??????“Authorities?are once again baffled by as yet another murder was discovered on the rooftop
of the Esmeralda Museum of Fine Arts. As the body count rises, one must wonder if these murders are merely resulting as part of the rising crime spree or the sign of something much work. Detective Elise LeRouge is now on scene along with our prime reporter prepared to repor-” the reporter’s voice cut off with a click as the dusty television settled into its sleep. A sigh fills the air of
the now pitch-black apartment.
??????“Seems like bodies just keep piling up these days… how many does that make within the
past two days?” a voice says with a tired discontent.
??????“Forty-two?and that’s just our city.” another voice, much smaller and more
light-hearted than the previous answers into the void followed by a small giggle, “My, my, to think we only disappear for two months and this much chaos
already runs rampant.”
??????“Well it’s there problem now. The world said it no longer needed heroes now that all
the villains were defeated so we will obey it’s wishes. It can all burn for all
I care.”
??????“Such harsh words from someone who used to be so passionate about life and justice
and all that hero stuff. You were even known as The People’s Guardian.”
??????“Yeah and I was also called The Butcher of New Orleans, The Monster of Florence, and
even The Angel of Death. I’ve killed people Mura… my hands are covered in far more blood than I’d like to even think about.”
??????“Yes but they were all bad people. Think of the lives you saved by doing so… you’ve
saved the world more times than any other hero and countless of families are
now in your debt.”
??????“That’s enough Mura.” The click of a lamp switch sounds off followed by the buzzing of
its light desperately flickering to life. Alone sits a young man of his mid
twenties rubbing his temples in a futile attempt at keeping a migraine at bay.
“The world no longer needs the Berserker and I no longer need it!” he shouts into the emptiness of his cramped apartment beforetaking a final swig of his whisky and passing out.
??????Across the rooms, sitting on the only clean place of the apartment sits the accursed
Muramasa blade patiently waiting for it’s master to answer it’s gentle call.



So there ya have it the prologue to my story. If enough people like it I'll continue it so I definitely want to hear what you have to say on it!