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Bloodlines Chapter8Hanako watched as if it was in slow motion, blood streamed down Hirosha's hand from Hiro's stomache. It all had happened so quickly she still didn't realize what was happening. Hiro's right hand pushed fowards, an orb of white swirling chakra in his palm. Hanako realized then that it was the end of the battle.
Hiro grabbed Hirosha's hand that was imbedded in his stomache and leaned foward, putting his right arm foward. "Rasengan!" Hirosha knew that there was no way to dodge the attack, but it was the end of the battle, one or both of them were about to die. He looked into Hiro's eyes, they were the purest white he had ever seen. So Hiro kun, you did what you said you would, you found power with out following me....pity i didn't figure it out a long time ago.... The Rasengan hit Hirosha dead in the chest. For a split second the world stopped. Hiro clenched his jaw as Hirosha's hands was ripped from his stomache. The mist assassin was launched into the air. Hirosha's body flipp
Blood lines Chapter 7Resune Walked out of the forest, a stream of blood trickling from his broken nose. He looked at Hanako's house a few yards away. The lights were all on and the door stood wide open, but there was no movement, no signs of life. Hanako, please be alright. He jogged the distance to the door and froze. Hanako lay in a pool of her own blood. He fell to his knees and let his head hang down. Dammit, its too late.....Hiro you bastard! As Resune sat there, Hanako's chest rose and fell, a short and ragged breath escaped her body. Resune sat stuned for half a second "Hanako!" He did several fast handseals and placed his hands on her chest. "Healing jutsu." Hanako bolted up. "HIRO!!!!" Resune sat back. "He's gone, don't worry. Are you ok?" Hanako tried to stand, slipping a bit in her own blood. "We have to help Hiro kun!" Resune starred at Hanako like she was mad. "Are you crazy Hanako chan? He just tried to kill you!" Hanako's gaze fell to the floor. "No, that wasn't Hiro kun th
Tales of the ForceThe blood snaked its way from the lifeless body of the once proud and powerful Jedi watchman. The young jedi knight who sat with his hands bound by a sheilded set of handcuffs was wondering who was truely the lucky one right now. He tried once again to probe the cuffs with the force, but once again his attempt was thrawted by the shielding. He searched the ground and caught sight of his lightsaber, too far away to help even if his hands weren't bound. The sith troopers in silver reflectiv armor that stood around him came to attention as a figure in hooded black robes walked into the hall of the starship. The figure stoped infront of the Jedi and stared into the young man's blue eyes. Slowly he lifted his hands and pulled away the hood, reveling a scarred and mutulated face that could only be held together by the energies of the darkside. In a flash of robes and red light, the sith lord's lightsaber made an arc, stoping beside the jedi's neck. The brown haired jedi looked up. "Finish it
The experience of deathHe wasn't that old, only thirty, but it was his time. Even as he closed his eyes in this stark hospital room, he knew he would never awaken. To his surprise, he opened his eyes to find, not the dark tunnel with a light at the end, or the firey pits of hell, but the unverse laid bare. Every constelation, planet, and star. And at that moment he knew the true beauty of the universe. Around him he saw life, only a small portion, but visible none the less in the great vastness. He saw men and women going about their lives. He saw others too, alien races, some no more advanced then us, some so advanced they lay at the doorstep of destruction. And then he looked past the life, past the stars and galaxies. There he saw the one thing that every life in the universe searched for. Meaning. He saw the meaning to life, the reason for exsitance, and he knew that what he now knew was still only a small part of the grander plan of the universe. Knowing this, he slowly closed his eyes, feeling his conc
The end of humanity will not be some explosion of death or a
screaming last stand.
It will be a whimper as man kills himself slowly,
Cutting off it's own air.
The last men and women on earth will be survivors,
The last of their kind,
Warriors of unparalleled prowess.
And slowly they will pass from existence,
Perhaps leaving behind what they knew to the next sentients to
take man's place in the Universe.
Or maybe leaving nothing but the ghostly shells of man's former
The skeletons of our buildings and monuments shall be the
mysteries of the Universe.
Stories of an empire so large it fell to pieces.
Of a society that fought amongst itself and won.
And our graves shall stand as a warning.
The war we fought with ourselves was our down fall.
And somewhere along the way, someone will understand our
Then see through our mi
A Blade's ThirstThe taste of battle settled in his throat, the young swordsman lay dead, his shattered body in two tattered pieces, but the renegade samurai couldn't leave the boy. He realized that the young warrior had reminded him of himself. He began to wonder how similar their lives had been, had the boy suffered through the same trials he had, or had he been given the postion. Had the boy signed for this suicidal mission, or had he been forced to take it. The ex-samuria looked around the blood and snow covered ground, the patterns in an almost artful composition, all leading to the body. He looked at his sword, now a trophy for when a bountyhunter would finaly claim him, the blood ran down it slowly, as if reluctant to leave the blade. So was life, the outlaw mussed, a slow thing that sits on the blade of a sword, waiting to fall and die. Once again he found his gaze wondering to the boy's corpse, he couldn't take his eyes off it, it looked so much like himself as a young man. He gave in, he had
untitled patrioticI saw those towers fall,
Me and the boys,
we went off to war,
well, i came back,
a bullet in my chest,
but i smiled on,
knowing i had given my best.
Its been a month,
barely time to heal,
I saw through his mask of steel,
and i knew..
that i was the only one that would ever come back.
As we spoke,
he confirmed my fears,
their helicoptor was a wreck,
on some desert dune,
He said 'I'm sorry,
The service is at noon.'
i nodded and walked him to the door
As he left he threw me a salute,
I shut the door,
Waited for the car to leave,
and fell to the floor,
Only three weeks ago,
we had been friends,
now i'm here,
the last one left,
I stand through the pain,
and stare out at my flag fly'n in the yard,
I remeber what we fought for,
and know they didn't die in vain,
Later that day
I stood by four graves,
and gave a parting salute,
to four American brave.
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