The Blade II

PROLOGUE 1

Sid walked down the street and up to a large tree that had dominated the neighborhood for as long as he could remember.  Granted, it didn’t live in HIS neighborhood, but that didn’t matter.  He slowly unsheathed his sword, savoring the slick metallic sound given off by it.  He leveled it in front of him, then brought it back to about head-level so its point faced the tree, much as he did.  He then took a quick step forward and, using all the power in his body, stabbed the tree as far as his sword could go, up to the hilt.  He crouched low and focused every fiber of his being into the turned-up blade, then jumped.  The sword sliced up through the thick trunk for about ten feet.  As he fell back toward the ground, he brought the sword back down with him and sliced through the tree through and through, from side to side.  Just as he landed on the ground, he sheathed his sword and stared as his craftwork.  He’d carved out a shape that somewhat resembled a cross.  He decided this would be his mark, though he certainly didn’t plan to leave it on trees everywhere.  No, this was merely practice.  He smiled a little to himself as he thought of the wonderful ways he could practice more on...other things.  He pulled his long black coat around him a bit tighter and continued walking down the street, his coat melting him into the shadows as he walked toward the woods. 2

THE TIME 3

Sid returned back to his makeshift home in the forest after another day’s hard work.  He’d made some progress this time around with his new secondary weapon.  He’d always despised knives and daggers, but after watching a knife fight between a couple of gangs and just how good they were with them, he realized they could actually be of some use as weapons.  So he stole one from one of the gang members; granted, he had to kill him to do it, but that was alright.  It was a superb weapon for extreme close-range combat, much better in that sense than his sword.  It could be thrown as well with shocking accuracy, something he’d been working on for a while.  There had been accidents, as would be expected.  The most serious was a time in which the knife slipped from his hand as he was swinging it upward and it fell back to the ground, slicing completely through the tendon of his right index finger in a glancing blow.  Painful as that was, he’d kept practicing, albeit with his left hand.  He knew he’d been lucky; the knife could’ve sliced his finger off completely, which would’ve been a problem.  After a few weeks, the wound healed well enough that he regained a good portion of the control of his finger. 4

For the first few days after getting the knife, he’d been treating it as if it were a very short sword, but he soon realized he was being a fool and began using it as it really was; something for ambushes or quick jabs to the gut of an enemy in the unlikely event he ever lost his sword.  He’d come to love the knife, particularly the fact it was more a dagger than a knife, and therefore had its own sheath.  It was a perfect secondary weapon. 5

Still though, the sword came first, and that was that.  And while Sid had been as patient as possible, it was something he wasn’t very good at.  He wanted to test his skills now, and had decided long ago that night would be the best time to do this.  Sheathing his knife and sliding his sword into place on his body, he was about to walk out from his shelter when he heard a noise from outside. 6

It hadn’t been particular loud; not really.  It was more a rustling, and a quiet one at that.  He stopped himself and listened intently for anything else.  He heard voices, whispers in the night that were hard to figure out.  He eventually determined there were about five or six people outside, and after listening as hard as he could, he suddenly realized they were policemen.  Fuck, he thought to himself.  He hadn’t planned on them finding him so soon; not at all.  But, he thought, perhaps this can work to my advantage.  He could test his skills here.  The familiar smile slowly lighting up his countenance, he silently unsheathed his sword and stood near the entrance of his home.  It was a wonderful thing really; made of fabric that was quite resistant to the elements.  The smile disappeared, however, as the first officer appeared in the entrance and the battle began. 7

Sid immediately charged at the man and swung his blade in a ferocious arc.  The officer tried desperately to dodge it and did so, but just barely, falling to the ground on his ass.  Sid raised the sword above him and stabbed down into the man, the blade penetrating the man’s midsection and coming out the other side into the ground below him.  Sid lifted with all his might outwards from him and hung the man on his blade.  The steel in the sword was incredibly strong, and Sid truly loved this quality.  Sid could feel the man’s weight causing him to slide down through the blade and he screamed in agony as the steel ever-so-slowly sliced through his body.  His feet touched the ground eventually, but Sid knew it was over for this man; the sword had cut an open gash of about six inches into the man.  Sid crouched low, gathering his strength, then leapt up, feeling the blade pass through the rest of the man completely.  As he fell back toward the ground, much as he’d done with the tree, he sliced the man completely through from side to side.  The officer fell to the ground in three pieces, blood spattering the ground everywhere and pooling in huge puddles at Sid’s feet.  He bent down to study the man and discovered with delight that he could actually see the man’s heart.  It had stopped, but that was alright.  Blood continued to ooze from the man as Sid reached inside the man and, with a grunt of effort, yanked the man’s heart out.  He looked at it for a moment, then lifted it above his head and squeezed it, letting the dark red blood pour onto his face.  He licked and drank it, savoring each second of it.  When at last there was no more, he tossed the heart aside and slowly walked out from his home, hearing the heart land with a satisfying thud inside his home.   8

The instant he stepped completely out from the entrance of his home, he was confronted with a double threat as two officers charged at him from opposite sides.  He looked back and forth at them, then stared ahead and stood his ground, his sword beside him.  At the last possible second, he darted forward, whipped around and swung his blade in a massive arc, almost a completely circle really, and caught both officers right in their necks.  Their heads fell to the ground, along with their bodies, and everything happened so quickly that Sid could’ve sworn he saw the severed heads’ eyes widen in terror.  This lasted only a brief second though, and soon three officers lay dead in the entrance of his home.  All was quiet for a few seconds, and then Sid was hit from behind with a spike-covered chain similar to the one used by the officer at his former domicile.   9

The spikes, just like last time, easily dug into his flesh and ripped out chunks of flesh and tore apart the rest that was still there.  Sid screamed in pain as he felt this, but he still was able to whirl around and butcher the officer behind him with a dozen wounds in the man’s torso.  Some sliced so deeply and the wounds so huge that individual organs hung from the man’s body as it collapsed to the ground.  Sid could see this man’s heart hang out as well, but had no time to reach for it as he was hit from behind by a simple, yet powerful kick.  He whipped around and brought his sword to bear, but another unexpected kick sent it flying out into the darkness.  A punch was thrown at him, which Sid easily dodged.  He grabbed this man’s arm and flipped him up and onto the ground.  He noticed something shining and realized at the last second that the man was thrusting a knife up at him.  He grabbed the man’s arm and slowly began turning the knife back.  He leaned down close to the man’s face and saw his face twisted into a mass of pure intensity and hatred.  With a push, he thrust the man’s knife into his neck.  Blood spurted out and covered the side of Sid’s face.  It dripped down to his mouth and he licked it up as it did so.  Oh, he loved this.  Combat was the best thing to him; he experienced every emotion and thought possible.   10

Just like his last big fight, though, he was now covered in blood and the entrails of his victims, and had many wounds that needed tending to.  He sighed and stood back up, searching for his sword.  It was time to move on now; he simply could not stay here.  He found his sword stuck in a tree, and he easily pulled it out and sheathed it, but not before wiping the surface of the blood-covered blade.  He wiped the blood off his face and slurped it off his hand; he loved its salty, sweet taste with just a touch of iron.   11

He felt the pain in his back from the missing chunks of flesh and knew that, once again, a lengthy period of recovery time was in store for him.  As he hobbled off into the night again, he smiled a little to himself despite the pain.  He was getting better; he’d been able to handle five of them this time.  He didn’t notice the dark figure back at his former home as he examined the bodies of the fallen officers.  He didn’t see the figure look up at the retreating form of Sid and smile ever so slightly.   12

Sid was getting better; so far he’d passed the man’s tests with flying colors.  Still, though, he had to be stopped.  The man stood up, his long, black coat, similar to Sid’s, flapping a little in his self-made wind.  His next test would be his last; the man would stop Sid himself, and needless to say, he would enjoy doing it.  He turned back and walked out of the woods, back towards civilization to prepare himself for the upcoming confrontation. 13