OK, so here’s what happened.
It all started once I went to your apartment to take care of Jeane. I went through some of your messages to relay to you later—that reminds me, sorry about your cell phone—and I came across a call I found kinda scary.
She sounded angry, but regal, like a queen. Then I received a fax from someone whose initials were “TR”, saying that you were in over your head, along with where you were.
I knew I had to do something, so I bolted out the door, got my things together and sought out the only person I knew could help me…
Naomi drew her gloved hand across her nose, sniffing obnoxiously as she turned in her seat to face the dark girl in the darker dress behind her. “You want me to what now?”
Shinobu explained her situation up to this point, tastefully leaving out the Pinocchio porn and the perverted fangirl phone message. “And now,” she said as she came to a finish, “I’m going to need a way to reach that SHIT in outer space.”
Naomi shifted in her chair, her dark hair bobbing—as well as the breasts that made up, like, fifty percent of her body. Her eyes swept the machines and other equipment resting quietly in the corners of her cool, airy workshop, as if looking for something that could help. She sighed.
“Look, kid,” she said. “This isn’t my problem and I don’t have all day.”
“But isn’t Master a friend of yours?”
Naomi rolled her eyes, taking off her glasses while rubbing the bridge of her nose. “All I’m hearing outta you is ‘I’m broke’. And I don’t make friends with broke people.” She clapped her glasses back onto her face, turned in her chair, and returned her undivided attention to that arresting game of solitaire she was playing on her computer.
Getting her helped proved difficult. She wanted money—and lots of it. So I tried it your way, Master: odd job after odd job. I soon grew sick of pulling weeds and catching scorpions (especially catching scorpions, I mean seriously what the hell is up with that), and once again picked up my sword to look for some assassination work.
My first target was—
“How fucking long is this gonna take? Be honest.”
…W-What do you mean, Master?
“I mean, seriously, do we have time for this?”
…uh…
“It’s been like three fucking months since the author updated this thing, and it’s been more than a year since he started. On top of that, we’re only done with the first act. See, that one other story the author’s been working on has been suffering from the same problem and I don’t need that bullshit here. Just do us all a fucking favor and get to the point.”
…OK, fine, I get it, I get it.
To make a long story short, it took me a few days and the going was rough, but I killed a lot of people and got enough money to pay her off.
The silver suitcase was set onto the card table with a louder plunk than was necessary, the lock popping open on impact. Naomi felt like a pirate opening a chest of buried treasure: while there was no glint of gold coins or sparkling of diamonds, the collective stares of dead presidents was just as gratifying.
“Okay,” she said, reaching in and grabbing a stack. She ran her thumb over one end, going through the money with a fluttering noise. “All right, now we’re talking.”
She adjusted her glasses as she looked up at Shinobu, who was covered in bloodstains, held together with bandages, had a beartrap clamped in her hair, was soaked from head to toe, had a few knives sticking out her back, and scowled like the whole world hated her. Naomi coughed politely. “You, uh… You okay there, kid?”
Shinobu snorted.
“…You taunted them after every combo, didn’t you?”
“Couldn’t help it,” Shinobu said glumly. “It’s a reflex. How soon can you get me to the SHIT?”
“Well, I could do it this afternoon,” Naomi explained, dropping the stack back into the suitcase. “But honestly… don’t you think you need to see a doctor? Or take a break at least? You look like hell.”
Shinobu sneered. Naomi was never this considerate when she didn’t have money…
Naomi raised her hands defensively. “Hey yeah, I get it, none of my business. Mum’s the word.”
After that, I got access to a spaceship she’d been working on. It wasn’t anything too big—more like a big, flying clown nose than anything else, really—but it got me to the SHIT. Plus, it got Pandora radio, so there’s that.
Upon going through the SHIT, the spaceship malfunctioned. I mean, can you believe it? Forty million for that piece of junk!
The ringing in Shinobu’s ears only started fading after she climbed out of the wrecked remains of the spaceship. She made a mental note to file a legal complaint against Naomi… if she didn’t strangle her first.
Her legs wobbled as she stumbled out the spaceship’s door, her balance lost and her senses left dumb and hazy. When her feet left the ground, she expected to just tumble out, head over high heels, and look like a dork. Much to her surprise, she drifted over the ground, ghostlike.
Shinobu blinked as her senses finally decided to come back. She looked about, taking in all the blackness and the glittering stars and the dusty, white surface beneath her. An upward glance revealed a large planet, slowly turning—but it looked nothing like Earth.
“I’m on the moon!” she exclaimed. Of course, there was the little matter of being able to breathe, the insane amount of cold and pressure of outer space, but that’s junk I don’t care about, and frankly neither should you. Shinobu’s just that talented that she can not die in space just like Travis, okay?
Since the spaceship was totaled, Shinobu had no choice but to simply explore the moon. She whistled a tune as she did so, bounding across the moon’s surface with attempted steps that shot her across the ground. It was a while before she became used to soaring several feet.
The moon was like a cross between a tomb and a desert, mysterious and silent and lonely. The only real features of the moon besides the dusty ground were the craters of various sizes: some wide enough for Shinobu to hide in, some small enough that her foot was stuck once or twice, and some big enough to fit a whole baseball stadium.
As she got used more and more to the weak gravity, Shinobu began to get a little more adventurous, pirouetting and spinning as gracefully as a ballerina as she launched herself across the surface. The little girl she was never allowed to be struck several silly poses in midair—the Egyptian, the Superhero, the Thinker, and her personal favorite, Marilyn Monroe.
She landed with a demure thump, and stopped. Now was no time to have fun! Master was in trouble! Shinobu looked all about, now totally lost and still with no way to get off the moon.
There was something in the distance. Something that glittered and glowed.
I must have traveled all over the moon before I finally came into contact with the enemy’s base...
Shinobu analyzed it curiously, leaning forward as if it would give her binocular vision or something. To no one’s surprise but her own, it didn’t—so she did more moon-leaps towards the glowy thing until its form became more definite.
“…A castle?” Shinobu said aloud.
And yes, it was a castle, thanks for asking. Interestingly, it was a cross between the classic fairy tale castle and a mad scientist lair you’d see in some science fiction movie. The castle spires were topped with glass orbs that housed various artificial environments, making the whole shebang look like a garden of bizarre neon mushrooms and lollipops. Forked tongues of light flicked from its base, as if attempting to draw attention to itself.
Even more moon-leaps put Shinobu in the middle of a deep crater, where she sneaked forward bit by bit. Just ahead was the outer wall of the mysterious castle, and as she reached the edge of the crater, she carefully poked her head up.
Darkly-colored ponies wearing wickedly designed black armor strolled about on patrol, their yellow eyes glimmering against the blackness of space. Some fluttered above on bat wings, while others leaned over and investigated the ground below with light emanating from twisted horns.
A swath of light from one of those horns scanned the ground just in front of Shinobu. She dropped down and held fast against the wall of the crater, crushing her body down until the light passed her by.
Shinobu took deep breaths, planning her next move.
Obviously, if someone could build a castle on the moon and put guards in it, someone could have a spaceship or other means of getting off the moon. I wasn’t about to be left there for like a thousand years!
There were many guards. Normally I wouldn’t be too concerned—after all, killing’s something you and I are good at—but these guys weren’t anything like I’d faced before. Horns that emit light and God knows what else? Flying around like bats? Fangs? And they had me beat in sheer numbers, too.
This was a situation that called for stealth.
“Fuck, are you serious?”
Why, Master? What’s wrong now?
“Because nobody likes a goddamn stealth mission. The only ones that were any good ended up being pretentious and long-winded anyway.”
But…
“I don’t really wanna sit through a stealth mission. Can’t you just skip it or something?”
But it’s an important part of the story!
“No it fucking isn’t. The only reason anybody’s reading this shitty story at all is because of the awesome fight scenes. Stealth missions are too slow. Slow pace means high word count—and you know how readers react to that!”
…OK, fine. Jeez, first the money-raising missions, now the stealth...
[DELETED SCENE]
She’d explored the entire castle—through its Escherian hallways—through its alien gardens—through its exotic kitchens—through its mysterious laboratories—and she’d been quiet as a shadow on a wall. She’d disappeared when a guard would turn his head her way. She’d hid in darkness and in foliage and in cardboard boxes. She was so sure she couldn’t be caught.
The moment she set foot in the elevator, she found out how wrong she was.
The elevator itself was a huge, round platform of brick and stone, made grey and lit only by the torches on the walls. It had a very medieval dungeon feel to it, save for the huge gears that suddenly squealed to life and dragged the elevator down at an ominously slow pace.
Then the haunting howl of a pipe organ filled Shinobu’s ears with its eerie song—and her heart with dread.
As the elevator descended, as the pipe organ played, as the gears squealed from equal parts exertion and neglect, Shinobu’s spine prickled with the sense of impending doom. She gripped her sword tightly with one hand, but stood straight and tall, her heart clawing against her chest.
Somewhere up above came a hiss. Shinobu, against her better judgment, looked up.
She was met by the glowing yellow eyes and the gleaming white fangs of the bat-pony guards as they climbed down from the darkness like spiders out of a hole.
Shinobu’s katana sprung from its sheath, its glimmer ghost white and its shrill shriek like a banshee’s. Down from the wall jumped three of the ponies, their fanged smiles miles wide, their eyes burning in their sockets like fireballs.
The first sprung forth, his mighty bat wings pumping to give him lift as he opened his vampire mouth. There was a swing—then head and body divorced and fell to the ground, the elevator floor stained red. The second shot forth right after the first and joined him just as quickly.
But the third was smart: his magic grabbed onto Shinobu’s katana, pulling it in random directions playfully. He chuckled menacingly as more of his fellows dropped down for round two.
Finally, Shinobu let go of the katana—and just as the unicorn… demon… guy… let’s just call them demonicorns. Anyway, just as the demonicorn commanded the katana to eviscerate its owner, Shinobu drop-kicked him into one of the others, knocking them both over. The katana fell to the floor and clattered noisily.
Shinobu ran, slid, grabbed her katana, then sprung up in a Shoryuken and lopped the head off another bat-pony. There was a never-ending stream of the little bastards, all fangs and glowing eyes and curved horns and bat wings and malicious intent. Many blows were taken. Many deaths followed.
Shinobu had lost count of how many she’d slain, but the elevator’s stone floor was going from cool grey to blood red considerably fast. Bodies and pieces of bodies, piled here, piled there, blank eyes and slacked jaws and limbs that twitched before going still.
Panic gripped Shinobu as the organ music filled her ears over the screaming and shrieking of the descending monsters. Her heart pounded against her chest as if demanding to be freed. Beads of sweat flew from her face as she moved like lightning, striking and striking and striking her enemies like an act of God. Throughout all the chaos, the organ’s ominous song grew louder and more intense.
At last, the elevator came to a halt, shuddering so suddenly, it threw Shinobu off her feet. The remaining demonicorns and bat-ponies descended on her as she fell, screeching and laughing with warbling, distorted voices.
There were bites and scratches and the pounding of hooves—interrupted suddenly by Shinobu's thunderous roar, coupled with a sudden upward thrust of wind and blade. The demonicorns and bat-ponies were all tossed like waves, with Shinobu escaping what could have been a vicious end, covered only in bruises and cuts. Her katana sang through the air, a long white tongue of metal that ghosted through her approaching enemies, tentacles of blood escaping open wounds.
At last, only one foe remained. His eyes flickered in the low lighting, glowing as ominously as his horn. Shinobu’s lungs and heart and limbs and head were all screaming for mercy, her breath escaping her in desperate rattles. There was a ringing in her ears that deafened the organ music.
The two circled one another like predators, until finally the demonicorn charged, his horn aglow and teeth bared. Shinobu swung her katana soundlessly, and the demonicorn ran by her almost absentmindedly, completely unaware that his two halves were falling away. Both his left and right fell to the elevator floor with a wet flop.
Shinobu finally relaxed. Her shaky breaths became shaky sighs as her katana suddenly gained a thousand pounds, pulling her wobbling arms down almost to her knees. Sweat rolled down her dark skin, soaking her socks and pooling around her feet. With concentrated effort, she managed to sheathe her blade.
Then the organ music ground into an intense conclusion, drawing Shinobu back into the present. The elevator had stopped on a floor that stretched forever in every direction, save for the small shrine before her. Stained-glass windows depict a terrifying horse goddess burning the planet while six ponies surround her. Statues of mares and stallions in various stages of grief and distress bow toward a small, cobblestone dais that holds the pipe organ.
And there, hunched over the organ, was its musician, a long black cloak trailing down, rolling right off the dais and across the floor. She turned her head slowly, taking longer than needed, revealing a long, dark blue horn, glittering blue eyes, and the most sinister smile Shinobu had ever seen.
“So another pest has arrived,” said the figure. Hers was the exact same angry, regal voice from the phone message...
Shinobu tightened her grip on her katana.