I do NOT own the Ginga series! All rights belong to Yoshihiro Takahashi! I, however, own Tamashi!
I remembered it all. Blood, thick and red, flowing on the ground. Dogs – of all sizes, ages, colors, heights, skilled or inexperience – dead. Screams of heart-rending horror and agony filled the air. My hometown, Tengoku (AN: "Heaven" in Japanese), was now considered a hell, where demons were laying waste to everything and everyone I loved. An awful, horrible, and terrible sight to behold before my eyes.
I heard a feminine scream of pain, a name soon following it soon afterwards. "Tamashi!" My mother's voice, calling to me, letting me know where she was. Her screaming meant that she was still alive, still had hope that I was alive as well.
I turned around and saw my mother, a ten-year-old female black Akita with silver tiger stripes and sky blue eyes. My mother, Kokoru (AN: "heart" in Japanese), was once a happy dog – proud, gentle, sweet, and kind. There had never been such a time where she was afraid, until now.
I could easily see the horror gleaming her eyes. I could see her tail curled underneath her legs in submission and fear. I could see her trembling with dread as she looked at something to her left. I followed her direction in which she looked, realizing what she was gaping at.
A large black wolf stood directly in front of her. He was pure black with long ash-grey mane flowing from his neck. He had icy-blue eyes, eyes that seemed to pierce through my mother's already horrified heart. Scars that formed an upside down cross were directly embedded above his left eye.
He was smiling, but not out of a childish, giddiness. Not one out of pride for having defended his pack. This smile was pure sadistic evil. One that enjoyed the suffering that went around him. One that mocked my mother's fear, drinking up her despair. One that seemed eager to have absorbed more of my mother's dreadfulness as she gazed back at him, petrified.
He approached my mother calmly, still smirking his demonic grin. "What a beautiful female," he mocked in a soft, sinister voice that nearly made my heart stop in my chest. Shit, even his voice was sadistic. "I'd hate to have to kill you, my dear."
My mother trembled at the sound of his voice. "Who are you?"
"Oh eager to learn about me, are you?" the wolf mocked, turning his attention from my mother to me. He licked his fangs, looking past me and nodding.
Before I could move, a large paw pinned me down with ease. "Please," I whimpered, "don't kill my mother."
"Oh I don't plan on killing her," the wolf whispered at me evilly. "I just want to make sure the both of you know exactly who I am and what I can do."
"We've already seen what you can do," my mother whimpered. "Please let us go! We won't bother you anymore! We'll leave you alone!"
"'Leave me alone'?" the wolf hissed with his grin. "You're the one that going to be begging for me to leave you alone. Besides, why shouldn't I harm you? It's all part of my enjoyment to see every . . . single . . . one of you dogs suffer such a hell. And if hell is what you're not looking forward to, then you'd better pray to God that you'll fly up to your pitiful excuse of a Heaven."
"Please," my mother begged, "you don't want to do this."
"No," the wolf smiled, only to express his devious leer, "you don't want me to do THIS!"
Before I could move, before anything could happen, the wolf grabbed my mother's neck in his jaws and squeezed hard. There was a loud crunch and the wolf tossed my mother's lifeless body to the ground.
I couldn't believe what I had just saw. A wolf had just brutally taken my mother's life with zero remorse or mercy, all out of his sick ass enjoyment.
I was about to move, but instantly halted when the wolf grinned in my direction. Already I felt horrible chills running through me like a blast of chilly wind. And I felt urine leaking out from between my legs.
"I'm sorry that a beautiful puppy like you had to see such brutality," the wolf leered, not apologetic at all. "But where was the fun of just letting your mother live? If she was able to live, then you'd have someone to comfort you."
The wolf laughed. "But, without your mother – without your entire pack – to watch over you, then you'd be sure to suffer before the hell I've unleashed in your life. And I want you to suffer as much as possible. Why bother killing the last target when you know you can just . . . strip . . . every . . . ounce of happiness from her? Leaving her fear-stricken and traumatized for all her life?"
"Who are you?" I whimpered, impulsively. I honestly did not want to know. I didn't want to remember this bastard's face, in case if we did meet up again. It was just a standard question for almost everyone to ask villains when they did encounter hell itself.
"My name . . . is Scimitar," the wolf leered, grabbing my right hind leg and swinging my head against a rock. In that instant, everything went black.
"AHHHHHH!" I screamed with horror and waking up to my paws. I looked around me with fear, expecting to see Scimitar's leering face. When I didn't, I breathed a sigh of (slight) relief, but didn't relax fully.
It had been three years since that awful hell had burned my entire family – my entire life – to nothing. And in those three years, I had grown from a tiny puppy to a 21-inch tall (at the shoulder) Akita, clearly resembling my mother in every way possible.
However, unlike my mother, I had grown a twisted personality. One that most matched Scimitar's, only I was hell bent on killing every . . . single . . . villain in my way. Every war lord, every puppy abuser, every dog master that used dogs for their own gain, every subordinates under their damned to hell "Leader's" control. And just like in the way my pack suffered, they would be made to suffer as well, only a thousand times worse!
My name is Tamashi of Tengoku.
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