He was an enigma and he knew it. He thrived on it, people not knowing his true identity or even what he looked like behind his mask. It gave him a sense of safety, and in his line of work, that was vital to survive.
Nyuujaku was what he called himself. The name was as cryptic as he was. It had many meanings: death of a priest, nirvana, spiritual liberty. A name this mysterious was perfect for an assassin, especially one of the unholy kind. He was the man humans feared for thousands of years, and still did to this day. The beast, the false messiah, the man of sin, and to his embarrassment, little horn. He didn't even have any fucking horns. Not yet, at least. He was the creature from the nightmares of many Christians, the antichrist himself. Even before he was born, humans were afraid of him. If only they knew the truth.
The sun crept out of the clouds, brightening the sky with its flames. What a nice day to be stuck inside a dark room, listening to your father droning on about his puppets. Nyuujaku sighed. Wasn't Satan supposed to be telling him of his new mission? He had people to kill and no time to waste. After twenty minutes, Nyuujaku snapped at him to shut the hell up and tell him who he had to get rid of.
"Oh, right! Sorry!" Satan laughed.
Good for him, being so jolly when they had to get on with it. No hint of anxiety on his face or in his voice. All the while, Nyuujaku was shitting himself – or he would if he could defecate. Every mission was the same, kill a bunch of people to make the world a better place. Doesn't mean he wasn't afraid, even after four years of doing this every day.
"So, your mission, if you choose to accept it," Satan interrupted his own speech to giggle. Nyuujaku was going to throttle this prick. "is to rescue captured hybrids from slavery."
Nyuujaku felt sick. Humans kidnapping hybrids and keeping them as slaves was common these days. The treatment of these poor people enraged him. Created to fight in the World War III, they gave their lives to fight for their country. The government drugged most of them into a feral state and forced them to kill the enemy. As soon as the war was over, they sold them to the rich as property. Nyuujaku sympathised with them. He had the same reaction from humans, hatred and demonisation for being born. He felt the utmost pity for these unfortunate souls.
"How are we going to do this?" Nyyujaku asked. "Are we going to sneak in or go in there, all guns blazing? Personally, I prefer the latter." Why should he have mercy for this scum?
"I think we should do a combination of both." Satan replied. "We should be covert until we enter the premises, then launch an all-out attack before they have the chance to draw their weapons."
Nyuujaku nodded. That made sense. It would be stupid if they ran in and started tearing them apart as soon as they got there. That would be giving them too much notice.
They made a plan. Nyuujaku and his two helpers would infiltrate the traffickers' hideout, kill them, then rescue the hybrids kept there. Easy enough, they figured.
By the time they arrived at the traffickers' hideout, the sun was setting. Perfect timing. All they had to do was wait for it to get dark, and they'd be able to sneak in without getting caught. It would have taken a while, though. It was the middle of summer, so it wouldn't be nightfall for a few hours yet. When the moon made its appearance and all natural light was gone, Nyuujaku transformed into a mass of humanoid shadow and hid in the darkness. He watched and waited, gauging when would be the right time to alert his helpers and attack.
Half an hour had passed until the traffickers retired to their beds for the night in the house on the property. Nyuujaku tutted. The poor hybrids who didn't even want to be there had to sleep in a dark, dirty old barn while these bastards got comfy beds to rest their putrid heads. How despicable.
It was now or never. Nyuujaku made a hand sign to signal to his helpers that it was time to attack. They both nodded.
Nyuujaku burst into the house like a freight train. The traffickers jolted out of their beds, wondering what the hell was going on. Nyuujaku created razor sharp war fans from shadows and began his slaughter. The men and women grabbed their guns and shot at him, but he was too quick for them to even distinguish. He slashed and sliced, cutting throats, limbs and stomachs, until they were all dead. But that wasn't the end of it.
Enraged yelling from outside hit his ears. There were more than he thought. Nyuujaku huffed and readied his fans for the next onslaught. He ran out to find his two helpers fighting a mass of people. His arms ached and he was out of breath, but he joined his teammates and helped kill the remaining traffickers.
Nyuujaku and his female helper searched the property for any more lowlifes. His male helper made his way over to the barn where the hybrids were being kept.
It was all over now. The traffickers were dead and the hybrids were safe. The helper opened the doors to the barn. The sight of hundreds of emaciated young hybrids in cages made him shake his head in sorrow and disgust.
How could people be so cruel?