Name: Ayame Kasagi
Rank: Trainee
Historical Account #2:
To use an old cliche, the day it all went wrong started out like any other day. Hard work in the fields, break time relaxing with Guì yīng under a tree, a small but meaningful lunch with my mother.
The bandits came in the middle of the afternoon. It was on odd time to attack, unless you knew why they were there. They purposely attacked at that point to send a message. I was told years afterwards that they were hired by a gambling rival of my father's, who lost really badly to him the previous day, and claimed foul play. My father may have had gambling as a vice, what man doesn't have his vices, but he was no cheater. That, of course, meant nothing to a man who's "honor was lost". He was a slime ball, who lived off his father's money and who never learned to take responsibility for his actions. This would be his down fall, as he refused to pay the bandits for their service when they found out they hadn't finished the job, and they strung him up by his entrails.
This did little for my lose, though. I remember them cackling outside our home as they goaded my father into coming out to face them. He did, and asked them to please take whatever they wanted, as long as they left his family in peace. This only made them laugh harder. My father was no fighter; he lasted about a minute before the leader had his sword in my father's belly. Everything happened so fast at that point. I remember my brothers rage filled cries as they grabbed the nearest weapon they could get. I remember as my mother grabbed my sister and my hands to throw us in a closet to hide. The bandits were too fast though, and they spotted us before my sister could join me in hiding.
I....I remember what happened next, too. It is an image that is burned into my memory, and will never go away. They...they grabbed my mother and sister and threw them to the ground. They had to kick the bodies of my dead brothers out of the way to make room. My mother fought back, yelling for them to let my sister go. A pair of knives through her hands kept her from struggling, and when they tired of her begging screams, a knife through her throat took care of that. They didn't need her alive for their fun, anyway.
My sister...she didn't even struggle. She just laid there, tears streaming from her glazed over eyes. My beloved sister's beautiful eyes were replaced by the dead stare of someone who had given up. I couldn't keep my voice down for long. I remember the terrified look in my sister's eyes when the bandits heard me whimpering. But as they approached my hiding spot, it wasn't just sadness I felt. There was also cold, unbridled, blinding rage.
When I came back to my senses, the bandits were all dead. I was dripping with blood, and holding the severed head of the bandit leader, an expression of pure terror frozen on his face. The neighbors who came to investigate the commotion said when they first approached, I was repeatedly chopping at his body with a scythe, laughing maniacally as his blood splashed against my face. They were too scared to approach me, and did their best to avoid me as they took away the bodies. They left me in the hands of the imperial investigators who soon came to see this "akuma no ko" who killed half a dozen men by herself.
Soon would begin my new life of murder and blood.
Rank: Trainee
Historical Account #2:
To use an old cliche, the day it all went wrong started out like any other day. Hard work in the fields, break time relaxing with Guì yīng under a tree, a small but meaningful lunch with my mother.
The bandits came in the middle of the afternoon. It was on odd time to attack, unless you knew why they were there. They purposely attacked at that point to send a message. I was told years afterwards that they were hired by a gambling rival of my father's, who lost really badly to him the previous day, and claimed foul play. My father may have had gambling as a vice, what man doesn't have his vices, but he was no cheater. That, of course, meant nothing to a man who's "honor was lost". He was a slime ball, who lived off his father's money and who never learned to take responsibility for his actions. This would be his down fall, as he refused to pay the bandits for their service when they found out they hadn't finished the job, and they strung him up by his entrails.
This did little for my lose, though. I remember them cackling outside our home as they goaded my father into coming out to face them. He did, and asked them to please take whatever they wanted, as long as they left his family in peace. This only made them laugh harder. My father was no fighter; he lasted about a minute before the leader had his sword in my father's belly. Everything happened so fast at that point. I remember my brothers rage filled cries as they grabbed the nearest weapon they could get. I remember as my mother grabbed my sister and my hands to throw us in a closet to hide. The bandits were too fast though, and they spotted us before my sister could join me in hiding.
I....I remember what happened next, too. It is an image that is burned into my memory, and will never go away. They...they grabbed my mother and sister and threw them to the ground. They had to kick the bodies of my dead brothers out of the way to make room. My mother fought back, yelling for them to let my sister go. A pair of knives through her hands kept her from struggling, and when they tired of her begging screams, a knife through her throat took care of that. They didn't need her alive for their fun, anyway.
My sister...she didn't even struggle. She just laid there, tears streaming from her glazed over eyes. My beloved sister's beautiful eyes were replaced by the dead stare of someone who had given up. I couldn't keep my voice down for long. I remember the terrified look in my sister's eyes when the bandits heard me whimpering. But as they approached my hiding spot, it wasn't just sadness I felt. There was also cold, unbridled, blinding rage.
When I came back to my senses, the bandits were all dead. I was dripping with blood, and holding the severed head of the bandit leader, an expression of pure terror frozen on his face. The neighbors who came to investigate the commotion said when they first approached, I was repeatedly chopping at his body with a scythe, laughing maniacally as his blood splashed against my face. They were too scared to approach me, and did their best to avoid me as they took away the bodies. They left me in the hands of the imperial investigators who soon came to see this "akuma no ko" who killed half a dozen men by herself.
Soon would begin my new life of murder and blood.
