A/N: And here's chapter two. Hope you like it:D
WARNING: STILL MUCH NASTINESS, DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ, PLEASE!!!
Chapter 2 – A Time for Change
A dull thump echoed through the room and blood splattered all nearby as the Elite hit the ground, choking one last breath down before falling completely still. Phael stood erect over the body, half drenched in the blood of his most recent kill and grinning. Many of the Foot who had been watching the killing with undisguised glee averted their eyes at the sight of that grin – that grin that never showed joy, only an intense desire to cause more pain for yet another person.
His gaze lingered on the dead body before him for a long while as he slowly licked his lips clean of the blood that had fallen there. Finally, he looked up and around at all the Foot gathered there, taking in the way their eyes all filled with fear at the thought that he may be looking at them.
His voice came out in a hoarse growl when he spoke. "Anyone else?"
Every face in the room was averted by that point. Each person was trying not to move, not to draw his attention to them. He looked around again, slowly, savoring the fear emanating from them, and then nodded. "Good. I expect not to be challenged again."
He turned and stalked out, back to his bedroom, thinking the whole way. In the two years since he had killed his father, he had been getting almost weekly challenges for the position of leading the Foot. Every opponent that had come his way had wound up just like the last one – beaten, humiliated… dead.
As he entered his room, a smirk crept on to his face. This had been the first time that he had been able to look around the room and not see a defiant face among the frightened. It was quite possible that he had finally won the position he had stolen from his father.
"Raph?"
Phael growled and turned to see who was at the door, though he knew who it was. It was Michael, the Elite who had found him standing over his father's body and who had supported him completely the last two years.
Turning away again after a quick glower, Phael replied, "I thought I told you not to call me that."
"Of course you have, but I've been with you since you were a baby, Raph. I can't call you anything but what I've called you for eighteen years." Michael stepped into the room and stood respectfully by the door, hands behind his back.
Another low growl escaped Phael, but he did not push the issue. Michael was his most loyal man and there was no use in killing him just for calling him by a name he did not use anymore. To distract himself from his anger, he began to speak.
"The Foot clan is in need of change, and lots of it. Now, I have some ideas on how to help better the Foot, but I need to know I'll have the support I'll need." He turned and started hard at Michael. "Do I?"
Michael sighed in a somewhat resigned fashion. "I've told you multiple times, Raphael. You do not need to ask for my support. As long as you will accept it from me, you will have it."
With a curt nod, Phael turned away again, saying, "I have a number of ideas already for changes that need to be made. First of all, we need more members, loyal members who will follow me without hesitation."
"We will begin more rigorous recruiting immediately then."
"Yes. Do. But we need more than that." One of his infamous grins echoed like a shadow across his face. The sight made Michael blanch.
"More than that? What more do we need?"
The grin took up full residence as Phael turned to face Michael. "We need to intensify the breeding programs."
"Intensify… how exactly?"
"More women, preferably women who already have young children that we can admit into the clan."
"What?! Are… are you insane, Raphael? I thought you were going to get RID of that barbaric system that your father set up!"
It was clear by the look on Phael's face that he thought it quite possible that he was insane and didn't mind in the least. He began to pace slowly. "No. It makes sense. If we breed the ninja into the clan, we will have them to train from birth. If we put them through the proper programs to make them loyal to me and me alone, I will have the most faithful followers anyone has ever seen. But the handful of women we have right now aren't enough. We need more to build the army I desire."
Michael watched Phael pace, looking thoughtful and slightly distressed. "Raph… You're talking about dragging more innocents into a harsh lifestyle without their consent."
As the grin widened, Michael took a step back. "That's exactly what I'm talking about."
"But… you can't honestly want to…" Michael trailed off. He could tell by the look on Phael's face that this was exactly what Phael wanted to do and that he had no delusions about helping people. He was doing this for pure power… and perhaps something more that Michael didn't even want to think about.
With a sigh, Michael bowed. "We will start searching women out at once." He straightened and left without another word, knowing that Phael would not listen to any of his arguments against this.
Phael stood staring and grinning at a wall for a number of minutes. In his mind, he saw the Foot as they would be: prosperous, numerous, completely under his control, shaped in his image. From this day on, the Foot would go through a change, starting with the name.
No longer would they be the Foot clan. Those days were behind them. Phael took off his red mask and stared at it, the grin lingering for a moment more before turning into a casual smirk. They would be the Red Foot, the best and most feared ninjas the world had ever seen. And he, Phael, would be their god.