Random Violent Contest Time X3 !!!

[HeadlessKoko]

Hello peoples 4laugh ! The UnknownPresentGiver has decided to host a contest in this guild and so, here is what he has to say whee !

TheUnknownPresentGiver

HEEEEEELLLO! I want see some blood, and I am willing to pay. How much am I willing to pay? Well you will have to win to find out! Make up the most awesome, cunning, sexy, bad a** butt kicking extravaganza you can think of, post it here, and if yours is the best, then you get a boat load o' GOLD!

The gold, or prize you get will based upon how many people participate, and how epic the winning post is. I have up to 200k to give away, and am willing to give the winner 150k of it if they earn. So FIGHT! and show ze blood I CRAAAAAAAAAAAVE!!!!!

Right then, I think that's about it 3nodding . Well then, you heard (or in this case, read) what he has to say, so get on with making your posts blaugh !  

[TheUnknownPresentGiver]

I think not, there isn't a hole lot of activity, and if someone can't keep posting then there kinda out of the running. This way every one has the same chance, it is just up to how awesome, and detailed of a story you can come up with that will WOW me.

So start thinking of some violent junk, because thats what I wanna see!  

[TheUnknownPresentGiver]

Yeps, post here, but make sure it is all nice and polished up so you can win : )  

[TheUnknownPresentGiver]

SURE! Why NOT! But I am a strong believer that quantity is NOT quality, so keep in mind a lot might not mean you win.  

[Somnis]

Poetry In Motion
-A Contest Submission By iShay-chan

xxxx“You know your job.” The voice of the man before her rumbled with a deep bass note as the brunette knelt before her leader. “Remind me what it is, girl.”

xxxx“Synn is a Jinchuuriki, a threat. Threats must be obliterated.” The soprano voice deadpanned from under the hood of the coal-colored cloak that the girl wore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

xxxxThe night was quiet. If it hadn’t been for the rain, their footsteps surely would have echoed off of the buildings that lined both sides of the rutted dirt road. Each cottage-style house had its shutters closed tightly, families inside them huddling together to wait out the storm. But people could only wait so much. The rain had been falling from the heavens in torrential sheets, as if Kami was trying to drown the sinners once more. The sky was nothing but roiling clouds that were the color of tar. Every few seconds, a deep rumble shook the earth and lightning split the sky into millions of pieces, almost like broken glass. Broken glass, or a giant’s jigsaw puzzle. The lightning lasted for only a millisecond; just long enough to momentarily illuminate the group that stood at the end of the road, their faces perpetually bathed in shadows cast by the hoods of their coal-colored traveling cloaks. A crack of lightning shattered the stillness of the scene as the rain pooled in the ruts in the road left by the passage of carts over the years, turning the unpaved mess into a river of mud. The three moved silently, the two taller figures dwarfing the third, though it was the smallest figure that seemed to be leading the group.

xxxx“You are certain this is the house, Daichi.” The words were a nearly inaudible hiss from the smallest figure, the sound of the voice soft and angelic like that of a child. It seemed almost impossible that a voice that sounded like bells could speak in such a menacing deadpan. It was not a question. It was a statement of fact. Her feral crimson eyes glowed as the group silently approached a house with the number 16 emblazoned on the door in metal numbers.

xxxx“Positive, Amaya.” The word came out from beneath the hood of the larger figure as a silken purr, the tone enticing with an almost seductive quality to it. The shapes were human, that much was certain, but they had a menacing atmosphere about them that made the hair on the back of a person’s neck stand on end. The speaker, Daichi, his name was, placed a hand on the shoulder of the smallest figure and, the movements perfectly synchronized, they took a couple of steps back from the door. “Harou.” A hand sheathed in a black leather glove appeared from under the thick traveler’s cloak, gesturing the largest of the three figures towards the door.

xxxx“One. Two. Thr--” The end of the word was drowned out by an earsplitting crack of lightning overhead at the same time as the largest figure, Harou, placed a heavily booted foot against the oak door and kicked. The door, frame and all, crashed to the floor, rainwater quickly collecting in small puddles as the three figures stepped into the house. The sound, coupled with several soft screams that erupted from the family sitting peacefully in their living room, was deafening. The scarlet eyes of the smallest figure, Amaya, glinted with malice in the dim light of the room. The heels of her black patent leather stiletto boots made a sharp rapping noise as she crossed the threshold of the door and stood before the family, her brothers flanking her on either side. “My, my. It has been quite a while.” Her voice carried an unmistakable note of boredom as her deadly crimson eyes traced over each face. The girl’s pale, delicate-looking hands reached up and lowered the cowl of her cloak, the material blacker than night.

xxxxHer face was lovely, a sculpture of a young goddess brought to life, her dark hair tied in a tight bun at the back of her head. She surveyed the family for several long, silent seconds as they huddled together, trembling, in the corner of the den. There were four of them: a mother, a father, and their identical twin sons. A middle-aged woman, clearly the mother of the household, was shaking, pressing herself up against the wall as her arms clutched her son to her chest. The boy looked no older than five, but his amber eyes were wise beyond his years. He stood, allowing his mother to clutch him to her bosom while he clung to the hand of another boy, identical to him down to the last freckle. “You,” She lifted her hand to point directly into the center of the first boy’s forehead. The child shuddered as he averted his gaze away from Amaya’s blood-colored irises. “Here. Now.” She snapped her fingers and pointed in front of her.

xxxxThe mother’s anguished wail echoed in the unnaturally still night as she grabbed for her son. Harou and Daichi each seized one of the woman’s shoulders and threw her back against the wall, where she crumpled to the floor and began sobbing and shaking. Amaya grabbed a fistful of the young boy’s cropped dark blond hair, wrenching his head back with enough force to make him cry out in pain as she placed the edge of a poison-dipped kunai against his throat. The child whimpered, a pathetic sound as he leaned as far away from the blade as his captor would allow.

xxxx“Tell me. Your name is Kirin, is it not? You are Kirin and your brother is Niko. Is that correct?” The boy nodded, leaning his head back and tightly closing his eyes. She pressed the edge of the kunai against the smooth skin of his throat, raising a thin line of blood droplets. “Where is your sister?” The words slipped through Amaya’s lips like satin as she purred into his ear, though the sound was more menacing than persuasive. The boy stayed silent, shaking his head minutely.

xxxxAmaya angered instantly, throwing the boy back across the room by his hair and storing the kunai back in her thigh holster while the boy crashed headlong into the wall. A picture that was hung on the wall in a frame slid from its hook and crashed to the floor, sending shards of broken glass skittering across the polished hardwood floor like tiny glittering beetles. Raising her hand and shaking the sleeve to her cloak back to her elbow, she snapped her fingers, impatiently tapping her foot against the floor as Harou grabbed the other boy and brought him to his sister. “Where is she, damn it? Where is your sister?” She grabbed Niko’s face in her hand, squeezing just a bit as she backed him up against a wall and stood menacingly before him, her face just inches from his own. She held him tightly, just enough for her long, sharp, blood red-lacquered fingernails to leave tiny marks on his cheeks. Losing control, she shook him roughly. “You will tell me where she is or so help me, I will--”

xxxx“Amaya, behind you--!”

xxxxBefore her sentence was finished, a silver-tipped arrow sliced noiselessly through the air, puncturing Amaya’s palm between her index finger and thumb and pinning her hand to the wall, mere inches from Niko’s head. Amaya gasped softly in pain, using her left hand to wrench the arrow from her flesh. The silver arrowhead was covered with shockingly scarlet blood. The end of Daichi’s shout was cut off by a gagging, retching noise as the petite figure of a red-haired kunoichi dropped from the exposed ceiling beams and wrapped a length of wire around his throat. He gasped and spluttered for air as his eyes bulged in their sockets, his face turning a sickening shade of puce.

xxxx“If you were truly looking for me, you would have known where to find me.”Amaya growled audibly at the sound of Synn’s cold soprano voice, seeming to come from the very ceiling of the house. Her feral crimson eyes darted upwards, searching the exposed rafters of the single-story house until they locked onto her face. The idea that Synn had evaded their ambush enraged Amaya while Synn gazed down at her from her hiding place. A quiet gasp hissed through Harou’s lips as a hand closed around his hair, tied back in a ponytail, and wrenched his body backwards. A swift kick to the back of his knee brought him to the ground as a cobalt-haired kunoichi laid the edge of a dagger against his jugular. His pulse thundered tangibly under the blade as he gulped and looked at his sister for instructions.

xxxxThe blonde smirked, though the action was shrouded in the shadows where she was perched like a predator stalking its prey. Seeing Amaya at the end of the dirt road, she had slipped into the house through a window and used the counter in her kitchen to hoist herself up into the ceiling beams where she waited for the perfect moment to make her presence known. Bending her legs at the knees to counter-balance her weight and provide leverage, she leaned backwards until she was hanging upside down from the ceiling beams and fitted another arrow into her bow. Few shinobi were trained in the field of archery, but those who were had been trained by the elite. Synn’s gloved fingers pulled back on the feathered end of her arrow until her bowstring was pulled taut, aiming the glinting silver arrowhead between Harou’s eyes. At this distance, no one was close enough to take her weapon or stop her from firing the arrow. “You will release my brother now, thank you, or yours will drop where he stands.” Amaya shook her head in mock-disappointment before rounding on Niko and shoving him up against the wall, her forearm crushing his windpipe. He choked and gasped for oxygen as she laid the edge of the kunai back against his throat.

xxxx“Synn, I’m disappointed. You know threats don’t work on the cold-hearted.” From there, everything seemed to happen in slow-motion. Amaya, moving quicker than the lightning that illuminated the room every few minutes, drew the blade across Niko’s throat, a thin line of crimson quickly becoming a spout as the boy’s eyes rolled back in his head, the skin of his throat sliced in a clean line. A choked gurgle escaped the boy's lips, followed by a large bubble of mixed saliva and blood which expanded and burst. Tiny bubbles built along the wound on his throat, forming a froth as the boy tried to scream. Synn screamed as she released the arrow and dropped quickly from the ceiling, the silver-tipped arrowhead embedding itself deep between Harou’s eyebrows with a sickening crunch. The hulking man went cross-eyed before his crimson irises, the same color as Amaya’s, rolled back in his head. Synn’s mother watched, wide-eyed with horror, at the scene unfolding before her. She shut her eyes tightly and swallowed the reflexive urge to vomit, clutching Kirin to her and shielding him from the spectacle before them. Harou fell forward to lay facedown on the floor, the feathered end of the arrow snapping off as the floor forced it still deeper into his head. His forehead hit the floor with a loud crack as blood and another substance, the name of which Synn had no desire to know, began to pool on the floor, flowing unchecked from the split in Harou's forehead that the arrow had made. Small lumps of what Synn assumed to be grey matter floated atop the ever-widening pool of blood on the hardwood floor.

xxxxAmaya screeched her brother’s name as Midori, Synn‘s half-sister, moving swiftly and surely, pulled on each end of the razor wire. A strangled gagging noise bubbled from Daichi’s mouth as his face turned more blue than purple, his eyes bulging out of his head so far that they seemed to be about to pop out of the sockets. The wire sliced through the layers of fat, sinew, cartilage, and bone, making no noise as it did so, as Amaya drew her katana and slashed it through the air at Midori. Daichi’s head fell from his shoulders as his body fell forward, his eyes darting around in their sockets before rolling back in his head and going still. The head itself hit the floor with a dull crack as blood poured from the wounds on the body and the severed head, which rolled to a stop several feet from the rest of the headless corpse. Midori’s breath escaped in a hiss as the steel of Amaya’s blade sliced deep into her shoulder, cutting through flesh and muscle and laying the wound open clear to the bone. Blood quickly began to soak through her shirt, spattering Amaya's face and drenching her black tunic as Midori tried to stem the flow with her sleeve, turning on the spot and using her momentum to deliver a swift kick to Amaya's midsection. The brunette's slender body hit the wall off to Synn's left, her head cracking against the drywall hard enough to leave a dent and smear of crimson on the paint.

xxxxAmaya pivoted on the spot, her eyes burning as she searched for Synn, who was once more crouched among the eaves of the house. The brunette was pressed against a wall, several stray locks of hair escaping from her usually neat bun, as she fought the internal flight reflex. An internal battle began, and the struggle showed clearly in her scarlet eyes. She was outmatched. Even a kunoichi of her level couldn’t hold her own against Synn and against Takara. Amaya knew her enemies better than that. They had been comrades, friends even, in the Academy together. Takara, Amaya, Midori, and Synn had graduated from the Academy at the top of their class, each excelling in a different type of specialized combat. Synn was the only one in the Academy who had been trained to wield a bow and arrow, something Amaya had struggled to learn before abandoning the practice completely. Amaya was a kenjutsu specialist, excelling in wielding standard-length blades and those that were larger than the standard katana. But her blades were no match for the distances covered by Synn’s hand-crafted, personalized arrows. Against Takara, who specialized in the use of razor wire and projectiles, Amaya had a chance. But Synn could position herself where Amaya’s blades couldn’t reach her, and slowly take Amaya down from a distance.

xxxxHer choices were laid out clearly before her: if she ran, she would never get a chance like this again, never have the opportunity to take Synn down again. If she stayed, she would find her death at the hands of two people she once called friends. Fight or flight. Fighting would kill her either way. Either she would exhaust herself until she couldn’t fight anymore, or Synn would put an arrow through her temple. Flight was the simple matter of getting back out of the door and running for the road. The doorway was wide open, raindrops spattering against the splintered remains of the door as Amaya, in a desperate attempt at flight, bolted for the open doorway. And that was the only opportunity that Synn needed.

xxxxHer body tumbled quickly through the air that was thick with tension and the metallic smell of blood as Synn fell from the ceiling beam, somersaulting through the air and landing in a crouch behind her foe. Her gloved hand shot out, seizing Amaya by the collar of her cloak and jerking her back. A strangled gag burst from the brunette's lips as Synn, fingers entwined within the cloth of the girl's cloak and dress, allowed her inertia to carry her actions. She rotated her shoulder cuff and lifted Amaya's feet from the floor before hurling her small figure across the room. She hit the opposite wall and slid to the floor, gasping for breath before jumping to her feet. However, the was something off about her posture, the way she was crouching, coiled like a cobra that was preparing to strike. The brunette seemed unable to straighten up completely, a detail that Synn took great satisfaction in.

xxxx"So now you want to fight. Well, you're in for the fight of your life." The blonde snarled at the girl who had once been a sister to her. Her vision was tinted crimson, pulsing slightly, keeping time with her thundering heartbeat and the adrenaline that was racing through her body. Her entire form was shaking, trembling minutely from the raw force of the anticipation coursing through her system. Amaya closed the distance between the two kunoichi in a matter of mere milliseconds, slashing at Synn's torso. The blonde retaliated, infusing her fingertips with chakra and jabbing them against the pressure point in the crease of Amaya's elbow. The girl cried out in pain as a small welt formed on the place where Synn's fingers had touched her skin. First red, then greenish-purple, a bruise began to form in a matter of seconds as Amaya's fist connected with the side of Synn's face. The force of the suckerpunch to the side of the face made a small grunt burst from Synn's lips as she was sent sprawling back, struggling to stand as her brown leather boots, unlike the shoes most shinobi wore, skidding on the hardwood floor, sliding through puddles of mixed rainwater, blood, and bits of gray matter. Disregarding the actual techniques of the fighting style she'd meticulously practiced for years, Synn curled a fist, pulled her muscles back, and let her arm snap forward to plow her fist into the end of Amaya's chin. The girl fell to her knees, blood pouring from her mouth as she spat a glob of saliva and blood onto the floor, one of her teeth making a brilliant white speck in the mass of dark crimson. "Well, Maya? Am I strong enough for you now?" She grabbed the brunette and hauled her to her feet before roundhouse kicking her in the cheek. "How about now?" Synn's angry shouts were torn from her lips by the chaos of the storm outside. Her gloved hand clamped down on the top of the brunette's head, seizing the girl by the hair only to knock her down once more. "What about now? Is this enough? Am I brutal enough now, Amaya?" Grabbing the other girl by the throat, she lifted her until her feet were no longer touching the floor, squeezing her trachea. Amaya gagged and spluttered for air, kicking at Synn in a desperate attempt to free herself. The kick itself startled Synn just enough to release her hold on Amaya and drop the girl, letting her fall in a heap to crumple on the floor. She gasped for air for several seconds, massaging her throat with her own hand. There were five purple marks left from each of Synn's fingers on her throat.
xxxx"How about now, Maya?" Synn's voice was soft and deadly as she stared, amethyst eyes cold and dead, into the crimson hues of her prey. The brunette was shaking, struggling to hold herself up as she looked into Synn's stoic face, tiny black spots and stars popping in her vision like bubbles. The blonde reached down and slowly entwined her hand around collar of Amaya's clothing, pulling her to her feet and shoving her until her back was against the wall. She carefully placed her forearm over the girl's throat and lifted her feet once more from the floor. The black spots began to bloom and pop in Amaya's field of vision as Synn's face swam into focus. She had never seen the blonde like this before. Her normally porcelain complexion was smudged and flecked with mud and smears of blood. She had one small cut by her hairline from when Amaya had punched her in the face, and the blood was slowly trickling down her cheek. Her cheek was swelling rapidly, a purplish lump forming under her skin. But it was her eyes that startled Amaya. Normally clear amethyst orbs now gazed back at the brunette, dark with anger, but sparking with hate and bloodlust. Her eyes were glassy, almost crazed looking. She leaned forward, her lips close to the brunette's ear as she whispered. "How about now, Maya? I'm strong enough to beat you. Is that enough yet?" Amaya said nothing, staring into Synn's eyes with an expression that plead for mercy. "Well? How about now?" Synn drew a single kunai, twirling it nimbly between her fingers and placing the tip against the soft flesh of Amaya's cheek. The brunette's breath came in a gasp as she felt the sharp blade slice deep into her face, felt the blood that ran down her cheek, down her neck. Synn held the kunai at eye level for a moment before running the tip of her tongue along the dull side of the blade. Amaya shuddered as waves of pain washed over her, threatening to pull her into unconsciousness.
xxxxAnd then, before Amaya could take another breath, the pressure on her throat was gone, and she was falling. She must have been dead. Synn killed her. It was the only logical explanation. Synn was so close to ending it all. She wouldn't have just walked away. But she wasn't dead, that much was certain when her body hit the floor with a heavy thud. Synn turned her back on the brunette, facing her family, facing the three corpses that lay in the den of her home. Her mother clutched Niko's body to her chest as she wailed in despair. It was the only chance Amaya would ever have, so she took it, scrambling to her feet and bolting for the door. What her gaze missed, however, was the two objects in Synn's hands as she made one last rush for freedom.
xxxxA silver-tipped arrow sliced noiselessly through the air, silently entering the head of the brunette through her temple. The silence rang in the air, as if reverberating off of the people who were holding their breath. With a thick-sounding splash, the brunette dropped to her knees before falling to lay face-down in the river of mud that made up the walkway leading into the house. Her crimson eyes rolled back in her head before closing forever.  

[TheUnknownPresentGiver]

WEEEEEEEEL Hmmmmmm sweatdrop I didn't think of that... I will say the by the 20th of this month should be plenty of time for all submissions, but if there is a halt in submission, and no one seems interested in posting anymore before then, then Iwill take my pick of the most epic, blood hungry, vindictive, evil, malicious, awesome, foot to a** post I like.  

[TheUnknownPresentGiver]

iShay-chan

My submission had been edited, because it wasn't good enough.

WHAT?!?@!! HOW COULD YOU!!>!~~@!# j/k I don't care heart but *Clears voice and acts serious* I haven't read it yet, I was waiting for more, but I wont re read it after I do, just so thats clear. What I read is what you will be judged on...

I hope there are more contestants though... Did I offer to little gold maybe?  

[Deil Grist]

Blinding Hate

[Keep a trashcan nearby twisted And yes, it's a slow start, but it wouldn't make sense otherwise.]

The night was still young, though for Deil it felt like it had been going on forever. Shianne (a chuunin of the Leaf village) had been a little too friendly the past few weeks. He often caught her staring at him during meetings and when they were in the same shopping district. She was always too close for comfort during conversation. Her body was kept within a last a couple feet of him even when he backed up to show he wanted more space, and there was a problem with that: she was supernaturally attractive. She had well toned and smooth thighs, tight abs, and her hips and bust were well endowed. Silky smooth brunette hair flowed gracefully down to her mid back, and her blue eyes pierced you with their intensity and yet could freeze you or draw you in with the swiftest glance. Deil had always been able to keep himself from being drawn in by her looks, but the fact that she wore shirts with deep necklines or form fitting leather jumpsuits with partway undone zippers at the top mad for an extremely distracting view since he was a foot taller than her and she so close to him.

So he had invited her out to dinner at a casual diner in the village to ask her to lay off, that he was loyal to Misuki. She, however, had mistaken his intentions for treating her to dinner and had expected a confession of a different sort to him. But she was a sly creature, and turned to using her words to try to change his mind. She propped her chin on her arms, which caused her bend forward some and, thus, show more of her already ample cleavage. "You say you are loyal to her, but I know where your hear really lies. I see you look at me with desire when we're together, and I know what you're thinking. Come on, what's wrong with having a little fun with someone else once in a while?"

Though his eyes betrayed him, his heart and will remained as strong as the metal of his bones. "My eyes do wander against my will, but most of that is the way you dress and act around me. You've been doing all this on purpose: forcing yourself into compromising positions and wearing revealing clothing. I don't feel anything for you, Shianne, and I'm not the kind of man that would leave his wife for a cheap thrill like you."

Blue eyes momentarily sharpened their gaze as if they could drill through him, but returned to their soft alluring gaze almost immediately. Oh Deil, trust me when I say I am anything but a cheap thrill. I can be everything you want be to be, and you're everything I want in a man. You're strong and dependable, and not bad to look at either. I've wanted you since I first laid eyes on you. Can't you see we're made for each other?" Her body had been slowly leaning forward as she talked, and she quickly thrust herself forward in her seat to kiss him full on the lips. However, his quick reflexes caused him to grab her by the shoulders and thrust her back after only a split moment of contact. Shianne's look was curious and a little hurt, though there was also a hint of glee in her eyes as she licked her lips slowly and purposefully in a circle as if she were savoring the brief kiss. He held her at arm's length as he spoke. His voice had turned hard, no longer the calm it had been when they started.

No, you cannot be what I want because Misuki leaves me with no want. I will never love you because she is everything to me, and I to her. I'm sorry, but that's just how it is. In fact I'm not sorry, because if you truly respected me for my resolve, then you would know up front this could never work. Shianne's face went briefly slack as if she were in shock, but then in quickly turned into a scowl. Her eyes burned into his own with her anger and hate for his rejection of her feelings. "So be it. Get out of my sight." was all she said and continued to try to stare him down. He felt a little uneasy, but naturally attributed it to the intensity of her stare.

After rising from his seat and leaving the money for the food he had ordered but not yet received, he left the establishment and headed home. It was still early evening, so the air was muggy and the crickets outside the village created a white noise that washed through the village's streets as he walked home. The moonlight and streetlights were easily enough to guide him home even though he had memorized the path, but he looked back behind him to see if Shianne was following him. No sign of her was visible, and for that he was thankful. Perhaps it'll be fine in the end. She'll surely find someone else to court. It wasn't long before he arrived at the small house he and Misuki had built after their wedding, and he was glad to see that the lights were on and that the smell of dinner was wafting through the air of around the home. They normally alternated dinner duty, but he had asked that she do it tonight so he could take care of something. She hadn't asked, though she had practically asked with the quizzical look she gave him.

It took a moment to get the key out of his pocket and turn it in the lock, and he looked behind him for any sign of Shianne. When nothing caught his eye, he gave a deep sigh of relief and closed the door behind him after walking inside.

"Misuki, I'm home!"

Deil walked a few paces to reach the opening of the kitchen and walked inside. Misuki had prepared a casserole and grabbed it to take it to the table just a couple minutes before, but had forgotten to put on her oven mitts first and thus burned her fingers pretty bad on the hot porcelain. She had been running cold water over her fingertips to relieve the pain when he entered, and turned to face him. "Welcome home, sweetie!" she said with a smile on her face and her normally warm voice. Even though she had just burned herself, she did her best to hide it from Deil with a warm welcome. She shook the water from her fingers as if she had just finished washing her hands.

What happened, and what Deil saw, were two completely different things.

Deil froze as soon as he entered the room, dropping his keys on the floor as his eyes burned an image into his mind that would last forever. On the floor lie the broken casserole dish his adopted mother had given him. That wasn't what his attention was drawn to though. On top of the cheesy casserole sat Misuki's head staring right at him with eyes wide with shock and her mouth left open in a grotesque contortion from the scream of her final moment. Red blended with yellow-orange to create a bloody spiderweb of blood and cheese slowly dripping off of the top of the meal, and beside the dish lay a pool of blood that drained from the decapitated body of his beloved wife, Misuki. Deil's mind went blind save for the sight of the one person he couldn't live without dead in a despicable way right before his eyes. He would have stood there forever, lost in the space and time of this one scene had motion not caught his eye. A black cloaked figure turned from the sink shaking off its hands apparently after washing them of the blood of Misuki, and a sword still dripping with blood was dripping from its side. "Welcome home, Sweetie!" a sickeningly high voice said from beneath the cloak in a making fashion of her traditional greeting.

Rage. Nothing but blind rage filled Deil's heart, like Misuki's love had morphed into pure hate. He could hear his pulse in his ears, his body was a cold prison housing his burning soul. A crazed look appeared in his eyes, and a scream like that from a wounded creature escaped Deil's throat. The figure suddenly stopped shaking its hand at the sound and quickly turned as if to escape through a route behind it, but hand not turned fully before Deil lunged across the room.

In all actuality, Misuki had turned to see if Deil had seen something outside to cause him to look so shocked, angry, and to scream so. But to Deil, she had become the sole object of his existence in an entirely different way: she was now the target of the man with the most rage in the entire village with nothing to lose. Deil tackled the intruder and the side off the house blasted out into the yard as they went tumbling through the yard. The intruder had been stunned from the sudden attack and the raw power behind it. She lay on the ground dazed for a couple moments, which gave Deil all the time he needed to grab one of her arms and place one of his feet on her shoulder. Without a single word, he pulled up on her arm with all his might. At first the intruder said nothing but a condescending, "What?" But as Deil pulled, the shoulder was dislocated, and the cloaked killer screamed in agony. Deil didn't stop pulling. His brute strength and his rage gave him enough power not only to tear the bone out of its socket, but ligament from bone, tendon from tendon, and the very skin itself so that the arm ripped off completely.

A silent scream escaped the assassin as she arched her back in wordless agony while her lacerated stump of a shoulder spurted blood all over the fertile soil outside. He then took the arm and swung it at the assassin's other arm which resulting in two loud simultaneous snaps when the bone attached to her bicep broke in her remaining arm along with the forearm in the torn off one. Defenseless except for her legs, Deil sat down on her stomach and tossed the arm to the side. "You crushed my heart and my love. Now I will take yours." A lightning swift karate chop connected with the sternum of his target, and shattered it. He used a kuni to cut through the shirt and skin so he could pull the ribcage apart to expose the heart of the one person who deserved to die most in his world. He tossed the knife aside and while the heart was beating beating strangely slow, he pulled it out with his bare hand and took a huge bite of it. Hot blood gushed into his mouth, onto his face, and all over his clothes as the heart gave a few last mighty beats before quivering for a couple moments and falling still.

He took several minutes just sitting there with his mind going blank again to think about his revenge, and to savor it, before standing and turning toward the house. As he took a couple steps he realized that Misuki's body was no longer lying on the floor of the kitchen. There wasn't even any blood on the floor. Shocked, he spun around thinking maybe, just maybe, he had been under a genjutsu. In fact he had been, because he spend the next 20 minutes trying to kai wishing he was still in a genjutsu or at least in the last one.

Before him with an indescribable look of despair, pain, and horror lie Misuki with an arm ripped off, another arm broken, and her heart exposed with a huge chunk bitten out of it. Deil knew what had happened, but didn't want to admit it. He knew what he had done, and couldn't shy away from it. Shianne had put him in a genjutsu to make him see the things he had in the kitchen, and the hooded figure had just been an illusion of Misuki. But that didn't change anything. His wife had died a horrible, needless death over the jealousy of another woman... BY HIS HAND. He had no more rage, only shock. His while world fell apart around him as his mind, even as strong as it was, caved in on itself and shattered into nothingness. He had become an empty shell, covered in the blood of his formal lover and life partner. His body lost the will to live and, within a few minutes of losing his mind, he lost his life as well to a heart attack.


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[The girl mentioned at the beginning of this story uses the following fictional genjutsu (though possibly a candidate to be on the actual list) on Deil:

Genjutsu: Blinding Murder Illusion
Rank: A
Type: Painful Reality Change
Description: This genjutsu is a very complicated genjutsu requiring that the target look directly into the eyes of the caster only at the moment of casting. Once engaged, the caster must remain stationary because of the complexity of the illusion, but the target is free to move once the genjutsu is cast. When the target next sees the person they hold most dear, they will see that person's body already decapitated with a cloaked figure standing beside it. A bloody sword will hang from the figure's hip through a sash. The cloaked figure will actually be the person they hold dear, and the body purely illusion. Anything the "cloaked person" says will be changed to sound sadistic and cruel. This genjutsu will last a maximum of six posts.

So, how full is your trashcan? wink

On a side note though, this is NOT something I have been thinking about for a long time. I only got the idea a couple days ago when Cobra agreed that Misuki would pretty much have to die in order for Deil to go on a massive killing spree, and a bunch of ideas all flooded at once. I don't want this to happen in the RP at all, and it's not something I normally think about. It was strictly for contest purposes only. Just to clarify so you don't think I'm some sick ******** who thinks this kinda stuff up all day long.]