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Its 4 a.m. He’s in a grim mood, but slightly ecstatic at the past frenzy of killing that has happened in the last half hour. The walls are splattered red in color  all over the room. He looks at his hands, red, in his own blood.

It hasn’t been easy, they were many, he was alone. They were fast, he was slow and monolithic. He didn’t give a damn. They had drawn first blood, he was thirsting for revenge.

He shrugs his shoulder, and gets down to business; there are a few of them still remaining, hiding in the dark corners, unseen yet deadly as ever. Its now or never, the morning sun would not help him, they would escape and he would  never know their true identity.

An hour later, with a satisfying smile on his face, he finally rests. He had done his job, the f$$king assholes were finally taken care off. He didn’t even try removing the bloodstains all over the place. No court, no jury would ever punish him, after all he was a hero, doing good for the greater cause.

Suddenly there’s a movement in the back. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees one of them escape through the open window. Damn! With a grim thought, he readies himself for the next battle, knowing that they’ll be back tomorrow night. But he doesn’t back away, he is ready to draw blood again if needed. After all, he is – 

NINJA, the mosquito killer.

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