S-Rank: Mist-ery Man

The word killer and monster were thrown around so loosely in the world now a day. It caused Nietzsche to question whether there were truly any real “monsters” left in the world, but he found one when he opened the morning newspaper. The headlines read: “Thirty attacked-one survives: Does the Mist have a resident serial killer?” Interested Nietzsche read on. It seemed that for the past month there had been non descript attacks on citizens of the Mist. The government had been trying to hold back the press so s to avoid city wide panic, but after thirty dead they could not hold back the floodgates. Reports were coming in about possible sightings and attacks, which somehow made the Killer be in four places at one time. A wave of hysteria was sweeping through the mist. It pitted neighbors against neighbors and friends against friends; anyone was thought to be the killer. The streets were deserted at dark and people usually traveled in groups. Nietzsche could not help wondering what the government was doing to find and eliminate this man; he assumed they had some ANBU on the job. While he was thinking of this there came a dull “Knock, knock, knock” on his door. Pulling himself out of his chair Nietzsche went up to answer it, but before he got half way to the door it swung open. Standing in the door way was a ANBU with a mouse mask who quickly started talking: “Sorry, but the door was unlocked.” The ANBU glanced at Nietzsche’s table and saw the newspaper laying open and continued: “I see you have already read about the predicament. We are in need of you assistance in finding and killing this…murder. Please report to the jail when you are ready.” With that the ANBU flickered off Nietzsche’s doorstep and off into the distance towards the Mizukage’s residence.

Slightly stunned Nietzsche stood in the middle of his living room still processing what he had been told: so he was to help catch this man who had killed so many? At first the task seemed rather daunting, but upon thinking about he knew he had to step up to the challenge and help his village. Moving quickly Nietzsche got his gear and closing and locking the door to his house left towards the jail. Walking out into the streets he was rather shocked: there was no one on the streets; the newspaper article must have sparked a new fear into the people. It was eerie sounds echoed off the walls and Nietzsche’s footsteps seemed to go across the whole city. Over night the city had turned into a ghost town. To Nietzsche’s surprise even the ryo hungry merchants who usually lined the streets in the marketplace had momentarily abandoned their posts; it was odd and rather creepy. As Nietzsche approached the jail he saw the first people he had seen, save the ANBU, all morning. A group of nervous looking Chuunin stood guard in front of the old jail.

As he approached the chuunin took battle positions, which Nietzsche found rather odd so he called out to them: “Hey it’s me no need to worry.” The chuunins relaxed and allowed Nietzsche to pass. One of them stepped up and started talking: “Sorry sir, but we have been on guard for the past night and you are the first person we have seen. Please go right on in the captain is waiting for you along with that poor sod.” Nietzsche was going to ask who the “poor sod” was, but figured that it would be answered all in good time. So he merely nodded at the chuunin who had stepped up and made his way into the jail. The scene inside the jail was one that he did not expect: The cells had been cleared out and now there was only a large table in the middle of the large circular room. At the table sat a man with an eye patch and across from him a lady who had a large bandage on her left arm. Nietzsche came in and took a seat at the table. Without looking away from the lady who sat across from him the eye patch man started to speak: “So I assume you know why you are here?” Rather confused Nietzsche responded: “Not really sir, I was just told that I was to help find the Killer. What this has to do with going to the jail I do not know.” Nietzsche noticed that when he mentioned the killer the lady who was at the table cringed a bit. The man with the eye patch grinned: “This here,” he indicated the bandaged lady “is the lone survivor of our little killer. She does not wish her name to be known and we have decided to respect that. She has seen the killer and therefore can give us details about him or her. Currently we are holding her here in the jail as a safety measure should the killer come back for her. Here is the information we have gotten from her.” He handed Nietzsche a folder and then told the lady she may retire to one of the high security cells. Before she left the lady turned to Nietzsche and said: “Be careful and find that monster.” Nietzsche responded with a stern nod and turned his attention to the folder he had been given.

The documents in the folder provided a vague sketch from the lady. It was not the best drawing, but it did reveal quite a bit about the killer. The killer was about average height and had long black hair that reached the shoulders, which made Nietzsche think it may be a woman, but then again he couldn’t judge anyone by their hair length having shoulder length hair himself. Most of the ladies descriptions seemed jumbled and skewed by her fear. The one defining thing that caught Nietzsche’s eye was the killer’s use of a large knife that, according to the witness, could move like a snake. That caught his eye, because a weapon like that could not be concealed very easily, which would be key in finding the killer. Nietzsche also read in the folder that the victims had not been ninja they had been normal citizens. That would mean Nietzsche would have to use the transformation jutsu to hide himself and look more like a person the killer would attack. A plan had already come into his mind: He would disguise himself as a common villager and roam the streets, because the streets were for the most part barren the killer must be getting desperate for a kill; he assumed the killer killed, because he enjoyed it. Judging from the murders the killer was violent. The killer left it’s victims slaughtered and mutilated in public places for the people to find. With a plan in mind Nietzsche looked up from the documents and asked the eye patch man a question: “So have you had any sightings or encounters with this killer?” The man nodded grimly and pulled out a picture from the folder Nietzsche had just been reading: “This guy was the one who found him. He sent out the signal for backup and we are there in five minutes and then we find him like this: all chopped up.” Looking at the grim picture Nietzsche thought about what he was now up against: a true killer.

Sighing Nietzsche got up from the table and thanked the captain with the eye patch for his help. He then set out from the jail; he needed time to think and form a real plan-this was not a mission to go into half hearted or without a proper plan. He passed by the scared group of chuunin who had stopped him on the way in. As he left he had the lady who had been attacked in mind. A plan was slowly developing in his mind and it involved that lady not directly, but her looks. He knew that the killer had attacked her once so why would he not attack her again? As he rounded a corner and lost sight of the jail he transformed into the lady he had met. Now all he needed to do was wait for nightfall. Until then he would wander the streets in the guise of the lady hoping to draw some attention from the killer.

As the day dragged on Nietzsche had many false alarms. One time he had almost attacked an old man who was picking up his trash from the ground in an alleyway. Though to Nietzsche it had looked like the man was stabbing into a body. The same cycle repeated itself until night when the streets were truly empty save for himself. As he walked the streets a cool mist descended upon the city. It wrapped itself around every corner and made the whole night seem that much more creepy. There was a new moon so it was pitch dark outside. Nietzsche was making his way across the open marketplace when he could have sworn he heard a footstep behind him. Whipping around he saw nothing, but still goose bumps rose on his skin and the hair on the back of his neck stood straight up. Someone or something was definitely there. He knew that if he wished to do battle with someone so violent then he would have to get it out of the city.
Nietzsche started running hoping to catch whatever was stalking him’s attention. He could hear thuds on the rooftops as he ran towards the village gates. Whatever was behind him was fast and closing in. The killer must have enjoyed the chase, because Nietzsche could hear that it was right above him and yet did not attack. Something about the person Nietzsche had transformed into had captured the killer’s attention. What it was he did not know, but as long as it was working it did not matter. All of a sudden Nietzsche tripped and fell onto the cool ground. He heard the movement on the roofs stop and then he heard a thud hit the cobblestone road he had been running on. Pulling himself up Nietzsche glanced behind him. There stood a large shadowy figure. Nietzsche quickly identified the figure as a man and in his right hand he grasped a large carving knife that was slowly growing in length. Then with a flick of the wrist the elongated knife came down towards Nietzsche. Nietzsche chose to avoid breaking his transformation, because he still needed to draw the Killer out of town. Instead of pulling out his tanto and blocking the knife Nietzsche rolled out of the way. With a smashing noise the knife became embedded in the ground only inches away from where Nietzsche’s head lay. The man with the knife gave it one quick tug and the knife retracted back to normal length. In that time Nietzsche had gotten up and started to run as fast as he could while still looking like an average citizen of the Mist. He heard the man swiftly following him.

Luckily the gates were now insight. Nietzsche could see the guards standing looking bewildered. He knew he had to get them out of the way so he screamed: “Get back! He is right behind me.” The guards tired from the night shift quickly jumped out of the way as a long blade sliced at the air where they once stood. Instead of staying to kill the guards the killer continued after the transformed Nietzsche. Once outside the gates Nietzsche knew it was time. The area in front of the gates was wide open and flat, which allowed for a good battlefield. This was it Nietzsche turned around and faced the Killer who now stood in the gateway of the village facing him. Nietzsche undid his transformation and drew his tanto now was the time to finish this mass murder. He called out to provoke the man: “You think you can kill me? I rather doubt it-you are weak.” While saying that Nietzsche assumed a defensive position and prepared for a battle to protect the Mist from any more harm.

(2049/4000)

For a while the killer just stood in the frame of the gates and slowly mist started to curl around his form. Then he flashed a manic like smile and let out a wolf like howl into the black night. The howl echoed around the entrance of the village hidden in the mist and sent shivers down Nietzsche’s spine; this guy did not seem human. All Nietzsche could see was the man’s outline as the sword in the man’s hand unwound and quickly darted right towards Nietzsche with killing intent. The sword was traveling on a direct path for Nietzsche’s head. It was moving at such speed that he barely had time to move out of the way. Diving to the left Nietzsche managed to avoid the brunt of the attack, but he felt a slight sting on his arm. Glancing down Nietzsche saw that his right arm had been grazed by the sword even though he was pretty sure he had dodged it completely. Nietzsche then looked over to see that the blade had imbedded itself very deeply in the ground. There was no way that it could have gone that far into the ground from pure strength. This revelation regarding the power of the man’s strikes lead Nietzsche to believe that the man had imbued his blade with a chakra nature; probably wind or something. Though he did not have too much time to reflect on that, because with another flick of the wrist the killer sent the sword out of the ground and right at Nietzsche. Again Nietzsche dodged the attacked, but got a shallow cut on his left cheek; the killer’s attacks were far too fast for him he had to think of something and fast or he was going to get himself slowly bled to death.

Nietzsche’s beating went on for ten minutes; the killer had given him little time to think yet each second felt like a minute and each minute like an hour. By the end of the ten minute spree Nietzsche was covered in cuts, none of, which were too serious by themselves, but together he was slowly losing blood; he had to end this soon. Nietzsche now knelt on one knee and looked up at the killer who had a large toothy grin on his face-the look of a murder about to get his high. The killer took one step closer to Nietzsche and started a monologue as his sword shrunk back to a normal size. “You thought you could kill me? How naïve you mist shinobi are. So far you have yet to even put a scratch on me. The standards of the Mist have truly fallen. I remember a time when this village was feared above all else as the bloody mist. If you must know that is why I kill. I kill to bring back an era of greatness for the Mist. You should feel honored to be a stepping stone on my journey. Here taste my steel for one last time-it will be the last thing you feel so take it in-this is the end.” While saying those last words the killer advanced quickly and now stood behind Nietzsche like an executioner with his blade to Nietzsche’s neck.

The killer rose his blade into the air in a smooth arc and slowly it started to drop towards Nietzsche’s throat. Petrified by fear and fatigue Nietzsche felt as time seemingly slowed down and moved to the interior. The familiar deep voice of the Bijuu filled his mind: “You are a fool Mizushima. You can not die here if you do not remember your training I will take over and finish what you cannot.” Nietzsche processed the Bijuu’s words quickly and responded: “No I can take him just give me chakra and I will do the rest. The Bijuu responded quick succinctly: “Well I would say you have about the time it takes that blade to travel two feet to make your move. I wish you luck.” With that the Bijuu’s presences disappeared, but its chakra remained. Now Nietzsche could do something-he could win. The Killer’s blade was now one foot from Nietzsche’s neck when all of a sudden a orange cloak sprung up around him. He could feel unrivaled power and speed as eight tails unfurled behind him. Nietzsche’s hand shot up and caught the blade and threw it back. He then sprung away in a blur and then squared off against the killer; this was it. Surprisingly a devilish smile flashed across the killer’s face: “So you are a monster as well? This will be interesting.” In a blur the man moved behind Nietzsche. Had Nietzsche not had the help of the tailed beast he would have had no chance of parrying the blow that came from the man’s odd sword. Then it struck Nietzsche: the man was faster than before; was he just playing with me before?

Flustered Nietzsche launched an attack of his own. Instead of turning around to face the killer he shot out a chakra arm in an attempt to grab and crush the killer, but that was a mistake. The killer easily sidestepped it and came down with his sword on the arm and to Nietzsche’s horror the chakra arm was sliced in half; it didn’t hurt it was just rather shocking. In an instant the Killer was right next to him trying to stab his guts out. It took all of Nietzsche’s skill and wit to evade the killer’s blade. It was hard, because he had to give the blade a large berth due to its nature enhancement. The killer’s attacks were relentless and flawless. Every on of the Killer’s attacks that left an opening was quickly closed by executing another move that protected that weak spot of the last. This man was an expert swordsman. While Nietzsche had little skill in hand to hand combat. The two men were becoming a blur of orange of black on the doorstep of the Mist. Nietzsche knew he had to finish this soon, because this man was easily standing up to a bijuu-it was not normal. Nietzsche activated his chakra scalpels and as they were fueled by the Bijuu’s chakra the extended t the length of a short sword. Now was the time for a counter attack. With a quick feint Nietzsche managed to get behind the man and stab a scalpel right through the killer’s heart. Though at the same time the killer’s sword swung around and caught Nietzsche in the back of the left thigh. Both figures fell into the darkness of the shadowless night.

Nietzsche’s tailed cloak dispersed and left the scene with little light. Nietzsche knew he had won, but at what cost? He removed the chakra scalpel from the killer’s heart and pulled the sword from his thigh. He then began healing it. While he healed the Killer stirred. Worried Nietzsche almost stabbed him again for good measure, but thought better of it. The killer rolled over and whispered out his dying words: “How fitting for a monster to ill a monster. You are so much like me you don’t even kno-“ The man’s breathing stopped and he lay there: dead. The Killer of Kirigakure was dead and the city was safe. The city could rest easy, but Nietzsche was no sure he could. The last words of the man echoed through his head as he sat beside him healing himself. How was he anything like the killer? Trying to push the haunting words from his mind Nietzsche pushed himself off the ground and picked up the killer’s body. With the killers body slung over his left shoulder Nietzsche strode back into the village. His wounds were still dripping blood, but he did not care. For now his only goal was to reach the jail where he had been assigned to find the killer.

At this point the sun was peaking over into the town. The citizens were awakening and looking out their windows saw their former horror dead. Nietzsche hoped that people would begin to mill through the streets once the death of the killer was announced. As he neared the jail he dropped down into a faint. Luckily the same group of chuunin who had almost attacked him earlier was there to take him into the jail to recuperate. When Nietzsche awoke it was dark again. He lay in a small cot and was being watched over by an ANBU, which struck him as rather odd. Though the second Nietzsche thought that the ANBU disappeared. Rather uneasily Nietzsche got out of bed and walked over to the big table in the jail’s center. There sat the captain with the eye patch. The captain quickly debriefed Nietzsche and sent him on his way. Though then it struck Nietzsche he never saw the killer’s body or weapons anywhere: had the government taken them? Really he did not care anymore. Right now he just wanted to go home and sleep in his own bed. Once he stepped out of the jail he could see that everything was back to normal people were roaming the streets and acted like nothing happened. The resilience of humans was really quite impressive. Nietzsche couldn’t help smiling a bit he had protected the Mist; even if he questioned why he protected he knew that he had protected it.

As he walked back through the streets he adjusted the bandages that were all over his body. While doing this he allowed his mind to wander. The man he fought had stood up to a Bijuu as an equal if not superior. Nietzsche wondered if there were other shinobi like that man in the world. If so he still had a long ways to go if he wanted a chance to truly survive a war or battle. Something else troubled him as he walked: thee killer had fought so hard and killed many people just to advance his belief. Nietzsche wondered if he would do that; kill to protect his belief or way of life. Putting the troublesome thought out of his mind Nietzsche watched as some of the neighborhood kids played ninja and criminal. It was an innocent game, but Nietzsche could help think that someday those kids would be ninja and they would believe that killing was the way to get things done; it was a sad prospect, but one which was unavoidable.

Finally after the long walk Nietzsche arrived at his home. He was never more happy to see the familiar door. Nothing like a close shave with death like the one he had to make one appreciate the simple things in life. He pushed open his door and sighed his house was a mess. Junk just piled up all over the place, but he never had time to clean so he figured it would remain untidy for a good long time, at least until he had the motivation and energy to clean. Making his way through to the stove Nietzsche brewed himself a cup of jasmine tea and after drinking it went to bed. Before he slept he remembered the words of the Killer “we are the same…It takes a monster to kill a monster.” In killing the killer what had Nietzsche become. The thought dogged him into sleep where it manifested in his dreams. No matter how hard he tried to put it out of his mind he could not, because he himself had become a killer and a monster.
(4003/4000 mission done )

Approved the completion of the mission and approved the listed reward with +12 JP