Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ 'Do You Want to Live Forever?' ❯ The Hand of Justice ( Chapter 9 )

A/N: Thus enters the Villian... He's so bad, you gotta love him. WARNING: GRAPHIC GORE

Review Response at end of chapter

Chapter Nine

The Hand of Justice

The Moors of England

Saitou's Castle, outer grounds

Early Morning... 5:03 a.m.

Characters:

Hajime Saitou

Arturo Patronii

Shiiba

Jack

Ryan

Elliot Havashum

Polly

The whine of a katana singing through the cold crisp morning air was the only sound that broke through the wispy floating mists that clung to damp moors, and as the blade changed angle slicing upward, a flashing glint of blood red winked brilliantly along the perfect steel and then splattered soundlessly upon the moist green grasses. Silence came to reign in the world of the shimmering mists and then the ominous muted sound of something solid falling to the ground shattered the calm.

"Bloody useless fools," Once more, the high-pitched whine of the razor sharp katana sang through the shifting fogs and the sound of several more objects striking the ground was heard. "If you cannot be of value to me in this world of light and men, then you are of no value to me at all."

A shift in the morning breeze moved the layer of silver gray fog revealing a scene of carnage that was oft times common place in this particular part of the moors. Blood spattered the area and ran in thick rivers through the grasses as seven dead bodies lay crumpled in various poses of death each having fallen where they had died. Each body was the same in only one way, neither of them retained the head they had worn during the days of their living life. The decapitations had been swift and clean happening in the mere blinking of an eye. The heads being severed with such speed that the look of surprise was still frozen upon each face.

"Arturo," The bloodied blade was being wiped clean on the front of one of the dead men's white dress shirts. The hands that held it were speckled with bloody streaks and flecks that were also noticed traveling up the bare flesh of each sinuous forearm.

"Yes, My Lord."

"I want these bodies removed and disposed of before full sunrise, is that clear?"

"Of course, My Lord. It will be done." The smooth faced Italian bowed deeply at the waist as he acknowledged the order from his superior, and the subordinate tone of his accented English further bespoke of his deep loyalties to the man beside him. "Do you require any... souvenir's, My Lord?" It was a common question to ask, but there were times Arturo dreaded asking. There was no telling what the Master would want.

"Yes," The tall slim built man with Iron gray hair and liquid amber eyes stared with vicious malevolence at the bodies and heads of the seven men he had just slaughtered before turning to his human servant. "I want their teeth, Arturo. Bring me their teeth."

"As you wish, My Lord." Arturo bowed and silently thanked the Gods that these men's teeth were all the Master wished for this time. Too many was the time before that he had had to butcher a man's body in order to bring the bloody heart to the Master. Teeth were a simple task compared to that.

"And Arturo..."

"Yes, My Lord?"

"Bring Havashum to me as soon as he can be found." Hajime Saitou turned around and faced the thin handsome Italian as he grated his fangs together across his lower teeth in a display of cold anger. "I want to see him... immediately."

"It will be done, My Lord Saitou." Arturo felt a shiver of displaced fear race along his carefully attuned nerve endings as a vision of Elliot Havashum's fate flittered briefly before his minds eye. It was not a pleasant vision.

"See that it is." Arturo bowed once more as the powerful Vampire walked past him, the smell of blood and fury lingering about him like a heavy cape though he wore nothing more than a sleeveless gi and japanese hakama. It was simply the aura that followed him as he left the scene of his recent 'judgement' against those whom he felt had failed him.

'Blood Judgement'. It was swift, deadly, and merciless.

"Foolish men," Arturo looked dispassionately at the mounds of dead flesh that had once been men he knew and worked with. "Did you learn nothing from me? Did you not learn that no one, man or Vampire, can stand against the Master and win? It is a futile battle and you will always lose."

"I am sure they know that now, Senior Arturo." Arturo turned and gazed into the deceptively innocent face of his youngest companion, Shiiba. "They were fools, just as you say, and they were too weak to serve the Master. They deserved to die."

"Is that what you believe, my friend?" Arturo's dark brown eyes turned thoughtful and shrewd as he contemplated the younger man. "Do you presume to know who is fit to serve the Master, and who is not? Do you believe YOU are fit to serve, or will it be your head that rolls bloody upon the grasses the next time the Master's sword flies?" Shiiba's face jerked to the side as his large sea green eyes grew round with surprise and alarm if not fear at the mention of the possible loss of his own head.

"Do... do you know something, Senior? Am I... Am I..." The pale face grew more pale and the full almost girlish lips began to turn a sickly gray as fear seized hold of his heart. "Have I done something wrong?"

"No, you have not, Shiiba, but never over estimate your own value to the Master. Not even I feel completely safe and the Master relies more heavily upon me than anyone else." Arturo turned to the four men standing behind him who were silently waiting for his command, and he motioned for them to come forward and begin. "No one knows what the Master will consider a failure or a victory. None of us can hope to know his mind, we can only hope to serve the best we can and keep our heads in the process."

"H-how do we do that if nothing is ever certain?"

"Always be respectful, never voice your opinion, and wait for him to summon you. Never, never assume you have anything to say that he wants to hear." The wise words sank in deeply and the younger man slowly nodded his head in understanding. "Never balk at a request or an order no matter how difficult or disgusting it may sound, follow his lead and instructions to the letter, and always agree with him unless he asks you what you think... and above all, Shiiba, never turn your back to him."

"What do you mean?"

"The moment you show your back to the Master whether intentional or not, he will strike you through the heart and rip you to pieces." Shiiba's hand rose trembling to his chest where he clutched the fabric over his now thundering heart. "He views it as the deepest disrespect and will punish you for it despite your usefulness to him or not."

"He kills those who turn their back to him? Even if it's an accident?" Green eyes filled with frightened awe and the young man swallowed hard against the lump that rose in the back of his throat. "He just chops off your head... just like that... no warning... just 'whack' and you're dead?"

"No, Shiiba. I told you, he will strike you in the heart." Arturo put his hand on the younger mans shoulder and looked him hard in the eye. "He tears out your heart with his bare hand and eats it in front of your dying eyes."

"Shit..."

"Always remember."

"I will..." Arturo watched as his friend grew to a new level of understanding and respect for their powerful Lord and some of his finer points of view.

"Come now," He said as he turned to the rest of the men. "We have only a short time before full sunrise, and these bodies must be disposed of." Mumbles of assent and agreement were heard and numerous black body bags appeared ready to be filled with the bloody remains. "Bring me the heads and a pair of strong plyers," He instructed coldly. "The Master has requested the teeth be brought to him." Shiiba turned a questioning face to Arturo who said nothing but quietly accepted the plastic coveralls, rubber gloves, and safety goggles that were given to him. "Get to work, Shiiba. Time is against us."

The first head was given to him and closing his eyes, Arturo blocked out the fact that it was a familiar face he held in his hands, and then with a deep throated growl, he viciously tore the mandible free exposing both sets of teeth inside the bloody skull. They were easy to pull free as he jerked and tugged and broke bone as necessary. It took less than 20 minutes to remove them all. Then he dropped the small ivory colored teeth into a ziplock bag, labeled it, and started on the next head.

By the time the Sun rose in the Eastern Sky, seven ziplock bags held seven sets of bloodied teeth, and seven black body bags were being loaded onto an 'Ice Cream' truck that would take them to a secret location inside of the city where they would be incinerated thus destroying any evidence that those men had ever lived. They would simply become missing person's that would never be found. There was only one thing left to do.

Find Elliot Havashum.

Elliot lived on the better side of London in a large expensively furnished house with four floors. He employed over 30 servants including his own private chauffeur, a gardning staff that kept the massive grounds immaculately groomed, a kitchen staff to cook and fulfill his ever culinary whim, and a house-staff that was constantly cleaning the all but empty house that was filled with expensive foreign furniture.

Heavy Persian rugs dotted the immaculately waxed hard wood floors, intricate hand carved furniture with plush velvet cushions sat before fireplaces and large bay windows with heavy satin and damask curtains of blood red, forest green, royal blue, and rich purples.

Polished wooden and marble tables sat close to chairs and couches supporting vividly painted vases from Japan, Venice, and even India as well as carefully selected and purchased pieces of sculpture and blown glass. The walls were a veritable museum of fine art as painting after painting caught the morning light revealing names such as Van Gosh, Monax, Renoir, and many others that turned the house into a multi-million dollar tax shelter and any Insurance Companies nightmare. The security system cost over $100,000.00 alone.

Elliot had been in the service of The Black Diamond for almost eight years, and had been in charge of one of his more profitable import/export companies shipping valuable hand painted German glass over seas to the United States and bringing cocaine and Marijuana back. The highly profitable drugs were then dispersed to the Master's thousands of Dealer's across Europe and the Eastern Sea Board as well as to his distributers in Germany. It had been a profitable relationship that Saitou had established nearly 75 years ago, and Elliot had taken full advantage of the opportunity to become General Manager when the Master offered it to him.

Unfortunately, over the last few years he had begun to take advantage in more ways than just the generous salary he earned. Elliot began skimming from the top of the companies profits and padding his private bank accounts. Two years had passed since he had covertly opened his own 'sub-business' that coat-tailed along the edges of his employers company. He was secretly transporting his own drug cartel back and forth from Germany. The cocaine he obtained was substandard and often resulted in over-dose deaths and blood poisoning of the pitiful junkies that bought the tainted product. This fact did not bother him in the least, he continued to sell it under the guise of his employer's name at the same price as the much purer cocaine The Black Diamond was known for.

Eventually, that was how he had been found out. An unsatisfied customer bringing the sum of his remaining cocaine to the Master and demanding his money back because he had been sold tainted product. The Master had taken the cocaine and had it tested thus discovering that it contained more non-product than cocaine. He had become more than furious as he demanded from the Dealer whom he had purchased the product from and where.

In those following terrifying moments, Elliot Havashum's life became a less than valuable commodity. He became the first name on the Master's new 'Judgement List', it was followed by the names of his seven employee's and the edict was handed down to Arturo and his men that each and every one of them was to be found and brought before the Master. His judgement was swift.

Only Elliot remained.

This particular morning found the marked Company Manager in bed with his favorite house maid. The two of them had been up most of the night drinking, shooting up, and having sex. Now the hang-over that was pounding in his head felt like five 50lb. sledge hammers slamming into the bones of his skull, and as the sunshine began to peak through the crack of the curtains, he moaned and rolled over onto his stomach pulling his pillow over his aching head.

"Get the fuck away..." He mumbled as he waved an absent hand toward the offending light and then groaned as the pain in his temples intensified. 'I should never shoot heroin and coke together with Jack Daniels and Tequilla... it just don't mix. Uugggh!'

"Hey, baby..." The soft body of the woman lying next to him was suddenly being pressed against his nose and he inhaled the scent of her sweat, their sex, and the whiskey. "You want me to leave?" Her voice was slurred and muffled as it reached his ears through the padding of his pillow. "I really don't feel very good... can't I stay for just a while longer... Please?" He hated it when she whined, but at this point he didn't care if she stayed or left just so long as she stopped talking and moving.

"I wasn't telling you to leave, Polly. I was bitching at the friggin' sunlight."

"Oh, Okay... then you don't care if I stay?"

"No, I don't give a shit... just shut-up and stop rocking the bed." He listened to her mutter something about 'assholes' and 'hang-overs' as she rolled away, and then he was blissfully free of her and the smells she carried with her. "How can something so sweet and sexy one minute be so disgusting and nauseating the next?' Who knew... he didn't... and he didn't care.

Perhaps he should have. It may have been the last thing he had to care about for the rest of his pitiful life because the next moment the sheets and blankets were being roughly pulled off the bed exposing both nude bodies beneath.

Throwing the pillow off his pounding head, Elliot rolled over and grabbed for the 9mm he kept on the bedside table next to him. He never got that far. A giant fist came smashing down into his face and the world exploded into a burst of blue and red stars as the bones in his nose crunched and blood poured down into his open mouth.

Polly began to scream a high piercing cry of terror and hysteria as she tried to clamor her way off the bed, but one short vicious punch to the side of her head brought her to an abrupt halt. The tiny fragile bones of her temple and cheek gave way beneath the tremendous PSI of the blow and the ragged fragments were driven into the gelatin mass of her brain. She was dead before she dropped back onto the pillows, tiny trails of blood leaking out of her nose and left ear. Her wide doll-like blue eyes stared unseeing at the ceiling as the satiny cascade of her honey brown hair fluttered over the edge of the mattress to hang in a silky waterfall of golden curls.

"Did you have to kill her, Ryan? She was a beaut."

"Hey, I tried to hold back... didn't mean to crush her."

"Stupid hulking maggot. We coulda took her back to the Master... he mighta give her to us for a job well done... but now we got nothing but this fucking faggot to haul back."

"Sorry, Jack... I'll try to be more careful next time."

"Yeah, yeah... you and those big meat hooks you call hands. You never could hold a punch. You shoulda let me do her."

"Yeah, I guess I shoulda... sorry. I'll try to remember next time."

"Whatever, grab this bloke and let's get moving. Don't want to keep the Master waiting any longer than we have to because I don't know about you, Ryan ole' boy, but I'd like to keep me head another day." The big man called Ryan grabbed Elliot's limp form and wrapped him up in one of the sheets before throwing him over his broad shoulders. With one last longing glance over their shoulders at the body of the pretty Polly, the two men sauntered out of the dimly lit bedchamber and made their way back out of the plush mansion and to the old beat-up van they had come in. It would only take about an hour to drive back to the Castle, and they figured the bloke should stay unconscious at least that long.

So, with no worries they pulled the van out of the private driveway and turned onto the main road leading out of the city. Elliot Havashum's life was on a time meter and that time was ticking away.

'Where am I?' He struggled against the confining bonds that held him wrapped up like a mummy as pain and confusion erupted inside of his head. 'What is happening to me? Polly? Where are you? Where am I? What...' The splintered fragment of a memory flashed through his mind as he recalled the massive fist rifling down into his face and the crunching of the bones beneath its irrefutable force. Then there was nothing but darkness... darkness and pain. This god-awful pain that was throbbing inside of his head, his face, his entire body felt as if he had been beaten with a baseball bat.

Vaguely he heard the distant muttering of two voices and the humming purr of an automobile engine. 'I'm in a car... or a truck or something... what the fuck is going on? Just who the hell are these bozo'z and where the hell are they taking me?' Vainly he struggled against the sheet he was wrapped up in but found no purchase for his efforts. He was folded up like a fly in a spiders web, and he felt just as helpless. He couldn't see, he could hardly hear, and he couldn't move. A feeling of dread and doom began to grow and curl in the pit of Elliot's stomach as a reality check started to surface within the coke frazzle of his brain.

'The Master... their taking me to the Master... oh God, that's it, that's all it can be... oh God, oh sweet mother...' A whimper rose from his throat as fear congealed within his soul, and he wet himself. He was a dead man.

They threw him on the floor without any preamble what so ever, and a loud 'oof' was heard coming from the rolled sheet as it struck the black marble with enough force to shake the nearby table. Silence followed as the bundle rolled itself up into a terrified fetal position, and then the ominous faraway 'click-clock' of booted heels walking slowly and purposefully across the cold floor began to echo in the quiet. Tiny sobs of terror began to shake the bundle and the stench of urine filled the air.

"Disgusting." The single word brought forth a shivering cry from the mummified man on the floor as the tall lean Vampire walked around him. "At least your men were brave enough to face their demise silently and without showing fear... you are pathetic, Havashum. You and those like you are the reason I stopped 'siring' more of my kind. You are revolting to me." Saitou turned away from the shivering bundle and strode to a small dias that supported a large chair made of mahogany and black velvet cushions. "Unwrap him."

Ryan and Jack reached down and grabbed a hold of the edge of the soiled sheet and with one mighty pull, sent the whimpering sobbing Elliot sprawling across the black marble floor. His nakedness served only to further degrade his position of ill favor with the powerful Vampire who looked upon him with frozen amber eyes.

"Please, Master... I beg of you..." Elliot crouched before Saitou in complete submission as he tried to hide his body from the icy malevolent gaze. "Forgive me... forgive..."

"Forgive you?" A cold acidic laugh rolled out of Saitou's mouth showing the long milky white fangs that protruded threateningly from his upper pallet. "Do you even know why I have had you brought here, Elliot? Do you even know what crime you have committed... or are you simply begging for a life that is worthless and beneath my mercy just the same?"

"Please Master... I will do anything you ask of me... anything you say... I swear it, I will be your most loyal of subjects," The naked man scurried across the floor and began to kiss the toes of the Vampires black boots as he supplicated himself before him. "I will never be deceitful again... I will never steal from you again... I swear it on my blood, Master. I swear it..." A low feral growl oozed from Saitou's throat and he suddenly lunged down at the quivering man grabbing him by the throat and hauling him into the air leaving his feet to dangle uselessly above the ground.

"You would have the audacity to swear loyalty to me on your own worthless deceitful blood?" He snarled into the terrified man's face as it began to turn blue from lack of oxygen. "How dare you presume to insult me with such a paltry offering, as if you could placate me after the lies and deceit you have heaped at my feet. Did you really think you would be able to keep passing off that rat shit you've been selling as MY product without ever being found out? Did you think NO ONE would ever come to me and question its purity or lack there of? Were you so arrogantly blind that you believed you could play me for a fool and get away with it indefinitely because I made the poor judgement of trusting you in the first place? WERE YOU?" With a vicious curse, Saitou threw the naked man away from him casting him nearly twenty feet into the room where he crashed to the floor in a splattering heap of arms and legs and choked cries of pain and fear. "You are a fool if you ever believed you would succeed in keeping this from me for any longer than you have... how could you betray me this way, Elliot? Why would you want to? It was not as if I did not give you everything you wanted as it was... you had more money than you knew what to do with already...why did you have to have more? Or was it the feeling of power you craved not the money?" Amber eyes filled with icy anger and confusion looked across the space that separated them from a man they once called 'companion', and tried to understand what had happened to bring them to this end.

"I... I wanted to know how you felt... I wanted to feel the rush..." Elliot lifted his head and looked into the blank face of the Vampire who stood contemplating him, and he knew that he had just signed his own death certificate. But what the hell, he was dead already.

"The rush?" Saitou cocked his head to one side as a knowing look passed over his sharp wolfish features. "There is no rush in making money, Elliot. There is no rush in stealing from ones trusted companions. The only rush that exists in this world the one that you feel when the blood of another sprays across your hands and face, and you know that his life is yours." Elliot's eyes widened in terror as Saitou's eyes gleamed a bright golden flash and then flamed into bleeding red hot coals within his rapier face. "Now that, my old companion, is a rush."

Elliot screamed as the blur of gray, black, and glowing red flew at him with such tremendous speed that he hardly had time to register movement occurring. Then he was being thrown backward into a rock hard embrace that seemed to squeeze the very air from his lungs leaving him breathless and without a voice. The flash of gleaming red passed before his eyes and then pain blossomed in his throat as those magnificent daggers slashed through his flesh and tore into the vessels that carried his blood. Warm liquid splattered over his face and chest as the carotid artery was severed and the blood burst forth like a jerking fountain spilling his life onto the cold black marble as Saitou dropped him and stood up. Elliot's eyes were dimming quickly and his body was twitching and flopping like a fish on the banks of a stream as it gasped for air... 'I'm dying...'

The last thing he saw before his world went black was the Master laughing through a face stained crimson with his blood, and then licking it off of long tapering fingers as he walked away.

It was evening and the Sun was beginning to set. He had been unable to sleep all day, and the emotional exhaustion was wearing thin, but few would ever notice because he would never let them see any of his weaknesses. He could not afford to be weak.

The weak died. The strong lived, and he was the strongest.

His pale fingers played with the white note paper that had been delivered to him earlier that afternoon, the message it brought to him weighing heavily upon him as he pondered over what it meant to him and the legions of his kind.

My Lord Saitou,

I regret to inform you that Basil has been terminated. We do not know

how or exactly when, but he has never returned from his patrols in the

City Center, and no one has seen or heard from him for days. We can

only assume that he had met his demise at the hands of either a Pure

Blood, or some other unknown enemy.

I offer you my deepest condolences, I know how close the two of you were,

and it grieves me to have to be the one to tell you of his unfortunate end.

We can only hope that he passed from this world fighting, as I am sure he

did. It was his way. Unfortunately, this circumstance leaves us without a

military leader and soldier instructor. I am hoping you have someone in

mind who can fill his position as soon as possible. We are naked without

our Leader.

Please respond with all due speed. We fear the worst is yet to come as the

rumors of 'Cel's' release and evolution spread through the ranks, our peoples

moral wavers. We need a Leader.

With all due humility and respect,

Your dutiful servant,

Machavelia

'Basil... my old friend. How is it that you are finally gone from this world and I did not feel your passing?' Saitou bowed his head and lifted the note up once more to scan the contents before heaving a deep sigh and rising to his feet. 'Cel'... 'The Mighty Fang'... bah!' He cursed viciously in his mind as he walked toward the heavily curtained windows. 'You have risen to become a thorn in my side already... was it your hand that took Basil from me, or one of your fanatical followers?' Reaching out he grasped hold of the long silken rope and pulled. The curtains opened with one 'swoosh' revealing that the Sun had slipped behind the moors and dusk had settled across the land. The blazing pinks and fiery oranges of the sunset lit up the sky and proved to remind Saitou, not for the first time, of the brilliant pink stones of the Royal Palace and how they had run red with the blood of so many slain there. 'A day of providence... a day of power and glory... my day, and I will not let you take it from me, 'Fang of Pythagoras'. I earned the right to lead, I earned the right to wield the power of the Ancients... I will not give it up. Not without a fight, so if you want War, my foolish friend... then it is War you shall have.'

Saitou swung away from the large window and strode swiftly across the marble floor, the heavy 'click-clock' of his boots echoing loudly in the spacious room.

"Artruo!" He shouted as he entered the hallway and turned left heading for the stairs. "Arturo!"

"Yes, My Lord." The dark eyed Italian came running from somewhere at the other end of the long hallway and breathlessly followed his Master up the stairs as the tall Vampire took them two and three at a time.

"We are going to America, Arturo." Saitou spoke fiercely over his shoulder as they reached the top of the stairs and turned right. "I want you to make travel arrangements for the first night flight plan available, fuel up the jet, and get the men prepared. We leave as soon as everything is ready."

"It will be done, My Lord." Arturo continued to follow Saitou as the Vampire entered his office study. "What destination in the America do you wish to travel to, My Lord?"

Saitou stopped and paused as he considered where he should go. 'Do I want to be in New York right under 'The Fang's' nose, or do I want to be somewhere else where I can watch him? Hmmmmm....' Make plans for Philedelphia, Arturo. Have my real estate agent locate a suitable dwelling there and purchase it... you know what I mean when I say suitable."

"Of course, My Lord. It will be done."

"How long do you think all of this will take, Arturo?"

"Perhaps four, maybe five days, My Lord. Then all should be ready for a full departure."

"Acceptable." Saitou waved the Italian off with the elegant stroke of his hand, and then seated himself at his desk. Pulling out a piece of white letter paper, he began to write.

My Dear Machavelia,

Thank-you, my friend, for sending me the news of Basil's demise. I

am in your debt for I would have never known of his passing without

your words to tell me.

As for your request for another Military Leader, I have someone in

mind who will be an excellent replacement. He is an Ancient the same

as Basil and I. His name is Shishio, and his battle knowledge is unmatched.

I will locate him and send him to you as soon as possible. I expect

you and the others will maintain a modicum of readiness at all times

until he arrives. Becoming disheartened over the emergence of 'Cel'

Will not be tolerated. You are first and foremost soldiers, and you

will remember that.

As for myself, I will be relocating from England to an undisclosed site

in America. Once I am settled and have my perimeters secure, I will let

you know where I am, but until then, there will be no further communication.

War is brewing, my friend, and we must begin to make ready

ourselves. The dawning of a new age is upon us. The age of the

Made has come, and we must not fail.

Lord Saitou