CHAPTER SIX: SELF DEFENSE:
With two more blows to the air and a spinning kick, Kajar had finished his form. Lady sat on the other end of the dojo, clapping slowly.
“Why must I learn this, Lady?” questioned Kajar.
Lady shrugged, “Training,” she said, “If anyone catches you at sunrise, it’s over.”
Kajar turned to put his shirt back on. Fresh blood from the night before stained the white cotton of his shirt.
“I know how to fight,” Kajar said in the midst of putting his shirt back on, “I’ve known how to fight for thousands of years.”
Lady collapsed into a ball of fire and reappeared at Kajar’s shoulder. She took his arm and whispered sweetly, “I know that, darling, but I want to know how well you can fight. How would you stack up against a master?” She tugged his arm playfully, “I hear Japan is lovely this time of year.
Kajar reached out to touch Lady’s face.
“All right,” he said, “but only for you.”
Lady blushed.
“Besides,” Kajar said, “I’ll do anything to get us away from this ‘black death’ everyone seems to have.”
*** *** ***
Bodies lay strewn about the dojo, twisted and mangled into unnatural positions. Groans were let out from the few that were still alive. Blood trickled down the floor. Kajar stood triumphantly above them all.
The master of the dojo gave Kajar a blood boiling stare. “How dare you invade the sanctity of this place!” he shouted, “You have killed my students! Why?”
“To prove a point.” Kajar said, sinisterly
“You shall pay for this!” From a nearby wall the master plucked two swords and tossed one to Kajar.
Kajar looked at the weapon as if he had been handed a bottle of poison.
“Let me guess,” Kajar said, “this is part of some ‘fight with honor’ thing, am I right?”
He tossed the sword aside. “I’ll pass thanks.”
The master withdrew his own sword from its sheath. The katana gleamed brightly, despite the darkness.
The master charged at Kajar, who ducked over a massive swing. The master recovered quickly and made another move with his sword. Kajar backed away from a second swing only to be caught by the edge of the blade. He stared at his wound then looked back at the master in anger, his green eyes digging deep into the master’s soul.
“You’ll pay for that.”
Three strikes to the body. His razor sharp fingers cut the master, spilling even more blood onto the floor.
Endlessly, tirelessly the two fought. Time seemed to crawl to a halt, unconcerned of the magnitude of their battle. Both fought relentlessly, showing no mercy. They traded blows back and forth, neither giving up an advantage. Almost like a ping pong match, the two went back and forth. Punch for punch neither seemed to grow tired.
Finally Kajar inched his way forward until the master had no room to use his sword. A kick to the knees broke his legs. The master let out a sharp yelp like a wounded puppy. Kajar pressed his advantage, wrapping his long fingers around the master’s throat.
“Give up.” Kajar ordered.
“I’ll…die…first.” The master was able to let out between coughs.
Kajar took a moment to look out the window into the night sky. An evil grin itched it’s way across his face.
“So be it.”
The master let out a cry of agony, and all was still in the night. Not a sound escaped the hilltop, save for the chirping of crickets.
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