By my hand they shall perish. Into everlasting voids they will fall, one by one, each to their own death. They will be seperate. They will not be together when they die... they will be apart from their brothers, while I, the avenger, slay them. I do not mind seeing the blood of my brothers flowing freely, soaking my path as I walk from the death scene. My conscious will give me no complaints when I go to sleep in the morning, as I will know justice has been served to the greatest of degrees. Their cries of anguish and pleads for compromise will only fuel the passion of the moment: the passion of death, and the romance of carrying out revenge. Some say revenge is a dish best served cold, but I intend to put that cliche to rest. Revenge is a fountain, overflowing with water... cold, freezing, relentless waters. The type of freezing cold that bites through the body and shows no mercy. No mercy at all. But to the avenger, the water is tinted with sugar and chocolate; the avenger has the great gift, like a man out in the desert, finally seeing a vision that is not a mirage, but moreso of a heavenly gift. The thirsty man from the desert comes to the fountain, and soaks his dried body, giving it refreshment... divine purpose.
For so long I have studied their moves. Their techniques are flawed, of course, since they serve an inferior master. Unlike my master, Splinter takes it too easy on his pupils. Easiness is not the way out; the simplist solution is never the best solution. Discipline, pain, with a focus on the ultimate goal is the path to follow. My eyes are on the prize, the prize that will be the reaping of my rewards. My reward will be made simpler, because Splinter taught them simple things, while my master taught me difficult things; their disdain for induring injury will bring me an even more swiftness in cleaving off their heads. I know this because I have watched: I have seen all. In the shadows of alleys, on top of buildings, in trash cans... observing, being the fateful spectater that intends on becoming the savior. I have seen them all flince when injured... Raphael is best at blocking out pain; Michalangelo is the weakest, of course; Donetello is like a human, gritting his teeth and trying to ignore it; Leonardo, however, deserves some strain of respect. He is much more like me... perhaps we were born very close in time to each other, perhaps in the same block of ten seconds; perhaps Leonardo and I hatched at the same time, creating a dimensional link between us: he being the yang of Tao, and I being the Yin. I shall kill Leo last... give my mission more of a climactical effect.
What will my weapon be? Katanas. Somewhat shorter than the ones Leo has, though. I will carry four: two on my back for extra protection and supply, and the ones I hold in my hands. I have practiced with my katanas for years, now. My master has instructed me not to deal with other weapons at all, and that I should devote my whole being to only one type of weapon: this way, I can become one with the familiar weapon, and not have to worry about failure at any point in time. I cannot fail, because failure is not an option to be chosen. If failure is not accepted into my personal reality, then it cannot exist to me: therefore I am victory. I am one with victory, and victory lays inside of my katanas.
But then my mind relapses back into thought; sometimes my thoughts go back to the drawing board it was at when I first started training. I know now that I have a sister... that she is skilled in the arts she was taught. Splinter did not train her. Some man from Japan did---but still I know her style like I know the style of her brothers. Venus, my sister, is more passive. Given that she is a female, her motherly instincts hold her back from hurting those who have unprovoked her at the present time; but also those same instincts lash out full-force at those who do step into her circle of privacy. To protect her brothers like a mother would protect her firstborn, is what I like comparing it to. So should I kill her first? Second? Middle? I have payed it much thought. I shall kill her first. Much of the time I have watched her leave the sewers late at night by herself; she is solitary much of the time. Many times I have followed her, attempting to see where my dear sister goes to. Mainly when she sneaks away from her brothers, it is to fight the battels they have forgotten to fight; like robbers in jewelry stores, or the misdemeanors that her brothers don't care about any longer. While I respect her for going off on her own, I will still feel no guilt in decapitating her. I will feel no guilt in issueing great pain upon her... what must be done, has to be done. I must do this. It is what I was trained to do... my master always taught me never to have mercy, and to ignore the natural mind inside which says to 'hold back.' My master said to hold back is to accept failure as an option. I believe him. Therefore, I will not hold back...
I have just seen the sewer lid just move. It slides over and reveals the inky black opening on the street. Venus is climbing out. I cannot help notice her shapely form. When the natural mind of guilt comes flashing back, I try to block it out. Instead of feeling guilty, I must concentrate on the lust to kill her. Not the lust to feel her under me in intercourse... but to kill. Kill Venus. I rise up on my feet, still in the shadows of the nearest building, as I silently follow her. No sound comes from my footsteps, jumps, or landings. Venus scales ladders, buildings; I have to keep quiet, and match all her movements to block out her hyper-sensory of hearing, so that I am not caught in my persuit.
The way she bends---maneuvers her body. Would even human men want her? I know not... try not to care. Maybe it is just the rushes of adrenaline that make me think these thoughts. Adrenaline can fuel purpose and missions. The blood lust is polluting my mind, especially as I keep following her.
A man is in the street, holding a gun to the other man; I know it is a drug deal gone wrong. So does Venus. She leaps down from the building and lands in the middle of the two men, smacking the gun out onto the pavement and making the man buckle over as she pays his mid-section a thrustful kick, sending him backwards and into the bumper of the limousine they are next to.
"HEY! What the hell?" the man cries out. The other man, who was held at gunpoint by the now injured one, turns in the other direction and takes off at a speedy run. Venus raises flaps her arm out, a long blue rope-like cloth appearing, wrapping around the running man's ankles and bringing him down in a hard thud.
"What is it this time? Let me guess. Cocaine?" Venus asks them both, as she goes to examine the limousine's open back. "Yep! I was right. Pills weren't risky enough for you."
The man she kicked into the car (the dealer), is now on his feet, panting, holding his stomach where he was kicked so briskly. "That dude owed me $500. You would shoot someone too if they said you couldn't have your pay!" the dealer says.
Needless to say, Venus took care of both of them, using the dealer's cellphone to call up the nearest police. She vanished from the area, as the sirens were sounded in the distance. She had locked both of the men in the trunk of the limo, leaving them for the officials. I followed again. But not for long. The apartments and businesses were more empty in this part of the city at this time of night... so I made my attack. Venus was climbing a ladder attached to the side of a tall building, and at that moment she was about halfway up. I stood at the foot of the ladder. Flipping my left katana over and catching its blade, I flung the katana at Venus. The blade sliced the chill air, and made its way at her... in a matter of a moment, the katana was lodged in her back shell. Yelling out, my sister let go of the ladder rungs, falling at least twenty feet down to the street below... her landing spot was right in front of my feet. There was a loud crack, as the katana blade went even deeper into her shell, the tip issueing from just below her chest.
"My sister. Your time is over on this plain. Death will be swift, as I suppose you are experiencing much pain right now." I said, raising up my other katana, the blade pointing diagnally upwards, as I prepared to make the final swipe which would take her head off her appetizing body.
She looked up to me, her pupils dialated, and short gasps of shock coming from her mouth. Then she spoke to me. "Leonardo? Is---that you? W-why would you... do this... to me?"
"I am not Leonardo. I am Plato! Your lost brother! YOU DIDN'T EVEN KNOW I EXISTED!" Without my permission, tears welled up in my eyes, as I brought the blade down and took her head off. Looking to the sky, my veins filled with emotion, I let out a long agonizing yell.
As I walked away from her corpse, the tears dribbled down my face. I had almost forgotten to get my other katana, so I went back, turned over her body, and pulled it out of her.
"One down. Four to go. My mission is yet to be complete." I whispered to myself. No longer would I be able to follow my sister in the night, observing her actions. No longer would I be able to lust after her body and let my mind fall into fantasies. Venus was dead. Cold and stiff now... she was a victim of justified revenge. I had killed her.