rewrote chapter 1 of "santuro"
PostPosted: Thu Oct 23, 2003 6:59 pm
Hi everyone...i read my chapter 1 and it was a bit short and not very good compared to how i usually write so i'm gonna try it again and it's gonna be longer....This however will only be PART of chapter 1 so don't be too dissapointed if it's a tad short......again there is some violence and blood and no this anti Christian though at the moment the main character is......
Chapter 1
He ran faster and faster. Have to get away, he thought, furiously trying to erase from his mind the screams. Trees became blurred images. The moonlight dripped from the sky casting an eerie glow, a deathlike glow.
It had been raining, it's evidence creating obstacles and muddied shoes. His breath came in short gasp. Half-crazed and dissollusioned the young samurai spotted a modest farm house. The barn door was open and at the moment the occupants seemed to be sleeping or away. As if fleeing monsters, he ran and flung himself through the door and closed it as fast as his shaking fingers allowed him.
He welcomed the dark that was penetrated by the moon through a hole in the roof. He let himself breathe now. Remembering his deed he vomited, until nothing left came.
A trough full of water though, apparently those who would have used it were not in, was there by the stalls. He noticed his reflection: his smooth brown hair desheveled from it's bun, strands behaving wildly. Most of all he noticed the blood. It spattered his clothes, face, katana, as if he had just been dipped in paint. But I was, he remembered bitterly, the paint of another's life.
He fought the urge to vomit and frantically washed the blood off. The blood ran and turned the water red. He sat down, looking up at the moon, positioned against an old stable with straw. The ground was moist from the monsoon type rain. He started laughing remembering it all, a crazed laughter that the sick in heart and mind made. It had rained, oh yes it had rained, he cackled, with man's blood, with Christian blood. This rekindled his anger that he had felt before. He remembered it all.
His clan, the ryu-gumi, was assigned by government officials to secretly assasinate a man and his family that they deemed threatening towards the government. Later they were briefed that these were Christians who had been preaching an "evil western religion" in attempts to overthrow the government.
He had been chosen among those to carry out this deed. Granted he was 15 but they said it was his chance to prove his loyalty as a patriot to the ryu-gumi and to test his skills as a samurai. It was a command, not a request. He agreed rather wholeheartedly. Afterall, he hated these evil spreaders of western religion as anyone did and it was an honor to rid their country from them.
He had promise, studying since he was orphaned when he was born and taking the best swordsmanship in the country surpassed by knowone.The ryu-sen was unsurpassed in both speed and strength from anywhere in Japan. He had mastered all the skills, now it was his time to prove his strength. And i had killed them, he laughed, it had rain blood in fiery waves.
THey of course knew nothing, realizing to late to save themselves from there own demise. And they were foolishly praying to their God, he spat, anger rekindled once more. A thought crossed his mind, Did i do the right thing? Of course i did, they were the enemy. But did i do the right thing? The thought wouldn't leave him no matter he sayed. Tantoru said that the first kill would be the hardest, remebering his mentor and trainer, that is all it is, he consoled himself. But did I do the right thing?
This drifted on his mind until he, Santuro, samurai, master of the sword and now murderer, let darkness consume him. The screams of his victims haunting his dreams.
Chapter 1
He ran faster and faster. Have to get away, he thought, furiously trying to erase from his mind the screams. Trees became blurred images. The moonlight dripped from the sky casting an eerie glow, a deathlike glow.
It had been raining, it's evidence creating obstacles and muddied shoes. His breath came in short gasp. Half-crazed and dissollusioned the young samurai spotted a modest farm house. The barn door was open and at the moment the occupants seemed to be sleeping or away. As if fleeing monsters, he ran and flung himself through the door and closed it as fast as his shaking fingers allowed him.
He welcomed the dark that was penetrated by the moon through a hole in the roof. He let himself breathe now. Remembering his deed he vomited, until nothing left came.
A trough full of water though, apparently those who would have used it were not in, was there by the stalls. He noticed his reflection: his smooth brown hair desheveled from it's bun, strands behaving wildly. Most of all he noticed the blood. It spattered his clothes, face, katana, as if he had just been dipped in paint. But I was, he remembered bitterly, the paint of another's life.
He fought the urge to vomit and frantically washed the blood off. The blood ran and turned the water red. He sat down, looking up at the moon, positioned against an old stable with straw. The ground was moist from the monsoon type rain. He started laughing remembering it all, a crazed laughter that the sick in heart and mind made. It had rained, oh yes it had rained, he cackled, with man's blood, with Christian blood. This rekindled his anger that he had felt before. He remembered it all.
His clan, the ryu-gumi, was assigned by government officials to secretly assasinate a man and his family that they deemed threatening towards the government. Later they were briefed that these were Christians who had been preaching an "evil western religion" in attempts to overthrow the government.
He had been chosen among those to carry out this deed. Granted he was 15 but they said it was his chance to prove his loyalty as a patriot to the ryu-gumi and to test his skills as a samurai. It was a command, not a request. He agreed rather wholeheartedly. Afterall, he hated these evil spreaders of western religion as anyone did and it was an honor to rid their country from them.
He had promise, studying since he was orphaned when he was born and taking the best swordsmanship in the country surpassed by knowone.The ryu-sen was unsurpassed in both speed and strength from anywhere in Japan. He had mastered all the skills, now it was his time to prove his strength. And i had killed them, he laughed, it had rain blood in fiery waves.
THey of course knew nothing, realizing to late to save themselves from there own demise. And they were foolishly praying to their God, he spat, anger rekindled once more. A thought crossed his mind, Did i do the right thing? Of course i did, they were the enemy. But did i do the right thing? The thought wouldn't leave him no matter he sayed. Tantoru said that the first kill would be the hardest, remebering his mentor and trainer, that is all it is, he consoled himself. But did I do the right thing?
This drifted on his mind until he, Santuro, samurai, master of the sword and now murderer, let darkness consume him. The screams of his victims haunting his dreams.
I really like your idea for this story. I think it's a fantastic idea for a manga, short story or anything. I'd really love to see this work out. Man, what a great idea. Why don't you go ahead and read as much as you can on the Christian persecution as Techno commented, but I think you've done great in developing a very understanding character. 
Instantly, I related to the samurai. I'll definitely get back to you on it.