The path was dark, and my mind was racing. I'm too young for this, I thought to myself, as the shadows of the trees around me grew longer and more menacing, as if to grab me where I stood. I knew that in this world there were many dangers, and in those shadows were other ninja, ready to attack at the slightest trip, or sensing of weakness. That's when things went wrong. I was so focused on finding the presence of an enemy around me that a man carrying a small box didn't register until he bumped into me.
"Oh my, I am so sorry sir!"
"Ah, so it would be you this time Broady"
"I'm sorry?"
"You're the one that's been chosen from this world. You've been chosen for the war."
"What? Who are you, and why-" I stopped. Something was wrong. Things didn't add up in my mind as I stood looking at this man. He was about six foot three inches tall and of a large stature. He looked to be about twenty one years old, and based on height and size, he should have weighed no less then two hundred pounds, yet he had almost fallen over when I grazed him. That, and his voice was somewhat unsettling. It was both deep and light, low and high, and in the strangest way sounded like my mother and worst enemy.
"Broady, you have been chosen. Take this with you as you go, you'll need it" The man said, handing me the box. It was small and appeared to be made of wood. I glanced at it for a moment, then turned to ask the man for his name. He was gone. I sent out a few shadow clones to search for him, but he was nowhere. I looked at the box, and then everything went black.
The lesson I should have learned here is to never, ever accept anything from someone that I don't know, but I'm far from that intelligent. My skills lie in pretty much everything but human to human relationships. If I don't have to know someone, I'll be nice to them, but I won't put thought into it. I suppose that it has something to do with my mind, but I have no idea. Give me a combat situation though, and I'll win. I've never lost a fight, and I am always the best at what I do. I'm a ninja in an age that thinks ninjas are fictional, and an age where man has lost sight of what's really important. I live in the village of the Sky Scrapers, the one from downtown New York. I don't pay attention to the street names though, since we don't deal in the town. We protect it, but it's the fact that we don't have to go into the city that shows that we keep it safe. We have a perimeter wide enough to keep most of the entire United States safe, and quite honestly, I've never even been to the home base in New York. I prefer to work on the west coast, where California used to be. I do roaming missions, and try to help keep people around in America. After all, that's what the ninja clans were founded to do. We keep the peace in this mad house.
Well, we try at least. Back in 2001, that's when all of the trouble really started. Some rogue ninja hijacked a plane and busted through our defensive barriers. They made the best tactical decision. I hate them for all things that they've done, and I'll grind their bones into the dust, but as a tactician, I have to say that they pulled the best move that they could have. They cut down one of the main hubs for the village, and we were all shocked. Rogue ninjas from the UK, disguising themselves as the Palestine to throw off the scent, but I knew better. They didn't believe me when I told em' that it had to be the Viktorian Style to pull it off, but what do I care... What can I do against em...
**I'll write more later, I need to sleep for now!** C:
No comments:
Post a Comment