The blood. Everywhere. Great rivers of scarlet and crimson. Flowing over the hills and though the forest. He ran.
Head long into the thick foliage, he ran. Not looking back for fear of the demon that hunted him.
Every muscle tense in fear, sweat dropping in great rivulets from his forehead, every breath a heave, gnawing it's way out of him.
His eyes darted over the trail in front of him. Desperately searching for refuge, escape.
His bare feet trampled through dead leaves and bamboo twigs. His toe grazed a leaf covered rock and he stumbled, hitting the ground hard, his shoulder taking most of the blow. He rolled over and looked back.
The blood came, toppling trees and bamboo as it roared toward him. Stopping at nothing to envelop it's prey. The smell it gave off was putrid and the screams and wails of the souls inside it, rang clear in the night.
He climbed to his feet to again run, but it was too late, the crimson river collapsed and devoured him with dripping fangs.
He tried to scream but could not draw the breath to do so. The waves thrashed him around, smashing him into trees, rocks, and other floating debris. Then with jolting suddenness, he stopped, floating, suspended in this unholy river of death.
From deep withing the blackness, he heard a laugh, a familiar maddening laugh that swelled up from the abyss and pounded in his ears. From this same dark chasm below him, a figure formed, huge ornate robes over hundreds of years old covered it, concealing it's body. Again the laugh.
Amakusa Shiro laughed, finally fading into view below him and floated up to meet his eyes. "You weakling. Foolish and weak. Worthless pile of animal droppings that you are, I curse you! Abayo!" He wailed, drawing his Parenke Stone over his head to strike him down.
But the blow never came. The stone cracked and split in half, taking Amakusa with it. He laughed hideously as he fell in half and receded into the murk of blood.
The man tried to cry out, tried to move, to get away, but his body was frozen eyes open, locked looking ahead.
A sword slashed in front of him and Amakusa's laugh turned into another. One ten times more evil.
He could take it no longer. "Zankuro!! You filth! Why do you haunt me so?!"
Zankuro chuckled, replacing Shiro in front of him and slamming the point of his sword into the ground that wasn't there. He crossed his arms and glared at him. "Because you got away." He snarled in response. "You and I both know you should have died with the others. Your soul should have been added to this, my collection." Zankuro waved his arm, encompassing the river that he hung in.
"That's a LIE!" The man yelled, more in defiance of himself than Zankuro. "My parents died to save me. It was not my choice!"
Again the laugh. "Why do you lie to yourself? You know as well as I you should have died honorably beside them." Zankuro said drawing his sword holding it to his side. "And now, I will rectify that. You shall join you ancestors here. Welcome to your hell, Galford!" He swung the sword cleaving Galford from shoulder to hip.
The slash was quick and, much to his horror, he got to watch as his top half of his body slid away from the other and both collapse to the ground. And as if some form of earthly plain had formed under him, the severed bottom oozed a pool of dark blood. Inside it, Galford could see the shape of a temple.
"Just try and defeat me you weakling. Wolf in lambs clothing, trying to be a people he is not! Weak American blood, not worth spilling! I'm waiting for you........."


"POPPY!"
Galford screamed as he sat up in bed ripping his bed sheet in half. He had somehow managed to grip both corners of the sheet and tear it down the middle in his night terror, exposing his sweat soaked skin to the night air.
For a moment he didn't know where he was. Fear still gripped his heart and every muscle in his body quivered spasmodically.
Outside, an owl hooted, and insects chirped in the trees. The sweet smell of spring flowers drifted in and helped to relax his nerves. He patted himself, making sure he was still in one piece. "Ohhh. Thank you. Thank you." He said to no one in particular. He was still in California, and still alive.
Poppy, barking and snarling, rushed into Galford's room and leapt up on hid bed looking for an intruder. Noticing that there wasn't one, she whimpered.
"I'm sorry girl. I just had a bad dream." He frowned stroking her soft fur. Poppy yipped and began to lick the sweat from his face.
"Hey! Hahahah Stop!" He smiled at his friend and wrapped his arms around her. "Ya, ya, I love you too."
She hopped down off the bed and Galford flopped his legs over the side. He suddenly noticed a sharp pain in his toe and a small splotch of blood, starting to bubble out by the nail. "What the hell?" He pulled his leg up to get a better look.
The nail was broken a little and the skin was starting to turn black and blue. "That's the same toe I stubbed in my........" He fell silent.
He hobbled into the front of his meager dwelling and stoked the fire in his fireplace into a blaze. Adding more wood, he looked up at his sword, hanging over the mantle. He frowned and pulled it down, looking at the golden dandle and finely decorated scabbard.
"Were going on a trip Poppy." The wolf barked happily and followed Galford of the house.
Stepping on the soft moist ground outside. He drew his sword and thrust it into the ground. He took a long look at the full moon and Poppy howled.
"You've made your challenge Zankuro. Your blood is half of mine, and I am not weak. You want me? You got me! Justice is long overdue!"