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Yetzer Hara (Ariamella and I)

B

Broomhandle45

Guest
There wasn't a place on Earth that was pure, everywhere was a filthy disease. But it was a system of checks and balances, sometimes...the illness needed to stay to stop it from becoming terminal, a cold that lingered was an irritation, but not life threatening. One could live and work with a cold. Nobody could live with a cancerous tumor.

The skies overhead were dominated by the perpetual lights of the skyscrapers around Rio De Janeiro. At night, there were few places that were dark and quiet. Those massive towers into the sky were always on, perhaps a testament to humanity's progression of technology, or their hubris. The people within were no better than dogs, they were just richer than the sprawl underneath the massive support struts, sinking into the earth like a bowing man, holding the burden of greed on their backs.

The sprawl was perhaps the best word for it, with buildings as far as the eye could see, holo-banners and signs flashing in multiple languages. A tourist could get lost for days and have no idea where they ended up, which was a common tactic for gangs in the favelas that seemed to simply be the entirety of Rio's ground level, it seemed that every day or another, there was a new gang, a new name...people simply stopped trying to keep track.

She could see the sickness everywhere, the roots had long been poisoned and rotten, and the tree was now dead where it stood. It was nighttime, not that it changed much. There were so many signs that scattered light in every direction, and the cars flying overhead seemed to be even more. It was a wonder anyone managed to get sleep.

And so, she walked. Too young looking to be walking alone, old enough to get in trouble. Attractive enough to get the wrong kind of attention. Decidedly Asian, with short dark hair and eyes that seemed to cut through liars. She knew the type of people around here, her skirt was intentional, ridden slightly high to show off her toned legs, a long umbrella settled in her hands. With her coat, it was easy to imagine that she wasn't wearing anything at all. People looked, thought about it...some moved on, others stared.

She knew where to stop when she heard the faint whistle, the shifting of feet behind her as people seemed to know when to make themselves scarce.

“Look at you, little schoolgirl,” a voice said from behind her as she turned around with a faint frown. Oh, she saw it, she saw it clear as day how sick and disgusting this man was. Grinning like the cheshire cat, surrounded by people that seemed to come out of the shadows, almost waiting for something fresh. The local Favela gang, if she knew any indication of the markings on their shoulder, some of them full sleeves.

She knew some of the iconography, but she doubted that they were followers of the Seven Gates. What they did show was just how disgusting they were, how far they had sunk. She saw four of them that were beyond saving, but all of them were asleep.

“You gonna be a good little girl for us, china doll?” The man leered, moving forward. He was very clearly armed as Aimi took a faint step back, clutching her umbrella tighter as she gripped the handle. The others laughed, and started to move in.

Animals.

She rotated the handle as they moved closer, her eyes narrowing as the man's fingers looked to caress her hair like she was a pretty pet, some of them were already getting excited, letting their guard down. She was quiet, meek looking, easy prey for an easy night. There was an audible click and the girl's eyes dilated to a frightening degree as the flash of steel was drawn, it happened so quickly, that the man barely noticed his hand drop to the ground before the blood sprayed out and he let out a horrified scream. Her second slash came down on his neck, cutting through his torso as he hit the ground with a pitiable gasp.

“What the fuc-” One of the men snarled, racking the chamber on his pistol as the girl spun around and surged forward. Gunshots rang out, but they didn't hit anything as her sword cut through his torso in a spray of blood, he hunched over in pain and the girl effortlessly brought the katana down on his neck to send his head hitting the pavement.

“Fucking bitch! Kill her! Kill the bitch!” One roared as she reached into her coat and smoothly drew her machine pistol. Before they knew to move, her gun roared. The muzzle flash the size of a baseball as it lit up her grinning face as a line of brass clattered to her feet, raking the weapon across the street before darting deeper into the favela, slamming her shoulder into one of the gang members with surprising force before spinning around to sweep his legs out from under him and step on his throat with a satisfying crunch.

The empty magazine of her smoking pistol dropped and she fed another one in, the slide snapping forward as she lowered her blade, blood running off the edge. It was suddenly chaos in a normally quiet, well controlled favela. You'd have thought another gang war erupted by the time people knew what was going on. Instead, it was some crazy Asian bitch that seemed to bound across the rooftops. People were shouting, gunfire howled in the night as she crossed over a building, her pistol roaring bloody murder as one of the gang members took half a magazine into the chest and she slammed her feet into his bloody body, the roof giving way as she grinned hungrily for more.

This place was filled with filth! More! MORE!
 
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