C-Rank: Crimson Crusaders!

Twilight was falling as Nietzsche’s brisk footsteps echoed down the alleyway. Earlier that day he had been assigned a mission to gather information on a religious group called the crimson crusaders. He had spent most of the afternoon bumming around town trying to find information, but to no avail. The best he had gotten that there the crimson crusaders were having a sermon today in a chapel in the slums of the mist villiage. So now that was where Nietzsche was bound. A chill was slipping thought the air; Nietzsche knew that supposedly the sect of religion had a god that “commanded” them to kill the innocent. Overall Nietzsche wasn’t a big believer in any religion, but he knew that a god telling one to kill seemed like a thin veil for cold blood murder.

Nietzsche was stirred from his thoughts as he neared the “chapel”. He planned to go in as a curious onlooker and try to blend with the religious fanatics. At the door of the ramshackle chapel stood a man robed in red. As Nietzsche approached the man tuned to him and kindly said “Welcome brother. Will you be joining us this evening?” Caught off guard by the man’s friendly demeanor Nietzsche quickly stuttered out” “Y-yes. Yes I am.” With that the man smiled and pushed open the heavy oaken door that led into the chapel.

As Nietzsche strode in bright blood colored banners lining the walls. In the main atrium stood a group of about fifty men and women all standing in front of what Nietzsche assumed was a priest. The priest was speaking to the congregation in some tongue Nietzsche did not know, but he did not care Nietzsche was here for information not a sermon. As Nietzsche neared the group one woman stepped forth and handed Nietzsche some red robes. She said: “Put these on or you will be thrown out of our most holy sanctuary.” Nietzsche quickly complied and donned the odd red cloak. He pulled the hood over his head and walked into the group of people.

Nietzsche could feel the chakra of those around him. Most had a fairly low level, but Nietzsche could feel one or two truly powerful people. One being the priest, which Nietzsche found very interesting. Overall the whole lot was not much to look at each of them seemed to be in their early thirty’s or so. It was then as Nietzsche was about to finish up his observations that he heard a screaming coming from the altar area. A young lady was dragged out and placed on the alter. The priest moved forward with a long sickle in his right hand. And raised it above the now screaming lady.

Nietzsche could not do anything; if he reacted he would be found out and all his observations would be for not. The golden sickle flashed in the torch light as it fell right into the chest of the lady. Blood spurted all over the priest and altar as the crying died down. Nietzsche was in shock-these crazy people really did kill the innocent and he could do nothing about it. The meeting was ending and the members were filing out of the chapel. Nietzsche followed suit and made his way out. He kept the red robes telling the woman who had given them to him that he planned on being a regular.

By now a crescent moon was high over the village hidden in the mist. It seemed to Nietzsche that the mist had just become more bloody. His mind was haunted by the ladies face who had been killed. Her face was one of complete ignorance and innocence; she probably had a family and a life, but like that it had been taken. Was that really fair? The lady did not ask to fight or be killed. She was just chosen and killed like an animal. Nietzsche was disgusted at what people would do to other; for what?-a God.

At this point Nietzsche noticed that he had been walking circles around a fountain. It was a simple fountain, but it brought peace to Nietzsche’s mind. Staring into the water for a couple of minutes Nietzsche finally made his way to the mission center to give his report. He planned to give fully detailed report right down to the color of the eyes of the sacrificed woman.

Nietzsche arrived and informed the night duty chunin of his harrowing in the chapel of he crimson crusaders. After which he left and headed for home. As he walked he felt the cool mist against his skin and sighed. Being a ninja was hard; it involved steeling ones feelings and consciousness to all forms of harm. Nietzsche passed by a house that had a tree of cherry blossoms blooming it was beautiful-it reminded Nietzsche of his mother and how she used to always bring him to see the cherry blossoms. Finally Nietzsche arrived home.

Pushing open the door Nietzsche kicked off his shoes. It had been a hard day and Nietzsche was not physically tired, but mentally and emotionally tired. Not bothering to make dinner he made his way towards his bedroom. He then slipped out of his clothes and settled into bed. His last thoughts were of the crimson crusaders and their barbaric practices. (886/850 words; C-rank done )