The Headless one

A Chapter by Imagination-mage

Two Centuries Ago

In Kyoto Japan in the Oda Period

Location: Puppet makers house

The winter sky was a dark blue, the snow stained with a horrible blood red that surrounded two girls, one wielding a scythe while the other wielded a samurai sword- both wearing black. The corpses around them were freezing from the sheer cold but the two didn’t care. They were in front of a large, traditional Japanese house- a place they’d been searching for twenty years. The windows were blocked and the doors bolted shut. The sword wielder approached the door, trying to get the sliding door to open but to be proven that these were no ordinary locks. The scythe wielder stepped forward, lifting her large metal platted foot and kicking down the door, it crashed to the floor revealing a dark hallway.

“Is he here?” the sword wielder asked, peaking in. Her companion walked in, looking both ways. The moon showed what they wore, the scythe wielder wearing bulky armor and a red cape flowing down its back, its companion wearing a cloak and large black mud covered boots. The two entered the house, the sword wielders foot stepping on a loose floorboard and the scythe wielder stopped her. A large piece of timber came swinging towards them, the two ducking in unison.

“Stay close.” The scythe wielder said.

“Who knew the old geezer owned a ninja house.” The sword wielder said. They crept through the house, dodging in coming traps and making their way towards the bedroom. They stuck to the wall, the scythe wielder nodding towards her companion before kicking down the door and holding her weapon high in the air only to find the room bare.

“He was in here…” was her only reply.

Her companion peaked inside, looking around till something caught her eye.

“Look out!” She cried. The scythe wielder spun around, an axe swinging towards her till it connected with her neck and sliced her head clean off. The head twirled into the air, a shoot suddenly opening and the head disappearing through it. The sword wielder ran to her companion and brought the body up. The body moved a bit, before looking around. The two heard the sound of horses, fleeing from the spot. The sword wielder dashed towards the only available window in the hall only to see a chariot race from the house, an old man steering it. He had something tucked under his arm, but it was wrapped in black silk.

“We need to move he’s getting away!” the sword wielder said racing to her headless companion. The scythe wielder was dazed, being able to sit up but she seemed a bit scattered. The house suddenly rumbled the sword wielder on high alert again. Her nose picked up the smell of burning charcoal and gun powder. The sword wielder threw herself over her companion, a large explosion of flames and smoke erupted from the house, enflaming everything. The old man riding the chariot looked back, the explosion sparking and soon dying down.

“That’ll teach ‘em.” He mumbled and looked at the object tucked under his arm. Inside contained the head of the scythe wielder, a priceless item he needed. “I can save her now, she’ll be safe now.”

The scythe wielder found herself under a pile of rubble, being shielded. She tried getting up only to see her companion on top of her.

When she tried speaking, nothing came out. She tried reaching up to her face but found nothing. She panicked suddenly, looking around the ground. Even though she didn’t have her head, she still had her five senses with her.

Where is it?! Brooke, help me!! She thought urgently.

She turned to her companion’s lifeless body. Her skin was so horribly scorched that some of her skin was melting away, revealing bone. Her companion, Brooke, suddenly erupted into a black mist, shooting into the sky and disappearing. The scythe wielder just laid there, her hands trembling. She tightened them into fists and thought I have to find my head….

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