Hey everyone! Thanks for all your reviews, though I'm going to need a tiny bit more if I'm going to continue this story!
Torn
Chapter Eight: The Past
Eight-year-old Ayame sat, alone in her room, her blue eyes shinning with delight as she read her new book she'd just gotten for her birthday.
She was almost done the book, already, when her attention was caught when she heard a loud crash from down the hall.
"Mommy?" She called, staying where she was. "What was that?"
No answer.
With a sigh, Ayame got to her feet. "Be right back."
The young girl walked out of her room and down the hallways.
Where are all the lights? She wondered with a shrug.
She continued down the hallway. The house was deathly silent, except for some strange noises coming from the kitchen.
"Mommy?" Ayame said, walking into the room.
She stopped, dead, in her tracks.
Her mother was kneeling on the floor, her small form crouched over her husband, who was lying on the tiled floor in a small pool of blood, his eyes were closed, the faint clues of tears under his eyes.
"M-Mommy?" Ayame stammered. "W-What happened t-to D-Daddy?"
Her mother looked up when she heard Ayame's voice, her dark eyes shinning with tears, her light brown hair messed as if someone had been pulling on it. "Oh Aya…please, go back to your room sweetie."
Ayame, being a stubborn child, shook her head, her fists clenched at her sides. "No. What's wrong with Daddy?"
"Daddy's just…just…sleeping." Her mother managed to croak.
But Ayame knew. Somehow she knew what had truly happened to her father.
Her feet patted on the tile floor as she rushed over to her mother and wrapped her arm's around the woman's shoulders, burying her face in her shirt. "Mommy!"
"Ayame," Her mother whispered, letting go of her lifeless husband and hugging her daughter tightly. "Please…you must get out of here."
"Why? I don't want to leave you mommy." Ayame cried, hot tears filling her eyes.
"Let the girl go." A deep voice said from behind Ayame.
Ayame gasped and pulled away from her mother, turning to look at the man who'd spoken.
He was tall and burly, strong looking, with a plain face and dark eyes. His black hair was slicked back, sticking to his neck. He had a gun in his hand.
"I said let her go." He snapped.
"N-No!" Ayame's mother squeaked, pulling her daughter close to her again. "I won't let you have her!"
"He wants her." The man growled, more men appearing behind him. They had, apparently, been searching for Ayame, who had managed to sneak by them. "And he will have her."
"No!"
Ayame stared blankly at the man. He was dangerous, she could tell. His dark eyes were clouded and unforgiving, he also reeked of alcohol, Ayame could smell it from across the room.
He sighed and snapped his fingers.
Instantly a group of men brushed past the man and walked over to Ayame and her mother, tearing the girl from the woman's arms.
"Ayame no!" He mother screamed, fighting against the men. "Ayame get away! Run!"
"Mommy!" Ayame cried, tears spilling over her eyes as she reached for the woman, but found she could not touch her. "Mommy who are they? I'm scared Mommy!"
"Don't be scared honey!" Her mother reassured her. "Please don't hurt her!"
"Shut up Ali." The man snarled, crossing the room and standing in front of Ayame's mother, pressing his gun against her neck. "Shut up."
"No!" Ayame screamed, struggling with surprising strength against the man who'd taken her away from her mother. "Don't touch her!"
The man smirked over his shoulder at the blue-eyed girl, then turned back to her mother. "She's a feisty on eh? No wonder he wants her then. She's perfect for the job."
"Don't you dare take her." Ali, Ayame's mother, shouted at the man. "Don't you dare Atashi! You killed my husband, leave my daughter alone!"
"He was in the way." Atashi laughed, pressing the gun harder into Ali's neck, causing the woman to wince. "I'm sorry Ali."
Ayame watched, her eyes wide in terror, as Atashi's finger pressed harder on the trigger.
The girl closed her eyes as a deafening shot rang throughout the house.
"Mommy! Mommy no!" She shrieked, opening her eyes in time to see her mother's lifeless body sink to the floor, blood running down the side of the wall. "No!"
Atashi stuffed the gun into his back pocket and turned to Ayame, signaling to the man to let her go.
As soon as Ayame felt the man let go of her, she threw herself at Atashi, pounding her fists into his chest.
"You hurt her!" She screamed, hot tears streaming down her cheeks, each of her punches growing harder and harder on the man's chest. "You killed her! I hate you! I hate you!"
Atashi just stood there, allowing her to hit him with such force.
Slowly, Ayame grew tired, her punches growing weaker and weaker, her tears still flowing down her cheeks. "I hate…you!"
Finally, Atashi grabbed the girl's fists and clenched them tightly, causing the eight-year-old to wince.
"You will obey." He snapped. "And you will learn. In the end, you will thank me."
It was only later that Ayame found out the full extent to Atashi's killings. Not only had he and his men slaughtered Ayame's parents, but her two brothers, Mik and Sirrin, also.
You will pay for this Atashi.
Four Years Later…
Twelve-year-old Ayame lay in bed, her light brown hair strewn around her like a cloud, her blue eyes gazing dully up at the ceiling of her tiny room.
It had been four years…four long years of training, fighting, killing, and beating. She was, in Atashi's opinion, ready.
Mommy… Ayame thought sadly. I watched you die. I watched you cry for daddy. It's time…to watch them die. They will not be forgiven.
Atashi thought she was ready to kill. She knew she was ready, she had been for four years.
She would show him what happened when you taught someone to kill.
Quietly, the girl got from her bed and slipped on some clothes; a black zip-up sweater and skirt, and grabbed her knives and a small hand gun.
With the swiftness of a cat, she crept from her room and out into the dark hallway.
After kidnapping her four years ago, Atashi and his men had taken her to a large mansion outside the city, hidden away where not many people knew about it.
And, of course, no one knew what went on inside.
It was like a test the whole time you lived there; if you let your guard down, you would, most likely, be killed.
Four years Ayame had been there, and over that time she'd seen child after child walk through those doors and leave in a body bag.
She had been the only one over the course of four years to actually survive the vigorous tasks and daily beatings.
The only thing that kept her going was her hatred for Atashi and the group that was keeping her there, molding her into an assassin.
Her footsteps barely made a sound as she crept down the hallways towards the rooms of her enemies.
She slipped into room after room, her blade working like the devil itself, draining the life from each person lying unaware in their beds.
But the gun? She was saving that for Atashi. He would die the same way her mother died.
She walked slowly into Atashi's room, her knife in her hand, dripping with the blood of his comrades, and her gun in the other, her finger pressed lightly on the trigger, waiting for the perfect shot.
With a wicked smirk spread across her lips, Ayame stood beside Atashi as he lay asleep, his graying hair lying flat on his head, his dark eyes covered by his eyelids, snoring softly.
She pressed the mouth of the gun against his neck in the same way he'd pressed his gun against her mother's neck. "Wake up…Atashi."
His eyes flew open and he tried to sit up, but Ayame only pressed the gun harder into his neck, letting him know what he was up against.
"A-Ayame?" He gasped. "What are you doing?"
"Getting revenge." Ayame growled, the moonlight playing across her face, her blue eyes reflecting the cold light. "For my family. You remember them, don't you?"
Atashi stared up at her, shock was plainly present in his features. "I raised you, took care of you, I"-"
"You beat me every day." Ayame hissed, cocking her gun. "I watched all the other children die, wishing every day that it would be my turn next. You turned me into…this. An assassin. Well this is a lesson to you, Atashi, don't teach the people who hate you how to kill."
"But…You're doing so well Ayame." Atashi said, strain in his voice. He was scared of her. "You could be better, the best, in all of Japan…don't you want that?"
"I never wanted to be an assassin." Ayame shouted at him. "You bastard! I hope you enjoy hell, your friends are there waiting for you."
"Ayame wait!" Atashi shouted.
But his cries were too late. In a burst of anger, Ayame pulled the trigger, the sickening sound of tearing flesh filling her ears along with the blast from the gun.
Ayame stood there, specks of blood dotting her face and clothes, her blue eyes staring blankly, distant, at the body lying motionless in the bed.
"Goodbye…Atashi." She whispered, cleaning her gun with the bed sheets, then her knives, the way Atashi had taught her.
Then she took a pen from Atashi's desk drawer and scribbled a little note, tossing it over the body.
Once she'd fixed the room to get rid of anything to lead police to her, the way she'd been taught, Ayame grabbed her things from her room, and ran.
No one would find her, ever. No one would know who she really was, for there was no records in the house of her being there.
She'd call the police and claim to hear gunshots, the police would come and find the dozens of dead bodies, along with the note shed just written that read;
An eye for an eye, a life for a life. You will not find me so don't even try. Come after me and more will join the dead. Signed…you can try to figure that out on your own.
Days later, Ayame had found an old paper lying on a park bench, a title catching her eye, she'd read it.
The police had, indeed, gone to the house following her lead, and found the many dead men and women, along with her note.
The last line of the article, was the part that made her smile.
"This girl, this assassin." Ayame read aloud. "We can tell she's a girl by her feminine handwriting. This girl…sought out revenge on this group of people. The police have no leads as of yet and they have no clues that will get them any further, including the girl's name. So for now, they have come to call her after the Japanese term meaning 'evil spirit, demon, devil'…Akki."
Ayame smiled and tossed the paper into the trash. "Akki is it? So…that's my name. I like it." Her blue gaze rose to the Tokyo tower looming not far from where she stood. "Ayame no longer exists…"
Okay! So yeah that was all on her past…next chapter is back to Kouga and stuff. Review!