Finally, I was able to edit this, hopefully I can keep to this story now. WARNING: Contains blood, gore, and very naughty language.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, it all belongs to their owners of course. I just love writing about it.
Death is a constant that all of mankind must come to accept. It is said that those who come to terms with this truth become powerful for it and death becomes their weapon; then there are those who wish to fight this letting fear fuel their strength. The length some go through to preserve their own lives eventually poisons the mind and corrupts the mightiest of hearts.
The wasteland was devoid of life, the sand twisting around in the wind, and the bone white trees placed as a reminder of what once may have been in this place. The sun rested above in the sky, as the clouds teased with moments of respite from the light. No normal human could stand the heat, but the samurai was anything but normal. His skills are honed to the finest point like a gem that all who know his name both fear and reverie him and that weapon of destruction he bears. The Reins of the World: the cardboard tube; many wicked hearts have fallen before him, each one deserving of their fate.
He raised his head and smiled for it seemed fate has finally sent a haven. In the distance he can see the outskirt of a village, and with it, hopefully, a restful night. The wind picked up, a vulture screeched above him as it flew ahead. A smell surrounded the samurai, and the smile quickly faded as he recognized the smell. One he was too common with: the smell of death.
The village was a ghost town, only the bodies were still fresh. The samurai walked through the square taking in the scene. People littered the ground; no space was spared from the gore that seeped from the lot. Walls splattered with red depicting the chaos, and various buildings burning as if to ward off death. Corpses of warriors, elders, even women and children, were all laid out for the vultures above to feast. The samurai stopped in his tracks to offer a moment of silence for all the lost souls, but the silence was broken when a cry yelled out.
A few feet away from him, laying under a murder of crows, a man clung to the last thread of life. The samurai dashed to him, drew his weapon, and slashed at the crow sending one to death and the others to the sky.
He could not tell whether this man was truly the source of the sound seeing how he could not guess how one could still be alive with the wounds done to him. His left elbow was caved in, and he had a hole through his chest, along with a massive welt on his head that had turned a sickening purple. The man gasped again, and he stared at the samurai with his one good eye. "Please," he gagged, "save my family, my wife and daughter." The samurai could see the strain on the man's face to lift his right arm, as he used his whole arm in place of his fingers to point to his left down a path that led out of the village. "He went after them. That monster went after them." He coughed before his arm went limp as death arrived. The samurai bowed his head in respect, and then made his trek to fulfill the dying man's wish.
Silence filled the wasteland, as if it anticipated what awaited the samurai within its grasp. A pool of blood was found a few feet out of the village and with it a trail of bloody footsteps. The samurai quickened his pace, hoping to at least be able to save someone. His hope disappeared when he came across a figure poised over two fresh corpses.
The stranger had a blade in hand that he pulled out from one of the corpses, and using his tattered kimono he cleaned it off. From his distance the samurai could make out only a few details of this man. His shoulder length black hair was littered with dirt and twigs, and on his back was a thin 5-foot long object that was wrapped up in bandages. He could tell they were used as a cloth as it was stained in red on several spots.
"How could you do this," questioned the samurai. The stranger did not even twitch at the response, but he did turn to look at him. The samurai gripped the cardboard tube tighter as he noticed the man's eyes. They were devoid of emotion, and if anything he could detect a hint of joy which made him disgusted.
"What's that? How could I do this? Easy," he replied smiling, "like this." The attack was quick, this man was no stranger to a sword, but the samurai easily block the slash made for his neck. The stranger only seemed to bounce off the block, and was quick to launch another attack as he bounded behind him. The samurai used quick footwork to dodge this one, and he retaliated by bringing his cardboard tube down on his blade. It shattered and fell to the ground; being disarmed did not have the desire effect of discouraging the stranger, if anything he seemed happy for it.
He jumped back to avoid a thrust from the cardboard tube. "Well, that was highly unexpected. No skin off my bone anyway, it was not even my blade to begin with." He threw the handle away. He stretched his arms out, "Yeah, I stole it off this guy I was killing, but that's when I noticed that women and her little girl running away. Being the kind man I was I chased after them and let the crows have at him." The samurai could feel his rage bubbling under the surface. The stranger continued with his stretching, "Strangest thing though, he seemed to scream at me to come back. I wonder if he knew them. Wouldn't it be funny if he did, and I used his own sword, the one he probably used countless times to protect them, to kill them." He laughed, and that was the last drop that overflowed the dam. The samurai dashed forward his tube raised high, but the stranger only smiled reaching behind as he pulled out the thing on his back. The tube stopped cold against it, a ringing was heard, but the ringing was also crying. The samurai was taken back for a moment and the stranger took this moment to bring the weapon down on his right shoulder. A crunching sound was heard as the bones on the point of impact were crushed by the end of his weapon. The samurai quickly reacted and jumped back thankfully breaking the attack before it could do any more damage. It slammed against the ground causing the earth to shake for a moment. The samurai touched his shoulder, noting the ice cold feeling around the spot. His arm was useless for now.
The stranger smiled as he undid the bandage around his weapon, revealing a long slim silver thing. "Behold, my friend; you have the honor to die by what some have called the hand of death, the hammer of destruction, the spear of damnation: the Steel Pipe." He twirled it with ease in his left hand, showcasing one end was solid steel and the other end was sharpened to a fine point. As the spear end twirled about it was scratching up the ground, the pipe was eager for battle. "Prepare for death."
He dashed forward brandishing his pipe, even with one arm out of commission the samurai was able to hold off the attack. The two grappled for control over the battle, back and forth, the wasteland playing patron to these two great warriors as they fought. The samurai landed a few slashes to the stranger but he only shrugged them and returned the favor cutting into the samurai's kimono with his spear end. Each one was strong in spirit, both not showing any signs of slowing down. The stranger was enjoying himself, and he gets so delighted in fighting an injured opponent. He focused his attack from the right knowing of the damage he dealt, and attacked with the spear end. The samurai easily dodged the assault, but not before it ripped through the kimono around his right shoulder. The torn fabric fell a little, and instantly something changed in the stranger. In one quick motion he put a vast distance between him and the samurai, his eyes wide like he seen death itself.
"That mark, on your shoulder, where did you get it," he hissed out, the ringing of the pipe intensified like a cornered animal defending itself.
"What does it matter," replied the samurai.
"It matters," shouted the stranger. He gripped his head, 'How can this be, this can't be him.'
He steadied himself, and the decision was made. The pipe seemed to hiss as the icy touch of it froze over. The field lay in ruins, and the two men were coloring it with their blood.
The two stared each other down, as their wounds went unattended to.
The stranger started cackling, before he burst out into laughter. "I thought I would never get the honor to fight you. Out of all my years I have never faced an opponent quite as unique as you. I have to say I am impressed."
He stopped, and remarked, "But I am saddened to say it is about time to end this."
"I could not agree more," responded the samurai.
The duel was on as they eyed each other, waiting for the moment to strike. Wind blew around them offering one last rest before the time came. In one quick motion the two dashed at each other.
The samurai coughed as he was pierced through his side by the pipe, but the stranger roared out when the tube went through his chest piercing his heart. They withdrew their weapons and the two stumbled back. Blood trickled out from both opponents. The samurai's vision became hazy, but he could make out the smile on the stranger's face. He touched the new hole in his chest and laughed.
"You didn't disappoint," the man fell to the ground and died. The samurai fell to his knees, trying his best to maintain conciseness, but the battle was too much, and his energy was spent. He fell to the ground and passed out into the darkness.
The end is not as it seems, for death did not come.
The steel pipe shook at the death of its master, and in one like a bird flew up into the sky. It spun around for awhile before straightening out and flying off. The corpse of the stranger lay dead in a pool of his own blood, till it burst into dirt. From the mound flew a shadow chasing after the pipe. Zooming across the sky it followed the path it took many time before. Over forests, mountains, and cities, it flew heading to the home of the damned; following the pipe on the ground was the shadow.
Standing on the edge of a rocky cliff was a castle; the typical castle of the time, four levels made up this esteemed place, and each one had a balcony for easy observation for the occupants. The steel pipe flew up towards the fourth floor, the shadow following after. A window remained open for just this occasion. It cut corners in the labyrinth like interior of the castle before reaching the center of the maze. Dashing through the door, the occupants, who were at the time having tea, paid it no heed. Landing in front of a double door that led nowhere the steel pipe fell to the ground. The shadow crawled into the room and slid behind the doors. A glow erupted from behind as the room shook. Screams could be heard echoing off the wall as it seemed death itself was calling out in rage. The doors slid open, and the stranger stepped out picking his steel pipe off the ground relishing its icy cold touch against his flesh.
"Hello again, Mr. Blinky, I see you were killed. Tell me which mortal was it this time?" The woman in pink sitting at the table in the center of the room laughed for she did love poking fun at him.
Mr. Blinky scowled at her, "For your information, Ms. Pinky, I was killed by someone special this time."
"Oh," she said feigning surprise, "did you happen to get contact information for a date later?"
"Silence," he roared, "it was him."
She fell silent, and the smaller man in the room started fidgeting. "You mean him him, the one sent to kill us, but that is impossible." He started mumbling to himself out of fear of speaking out.
"Calm yourself Mr. Inky, we don't know for certain yet," she sent a piercing look towards Mr. Blinky for claiming such an outrageous thing.
The fourth member of the group let out a gasp, "Yes."
Silence filled the room as the three listened to their leader, "It . . . is."
He gasped again as drool dribbled from his mouth. A squeak was let out as the invisible demon wrapped around him slithered up to his mouth and wiped away the drool.
"Yes, Mr. C.," answered Ms. Pinky respectfully, "sorry for my outburst."
He started making a gagging sound, his hands twitching, "Prepare . . . death . . . nears."
Back at the battle sight, two scouts were patrolling by order of their master. Nothing was special about them, which is why the master sent them out because there is nothing special about them.
The girl was whistling to herself after just stuffing a crow's corpse into her bag of loot. Her eyes scanned the horizon of the wasteland for anything worth stealing, or as she calls it 'finders keepers'.
She scrunched up her nose, "That village was a total waste of time."
The bigger man commented, "The service was dead there."
"Not even a small dog left." She whined softly. Her foot stopped in mid-air as she spotted something.
"Look, over there," the smaller of the two not-so-special scouts jumped onto the bigger ones head turning it into the direction she was pointing, successfully cracking his neck.
"What I don't see anything but dirt," he replied scratching his head.
"No you fucktard, there in the dirt."
He focused and indeed he could see someone lying in the dirt.
"Well that's not a good place for a nap."
"Let's go see if he has any money on him, or better yet if he is dead."
She jumped off his head giggling as she ran towards her target.
When the two reached their point of interest they both froze.
"Do you know who this is?"
"No."
"The yellow kimono, the cardboard tube?"
He scratched his head, "Still nothing."
"Yeah me neither," she said placing a hand to her chin. She thought about it, turning the gears in her not-so-special-head-so-stop-wondering-about-it brain. Thankfully a light bulb went on, but sadly it was only a 35 watt bulb. "Maybe Master Brahe would know."
"Yeah, he knows everything," commented the big man picking up their bags of loot.
He reached down and pulled the unconsciousness samurai up, draped him over his shoulder and with the girl on his head they both made their way to the fortress of their very-special master.
Hope you enjoyed it, and please, PLEASE, don't hesitate to point out errors because there are some things I am not certain about. All reviews welcome, just please don't flame for it burns, it BURNS! FYI: For those who did not get the reference the names are those of the ghosts from Pac-Man.