Chapter 2: Chained to Hell

 

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“Have you any last words?”

 

Like a snake had been dropped from the sky, the mob broke apart, everybody stumbling in different directions in their haste to get away from the red-haired woman who had suddenly appeared within their midst. That was only half the reason they ran and scrambled; the other half was attributed towards the katana she wielded in her right hand. It was a dull red with black inscriptions running the length of the blade and it ended in a slight point, the tip glistening under the flames their torches provided.

 

Kushina had left her disguise on top of the roof. That was a necessity. She didn’t want to be a mere shadow cutting them down. She wanted them see her, to feel her, to perceive without a shred of doubt who was about to fuck them up. Giving no thought to consequence, she knew that by allowing herself to be seen in such a fashion she had incurred the Hokage’s wrath—as something told her he was watching her every move through his special crystal ball—but she had decided a decade ago how this was going to play out. There was no stopping it now.

 

Her red hair, lengthened over time, flowed behind her like a waterfall. Her radiant skin was untouched and ivory despite years of fighting, sneaking, assassinating. But her eyes, it was those pools of piercing dread that struck an untold amount of fear within the mob around her.

 

“W-who are you?” asked one of the more spindly men, this one wielding a pitchfork in knobby hands.

 

Just the sight of it set fire within Kushina’s stomach though her face remained emotionless. It would do no good to lose herself before it even started, before the other members of her group were able to join in on the fun.

 

“As far as last words go, that would be considered a terrible waste. I have already said my name.” She lifted her blade, holding it vertically, the tip pointed down. “Oh damned souls, repent for your crimes as the chains of hell drag you into a fiery oblivion.”

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