• On the eve of June 22nd a psychotic giggle was heard through the village. For inside a run down home the act of an atrocious murder took place. The cleaver cut into the body, the blood squirting along her clothes and face, as the life from their eyes faded, her lust grew. Even dead she still went at it. Hacking away while laughing. It was the laughter of a four-year-old child…who knew nothing but neglect and hate. All at once she suddenly stopped, her arm weak and limp as the bloody cleaver fell to the ground. The sudden urge she had once before was now gone.

    “I killed them…” And just like that she screamed. She screamed and ran from the room, instead of going to her own room she went to the forbidden one. As she slid open the shoji it was apparent the room had never been touched for years.

    And there in the middle of a futon sat a raggedy looking doll, a patchwork of sorts, the sounds of villagers alerted her to the present, and she quickly grabbed up the doll and ran out the back, but it was to late. A villager had found her in the forest, and from that day on the demonic child was a slave. She had no choice, for the insanity she held had left her… and so she was forced into her life, as a slave for it was all she could do to remain sane. Too bad the Gods hated her. And in this way 5 years passed…it was almost midnight…and the moon was full in all its glory.

    June 22nd, 1858. Nine-year-old Shinji now held a blade. It was the eve of her birthday that the insanity took holds once more. She started small, killing the children first, the babies next…and then after that her psychotic giggle echoed through the slave house. Not a soul was spared as she smeared their life’s blood on the walls and floors. The ripping of her blade from their bodies caused an unusual feeling within her. The demon blood had been awakened once more.

    “No more. I won’t be weak no more!! I’ll defeat all of these hardships…You hear me!? I’ll never let you win!! You ungrateful gods!!!” Her voice had reached a pitch of hysterics as she shrieked with delight. There was no stopping her for she quickly went for the main house.

    That night the moon turned blood red…in a symbolic way of telling those who saw it a massacre had taken place. Pulling the rabbit to her chest she fell to her knees, once dull golden eyes now were bright with lust for blood, her pupils becoming slits…like a snake. At once her voice became a whisper.

    “You’re my only friend, bun bun. You’ll never betray me…” She giggled. Then laughed a psychotic laugh as she ran from the now burning mansion and into the fields through the forest. She ran and ran until her legs finally gave out.

    As she lay on the outskirts of Kyoto she let a single tear fall from her eye. It was a tear of regret. But right now, she didn’t care, for darkness soon overwhelmed her, and in its loving embrace she found peace.


    Three days from the massacre and she was now clean and presentable. She had to be, for no one would look at her otherwise! She had stolen a nice kimono during the night and had her hair pulled back as she walked about aimlessly, her eyes hollow and dead. It was her minds way of coping with the atrocious murders she committed the very thought made her shiver. Many times she was stopped by elderly people, asking if she would like to stay with them, but she declined, for her fear of being hurt made her reject the comforts of any human. So she took to sleeping in sheds or just staying up. She was given food for free, being an orphan, but they didn’t need to know she was the one who caused that massacre or that she killed her parents. They only needed to know she was a poor orphan child who escaped from the Shinsengumi because she accidentally disrespected them.

    Yes. That was it. A perfect lie created by an imperfect girl. As the sun began to set she stopped to take time and admire the beauty of it. Yes…if she could find a way to make moments like these last she would. At the feeling of a presence behind she was taken aback, for there stood before was a beautiful man with ash white hair that was half up and half down in a topknot, Samurai clothing, a fine chiseled body and those beautiful onyx deep eyes. She almost didn’t hear him asking her question.

    “I see a lot of potential in you…would you like to hone your skills?”


    That was all he needed as he led the young child by the hand to a hidden alley, and down a hidden path to a hidden school. It was the school of a crooked man who smiled a crooked smile, and found a crooked child who lived a crooked life.

    And so as the moon began its accent the young child began her training…


    “Your form is sloppy, you can’t expect to be taken seriously in a fight. Try again!” his voice boomed in the empty room. Kenshi nodded, moving ocne more through the motions, slowly and then faster. Now moving as one with the blade her mind became blank, nothing but the sound of a blade cutting through air her only sense of what was happening.

    Slash. A body fell before her. Clink! A blade was blocked from its target. Swoosh. The blades cry sang clear. Thud. Another body had fallen. A repeating endless cycle, it then became her world, and she continued to fight and kill her imaginary enemies…enemies formed from the darkness of her mind. Face of those she killed as they cried for mercy. And then she stopped. The blade clattered to the ground as she fell to her knees. Her body felt so drained…so tired… and her neck hurt yet at the same time, she felt an unusual wave of pleasure, as her eyes closed she allowed the stronger arms to hold her, the hands gently moving along her thigh.

    “Your form was beautiful that time…tell me, why did you stop.”

    “I saw their face…I heard them scream for mercy…”

    “They do not deserve mercy.” He hissed into her ear, the sensations that stemmed from that action caused her to moan a bit. “Hmm…demons are fascinating…so very easy to seduce.” His teeth grazed along her skin, as his claws dug into her side and the smell of her own blood caused her to scream and try to get away, her mind returning to her.

    “What are you doing?!”

    “Why, you agreed to let me train you…and I need to seal the deal…young Guardian.”

    “Guardian…” Her eyes dulled as memories of her childhood played back. “That’s right…they told me…my destiny…”


    “That was a month ago…after I joined him. I’ve learned all I can here. There’s nothing left for me to learn.” And so she stood, her body sore from the earlier encounter. Even though she was nine, she was no longer pure…her teacher had taken that…and she wouldn’t forgive him.

    “I must be strong enough first…before I can beat him.” And so the child slipped into the night, and as she traveled around Kyoto, she met a man named Shinsaku, and this man told her what was happening, for in her training she did not know of the war that had been taking place.

    And so this idealistic youth who killed those that hurt her, whose justice was warped yet pure in the sense she wanted no more pain for the weak…to protect the weak and those are hurt by the strong…that was what she wanted. So he took her by the hand to his training field, and she found herself a new goal…a new purpose in life.

    The days went by in a blur, as she continuously trained, rarely ate, and spent time just staring into the sky. She begging to wonder if she truly deserved to help those…those who were hurt by loved ones… but then again…did those she kill also have loved ones?

    “My heart…” yes…her heart she had forgotten she had…those pent up feelings of regret as the child side, the naïve side took control yet the youngan knew she could not let that happen.

    At once she left the coolness of the shadows from the tree of shade and into the blinding hot sun of the noon sky, she would train for she knew that training would make her forget…and by forgetting she would be ok. It was an endless cycle…the cycle of a psychotic child trying to find her way in a world of blood and death. It happened to be on this very day, when her name was called out. Fear struck her for the briefest of moments before realization dawned on her.

    ’I’m not a slave anymore…’

    ’Can you be sure? Are you not a slave to your warped mind?’
    A woman’s voice countered her thought. It was the voice of her past self…the angel…

    ’SHUT UP!!!!!’ her voice echoed through her mind, as she heard her name be called once more.

    “KENSHI!!” His voice echoed and she finally turned around, beside her caretaker was a beautiful man but also her idol.

    “I have seen him before…during my wondering…before that swordsman…” Yet she could not finish her reconnection, for her body was being led to a room, the three of them sat down, Kenshi’s mind a flurry of emotions.

    “Your skills are beautiful.”

    “T-thank you.” Why was she stuttering? Her heart continued to beat faster as she began blushing.

    “I’ve picked you out for a reason. I’m asking you…to kill. Its not pretty, but it must be done. Will you kill for me.”

    “I will.”

    “Will you deliver heaven’s justice?”

    “I will….”

    “Baa baa black sheep have you any wool? Yes sir, yes sir three bags full. One for the master and one for the dame…one the little one who cried all alone.”