The young man stood before the flower shop, the fragrance of the lilac, lilies and phlox hung in the air. He was across the way, in an ally. His deep stairs if noticed by any would appear menacing, like a stalker following his quarry while they were doing something sensual. The look of hatred, and malice painted on his lips. The wrinkles around his nose protruding further each passing minuet. Kishin was in a dismally foul deep train of thought. Every so often cursing under his breath. He was being reminded of something. Something he thought he left behind, but he recognized the signs. This wasn't just any flower shop. No no, this place was a home of evil. An accursed smell was coming from it, not one of joy and happiness. The glorious morning smells of flowers wafting in the air were of death and destruction to him. As he stepped from the shadows of the ally way and made his way over.
Kishin's tale wasn't one known in the country. Hell, it wasn't even one really known in his home country, his home village of Iwagakure. His past life he thought was behind him. Long gone and to never come about again. At least, that was his true hope. Just like any person, history tends to surface at the foulest of times. He took another step, and his mind floated back to the last week he stayed in Iwagakure. His darkest week, or rather, HIS brightest one, but the darkest for the clan of whom owned the shop ahead of him. A blood curdling scream echoed in his head. His smile deepening. His eye flashed to the lightest whitish lavender hue, wrinkles appearing around his right eye. Everything appeared to be slowing. Another step, he was getting closer to his target. He clinched his hand into a fist. Kishin felt the wave of endorphins being releasing throughout his body. What would have been a horrible thought to any other, sent a shiver of joy down his spine. Blood ran down his hand, black, blacker then the darkest shadow. This wasn't a man bent on vengeance. This was a man out to enjoy himself. Another memory flashed, the last one he made back home. Though, it wasn't his best one...
[spoilername="Reader Beware.."]Kishin stood over the the body of his once upon a time boss. The man that caused all this to happen. The man whom brought this upon all those that laid strewn about. He stood over this man, his body burned to a crisp, crackling as he reached down, grabbing a hold of the man. He felt the heat grow behind him, enjoyment almost as great as before overwhelmed him for a second. The man screamed, no, no he didn't. He took care of that. He wheezed and heaved and chocked out blood as he was being dragged towards the table in the center of the room. The walls were covered in the blood of his enemies. HIS enemies, both. This wasn't a man, but a monster clad in the finest business armor. Ones business death and deceit, the others destruction and crimson. The smoking man pulled the old man to his feet with one hand and tossed him onto the table. His hand having some black veiny tentacle come off and release from his body, wrapping around his the bosses throat and table. The four legged wooden table creaked as the grip grew tighter. More blood spewed out. "You know....I always wanted to do this. ALWAYS!" The burnt figure laughed, small pieces of ash and skin came off his chest. "And..I think you always knew it would." What was gone, reformed, a hand blacker then his skin grew.
"Or rather...perhaps..perhaps you thought you would strike first?" He slid his hand up the man's shirt as he walked next to the table. "Thank you by the way. For this." He pointed to his body, rubbing his chest as more flecks of ember came off and turned into dust. Behind him, he could feel the fires growing more and more uncontrollable. "You really did make the perfect enforcer. The muscle that could never be destroyed. Forever and renewed their after. At least...I will try and keep my good looks." He laughed manically. The old man looking upon him. What he saw, was a shell. A thing burned and mutated, torn and engulfed by fires hotter then, well not the sun but still. All he had left, was his face. A face rarely seen twice. Rare.....
His burnt remains, turning to powder, drifting off where he now stood, at the 'head' of the table. "I never would have been able to go this far you know, without your torturous and ever harsh treatment, over and over. No. I really must thank you for this." The table creaked loudly for a moment then stopped. "I will promise you to give it back two fold. Truly I will. You, your children, your children's children. Even those in other lands. The Yaminaka truly deserve my thanks. So.. Any other last wishes?" The man murmured on the table, his what used to be there appendage bleeding as he opened his mouth. "Sorry didn't quite catch that. A little louder please?" He smiled. He put his hand on the table, that started to move under it's own power, crawling towards his chest. A long protrusion followed that connected to his body followed behind, floating high into the air. "He laughed again, sorry. Stupid joke. Was about to say a jackal have your tongue. Though that would be a little corny huh. Though...I truly have nothing better to say to end this...huh..damn. Well that is a little anticlimactic...Hmm..oh well." The hand raised into the sky as he spoke, and as he finished, dug itself into the mans chest. He flailed wildly as the fingernails dug in. The crackle of ribs breaking, the squishing sound of blood slashing.
Soon enough it retracted, the still beating heart within it's grasp. "Yummy yummy." Another big smile. "I promise, I will forever hold your heart-full sentiments closely." And while still connected to the man, he placed the heart close to his chest and it appeared as if a mouth opened up, and the heart was slowly slurped up. He turned away, a smile unlike one he ever had before...no rather, prior to that.
For it was a smile very familiar now.[/spoilername]
Kishin's tale wasn't one known in the country. Hell, it wasn't even one really known in his home country, his home village of Iwagakure. His past life he thought was behind him. Long gone and to never come about again. At least, that was his true hope. Just like any person, history tends to surface at the foulest of times. He took another step, and his mind floated back to the last week he stayed in Iwagakure. His darkest week, or rather, HIS brightest one, but the darkest for the clan of whom owned the shop ahead of him. A blood curdling scream echoed in his head. His smile deepening. His eye flashed to the lightest whitish lavender hue, wrinkles appearing around his right eye. Everything appeared to be slowing. Another step, he was getting closer to his target. He clinched his hand into a fist. Kishin felt the wave of endorphins being releasing throughout his body. What would have been a horrible thought to any other, sent a shiver of joy down his spine. Blood ran down his hand, black, blacker then the darkest shadow. This wasn't a man bent on vengeance. This was a man out to enjoy himself. Another memory flashed, the last one he made back home. Though, it wasn't his best one...
[spoilername="Reader Beware.."]Kishin stood over the the body of his once upon a time boss. The man that caused all this to happen. The man whom brought this upon all those that laid strewn about. He stood over this man, his body burned to a crisp, crackling as he reached down, grabbing a hold of the man. He felt the heat grow behind him, enjoyment almost as great as before overwhelmed him for a second. The man screamed, no, no he didn't. He took care of that. He wheezed and heaved and chocked out blood as he was being dragged towards the table in the center of the room. The walls were covered in the blood of his enemies. HIS enemies, both. This wasn't a man, but a monster clad in the finest business armor. Ones business death and deceit, the others destruction and crimson. The smoking man pulled the old man to his feet with one hand and tossed him onto the table. His hand having some black veiny tentacle come off and release from his body, wrapping around his the bosses throat and table. The four legged wooden table creaked as the grip grew tighter. More blood spewed out. "You know....I always wanted to do this. ALWAYS!" The burnt figure laughed, small pieces of ash and skin came off his chest. "And..I think you always knew it would." What was gone, reformed, a hand blacker then his skin grew.
"Or rather...perhaps..perhaps you thought you would strike first?" He slid his hand up the man's shirt as he walked next to the table. "Thank you by the way. For this." He pointed to his body, rubbing his chest as more flecks of ember came off and turned into dust. Behind him, he could feel the fires growing more and more uncontrollable. "You really did make the perfect enforcer. The muscle that could never be destroyed. Forever and renewed their after. At least...I will try and keep my good looks." He laughed manically. The old man looking upon him. What he saw, was a shell. A thing burned and mutated, torn and engulfed by fires hotter then, well not the sun but still. All he had left, was his face. A face rarely seen twice. Rare.....
His burnt remains, turning to powder, drifting off where he now stood, at the 'head' of the table. "I never would have been able to go this far you know, without your torturous and ever harsh treatment, over and over. No. I really must thank you for this." The table creaked loudly for a moment then stopped. "I will promise you to give it back two fold. Truly I will. You, your children, your children's children. Even those in other lands. The Yaminaka truly deserve my thanks. So.. Any other last wishes?" The man murmured on the table, his what used to be there appendage bleeding as he opened his mouth. "Sorry didn't quite catch that. A little louder please?" He smiled. He put his hand on the table, that started to move under it's own power, crawling towards his chest. A long protrusion followed that connected to his body followed behind, floating high into the air. "He laughed again, sorry. Stupid joke. Was about to say a jackal have your tongue. Though that would be a little corny huh. Though...I truly have nothing better to say to end this...huh..damn. Well that is a little anticlimactic...Hmm..oh well." The hand raised into the sky as he spoke, and as he finished, dug itself into the mans chest. He flailed wildly as the fingernails dug in. The crackle of ribs breaking, the squishing sound of blood slashing.
Soon enough it retracted, the still beating heart within it's grasp. "Yummy yummy." Another big smile. "I promise, I will forever hold your heart-full sentiments closely." And while still connected to the man, he placed the heart close to his chest and it appeared as if a mouth opened up, and the heart was slowly slurped up. He turned away, a smile unlike one he ever had before...no rather, prior to that.
For it was a smile very familiar now.[/spoilername]