Mineko: Book of Kaiko

An excerpt – not a final edit.

Kaiko stood sideways to the second boy as she stood over the decapitated body before her. She slowly turned her blood-splattered face to look at him over her shoulder. A burning rage buried deep within her steely eyes cut through to him. Raising the crimson-stained katana, she pointed the blade toward him, “Run or die . . . it does not matter to me,” she hissed at him.

Kaiko could see the trembles of fear rush through his body. “Foolish boy,” she thought.

Reaching for his tachi with his silk-gloved hand, he pulled it and grasped the wasabi, a shorter thinner blade, with his left hand. Raising both weapons above his head, he sent them twirling and whipping through the air in an attempted display at bravery. Bringing them down, front and center to bear, he let loose a weak “Aieee” – his voice cracking.

Kaiko smirked; she did not have time for his nonsense.

In the blink of an eye, Kaiko spun to her right and slashed her deadly katana to the left, knocking both of his swords to the right. His wasabi broke free and careened across the dirty stone floor with a clatter. Her path clear, she took one step forward and drove her sleek tantō up under his lightly bearded chin and into his mouth – the blade’s tip skewering his tongue.

“You should have run . . . ” she said to him through clenched teeth.

The last thing his dim vision saw was the intense wrath and fury exploding in her dark brown eyes. Kaiko finished shoving her tantō completely through the roof of his mouth, bursting into his brain cavity. She tilted the blade back, towards the rear of his head, before ripping it out. His lifeless body crumbled to the stones immediately.

Spinning on the ball of her left foot, she turned her attention to the richly dressed man writhing in pain on the cold stones behind her. Her spent arrow, planted beneath his collarbone, pierced his chest right next to his throat. Kaiko proceeded to sheath her tantō, fresh with the foolish boys’ blood. Shifting the katana from her left to her right hand, she placed the leading edge on his chest, directly above his rapidly beating heart. A storm of hatred flushed throughout her body as she stared directly into his black eyes.

Copyright © 1975-2020 RG Dillon. All Rights Reserved.

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