Enter: The Blood Prince

Day One: When Prodigies Collide
As the glimmering orb of light began its languid descent, a nearly oppressive silence would fall upon the forested area. Shadows, like the specters of stalwart protectors, lengthened in response to the fading night. The only movement in this forested land belonged to the panicked prey, preparing for the night. It was time for the beasts of the day to hide from the world.... and time for the monsters that called night their home to rise. Yet tonight there was a monster unlike any this land had ever known. For this monstrous creature wore the skin of humanity as his deception. This was not a wolf in sheep's clothing. This was a demon in the guise of a wolf, unrelenting in its pursuit of its prey. Yet just as the last remnants of light graced skin of pale alabaster, the monster awakened with nary a start. 

Long, feminine lashes fluttered, and, below, pink lids that so reluctantly slid open to reveal those crimson red irises that glittered in the dying light as if challenging the very sun in a battle of radiance. Short limbs of perfectly-formed sinew hangs lazily from the branch on which our predator finds himself as the rough bark of the tree digs into his bare, broad back. In utter silence, he watches the last vestiges of light stream through the thick foliage. Nostrils flare gently as the scent of a soon-dead campfire reaches his sensitive nose. Then, ever so gently, the softest of touches reaches the back of his left hand. In silence he bears this annoyance. He is but a part of the tree in which he resides.... until he strikes.

 With a speed that the human world had come to envy, the creature's hands contort and turn as nimble fingers close around the source of his torment. Sharp nails break through the weak material, and he feels the flutter against his fingertips. Raising his hand slowly, languidly, he would lift the new prisoner to his argent gaze. What he found soon delighted him. A wonderful butterfly, vibrant in its beauty, rested in his grasp. Its wings pinned by his nails, the sad creature could but flutter in its bondage. Smiling gently, the demon would raise his other hand as his other hand adjusted its grip. Soon, a wing was held in each hand. Slowly, deliberately, the creature would pull at the wings of the butterfly until, with the sound of a dry leaf, the wings were torn from the creature. His amusement gone, the predator would drop the remnants of his toy away as he rose to a sitting position, his legs wrapping easily around the thick branch. Looking down upon his camp thirty feet below, the one known to this world as Capulet, Nikuyo would only scoff in annoyance. Where was his opponent at this time of night? What could have possibly held him up? He was told to prepare for a spar hours ago and he had still failed to return in a timely manner. It seemed that this peasant was in dire need of discipline, and Nikuyo himself needed something to get his muscles working again. This waiting had grown to annoy the blood prince in the days since he had made his decision. He yearned, no... Ached, to feel a life fading from existence by his hand.... But the time was not yet here. Slipping easily from his perch to fall through the air, the man would alight upon the ground with a gentle puff of dust as night finally descended.... and there he stood, his arms crossed in annoyance as he awaited the peasant, ready to enact punishment.
 Untrained human nature was not frank and innocent; it was full of the twists and defenses of an instinctive guile. It further tends to leave the self in disarray, without an orientation. And it risks remaining wastefully engaged in psychological sciamachy – a struggle with the shadows and demons that haunt the genin, the things that led him to Nikuyo in the first place. And oh, to think that he should have disobeyed and practiced on that cruel, that venerable boy, whose name he bore; that merciless and demonic guardian. That damned Blood Prince. But time seemed to slip casually from the handicapped male, extemporaneous ideology wavered in his mind on his path to rendezvous with his tutor of darkness. Campfire sparks drifted in the meek zephyr, illuminating the make-shift pit stop before the true travels of the dynamic duo started.
"I'm here, had to make a few extra stops." 
Koro spoke upon breaking the brush leading to the rest area, scarlet pupils fixated on the dark haired man who grimaced in revile. He awaited some idiotic or rhetorical retort to break above the cackling fire between the men.
There the man, the boy, the demon, the prince, the first, the best, the only stood before the genin, the dying embers of the once-mighty flame sputtering and twisting in the night as they provide the only illumination of the short wannabe-vamp. Shadows linger upon his features even as his eyes glimmer with an unearthly glow. In these moments, he was the Merciless Bloody Demon of Chigakure. The night breeze casts up a swirl of embers between the two shinobi as Nikuyo's muscles tense and release in preparation for what was to come. Lips so accustomed to bringing filth and degradation part to deliver a scathing retort, but in that moment they falter. Onward he stares, not into the genin's eye.... but into his chest. His mind whirls with thoughts, actions, and meaning. He sees all, and yet nothing. To end a life is simple... To shape it... that is the proof of power. Yet Nikuyo had always relied on one tool and one only… His fists. If it took pounding the child before him into a mass of meat and blood to get the respect that he had worked so hard to retain, along with him position, then so be it. Finally, he was ready to proceed. He knew his plan, and he knew it well. A soft exhalation is the only warning one would receive as a slender leg lifts from the dirt and casts forward in a deliberate kick. This move is slow, telegraphed, but his goal is hidden... until his boot-clad foot dips into the fire. There it hooks around a smoldering log, lifting the mass from the fire with ease and casting it towards his target with deliberate speed. Onward the log flies, hanging easily at eye level of the half-blind genin. Yet this is just a ruse, a distraction for the man's real goal. Even as the log hangs in the air, almost motionless due to his senses, he darts forward. His body leans forward as he sprints in the shadow of the log, his body low and his arms wide. All he needed was a deflection. A duck, and his plan would work. If the boy was foolish enough or too slow, then he would find the full weight of the Capulet slamming  into his lower abdomen with his full weight before being forced to the ground.
 The sudden discovery of Nikuyo's abrupt assault, which lied so near and obvious to the genin’s mind, is a sad instance of the stupidity and inattention of Koro, who, though he is surrounded with such clear manifestations, is yet so little affected by them; that it seemed as he was unaware of the genin's sick skills.  An urgent response of alacrity and aid from his ass saving vision gave incredibly helpful insight to the preemptive strike from the dumbass that rushed recklessly before him. Surely this wasn't a surprise, time and time again Nikuyo had forced the genin into these... impromptu spars, for reasons the boy often didn't really give a shit about. Curiosity didn't matter anymore. These days he didn't want to be transported to emotional territories where he didn't know how to react, combat was easy. It's a great example of his instinctive guile, what's the first thing Nikuyo did when he laid crimson red irises upon the almighty genin? He practiced and expressed his Neolithic nature, birthed in the fire of combat. But the pseudo - philosophy of the one-eyed anarchist would be a speech for another day, because he actually had an urgent problem of his own right before him! Inbound fire of a solid piece of kindle that the red head flung at him was one thing, having the cruel prince charge him was another! But the ingenious reaction of the Genin would really showoff the glamorous fighting style of his particular clan. Smooth, graceful, and balletic, all easily describing the flowing extension of his left arm, firmly planting on the greasy head of the mobile Genin. A quick dash off the ground put the counteracting Koro into an elegant flip, using the forward momentum of his adversary to turn upside-down! What about the burning log being hefted through the air as well? Nikuyo was clearly slower than any burning log so it would've met the Koro’s forearm, had it not been for the removal of his firm placement upon Nikuyo, the backflip progressing into an immediate and deliberately sharp drop kick with the heel of his steel tabi in the works aimed center spine of the merciless man. The warmth of the passing tinder illuminating the tanned face of the boy as his body spun for the critical blow he had prepared.
This short, earth shattering meeting would serve only as a display of the power two shinobi could display upon meeting. It was a power known only to those hidden in the leaves, for words spread fast that the young flame was growing, and if word had failed to reach those in need, then they may find themselves bathing in the flames that spread with lesser haste. Words had spread about these two young prodigies, and today they displayed their undefinable mastery of the arts. It came to no surprise when Capulet Nikuyo stood as the last man standing. He was, after all, one of them. He was one of the urban legends. He was… a God.

Day Two: Teaching History
All was well for the peacefully resting people of the great Hidden Rouge Capital, why would things be wrong? Nobody had dared threaten the mighty rouge leader in who knows how long? But tonight the air seemed.... tense, oddly tense. Things just seemed off and nobody could place a finger as to why? Because not even the venerable rouge leader could guess the unparalleled acts that would scar the shinobi world and change the fate of the poor, rocky village. Under guidance of a shining full moon, a dreadful pair of voracious killers dawned a bloodlust to wipe clean the slate of extensive years of peace that seemed to last forever. Trudging through the cool, midnight sand, one of the raven cloaked men would turn his head to the other, and a small retort would break the silence of the duo's travel. "Are you ready, seriously, are we going to do this?" The male’s voice was obviously distressed, but he had to prove he would be calm and steadfast in tonight's volatile actions. Error would not be allowed, and once he stepped into the wooden gates, his life would be refined; for better or for worse, but only time could tell.
 Beside the boy the taller figure would pause for nary a moment at the question lobbed his way. A sliver of annoyance began to wriggle into his mind at being asked such a stupid question. How long had he trained the fucker, and still he remained so seemingly foolish in the way the world worked. It was not kill or be killed. It was rip a fucker's head off and shit down his neck, or die in obscurity. With this very thought coursing through his mind, the man would tilt his head slightly and respond. "Yes, it is necessary. This fucker thinks he can do what he likes? Time to prove him wrong. Now shut your fucking mouth. We're close." With that, the man would catch a glimmer of light from the entrance of the bunker less than a mile away. It seemed it was time for fun. As quickly as he began, the man would begin to sprint towards his goal in a spray of sand that would blind the younger male, a shadowy blade slithering out of his sleeve as the distance grew shorter and shorter.
 With a racing mind and an already pounding heart, the younger male flinched in the wake of flying sand as he tilted his hood to deflect the spray. Glancing back up he would be focused on his sprinting partner, closing the gap between the two as his fleeting feet picked up. Closing his mind to all outside variables of this mission, he needed to clear his mind and just focus on the task at hand. Looking around and laying eyes upon the first target would let the reality of what was about to happen sink in... The words of the older man just kept echoing in his mind, but he would have to follow his orders. A clasping left hand would reach to grasp the large chain on his back, bringing it forward as he ran in silence among the desert night.
As the man known as a villain throughout the Shinobi world heard his little slave following behind, the cloaked male would focus his attention on the targets before him. In the time it would take most to even blink, the faceless killer saw it all: the metal door blocking entrance to the natural cave, the three bored rouge shinobi that were as-of-yet unaware of their onrushing demise, and the burning, flickering flames that would reveal his presence to the men. Slowing down ever-so-slightly, the man's right hand would extend in a pattern trademarked centuries ago before three dark flitters of a shadow raced through the night air in silence before expanding and liquidizing in a spray of blood that extinguished the torches with a sharp sizzle. In the milling shouts and confusion that followed, the man would strike. Finally, his true speed would reveal itself as he seemingly materialized before his first target. The blade, a sanguine shadow, sliced through the night air to bury itself deep into the first Shinobi's throat before he could release even the smallest of warnings. Even so, the rogue shinobi would twist in a spray of sand before flinging himself at his second target, spikes of bone extended from the wrists to embed into the falling Shinobi's skull time and time again. Now if only that shit-head would take care of something.
It was truly thrilling to watch the raven-haired man kick off this night of atrocious annihilation! Preforming a quick shunshin to match speeds, the male would be allowed to put down the third guard before the iron door. Materializing before the enemy ninja with a wide-eyed pupil, that of a fully matured and crimson hued iride! Obviously the fool would attempt to stare down the seemingly free floating man, a horror endowed Genjutsu causing the man to lose conscious the instant his eyes met the fabled eye. A Kunai slipping down the right sleeve and into his hand, arcing to slice the victim’s trachea and jugular artery, but the imperative kill wasn't finished yet! Splashing blood from the swipe would splatter across the iron door, while the man spun his instrument of death around to come down like overkill through the already deceased man's skull, still falling. The cloaked man would have to prove he was capable of assassination, through and through with no regrets, no hesitation. That's how he would survive this night, kill as many as possible in this sort of demented race. "I got this bunker! Go to the next!" He would smoothly say to his partner, as he moved to jerk the handle of the first iron bastille that housed the many of civilians in the city. Two hands produced many kata as the second killer tossed his blade down for a moment before he glanced inside with his blood red eye.... a deep breath issued before mass murder was commited. "Katon: Goka Messhitsu!" Blood curdling screams from innocent people marked the end of peace in the shinobi world. A large stream of inferno flames rushed into the enclosed cave, a maelstrom of death and destruction as bodies where turned to ash in a matter of seconds once the high-leveled jutsu poured into the barn of people with nowhere to flee! They would all perish! Explosions and heat literally cooked men, women, and children to ash once the iron door was shut only seconds after it was open, leaving them to cook and melt in despair of the night. So far, he had no remorse.
Finishing his assault on his own target, the remnants of the shinobi's skull now no more than perforated mush, the man would rise slowly to his feet and dust the sand from his body. Turning languidly towards the slave that he had been dragging along for years now, he would watch the brutality that was instilled within him and he felt a lone tear fall from his argent eye. Truly, that seed had blossomed into a beautiful flower. With a soft chuckle at the way his toy had cleared the bunker, he would begin to stride calmly to the next. Along the way, he plotted and figured how exactly he would clear the room. Roasting them sounded fun, but oh-so-cliqued. Drowning them? There was no visceral element to it! What was the man to do? Then, he saw his answer. It was messy, bloody, and just how he liked it. Coming to a stop before the iron door, he would knock loudly upon the metal with a hollered "Shift change!" ,his voice an octave off from his normal tone. As he heard the milling confusion, he would begin to chuckle to himself as he imagined the fun to be had. Slowly, the door began to swing open inch by inch, giving the man time to reveal a gory and well-used nail file that soon found its way into the eye-socket of the confused guard. With a cackle, the man would scream "SURPRISE!" before pushing past the filthy corpse and removing the nail file with a sickening slurp. As he pushed his way in and slammed the door shut easily, he would place his hands over the hinges, using his own chakra to melt the door shut before starting forward into the middle of the crowd. His arm whips back and forth into flesh at a frantic pace, but this was far from killing blows. Finally, he would come to a stop within the middle of the bunker, shocked and terrified faces all around him. Ah, this was the perfect moment. Curling into himself for a moment, he could hear the shinobi closing in on him as blades began to find their way into his flesh. It was but a minor annoyance, and far less effective than what he had in mind. With a cackling scream that preceded his arms flying out from his body, large blades of crimson would begin to burst from his body to tear into the useless trash all around him with brutal quickness. Combatant and innocent alike felt the wicked judgement of his blades, and as he felt life-force after life-force fade from existence, he would feel a joy like he never knew. Oh, those screams of terror and pain were so magnificent! To see piles of meat where people once resided... that was intoxicating! Finally, the man's assault would end as he began to pull the attacker's weapons from his body, his healing abilities taking care of the injuries with ease as he made his way towards the entrance. Once there, he would find one of the filthy beggars clinging to life, arms and legs long gone, but he was persistent. With a chuckle and a sharp kick that pushed open the Iron Gate, the man would drag the almost-corpse from the bunker and drop him onto the sand. "Hey, shithead! I gotta live one! Get me some information before he dies!"
 This was beginning to be bloody fun! Even if he was provoking the undivided attention of the rouge Capital, and possibly the entire shinobi world! For this day would go down in Kami-be-damned infamy! Dropping the blood spattered hood of the stealth black cloak, whilst turning to hear his partners retort. I can get you a live one... A quick action planned being rebirthed in his now blackened mind, ready to act! It seemed like fate, or irony, possibly some sort of twisted satire that once his body pivoted around to begin his search, a person who he assumed was one of the Taicho's to the now dispatched Rouge Shinobi higher-ups. No biggy, he was alone and now he was to die! The mask clad sand ninja rushed towards him with a simple punch probably aimed for his face! But he didn't notice the distinct specialization in genjutsu that the killer had, as he came from the right side. Multiple cawks and chirps ensued as the infiltrator burst into a murder of crows, the rouge shinobi stunned and dazed in a blinding swarm of birds, multiple flashes of light and high pitched screams erupted in his mind. Silly idiot fell into a Genjutsu once he did notice the man's Kekkei Genkai; but it was too late! Before the Taicho knew what was going on, his face was being slammed against the now red hot iron door. The red eyed wonder would hold the man there until his face was nice medium-well! Spinning him around only to stare the man down again and place him into a realm of torture and demise in lue of a second Genjutsu once he got tired of hearing the man cry and beg for life. It would be easy for him to divulge any and all intelligence about the whereabouts of the leader and other vital, classified knowledge about the Rouge Capital. What would be only a few seconds would feel like a lifetime of hell for the man, but he was no longer any use to him, so he was to be dispatched immediately! A solid uppercut was delivered to the rouge shinobi, sending him off his feet and into the air! But not before the man grasped what was left of the bastards charred and ashy face, ripping him downward from the hellish night sky and forcing his skull down onto the iron handle of the now crematorium door. Effectively shattering the man’s head and ending his life rather brutally, but he had learned from the best! Now he had the info he yearned for, and he walked over to grab his blade, awaiting his partner’s next move. "No need! I got something better over here!"
Ah, finally the floating shit of a slave was becoming useful! Watching the actions of the boy with mild amusement, the tall figure would shrug and drop the sobbing torso with almost contempt. Raising his foot slowly, he would be sure the dying creature saw every action until finally, his boot falls upon the skull with sudden force. Ah, it always reminded the warrior of the time he crushed cantaloupe in his youth. Removing his foot with a sickening slurp, the male would simply wipe the sole of his boot across the sand before leisurely strolling towards his pet. "What did you find? Please tell me there are fun times to be had and bitches to tear apart..."
Wow! Processing the goldmine of knowledge would take some time for the Koro, even though he had maliciously tortured the Rouge Ninja higher up with some of the most ruthless and barbaric methods ever devised! Genjutsu was damn fun; and it proved a difference between playing games, and playing mind games. The former is an act of joy, the latter — an act, and a very tricky one - a devious illusion being reality's coy lover who changes when reality is grim. Illusion is cunning to the wisdom of ages, weet oblivion to untapped knowledge. A skilled Genjutsu user, or in this case, a near-master was deft to all practical uses with the unknown Kekkei Genkai, an instrument of immeasurable uses to the man. Anything from simple intelligence, brutal interrogation, and even all the way fate deciding jutsu were bundled into the terrifying pure black realm of the powerful doujutsu, though nobody in the rouge capital tonight would live to tell what they saw inside that hellish glare. "We need to move, now!" Faintly mumbled and skittish words rolled off the bloody lips of a materializing Koro in front of his partner. A shunshin prepped with a one handed kata, an urgent sense of clamant rush overcoming the man. "The leader isn't in the village, he's already departed for the Land of Iron. If we hurry, we can catch him."
 Annoyance. This was the first emotion to materialize on the man's face. To think he had come all of this way to meet with his old pal and watch the lifeblood drip from his body until he retrieved the one-tails, and his host wasn't even man enough to meet him. Manicured nails find a pale scalp amidst a tangle of sanguine as his mind wandered. Wasn't that where those little bitches got together and compared dick sizes before circle-jerking? Or was that Wednesday night at one of the brothels? To be honest, he could care less. All he knew was that there was shit on his boots and a thirst in his soul. He would find this Shit-leader.... and he would take from them what he wished. Turning to the useless drop of donkey sperm that he commanded, he would simply reply. "Get to running, bitch!" With those final words, the figure took off in a spray of dust. A shadow in the night as he faded into the darkness.
Going to intrude at the Kage’s Summit? This was going to be the tipping point of some crazy spiral for the Koro, but after years with a true killer, he honestly should've seen this coming. This curse of hatred he bore though would send him into dark depths anyway, only time could tell when that point was though... but there came a distinct point where every man must decide whether he will walk in the light of creative altruism or in the darkness of destructive selfishness. Sometimes he wanted to see a change for the better, but he'd have to take things into his own hands now. Frantically blinking his now deactivated dojutsu pupils, his partner would've already been long gone in the bloody night. It was time to leave before anything else major happened, and with that, the other half of the dynamic duo shunshined out to catch up his partner. Not a peep left behind, nobody had been alerted beyond reasonable concern, and it seemed like they had almost pulled off the impossible even if the leader wasn't home.
Unbeknownst to the two attackers, they had been accompanied the entire time. What had been an occasional glimmer or flash of light was something else entirely. They were being watched by a familiar presence. His intangibility was only temporary. Flashes of light and a flickering of being were fine for now. This was not his reality after all. He knew what needed to happen, though, and these were the people that would reveal the plan in time. With another not-so-subtle flash of light in the periphery of the two killers, he transfers his consciousness once more. There was a summit in the Land of Iron that needed attending.

Day Four: Lost in Reality
But Nikuyo would never find him. He had been led away from the Land of Iron. Only then had Nikuya realized it! He had been fucking had! Oh those blood sacks were in for it now. He would suck them dry, and then use their blood to sweker each of their broken families, wherever he could find them, and he would find them. There was no hiding from Nikuyo, the BLOOD PRINCE! His blood thirst had been satisfied for today, however, for that red samurai smoothie was more than enough to fill his tummy, but for how long? How long could he hold out until he had to have his next meal? Only his lords knew, and when the time came that he had brought them enough fame and respect to be known, once again, as the one true race that dwells in the dark, the blood thirsty man-beasts that wake in the night to fulfill all of their carnal desires, then and only then would he face them again. For until then, he had nothing left to offer. He was not truly a god. He was not truly a vampire, not yet at least, and he did not want to be a pitiful shinobi. But that was only temporary. The inconsiderate gods who sat high upon over-exaggerated thrones would one day fall to their knees before him, Nikuyo Capulet, the Murderous Blood Prince! Today, as his head fell from the clouds, and back into reality, he could only look upon the very forest that he stood within, the forest where he played pretend. This place was where he tested his strengths, and learned fear nothing, except for his own fate. If the world had no known it already, Nikuyo would become something to fear. He knew that they all could feel it, the inevitable, inconceivable, impending doom.
Day Four: A firm Grip on Reality
As the sun light's light grew scarce, the forest began to darken. Long shadows stretched along the floor, one of which rose to cover the lower half of the young Capulet’s lithe frame. Nikuyo’s ominous grin stretched across his countenance. His smile was not welcoming, at least not to any unlucky passer-byers, for the ends of the foreigners grin were so perfectly sharpened and the smile stretched from ear to ear with such a malicious aura that the heartbeat of any who saw it would surpass dangerous level before being inclined to stop. Perhaps the visage was nothing more than a trick of the mind, a result of the darkness that cast shadow here and there to give everything a malevolent ambiance. The Capulet's appearance also grew more sinister as night fell upon the forest. The darkened skies would shed not a ray of light without a source, but just as the day had, the night had it's own. The moon never allowed the darkness to spread too far within those walls, and illuminated the village's interior to the best of its ability: making the unpaved roads barely visible enough to view with the naked eye; striking the upper body of Nikuya so perfectly for all strangers to see, and doing the same for Nikuyo would stood atop  small pond; shining down upon the treetops of forest to guide the ones who dwell in a world of darkness, the shinobi, yet casting the darkest of shadows in areas unreachable such as Nikuyo's face, an area that grew less and less visible as it hid behind the shadows of those long threads of hair.
Those white shades fell upon rose red irides to engulf Nikuyo's entire world in darkness, hiding the visage of the creepy stranger oh-so effectively. To reply to the inevitable growling of his tamable, insatiable stomach, Nikuyo would have to be the first to give insight to the world he lived in, yet that was not in Nikuyo's intentions. Not at all, for his stomach did not rule him. Pink lips parted to whisper in response as the night raised volume of all sounds.
“I’m alone… and hungry.”
Those blood shot red irides rested in a central position within Nikuyo's eye sockets, yet he saw nothing from behind those white eyelids, even as the shadowy tentacles reached for his body. Upon hearing the foreigner speak, Nikuyo realized that the male had completely misunderstood the lad's position. A male, small in stature, yet strangely cheeky made a pass beneath the very tree Nikuyo had perched himself within. 
“I’m… so hungry…” 


“Is there someone there?”
Nikuyo thought as the man continued. Only after the man’s ear perked up, and the male began to slowly tilt his head skyward, turning to face Nikuyo simultaneously, did Nikuyo’s eyes slowly open. However, Nikuyo said nothing in response. He simply looked to the man with an express in his eyes lacking in feeling or emotion, but that smile never once hinted towards anything positive, for even as the rest of Nikuyo's body was engulfed in the dark. As he leaves shifted high above, the man saw only the mouth of the man... No… he saw the boy’s fingernails! Long, sharp claws! The Teeth! Sharp, dangerous Fangs! His eyes. Crimson lids spread further and further until his eyes were wide open, and he stared down upon his prey, licking his lips once and only once.
"…”
Nikuyo nodded as he eyed, no looked, No gazed, NO! Nikuyo’s eyes traced the males frame anxiously, as his tongue traced his lips slowly in the same fashion. He could already taste it… The leaves, the grass, the trees, all seemed to vanish from existence as the two males stood with their focus fully directed at one another. All had been engulfed by the inexplicable element of life and death, the Darkness, an endless pool of black that would soon lead to a succulent puddle of red. At any given moment the man or the boy could have made a move, but they did not, leaving the other unable to discern what the other was thinking. Tension, something Nikuyo had never felt before, had long ago filled the air, causing those crimson eyes to dilate. For the very first time, in the presence of silence, Nikuyo had heard the sound of himself breathing. His lower lip hung effortlessly as he looked upon the man with wide eyes. Was he... nervous? No, it couldn't be. His body temperature rose to excessive heights against his own will as a spontaneous flow of blood caused his heart to beat with a tempo uncalled for. Nikuyo could smell… the foreigner’s blood, and it smelled delicious. There was something else in the air, something that Nikuyo hadn’t even known that he could sense yet. It was fear. Not resonating from himself, but from the man beneath him. Falling under the spell of the foreigner, Nikuyo’s sharp teeth began to extend from his gums, though only slightly.
Nikuyo turned to look skyward once again. He had not noticed that no longer had the sun reigned. Time was up, and the darkness had made a push to take over the earth. Now that the darkness had settled within Nikuyo’s domain, and deemed the period night, the villagers had fled to their homes to rest their tired little head. They were completely ignorant to what exactly was going on outside their homes within the dark. Lives were taken and childhoods were destroyed in the dark of night, yet there was one species of the human race that found peace in the dark, shinobi, a well-known fact. A second species of the human race had joined the Shinobi in the night. This second species had not been given the same credit. The second species, most commonly known as the blood suckers of the night, the Lord of the Night, who could be neither stopped, nor slowed by words or physical force were born with a curse, a label. They had not chosen this fate. It was simply the way they were, and there were somethings they would do unwillingly when the night toke over. For it was during the night that the scent of living, human delicacies reached their noses. It was during the night that they were truly alive. It was a time when power and strength overflowed from their bodies. It was something out of their control. But, who were they? What were they? They were blood sucking vampires. They were… They are, The Kyuketsuki.
When nightfall came the average human being hid within the confines of their home, fearing that outside was far too dangerous, but shinobi relish in the darkness. They feared not, for one fears what they do not know. One could never tell when a True Shinobi was present because their figures blended perfectly with the dark, but little did the shinobi of this world know, the darkness was not their domain… The darkness belongs to the Kyuketsuki. Nikuyo had been resting all day, and it was time that he truly awakened from his slumber.
Nikuyo placed both his hands on the window seal as he toke in his first breath of fresh air. It was far too easy to breath, for Nikuyo had grown accustom to the air of higher elevation. Nikuyo fearlessly tilted his head, and looked down at the ground below. The ground was so far...
It was a rush that Nikuyo could not, would not ever forget. The cool air that kissed his skin had no effect this time, unlike the rest. He gazed upon the village, believing that, one day, it would all be his. He kicked off of the window seal allowing his body to feel that familiar sensation of free falling. In this state of motion, Nikuyo would enter a different state of mind if he had not already done so. As a shinobi, he craved the adrenaline. He trained, and fought for the thrill, yet, for one reason or another, as his body continued to fall faster and faster, increasing the chance of death if he ever made contact with the ground.
Nikuyo shut his eyes as the wind tore away at those useful orbs f visual insight, and, though he was barely able to see because of the wind that attempted to tear away at his eyes, he managed to make out the sound of a man screaming? Perhaps, it was a woman, he thought, because the only man that would’ve allowed himself to release such a squeal would be a man that openly admitted he was a pussy. Nikuyo listened, and, upon opening his eyes, his entire perspective had changed. Nikuyo could not see in the dark. The moonlight made its best attempt to pierce the forest’s canopy to no avail, and it provided Nikuyo no visual insight. But Kenzo could smell the man, and he could hear the man even clearer. Probing deeper, Kenzo focused his vision to view the man that was...
"Food!"
He screamed just before he came within 5 meters of the hard ground. The impact would've meant certain death for any who lacked the structure and tone of Nikuyo's body. Wind howls around sensitive ears as the Capulet descends through the darkness, his laughter echoing throughout the forest as snow white strands flutter around his head. Soon, however, he finds his boots striking rough stone as he reaches the floor beneath. The shock of his sudden landing forces a tremor of force up from his heels to his knees and beyond as he rolls to lessen the damage in the all-encompassing darkness. As his roll ends, he finds himself crouched on one knee, a single palm resting on the porous and misshapen stone and brittle grass beneath. A thick coating of what could be no less than dust covers his hand and rises in a cloud around him, tickling the inside of his nostrils.
It had been so long since Nikuyo had been allowed to let loose, for his recent meals only included animals that had little to no means of defending themselves. The animals of the wild could not satisfy the urges of the young Capulet, for he had long ago memorized the taste of every single one of them. None of them could satisfy him fully however. Now, Nikuyo had found a man, a man who Nikuyo knew could satisfy him need. The circumstances were dire, for it was time that Nikuyo released all of that pent up anxiety. Naturally, the dust that surrounded Nikuyo's figure grew thinner, and Nikuyo slowly rose to a full stand. Though his torso and lower body were still hidden by the dust cloud, due to his small size, Nikuyo's upper body rose into vision. Nikuyo was trembling, and his eyes were open wide. His quaking stemmed not from fear, nor was he nervous. Nikuyo was trembling with excitement.
True, he was a maniac, and though he hid this well, he could hide it no more. Who wouldn’t go crazy when THEY HAD TO SUCK THE LIFE OUT OF ANY POSSIBLE FRIENDS THEY COULD MEET? Not until his urge had been satisfied, not until the supple flesh of another human being had been cooked thoroughly.  At the moment he had one goal, and one goal only, to drink the man’s succulent blood.
On this sad, sad night, the darkness had made it evident that it was no one’s friend, more specifically, it was not Nikuyo's friend, for as the man began his hasty approach away from the position of the young Kyuketsuki, the darkness clouded Nikuyo’s vision as his eyes had not yet completely dilated. Only after the man had already disappeared into the darkness Nikuyo's vision fully been brought to focus, but by this time... It was already too late.
He's fast.
It seemed, as that dust faded around Nikuyo’s exposed chest, that all hope had been lost, for as he moved forward, he could see nothing. The dust cloud parted as Nikuyo moved, leaving a clear path along the ground in his wake, however, it seemed that his sprint would never end for his body had not slowed even the slightest bit. Before Nikuya could do anything, he smashed into, and through the wooden tree. The hard yet brittle solid that the tree could have been compared to was glass, for upon impact the wood did something that only glass was once thought capable of doing. It shattered.


More dust lifted into the air to conceal Nikuyo’s impact point, and small splinters flew left and right as the tree fell. The dust slowly dissipated, revealing nothing, if anyone was still watching. Through the dirt and dust, a black humanoid silhouette around 5 feet tall could be seen slowly starting to it’s feet. This was Nikuyo. He rose to his feet, and began a hasty sprint in the direction of the fleeing man. He lacked a scar, scab, or any broken bones. One would never know unless they found out for themselves. 
"I’m soo fucking hungry..."
Nikuya would say lowly as he toke his first step out of the massive hole. From such a distance, there was no way for the man to hear him, but that didn't matter. Nikuyo wasn't trying to hold a conversation anyway. For the first time in a long time, a prey had actually put up a chase. Nikuyo wanted more, more destruction, more pain, more fighting. This was his calling!
A short string of breaths were taken before Nikuyo began sprinting in the man's direction. His footsteps were light and fast, but still nowhere near the man's speed. In his mind, the words DRINK and BLOOD echoed within. At that moment, his movements seemed to blur with a new found speed. All of his senses we’re about him, and every obstruction that the wind touched, Nikuyo was alerted of how near or far ever object in his immediate vicinity was, and maneuvered around it in an instant. He would close the distance in a second or so. When Nikuyo reached the fleeing man, his right hand would already be extended, and, upon getting within arms distance, sharp nails would pierce the man’s back. 
What exactly had pushed Nikuyo to this point? When did the pain become pleasure? When did war become a game? When did the thought of beating, gagging, and hanging another human being alive before ripping them open and allowing their blood to drip into a small pail ever induce a state of euphoria upon the small boy. Causing injury to the other male that managed to disturb Nikuyo's sanity was the only goal for the small child. This was not revenge, for the stranger had never wronged his unjust, unfair predator; they had met today not long ago at all. 
Then again, had anyone ever truly wronged Nikuyo? Had the people of Chigakure, a village Nikuyo had once belonged to long ago, ever harmed Nikuyoo in anyway before he began to murder the innocent children of the village one by one? Had Nikuyo’s first crush, whom he had never confessed to, ever said anything to him before he began to dream of sucking her sanguine juices from her throat while she choked on her own blood? No. Not a single one of them had ever threatened his life in any way, yet he, one more than one occasion, dreamed of introducing them hell in his own image. Perhaps it was when he had accepted the Lords as his own that Nikuyo's state of mind changed. No… If Nikuyo had actually changed… If he had been different at his time of birth, then his mother would still be her right now. He hadn't become this way after rigorous training. He had not been changed by his mother, father or lords, nor had he transformed into a monster sometime after he was sent off to live in this cold world alone... Nikuyo had always been like this. He had been taking pleasure in the pain of others since the day he was born, and he knew exactly the way he liked it. He loved playing with his food. The mice that ran were far more interesting than those that had simply given up on life.
A smile, one that could not have been described as anything except malicious, stretched savagely across Nikuyo's face as his nails dug into the man’s flesh, and he fell to the ground. However, that smile disappeared when Nikuyo’s own footing had been torn from beneath him by a fallen branch. The man had only tumbled a measly three meters when Nikuyo attacked, yet Nikuyo had landed face first, skidding across the floor upon his face before finally flipping over the prey, and into a strong, brown tree trunk. In comparison, the results of Nikuyo's attack were smaller. This was not the first disappointment that the young Blood Prince had during the duration of this chase. He had only managed to embarrass himself by tumbling painfully into the plant-life, an event which might have proved to be decisive. Luckily, Nikuyo had not fallen to the first blow, and now that he could gauge the speed of the one known as the prey, Nikuyo knew how fast to move to react, or so he thought. 
An unsuspected black silhouette stood over Nikuyo’s frame, and before Nikuyo’s sensed could return to him completely, the male lifted his knee up to his chest (Kenzo's eyes widened at the site of this.), and proceeded to stomp the Kyuketsuki’s face into the ground.
How did he-
The thought itself was interrupted rudely by the sole of the man’s shoes, and an ocean of insults and swears spat from the lips of the man like venom. The man stopped, only after Nikuyo had been beaten to a stupor. His nose was broken. His arm was broken. His mind and body… broken. The man walked away.  That word... That word was...
"Pussy…"
Nikuyo replied with a single question. One that expressed fully his confusion and disbelief as the man lifted a large, sharp, thick branch. It was the very branch Nikuyo had trip upon. For fucks sake!
"K-K- kneel?"
Just as the words let Nikuyo's lips, a sharp pain met Nikuyo's shoulder blade. The man had brought both arms down with the stake, and Nikuyo released a blood curdling bellow that would have forced sympathy into the heart of any woman. He had been beat to the ground, and laid there motionless with his arms extended lifelessly upon the forest floor. The difference between their powers was too great, for Nikuyo could not, even for a second, keep up with the man… no… he was no longer a man. He was… a killer, a savage. Barely managing to track the man’s in the dark movements was not enough. Landing a single, lucky blow upon the savage's frame was single not enough. Unable to get what he wanted, Nikuyo did the opposite of what any child would do.
From the inner corners of those bloodshot red eyes came moisture. The moisture only grew as the seconds past, then, when those eyes could no longer hold back the salty liquid, tears ran down Nikuyo's cheeks. Shutting his eyes, Nikuyo allowed the salt water to stream to the dirt that Nikuyo's face rested upon. Before even Nikuyo could react, those mixed emotions which settled within Nikuyo's heart as the sound of the savage of a man's laughter registered within Nikuyo's mind, swirled around within his very soul before surfacing. Rage was a power that could not be controlled nor stopped, only satisfied. However, the only thing that would satisfy Nikuyo's rage was this killer's pain, here and now. Nikuyo needed to see it, and this needed to feel it. At the very moment, Nikuyo could hear a beating deep within his frame. THUMP THUMP That beating pushed Kenzo to rise, for he was not dead yet. Kenzo's bent his elbows, flattening his palms upon the ground as the beating within his chest pushed him to stand. And, as he rose to a stand, Kenzo opened those bloodshot eyes to reveal to the world his scarlet pupils, which had been brought to the battle unconsciously in the face of Nikuyo's anguish! That beating within Nikuyo’s chest meant he was still alive! As long as he was still alive, as long as there were more bitches to fuck, as long as there were still men far to dickless for situations where they need to be courageous that lived in this world… Nikuyo would not die.
"Hahaha! You sick fuck!"
As the small male rose to a stand with his newfound strength active, he curled the small fingers of his right hand into a tight ball with his small bicep muscles flex in preparation to send that fist straight for the savages's chin with enough force to detach the male from the ground, and send him skyward. It connected, sending the savage only a few meter out of Nikuyo's reach. That punch was only the beginning of the males end. Now, Nikuyo knew he didn't have to hold back, for this asshole had more dirt on him than Nikuyo expected. In fact, a fucker this dirty didn’t deserve life. They didn't even deserve death, but he should’ve considered himself lucky. Nikuyo was going to rip this asshole wide open! Now, Nikuyo knew this man was the one who would push him over the edge. Now, Nikuyo was to fight without holding back, even as the tears fell from his cheeks. Oh, but they were not tears of sadness or despair! No! Nikuyo was more than happy. In fact, he was overjoyed that he would finally taste real, human blood.
THUMP THUMP
The beating within Nikuyo's heart grew stronger as a number of villagers slept through the battle that was happening just outside their village. They peered through cracked doorways and glass windows to gaze upon the night sky in which a black silhouette floated. What they didn’t see, what Nikuyo saw was petrifying. The man, the savage, who was gradually gaining elevation with the night sky began to sprout a number of extra appendages. His new monstrous appearance only served to make his everlasting smile appear more menacing. Still, Nikuyo had no fear. How could he be afraid? He was a part of the greatest race that ever lived!!!
THUMP THUMP
I don't have to hold back anymore. I can feed…
THUMP THUMP
Nikuyo's figure had been unnoticeable to the naked eyes of those animals who observed the battle between the boy and the beast from a distance. However, a sanguine spray of blood emanated from Nikuyo's body before he suddenly had a transformation of his own. His entire upper body began to spray a red, liquid shadow from within, and, without a shirt to hide the boy's power, his appearance was revealed. With every THUMP of that boy's Bloody Heart, a monstrous feature was revealed. Though it could not be seen as clear as day, all except the boy's head was covered in blood. Those tears that ran down his cheeks evaporated in an instant, and, even though he continued to cry, no tears fell. The entire world seemed to slow to Nikuyo, especially this moment. The moment he man had been knock skyward Nikuyo had every intention of taking advantage of this moment. Nikuyo smiled. He smiled. He really smiled! A vicious grin made obvious the boy's evil intentions, for his first plan of action was to catch the man, then Nikuyo would rip the unsuspecting male apart limb by limb. 
Upon seeing the two males go ballistic, those animals that watch from within the confines of the forest began to depart. Those eyes that peered through shrubs could look no longer, for the gruesome appearance of the two combatants was far too much to watch. Instead, trembling bodies gallops, ran, sprinted, swung away from the two, and families gathered to leave in hopes of avoiding any contact at all with either of the two males. The citizens already knew that this was no longer a battle between Shinobi. It was a battle between monsters. 
"FUCK!!!"
With that belligerent war-cry, the little monster ripped from his arm the very stake that the man intended to kill him with. Still, the sight of the little monster went unhindered by the darkness. The slightest bending of his knees signaled that the little monster's assault would begin shortly, but that time would come far faster than the multi-limbed savage thought. For as the little monster pushed off of the ground, it shattered beneath his feet, leaving a small, crater where he once stood as his body was sent barreling through the air in the man's direction at speeds he had never displayed before to anyone. To the average human, the movement would be impossible to track, but the savage would see, if he was even looking, Nikuyo's bloody figure, which was completely blurred by the speed at which he moved, flying straight for the savages's floating frame without even the slightest hint of hesitation. Even if he want to turn tail from this fucker, and run away… He couldn’t change his momentum mid-air. This night was to be one for the record books sadly no one would be around to witness such a dark battle. Yet there were mere animals still trying to watch what they could not understand, there was nothing about this quarrel that was normal. The smiles on each of the participants face were sadistic as they both wanted the taste of blood to enter their mouths. While the man floated his gaze shifted down his body to take in the boy’s whole visage, the boy was starting to bleed heavily which made the man question as Kenzo slced through the air… 
“What the fuck are you!?!”
Nikuyo's right fist was already cocked backwards as he flew towards the savage, and, upon reaching arm's distance between himself and the savage, Niyuko would fire his clenched hand forward with every intention of smashing into the man's face. If Nikuyo's attack where to connect, his face would have been shattered by Nikuyo’s powerful mid night touch. If the punch connected, the sheer force and strength of the punch would undoubtedly tear straight through the male's face, and Nikuyo would’ve proceeded with his free hand to rip the savage of a man into an innumerable different pieces. On one end would be the man's bloody chest and upper body, and on the other would be the savage’s bloody mid-section and lower body. Those pieces would be allowed to fall towards the ground below.
Nothing went as planned for the young Kyuketsuki, however… Nikuyo had felt far too alive. He could feel the power and adrenaline pumping through his veins. He was sure, even if this attack missed, he would still tear the man's soft frame asunder. Nikuyo was not given that chance this time, however. It was a miracle that all went as planned for the male who seemed damned not too long ago. Call it luck, but Nikuyo had actually missed his punch. The savage hadn't made a single move against Nikuyo, even though those enhanced senses blessed Nikuyo with the ability to react almost perfectly in the dark at the moment, he had nothing to react to. Nikuyo, in fact, could track all of the savage's movements clearly in the dark just as he could track killer’s movements in the day at the moment. Not only that, but Nikuyo's eyes were blessed with a strange gift. Nikuyo hadn't noticed this yet, as his vision seemed to be completely normal to him.
Finally, the man had made a movement against Nikuyo! Two, long arms extended with every intention of smashing into Nikuyo’s frame while two other arms raised in defense, hoping to stop any incoming attack Nikuyo might send their way. This was to no avail, for as the fists closed the distance between the savage’s body and Nikuyo’s, two serrated blades of crimson extended from Nikuyo’s flesh, slicing clean through the savage’s flesh. As those arms fell to the ground below, something expected happened. The crunch, snap, and crack of bone signified the collision of the two male’s frames, and it seemed that, at that very moment, both males had lost consciousness, though only for a moment. Their eyes opened wide as gravity began to take controlling, pulling them both towards the ground together in an endless falls through darkness. But neither of the males had given up yet! Each wanted to rip the other apart, and they both knew that only one of them would walk away from here… alive that is…
With the least grace that any human could possibly have, the two smashed into the earth, together. Dust settles within the air, obstructing the vision of any who attempted to seek out visual insight on what exactly was happening between the two males.  Spectators would see nothing, at least until the dust was given a chance to clear. Finally, the air began to clear as the dust fell. Words could not effectively describe what a spectator would see, and even less what Nikuyo felt. Pain surged throughout Nikuyo’s body, subsiding as that sanguine liquid ran down his cheek. Beneath him, the man turning corpse laid motionless, in shock, in pain. Nikuyo had pinned his remained arms to the ground, so that he was welcomed to feast upon the sanguine delicacy within the man’s neck. How long had Nikuyo remained top that man? Minutes, hours? None that matter to Nikuyo, for he was immersing himself in the pleasures of a sin no ordinary man could commit, murder through gluttony. The vivid taste of that succulent sanguine beverage fully satisfied all of his needs, all of them, and it seemed that the addictive flavor of the substance only made him crave such a taste even more. Was one man not enough? With a shiver and a tremble, Niyuko looked towards the sky, the arc of his back giving his the appearance of a woman riding a man. He was definitely not a woman, but the blood that entered his digestive system surely filled him with equal pleasure such as that of a female having an orgasm. This feeling Nikuyo loved. All he wanted was to get one more taste of the male’s supple flesh. But.. what was this? Nooo!!! The corpse had been allowed to lie dead upon the ground for far too long! His blood ran cold, and unlike humans, a young vampire did not like a cold drink. But still, Nikuyo want more. He wanted more blood, more death. Where could he find it? Where were those weak, humans hiding at this time? Nearest to him was the black market… Yes, he could find that god for nothing sacks of blood there! Oh! But that means he would have to make a public appearance! How many!?! How many sacks of blood would he take home with him? Two? Five? Seven? Of course, only time would tell.

[Exit/Close]
[WC: 17K]

Jesus Christ...

Claiming 

+85 Stats

1K Blood Release

3K Blood Release:Crow Claw
 
4K Pure Blood
 
2K Telepathy
 
4K Water Release: Water Beast

3K Art of the Raging Lion's Mane

No customs for the Genin sorry

Genin can learn 3 bloodline jutsu so he should be fine.

Approved