Moon One

"One." The boy's eyes glinted briefly in the moonlight as his weapon, a small knife, slid clean through the throat of his victim. An expert killer, the boy turned and did the exact same thing to the figure approaching him from behind. "Two." He continued to count as each shadowed body dropped to the ground, lifeless, as his knife hit their jugulars. "Three, four." There was one figure left, but instead of mindlessly lunging at the boy like the other four had, he stood there, no, rather he levitated there, his blood-red eyes fixated solidly on the boy's every movement. A toothy-grin slowly spread on the boy's otherwise calm face, and in a moment afterwards he had stabbed the figure through the arm, of all places, and slowly traced his knife from the point of impact to his chest.

"Five." The figure's body, instead of bleeding, shattered into hundreds of pieces, falling to the ground below and shattering even further. The boy fell to the ground elegantly and silently, and he began dashing away from the scene, pocketing his knife and crouching closer to the ground as he ran. His eyes had begun glinting in the moonlight again, the night acknowledging his success. The toothy-grin he had misused earlier began to slowly disappear, and he looked back to see multiple figures trailing him not too far behind. His eyes stopped shining again, and he turned quickly, drawing his knife back out of his pocket and landing firmly in front of his pursuers.

They didn't exchange any words, and instead flung themselves all at once straight at the boy, their red eyes challenging him to take them all at once. He seemed to have accepted, quickly dashing between the first three enemies and cutting their throats without even a noticeable movement. The remaining five opponents, realizing their immediate fate when they had challenged this expert assassin, stood there silently, accepting their deaths and allowing the boy to take their lives without any further struggle. The boy didn't hesitate one bit; in a matter of seconds, there were fives newly slain bodies lying on the cold concrete ground, and the boy had begun to sprint away from the scene once more, though he didn't pocket his knife this time.

Lucky for him, no more figures sprang from the eternal darkness surrounding him, though the sun had begun to slowly peek over the horizon, the horizon he could barely see through all of the buildings in the city. "I don't get enough time..." The boy spoke his first words of the night, if you still considered it night, and tucked himself away under a tree in a nearby park. The sun was almost over the buildings now, and the light was pouring over all of the dead bodies that lay askew on the pavement, their lives taken ruthlessly the previous night by a high school boy.

Once the sun had completely risen over the enormous steel trees of the city, the boy slowly rose from his comfortable spot under the tree, beginning to walk away from the sound of the sirens. In a few minutes of leisurely strolling, he was in the city, where the early birds were already hauling themselves to their desk jobs, briefcases in hand, and the garbage men were riding by in their foul-smelling trucks. The boy decided to stop at his favorite spot in the city, the electronics store, where he could hear the news from the TVs and radios, mostly to get information on his next victims. The top story tonight wasn't about some escaped convict or about any gangs that were roughing up a certain part of the town, it was about something that actually interested the boy.

"Our top story; twelve bodies found slaughtered in the back-streets, throats cut wide open. Police have identified it as the work of the infamous serial killer known only by his own letters left behind at some of the scenes as 'Nanaya'. More on this story later on in the morning." The boy smiled, not a full-toothed wild smile, but a small, closed-mouth grin. Hearing about his work on the radio just inspired him even more; the more he killed, the more famous he became. And it wasn't like he was doing anything wrong; anyone or anything that was human definitely deserved to die, even if it resembled a human perfectly. That was something ordinary people would never be able to understand, that he was just paying them back for all of the human lives they had taken in complete secrecy.

"Boy, this Nanaya fella really has something against society, don't you think?" A man asked the boy, Nanaya, from behind him. Nanaya spun around quickly, his blood still hot from the previous night. The man was in his mid 40's, with a gray mustache and balding black and gray hair. He was wearing a khaki suit, and he was holding a briefcase like all of the rest of the early birds. Nanaya only grinned wider, closing his eyes confidently.

"I think that he has a thing against one kind of person in particular...maybe the authorities just haven't figured it out yet." He replied, turning back around and beginning to walk away.

"So you say he's racist or something?" The man asked Nanaya again, slowly following the boy.

"I wouldn't say that...it has more to do with...species." Before the man could ask what he meant by that, Nanaya had disappeared, a small white piece of paper fluttering to the ground where he once stood. The man bent down and picked it up, his eyes widening beyond what they should ever look like, his skin beginning to perspire. All the paper said was one word, one name that represented fear in this modern world. Nanaya.

Down the street, Nanaya was walking calmly through the sea of people, his silver-gray eyes wandering somewhere else, wandering and thinking about where and when his next victim would arrive, how exactly he would kill them, if they had a posse of any kind. His mind was racing with the possibilities, and his mouth began to water; however, his nirvana was cut short when his bent head bumped into a familiar bosom. The black-haired woman, roughly Nanaya's age, set her hands on her hips promptly when spotting who had so rudely bumped into her.

"Shiki, if that's you..." The annoyed voice of Akiha Tohno boomed through Nanaya's ears, his eyes dilating.

"Damnit, you..." Nanaya clenched his fist.

"What do you mean, not happy to see your sister?" Akiha asked him, even more annoyed now. Nanaya didn't say anything back this time; he only reached down into his pocket and drew his knife, looking up and aiming for Akiha's throat.