The full moon hangs limply in the night sky. A slight breeze swiftly sweeps through the tall grass that borders the long road. A lone samurai is walking slowly down the road. He is of average height with a slim but muscular frame. He is an unusual looking samurai. His head is not shaven in front and pulled into a topknot like other samurai, his hair is set in a ponytail that waves lightly in the wind. It is a cool night as the samurai walks down the seemly endless path. He has a calm almost soothing expression on his smooth face. He wears a slight smile as he gazes at the enormous yellowish white orb stationed in the sky. The samurai stops suddenly his face completely expressionless; the calm has disappeared from his face. A whistle emits from a shuriken that launches itself from the woods stationed on the eastern border of the road. He swiftly unsheathes his katana and deflects the shuriken with one swing of the blade. He waits patiently as seven dark figures emerge from the woods. They dark figures get closer and closer until they too have gotten on the road. Each man has a noi mask placed upon their face. They encircle the samurai; each pulls out katanas. Time passes slowly, each man breaths with a quicken pace as the moon gets closer and closer toward its summit in the sky. All breathe heavily; all except the lone samurai who still wears an emotionless expression as if he too is wearing a noi mask. Two of the seven launch themselves at the samurai just as the moon reaches its summit. The face of the samurai transforms in a split second right before the men reach him. His once emotionless face turns into a face of joy and glee. He cuts the first to reach him down. From his shoulder to his abdomen does he cut. Blood explodes from the wound. The second swings with a deadly arc directed to cleave the head of the samurai’s neck. In one fluid motion he ducks and slashes the man across the stomach. Blood and liquefied stomach matter spray upon the ground. The samurai has already forgotten the two and are going after the five. The five masked men flee across the grass towards the relative safety of the woods. The samurai seems to glide across the grass, as he reaches each man he cuts him down with a killer’s efficiency and skill. His blade drips with blood as he stops above the final corpse. He wipes it clean on the bodies’ kimono. He walks swiftly through the grass until he reaches the dirt road. “The moon looks lovely tonight”, says the lone samurai. He continues down the night road wearing a slight smile.
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