.
"Then you will breathe no more," he said.
"No, you will not," ShenLong smirked. He felt a heavy hand grab the back of his neck, picking him up and throwing him to the floor. He looked up, and saw a woman standing over him. She was tall and muscular, with black hair that fell flat across her face. She wore black leather pants, a black shirt with a skull emblem, and a long, black trench coat. Her eyes were dark and sullen, her skin was gaunt with a deathly pallor, and rightful so, if what they say is true. Her name was Shina Gado, and she was dead.
Shina was one of those who, ten years ago, stood up to the ZLF. She was brutally beaten to death by ShenLong, in front of her adopted father Alan. Her body was to be discarded, but Dr. Hajime Busuzima saw possibilities. No one knows exactly what he did, but months later Shina Gado again walked the earth, a hollow shell of her former self. When ShenLong consolidated his power base, he took Shina as his bodyguard. After all, who better to guard you than one whom death itself can't take?
He took his gun from its holster and fired straight into the heart of the unholy beast. She didn't flinch, only kept her stale gaze and indifferent expression. She slowly strode over, absorbing enough bullets to kill five men, and grabbed him by the neck. Swatting the gun from his hand, she silently brought him before ShenLong.
"Bakuryu, top assassin of the ZLF. Ambition is not like you, young man, why have you done this?"
He stayed silent.
"Defiant to the last," Shenlong smirked. ShenLong motioned Shina to bring Bakuryu to the edge of the balcony, where below Fox and Jenny knelt, bound with guns fixed on the back of their heads. "Show them the price of treason."
The shots rang out simultaneously. Two shots, two bodies hitting the floor. Deep inside, Bakuryu cursed ShenLong. ShenLong glared at him.
"You'll die for this," Bakuryu said.
"I know, such is the fate of all flesh. But not now, and not by you, young Bakuryu. Take him downstairs."
"If you're going to kill me, do it now," he growled.
"You will not decide your fate. You must be made an example of. Only when you are beaten and broken, and swear allegiance to me, will I allow you to die." Bakuryu felt Shina strike a clubbing blow to the back of his head, and his sight faded to black.
Hours faded to days to weeks. Shenlong and his goons visited all sorts of torment on Bakuryu. Electrocution, burning, stabbing, slicing, beating, and even more tools he did not wish to recollect. His body had grown weak, but his mind stayed strong. "As long as I draw breath, ShenLong, I will curse your existence."
He was sitting in his cell one day, when he overheard ShenLong speaking to his minions. "He is too weak," ShenLong said, "he mustn't be killed yet." A disappointed sigh came from a man's lips, but none dared defy the master. Bakuryu's senses started to come back to him in the respite. The first thing he saw was a young woman in the cell across from him. She smiled warmly and waved to him.
"What is your name?" she asked innocently. How she managed to stay so in this den of Hell was beyond him.
"You shouldn't speak to me. I'm a dead man walking, and you'd be the same."
"Oh how corny! You're too young and handsome to talk like that!" she admonished. "Anyway, I'm Uriko. There, now you know my name, its only polite you tell me yours."
Bakuryu chuckled. Such naiveté he did not believe existed. Maybe it was some primal instinct, a need for human contact that drew him to her. He sighed, and prepared to say his name, but stopped. "No," he thought, "I'm not him anymore. He was loyal to ShenLong, I am not."
"Kenji. My name is Kenji."
Ch. 1: The Son of Nothing
Ten years ago, the last major threat to the Zoanthrope Liberation Front was eliminated. Defeating them in personal combat, Master ShenLong slew Yugo Ohgami, Long Shen, and savagely beat his insubordinate underling, Hajime Busuzima. Consolidating his power, ShenLong's ZLF grew into a major player on the world stage.
He looked his own pallid face in the mirror. His once short brown hair had grown long and black from a lifetime spent in the shadow of death, pulled into a tail. Small drops of sweat beaded down his forehead, stinging his eyes. He sighed, and then draped a long velvet cloak over his shoulders. It rubbed against the fine fabric of the Giorgio Armani suits his employer decreed they wear. His was a sleek violet, black in the shadows that he dwelled. He held in his hand a gun, a small one with small bullets. He fit a silencer to its barrel, and then grabbed his true prize.
It was said to the fabled sword of Murasame, said to be able to draw its victims near and rend their flesh as easily as a hot knife through butter. It had served him well in the nine years since Master ShenLong gave it to him. Unfortunate, that for his ambitions to come to bear, it would draw the blood from that same man.
He pulled away, and walked out of the bathroom. In the living area, his subordinates, Fox and Jenny Burtory, awaited the arrival. They were dressed in a similar fashion to himself, sans cape and with black suits instead of violet. Like him, they carried katanas, though theirs were purely ornamental in nature, and each had a chest-holstered handgun.
"If you want out, now's the time. After this, there's no turning back"
They said nothing. They needn't say anything; their eyes said it all. They were tired of the old guard, and wanted to usher in change. He nodded, and walked by. He opened the door ahead of me, and turned off the lights. He walked down the scarlet-lined hallways of the ZLF headquarters to a large, mahogany door. He motioned for them to stay while approached a set of stairs. He silently ascended, spotting a pair of crimson curtains. "The balcony," he thought. He placed a hand to his earpiece, letting out a small, barely audible whistle.
On his cue, Jenny and Fox burst into the room. With a hail of gunfire, members of the ZLF fell. "All is going according to plan," He smirked. Just then, the lights flew on, and the dozens of armed ZLF fighters stood upon a balcony while even more flooded the room. Amidst the gleaming gunmetal and black suits, a single man stood out. A tall man in a blue gi, he had sinister red eyes and jet-black hair.
"Such insubordination is not tolerated in the ZLF," He said in a voice that could freeze the most passionate heart. "As long as I take breath, upstarts like you..." With that he sprung. Unsheathing his katana, he held the blade close to ShenLong's throat.
"Then you will breathe no more," he said.
"No, you will not," ShenLong smirked. He felt a heavy hand grab the back of his neck, picking him up and throwing him to the floor. He looked up, and saw a woman standing over him. She was tall and muscular, with black hair that fell flat across her face. She wore black leather pants, a black shirt with a skull emblem, and a long, black trench coat. Her eyes were dark and sullen, her skin was gaunt with a deathly pallor, and rightful so, if what they say is true. Her name was Shina Gado, and she was dead.
Shina was one of those who, ten years ago, stood up to the ZLF. She was brutally beaten to death by ShenLong, in front of her adopted father Alan. Her body was to be discarded, but Dr. Hajime Busuzima saw possibilities. No one knows exactly what he did, but months later Shina Gado again walked the earth, a hollow shell of her former self. When ShenLong consolidated his power base, he took Shina as his bodyguard. After all, who better to guard you than one whom death itself can't take?
He took his gun from its holster and fired straight into the heart of the unholy beast. She didn't flinch, only kept her stale gaze and indifferent expression. She slowly strode over, absorbing enough bullets to kill five men, and grabbed him by the neck. Swatting the gun from his hand, she silently brought him before ShenLong.
"Bakuryu, top assassin of the ZLF. Ambition is not like you, young man, why have you done this?"
He stayed silent.
"Defiant to the last," Shenlong smirked. ShenLong motioned Shina to bring Bakuryu to the edge of the balcony, where below Fox and Jenny knelt, bound with guns fixed on the back of their heads. "Show them the price of treason."
The shots rang out simultaneously. Two shots, two bodies hitting the floor. Deep inside, Bakuryu cursed ShenLong. ShenLong glared at him.
"You'll die for this," Bakuryu said.
"I know, such is the fate of all flesh. But not now, and not by you, young Bakuryu. Take him downstairs."
"If you're going to kill me, do it now," he growled.
"You will not decide your fate. You must be made an example of. Only when you are beaten and broken, and swear allegiance to me, will I allow you to die." Bakuryu felt Shina strike a clubbing blow to the back of his head, and his sight faded to black.
Hours faded to days to weeks. Shenlong and his goons visited all sorts of torment on Bakuryu. Electrocution, burning, stabbing, slicing, beating, and even more tools he did not wish to recollect. His body had grown weak, but his mind stayed strong. "As long as I draw breath, ShenLong, I will curse your existence."
He was sitting in his cell one day, when he overheard ShenLong speaking to his minions. "He is too weak," ShenLong said, "he mustn't be killed yet." A disappointed sigh came from a man's lips, but none dared defy the master. Bakuryu's senses started to come back to him in the respite. The first thing he saw was a young woman in the cell across from him. She smiled warmly and waved to him.
"What is your name?" she asked innocently. How she managed to stay so in this den of Hell was beyond him.
"You shouldn't speak to me. I'm a dead man walking, and you'd be the same."
"Oh how corny! You're too young and handsome to talk like that!" she admonished. "Anyway, I'm Uriko. There, now you know my name, its only polite you tell me yours."
Bakuryu chuckled. Such naiveté he did not believe existed. Maybe it was some primal instinct, a need for human contact that drew him to her. He sighed, and prepared to say his name, but stopped. "No," he thought, "I'm not him anymore. He was loyal to ShenLong, I am not."
"Kenji. My name is Kenji."