Standard disclaimers apply.

Author's Note: Ok everyone, before you go on reading 'The Slew of Darkness', READ THIS FIRST because I'm going to drop you some information about this story.

1. This is an OCC fanfic.

2. It is set during the Bakumatsu period, the dark days of Japan.

3. Most of the characters' profile: age, personality, etc, have been twisted and screwed according to the change of setting.
– Take Kenshin for example. He's 27 years old or so, the same age as when he met Kaoru in the manga. Except in this fic, he is STILL Battousai. More importantly, he has only one slash on his left cheek. I repeat, Kenshin does NOT have the cross-shaped scar YET.
– Kaoru. She's still 18, turning 19. But her birth date and everything else has been changed to suit this fanfiction. She knows nothing about the Kamiya Kasshin Ryu technique.
– Enishi is not the child he was in the manga during the Bakumastsu. He's 21 and his sister, Tomoe is 25.

4. Last but not least, the dates in this story are all according to the calendar 2004.

Alright, it's enough of my blabber already and on with the fic.

To the Reviewers: ALL comments are welcome, especially constructive ones.

This chapter is R-Rated for Violence and Language. Do not proceed if you are uncomfortable with such. I apologize for any inconvenience caused.

The Slew of Darkness
by Diabolic Angel

-

Prologue: Raining Blood

Men heap together the mistakes of their lives,

And create a monster they call Destiny.

-- John Oliver Hobbes

Bakumatsu, 31 July 1845 – night

In the midst of chasmic Japan where secrets unfold, there lies an unfathomable legend unknown to many, that an ancient barrier of violence and annihilation will walk the Earth upon a dreadful curse cast by a Dark Lord engulfed in hatred and jealousy. The one with the power to vanquish approaches… born to those who have angered him, born as the seventh month dies. It is said that this massive, yet graceful entity is destined to destroy all who stands in its way, for she will have power no one knows not.

But by using the enchanted mystical stone created by anger and loathe, one could control its inundating abilities, whether to use it for good... or for evil. The one with the power to vanquish will be born as the seventh month dies…

Now, it begins.

Night completely enveloped Japan in its portentous sea of darkness. It was all the greater because it was enclosed like a trap between the walls of houses and buildings. It rose unevenly from the streets of Tokyo. The full moon bathed its ambience with its luminescent glow, glowing precariously in the silent night. A red ring of light overlapping its perimeter, it signaled to all mankind that the guardian of the dark spirit is to be born today. The blood on the moon…

It was time.

On the first stroke of midnight, when the child draws her first breath and releases the lusty cry of a newborn, the wheels of the baby's destiny will begin to toll. With that, she will taste the power – the richness of it, and the bitterness. It is on this fateful day that the guardian will be summoned to Earth with a deadly purpose. However, the spirit from within will not be unleashed just yet, not until the child's nineteenth birthday. Only then will the one who 'opened' its gates of hell bring forth a new era more petrifying than Death itself. And all will be ushered in through the bloody battles between the human races. War.

The time of a new tragedy is approaching. Guided by destiny. The one who holds the key to the fate of the world…

…The moon child.


Bakumatsu, 31 August 1845 – night

Walking. Walking down the charcoal path in the gloom, breathing in smells of stagnant water and rotting leaves. Featureless walls of empty houses seemingly melted like old lead glass panes, sinking in desperation into whatever waits beneath. A dark field of tough grass, lined with huge, broad-leaved trees, lending the string of dead grass to the moist earthy piles of yellow leaves. Broken pebbles scrunched. One set of shallow prints behind. Overhead, the night.

At the end of the path, a lone streetlight, a stark yellow circle on the shingle in the distance. A slight shiver. A figure moved swiftly, face a blur, curls of white smoke clearly visible in the beam, rising and falling. There was a faintest hint of shiny metal near the belt. His cautious steps closed the distance between him and a poorly built-up shack ever so slightly, living in almost complete isolation from all surrounding activity. Footsteps echoed down the empty road.

He was coming.

The cinereous clouds threatened with thunder, marching from far away with increasing tread. Instantly, a curtain of rain beat down from the heavens. It became chillingly cold and wet with a brisk wind sweeping the heavy downpour across the deserted area. Quickly he sprinted, his destination up ahead. He drew his sword from the hilt, metal clashing with the rain. With a hard kick, the wooden door swung open wildly and slammed against the cracked wall with a strident bang.

A couple, stunned by the loud noise, woke up from their deep slumber in alarm. A fire which had been built kept them warm, their bodies wrapped in their own clothing and a diaphanous blanket. Their vision slowly adjusted to the murky environment. A shadow of an unknown figure standing at the doorway came to their blurry sight.

Cloaked in black, his gi and hakama drenched, soaking him to the bones and clinging to his muscled body uncomfortably. A bolt of lightening raged in fury behind, providing a second of light to catch a quick glimpse of the stranger's face. Green doleful eyes reflected. His short ebony mass of hair stuck to his features in patches. An impetuous nature and a rough exterior. The turbulent aura of an assassin radiating from him never went unnoticed.

The young woman's eyes clouded with apprehension, unconsciously bringing her daughter closer in her protective embrace. A haunted haze of fear empowered her.

"Who are you?" Her husband asked suspiciously. With numb hands, he reached for the bokken behind him with caution.

The dark figure spoke, his voice fastidious and authoritative, "Who I am is no concern of yours, Kamiya Hiroshi." He paused briefly as he watched the man's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Glumly, he continued, "Yes, I know who you are. But your life means nothing to me. I only came for the child."

"Why? What do you want from her?"

The stranger fell silent for a moment, studying Hiroshi's face with a critical eye. "Why ask me a question you already know the answer to?" he asked eventually.

"What the hell are you talk –" Hiroshi stopped short, his eyes rocketing wide as though he'd just been punched in the gut. A tense moment followed.

"No…" he muttered in horror, shaking his head vigorously causing his dark hair to fall into his eyes. "No. You can't have her. She's mine."

"She was never yours, Kamiya, and you clearly know it. Give the baby to me. Now."

"No!"

With that, Hiroshi released a piercing battle cry and charged at full speed, the bokken enclosed in his callous hands in a tight grip. His enemy easily blocked his attack and went in for a counter in no time. It was so brisk that Hiroshi was barely able to dodge his first swing, but immediately regained his foothold. Going for the legs, he swung the bokken agilely. The adversary's feet lifted off the ground and came down from above. At the final moment, Hiroshi raised his arms up, blocking the blade with the bokken, his wrists crossed underneath to give it support. The blade could not go through.

Realization dawned upon Kamiya Keiko. The Kasshin succession technique!

Not bad, but not good enough. His opponent immediately seized the opportunity to flip the sword around and slam the tip of the handle into Hiroshi's right eye. Hard. He staggered backwards, swearing at the pain. Tenderly, he touched his bruised eye. Red stained his finger tips. Dozens of emotions exploded within him. His clammy hand balled into a fist, frustration welling up inside his gut.

The two spurted towards each other, passing by with a single hit. Their backs face to face, both waiting for the outcome. The figure was left unharmed while Hiroshi had been badly wounded on his right shoulder. Clutching his injury, he fell weakly on one knee, biting back pain.

Turning around, the anonymous person flicked the blood off the steel complacently. He came at his target right away, his blade coming at a diagonal.

"Hiroshi!" His wife yelled, "Behind you!"

He could feel his presence coming closer. Until the antagonist was right behind him, he steered himself away again, sidestepping the blow. However this time, his attacker was ready. His free arm elbowed Hiroshi in the face and sent him crashing against the wall.

An involuntary shiver slide its way over Keiko's skin, raising goose bumps. Worry and panic engulfed her. Her heart was pounding with a jackhammer's ferocity and streams of perspiration outlined her trembling jaws. Just watching her husband fight to the death was sheer torment. Imagine being in it. She tore her eyes away from the scene, feeling the dread of impending doom. Tears pricked like needles at the back of her eyes. The child in her arms began to whimper at the clamour of the fight.

Please… somebody make them stop…

Hiroshi drew in his breath with a long hiss, his head throbbing. He groaned. The impact had left a jagged cut above his injured eye, blood running down the side of his face. Through all the red, he could see his bokken a couple of feet from him. He reached for it and slowly pulled himself up.

Make them stop…

"I won't let you have our baby!" Hiroshi repeated hoarsely, taking a second to wipe his brow. It was getting harder to see with the blood in his eyes. But determination and the will to live were evident in his voice. His beady eyes burned in rage. His wife's inconsolable sobs and the pitter patter of the rain echoed against his ears.

"Stop… STOP IT!"

The enemy let his blade loose, coming at Hiroshi in an onslaught. On reflex, he jumped out of the way at the very last moment, a few feet behind him. But the force of the swing had caused the wooden wall to shatter into small broken pieces. Rain from the outside began to seep into the shack like a flood, collecting puddles. Despite the ear-splitting weeps of the baby and her mother, the figure simply focused again at his prey. Hiroshi panted breathlessly and his chest swelled with heated fervour. The loss of blood enervated him, leaving him almost too weak to stand.

Then, in a blink of an eye, the stranger disappeared before his very eyes like evanescent.

Shit!

Before Hiroshi could quickly regain his focus on the foe's position, it was already too late. He came up from behind him and the blade slashed through him in one powerful movement. It almost sliced the body into half. Blood sprayed everywhere in all directions from the deep cut. Hiroshi gasped in pain and collapsed noisily to the floor with a thud, his astounded blue eyes wide. The icy water stung his cheeks and numbness swept through his body like wild fire.

Defeated, just like this.

Shifting his shaky stare upwards painfully, Hiroshi bored hatred into the stranger's blazing emerald orbs. But his thoughts were a swirling tempest of fear and regret.

"Bast-tard-d…"

The solemn expression on the foe's face remained unwavering. He lifted the bloodied blade and thrust it down into Hiroshi's throat ruthlessly. The enemy twisted the handle. Gagged, the victim. Saliva escaped from his opened mouth. He took his last choky breath, and was gone.

"NOOO!" An agonizing wail issued from Keiko as she screamed her anguish towards the heavens incoherently. She was sick to the stomach at the sight. She realized it was all up to her now. Her husband had died honorably protecting her and their child. She vehemently refused to give up so easily. Hugging her baby securely to her chest, she broke into a run towards the exit. Her feet squelched against the biting water.

Don't look back… Don't. Look. Back.

But the obvious was inevitable. He delivered a blow to her slender legs expeditiously, causing her to stumble head-on to the floor with a small splash. Brutally, he grabbed a handful of her wet hair and dragged her back into the broken shack, ignoring her violent protest and screams. He held her up before him. His sword plunged into Keiko's chest.

Her mouth hung opened, blood dripping from the corner of her pale lips. He withdrew in a menacingly slow motion and flung her aside. Meekly, he picked the infant up.

"No-o! No, ple-ease… Don't… PL-LEA-ASE!" The woman pleaded profusely with the stranger who was carrying the baby in a snug grip of his left arm. She whizzed frantically for air to enter her punctured lungs, blood oozing onto the ground. Death awaited her, but she stubbornly hanged onto consciousness.

Sprawled against the floor in a pool of ruby liquid, she struggled helplessly to her weakened elbows and lifted a bloodied hand towards the shadowed figure shakily. Reaching. Fresh hot tears coursed down her sunken cheeks like broken floodgates and her throat was dry from the blood in her mouth. Anytime now, she would cease to live. Even so, the fear that now gripped her was a fear far greater than that of her own death.

I have failed her… I have failed my child…

Profound sorrow was discernible in her swollen eyes.

"Kao-oru-u…"

He shut his eyes in irritation and replied gravely, "Die."

With that, he disfigured her pretty face with long sweeping violent strokes, slicing her brain in the process. The expert and precise way he did it was as if he has done it many times before. The minute he felt no ki from the motionless body, he reopened his green eyes and cast a glance to examine his 'art'. The remains of the victim's face were so indistinguishable that only one cold eye was left intact, staring back at him with bleak intelligence of death.

Re-sheathing his sword, he reached into the pocket of his jetty gi and fished out a rare ivory jewel unlike any other, colour exactly like a full moon. It was small, and sphere-like, like a golf ball. He raised it to the baby's forehead and waited patiently. A luminous ray of white light began to gleam from the stone, projecting onto the little one like sunrays. A smug smile grazed his lips. Without a doubt, this baby is definitely the moon child.

The infant mumbled wordlessly, balling her tiny hands into fists. When she revealed her eyes, the beauty in them stunned him to the core.

Beautiful. These jewels of sapphire. The intensity of her navy orbs dazzled angelically in the night like stars, oblivious to the tragic murder of her mortal 'parents'. Her pale cheeks were smeared with blood and he wiped it away with the sleeve of his gi hurriedly, wanting to remove the stains that dirtied her purity. Ironically, he bestowed her with a smile.

So into the night, the dark figure vanished, taking the moon child with him leaving behind the corpse of a dead and butchered couple where they lay lifelessly in a mixture of red and salty cloudburst.

It continued to rain blood.

To be continued…

Well, there you have it. It was kind of short, wasn't it? Anyway, I hope it was enough to keep you inspired to read on. And it wouldn't hurt much if some kind-hearted and sympathetic readers left me a review or two, now would it? Any writer would appreciate a review, constructive or not. If there are some flaws in my story, do tell me about it and I'll see what I can do to correct it.

And yes, I did borrow the term 'moon child' from the Legend of Dragoon there, didn't I? (If anyone has played the game, you'll know what I'm talking about). I couldn't think up of any creative names. I did come up with some other ridiculous ones but I thought "Oh, what the heck!" Anyhoo! Thanks for reading. Don't forget, leave me a review! Cheers!