Firstly, I want to thank everyone who entered, you all did great work. Secondly, I'd like to apologize in advance if the format of this is sort of choppy. I wasn't sure what the best way to do this was so bear with me. Okay so the way this is done is simple, everyone's story is place within a spoiler block underneath said person's name. Simply read the stories and leave a comment with the name of your choice.
Stories based on:
The boat gently rocked in the harbour. Robert sat at the far end of the table, his head hung low. His father, the captain of The Ranger, sat eating at the other.
“But why?” asked Robert, his tone a mix of confusion and pleading.
“Because that is how it is Robert” was his father’s stern reply
The cabin went silent, except for the lapping of the waves on the hull and the creaking of the boards. “If you weren’t my son I’d have you flogged for insubordination!”
“I will take my punishment,” said Robert as he looked up at his father “So long as you tell me why?”
The captain grumbled and ran his fingers through his thick black beard. “It is because that is how it is Robert. You cannot be Pope or King either”
“I could!” Robert stood “I could take the crown and become King. I could go to a monastery and learn about God and be Pope! I can learn how to be a doctor or I could even become a painter like mot…” Robert stopped talking as he watched the look wash over his father’s face at the mention of her “I can be anything, you told me that”
The captain looked at his son “Aye, but you can’t Robert. It’s not the done thing”
“Well I’m doing it!”
“NO SON OF MINE IS GOING TO BE A NINJA!” roared the captain as he upended the table in anger “Pirates DON’T become ninja’s!”
Robert stared his father down. He could hear the crew scrambling on deck “Father….Captain. I will be leaving the Ranger to study the ways of the ninja, whether you like it or not”
The captain’s hand clasped his cutlass “Don’t do this Robert”
Robert’s hand slowly went for his own weapon “I’m sorry, but I must”
I still remember her tears dampening my vest as she gasped for breath, trying to utter the name of the one who took her from me "G...G" Her eyes shuddered as she fell back. It was as if she was sleeping, but I could never wake her up, as much as I shook, as much as I prayed or screamed there was no sound, no movement....no hope. For 5 years and 27 days I'd jailed my emotions, the only hope I knew now was for the man who killed her to die, and as I crouched behind the door peeping in the key hole , I cracked a crooked smile as he sat swinging in his chair,gazing at the ceiling. I clicked open the door quietly as I snuck into the shadows,I could have kicked the door,but I was a shinobi that wasn't how I was taught. I had been planning this moment in my dreams ,in my nightmares in every second of every day. I could feel my heart racing with each step,"just two steps more" I reminded myself,squeezing the blade tightly."Don't do it" a voice in my head screamed "I MUST" I screamed back as the man turned from his chair with a grin"It's a funny game life" I swiped across his throat causing the blood to spatter and dampen my vest, just as her tear did.I sit rocking on my chair, 60 years since that day and as the wrinkles carried wisdom I can't help but feel the voice was right.Killing the man did not make up for her,because he was nothing and she was everything.Can you forgive me God? is the question I ask every night as I gaze up into the stars.Will I get to see her beauty again or will I see the mans cold harsh smile laughing at me as my punishment for revenge.I can feel the shockwaves erupting through my chest "What is my Destiny?" I whisper " "Life can be funny" God whispers back as I push down the handle to enter the afterlife of the unknown.
Being a ninja isn't all that. The people you work for are jerks, and talk to you like you're nothing, even though you could rip their heart out with the right punch, or cut their head off in an eye blink. They all think they're these evil grandmasters, moving ninjas like pawns against their enemies, when all they are, really, are some spineless cowards who want someone else dead, but don't have the guts or the skills to do it themselves. Yet they expect you to act with honor, because that's what they've seen in a hundred martial arts movies, or they think we're all bound by the mores of a culture that's thousands of years old. Give me a break.
The martial arts are part of our way of life, and I took to kung fu, because frankly, I liked the idea of being able to whip some ass. Turned out I was really good at kung fu. Also turned out I whipped ass on the wrong self important, self entitled bully one day, and he came back with a band of friends late in the night - some biker boy, Yakuza wannabes - and wiped out my entire family in retaliation. Missed me though, because I was with the bully's sister - the reason we had been fighting to begin with. Got back just in time to see them retreating into the darkness on a bunch of Yamahas.
So I buried my family, sold what was left of their holdings to interested buyers in Kyoto, and I went to the real Yakuza, offered all of my money to the biggest boss I could get to, and told him all I wanted in return was to be put in touch with some ninjas. He laughed, but amazingly enough, he arranged the meeting. I told them I wanted to be a ninja. They laughed, and then one of them tried to kill me. Like I said, I'm really good at kung fu, so one dead ninja later, and I started learning ninjitsu, and I've killed a lot of people since then. Just not the one I want.
United States of AmericaAgency:CIA.
Agent Name:Jericho Adoms
Code Name: Cold Case
Case # 183-322117
The shadows hid me, they always do, even in my light blue clothing. Tip from my mother, "Always work in the dead of night," thanks, Mom. Even in the busiest city in China, they can't see me at midnight if I hug the shadows. Rooftops are my greatest love, and I jump lazily from one lover to the next, Highschool all over again.
The target is some where ahead, in the tall building covered in gaurds that don't quite fit with the locals. At least I always get the fun jobs, anti-American terror cell not even the Chineese want in their country. Normally they'd care for this problem themselves, but they don't want the blood on their hands. Fine by me.
The first to gaurds are quick, clean, and silent, I still have kunai for this reason alone. Move passed, work my way up the stairs, hugging the walls. Two more gaurds coming down the stairs, AK's tucked under their arms. I wait for the first to pass and leap for the second, knocking him over the railing. The first turns to me, weapon raised, he manages to get a few rounds off before I move in close and stab him in the neck.
Thats my que to move before more gaurds come. I'm dashing up the stairs when the idea hits me. Elevator is faster.
Must have been an odd sight when the elevator doors swung open with no one inside, at least until I tossed the flash bang out from my hiding place, holding the roof by the way. The flash went off and I stepped out, well more of flipped out and rolled. Two kunai to the first gaurd, one to each of the others.
Then the man himself, cowering under his desk, didn't even bother to grab the pistol laying on it. Two rounds to the skull, like I was ordered. The Chinese police are looking into it, but I think the case will go cold.
What am I? The steel blade sliced through the air with a quick motion as crimson drops splattered on his clothes. A loud thud rung through his ear drums as he lowered his deadly weapon. Why am I doing this? He bowed his head in reverence as he cleaned his blade with the small silk cloth. He only wished that something could do the same for him. I want something more. The man stood erect over the cold dead pieces of his last opponent. The poor fool didn't have a chance.
I have to stop this. The man frowned behind the black mask that sat gently on his cheeks. He grew tired of the bloodshed and violence. He yearned for something more. There is no point. A sigh escaped his lips as he looked to the sky. His destiny was as clear as the tears welling in his hazel eyes. Bitterness was the only emotion present in his posture.
His face was worn with the pain and regrets of battle. The life of a solider is hard, but it must be done for the good of those he holds dear. Doubting that fact shows only weakness. Everything comes at a price....