...and damp. Sweat ran down my forehead as I squatted there, waiting for my moment. Even when a cool breeze went through the bamboo thickets, I still felt hot and uncomfortable. With one hand on the handle of my katana and the other keeping me still, I studied the dancing shadows ahead of me. It had to be a dark night to do this mission. Light was a blessing and a curse in this mission. Luckily tonight was a new moon. I concentrated on my breathing, counting in my head the seconds to match that of each exhale. One. I thought as I noticed a noise from a distance. Two. Another snapping of dead leaves and twigs echoed the once quiet air. Three. My heart beat faster as shapes began to form from the darkness. Four. Slowly I slipped my katana out a little. Five. Voices chatted amongst themselves from the distance, about what, it was hard to tell. Six. Soon enough, I could see their being. I could see their joyful faces and their bright colored armored as they strolled with seemingly no care in the world. Seven. It was then the smell of alcohol hit me, obviously from the four men who has entered the bamboo forest. I gave one final exhale. Eight. My favorite number. It was like a flash of memory. It is hard to keep track of what happens when you run on pure adrenaline. I remember the bamboo seeming to part away for me as I dash forward at the men, as though giving me permission to remove the noisemakers. I remember seeing their faces as they looked in horror at the crimson shadow coming at them. I remember the sound my sword made as it tore into their flesh, hitting their bones and gliding along them to shear more meat from their hide. I remember the last one squirming a little on the ground, unable to speak from the opening in his throat. I remember me leaving that night, satisfied it was all over.
Maku the Dark Community Member 
|
|
