Riders on the Storm
A black-haired demon stalked through the tall grasses, so silent that he could slit your throat and in your last dying breaths wonder what happened. Midnight's breeze shifted slightly, ruffling his waist-length black hair, and his ears of the same hue pricked up at a sudden noise. He smirked a fangy grin. His prey, a tawny-colored cow, would be an easy kill. It was munching peacefully on some shorter grasses nearby. So... he mused to himself. How to make the kill this time... Usually he merely leapt in and annihalated. But he wanted this one to be less audible-- there was a rather large village of people with nasty-looking weapons nearby and he assumed that the cow belonged to them. Taking out one of his shruikens with barely a swish of his golden kimono, he threw it at the cow's heart with deadly accuracy and enough power to embed the shruiken almost completely into the cow's flesh. It fell, an anguished noise escaping its maw, and under the light of the crescent moon the demon crept in and decapitated the cow silently with a swish of his huge sword, to assure himself it was no longer among the living. He grinned again; this cow would provide him with meat for a couple of nights, at least. Unfortunately, he heard some running footsteps. It only seemed to be one villager, which would be relatively easy to kill. But after he murdered this mortal, he would need to get out of the area. The villagers would likely send out a search party of some sort. Finally, the person came. He looked to be about in his 40's, and a flaming torch was in his right hand, a large hunting knife gripped tightly in his left. "Who are you!" He demanded, a dangerous gleam shining in his brown eyes. The demon sighed boredly; this would be only too easy. Taking his large double-handed sword, he decapitated the man as easily as the cow. "I'll tell you this, " He said coldly to the quickly-dying man, the once-attached head hitting the ground with a dull thud. "I am called... Mukidou."
The fiery sun started to rise, and Mukidou leapt from the large tree he was sleeping in and washed the shruiken that he used to murder the cow last night in the nearby stream. The cow was in chunks in a rucksack he had stolen from a traveler a while ago and used occasionally for big kills such as this. The dead man was somewhere far downstream; that was the one of the easiest ways to get rid of the cadavers. Mukidou knew he would need to get out of the area soon. He couldn't hear any people moving about right now at the moment. Usually mortals slept later than demons did. He ate a small chunk of the meat, grabbed his sword, and started traveling south, though not very hurriedly. He could take on a small party of twenty or so mortals anyways. Walking through a small forest, he sniffed in the morning air appreciatively. It was not often that he could enjoy a nice morning like this-- not too cold, with the occasional warbling bird and the faint smell of a cherry blossom tree. Suddenly, as he passed by a humongous oak, probably the largest tree in the area, an arrow came from behind him, and, before he could react, pinned his right arm to the tree. "What the--!" He growled angrily as another arrow came to pin his undominant arm as well. An aged lady stepped from the shadows with a smirk, her simple attire flapping with a sudden gust of wind. A smug, triumphant look came to her wrinkled features. "You thought you were invincible, didn't you?" She leered at him. "I know you demon kind too well..." a sad look flashed to her icy blue eyes for a moment, then was quickly replaced by anger. "Why did you kill Kogatana?" Mukidou figured that was the guy's name. Narrowing his golden eyes, he spat, "Why does it matter to you, old woman? For all you know, I did it for amusement." She scowled, then stated matter-of-factly, "Well, demon. This is where your life ends. There are fifty warriors coming, and you are pinned to a tree. Your death will be imminent." With that, she held her bow aloft and yelled, "KILL HIM!" Warriors, protected with leather armour or shields and armed with everything from axes to maces to swords of every kind, came charging from the thick foliage, roaring war cries. A drop of sweat trickled down Mukidou's cheek as he quickly devised a way to get out of this alive.