• Gothic Shinobi


    Dark Clouds

    Young Bats walked down the lonely road like the rest of us. He's seen death at every corner and is now used to it. Many can't recall what his true name is, but they refer to him as Bats due to his black and white outfit and his bat-like hairdo. His russet skin color has often been considered as to blend with most of his clothes, but whose to say that it's the clothes that blend with him? Bats can say, for he is a shinobi.

    Dark clouds, Bats thought as he sat in his black motorcycle. s**t...Have to find shelter before the rain hits. He started up his bike and rode through the dark forest that laid before him. As he drove past tree after tree, he thought: Where does one go when it truely rains? Rain is nothing but the tears of the heavens and the cleanser of the hells. I don't need to fear the rain, but...
    "I fear the voices I hear in it."
    As Bats arrived into a hotel's parking lot, he looked over to his right to see a couple of hookers asking passing drivers for a "show".
    "Sickos...!"
    He instantly teleported from his bike to the front interest and entered in the building, where he saw a couple of fancy people staring back at him. They each were scowling at the fact that his garments didn't match their taste. They all considered him as a "gothic"--or a dark person. But Bats used the other term of "gothic" to his liking--in which meant he used the original holy term (but he added the dark and gloomy term as well).
    Moving right along: Bats walked up to clerk, who was no taller than him--being that Bats was six feet tall--and asked for a vacant room.
    "We don't have rooms for trouble, kid," the clerk snorted.
    "You tell him!" a fat woman with a fur coat shouted.
    "Leave, freak!" a skinny, small man roared.
    "I mean no trouble," Bats said politely. "I have the money, and I only came in with my motorcycle."
    "Did you now?" the clerk questioned, still not convinced.
    Bats nodded. "A room, please?"
    The man looked up and down the boy's body to check for any unnatural item that he can use to send him away. But he found nothing unnatural, just...uncommon. He found a white scarf that Bats wore around his neck; a black vest with a match set of ninja pants and fish-net stalkings; white wristbands with black gloves; black boots wtih silver pins on them--the belt was the same; bat earrings he wore on both earlobes; and that hairdo!
    Why wear your hair like a bat, kid?! the clerk asked only in his mind, afraid that the dark boy might curse him. (Right, as if gothics and ninjas can curse you.)
    "What's with your eyes?" he then asked the tall boy, referring to the dark rings under them.
    "Hmm?" Bats had been waiting ever so patiently that he nearly fell asleep standing.
    "What's with your eyes?" the man repeated.
    "Oh, I'm just so tired--sleeping out in the woods and all."
    "In the woods?!"
    "Yep," Bats nodded. "I've been training as a shinobi, sir."
    "He lies," a woman in blue silk whispered. "No one doesn't do all that now."
    "My room?"
    "Right," the clerk said as he checked his computer. Then he thought: Poor kid...Doesn't he know that the age of warriors and groups such as gothics and otaku is over? He looked over to the boy's face to see the he was grinning, showing off his bat-like fangs, and that his blackish-brown eyes were staring back at him. He blushed as he bashfully continued to search the database and thought: He doesn't seem so bad. So then...why do I have a bad feeling about this? I feel like he might get into trouble with some folk if he keeps up the act. He has to be around sixteen or ninteen--he certainly does have the height and face to be around them. He's too old to be dreaming of fighting and joining them groups. He typed up a room and smiled up at Bats as he said: "Yes!--we have a room availiable."
    "Seriously?!" Bats asked with full joy.
    "Yes." You certainly don't act gothic, kid. "It's in room--"
    "HELP!!!" a girl cried as she entered the hotel lobby, drenching in rain with a gray dress. "He's gonna kill me!"
    Everyone backed from the girl and watched as she ran up to Bats, who just stood there. He then asked: "What's the problem?"
    And she answered: "That man! He's gonna--!"
    "Where are you, b***h?!" a man with a biker outfit asked. He had a knife in his right hand and a gun in his left. "You owe me a lap dance and I want it now!"
    "I told you I'm not a hooker, creep!"
    "Is that so?" The biker man then grinned as he pointed the gun to the girl's face. "You were hanging with them hookers earlier."
    "One of them is my cousin!"
    "HAH!! Like anyone's gonna--"
    "Left-handed," Bats said.
    Everyone directed their eyesights on Bats, who just stood there with a dull look on his face. They then backed away a few more paces from him.
    "Beg pardon, kid?" the biker man asked.
    "You're left-handed," Bats said again.
    "How would you--?"
    "You're holding your gun in your left, clearly stating that you can't shoot with your right, thus proving your left-handed."
    The man snorted then pointed the gun directly to Bats' face. "So what? How is that gonna save you brat? I'll kill you, then--"
    In an instant, Bats teleported from the desk to behind the biker man, sheathing in a sword that no one's seen 'til now. "You don't need your right hand, then."
    The man stood frozen as he watch little red dots form around his right shoulder blade and armpit, creating a circle of blood. Then he screamed as he watched his arm plop to the ground and cried as blood sprayed onto the hotel floor. He ran past Bats to get out and was last seen screaming into the dark, rainy streets.
    Everyone was speechless as they watched Bats put his sword into his shadow, which looked almost like a black puddle, and returned to the desk clerk. He then smiled and said, with his original polite tone: "My room, please?"
    When the clerk gave him his room number and key, Bats was escorted and shown his nice stay for the night. After taking a shower and looking out his window, which was on the fifth floor, he thought: Dark clouds...They'll be talking about me now...