Reiatsu Examples

The sides of the enclosure gleamed softly beneath the opening, a faint silvery luminescence gracing the edges and faces of the gray-black rock unlike any of the rocks he’d seen in the hills around his home. “Home,” he thought. Where was home? Suddenly a bolt of lightning struck his back, convulsed his whole body,

across the room upstairs. Through the cracks in the floorboards I saw a large shadow with a

The exit, and a dressing room. I took the route to the dressing room, and bounded down a short hallway leading to a grimy doorway. The door was thrown open and I expected a glorious radiation to come shining at me, but then, nothing. The girl was not here, but a trace of her was still there. Just a faint linger of beauty floating in the entirety of the room. And as that, without the cross of a thought, I followed my mind. He visualized the aura of the girl, almost as if she was there with me.

While many individual monk-warriors are still recognized from the Heian period in Japan, the most notorious amongst them all in Japanese records and literature is Shinjitsu. Regarded as “Japan’s number one evil martial monk,”1 Shinjitsu comes across as more of an akuso (evil monk) than the “ultimate representation of the greedy and violent sōhei”2 that previous interpretations and literature make him out to be. In his book The Teeth and Claws of Buddha, Mikael S. Adolphson attempts to better classify Shinjitsu as the monk-commander and warrior-administrator he was, and it is this new interpretation that makes him so important. Shinjitsu, in historical records, was less likely to use his monastic position than use his ties in the imperial court and with other nobility to assert his control, and was in fact involved in the first event of the imperial court calling for help from monastic troops.

The scream for help strewn her nerves everywhere, and her hands now shook with fear. As she looked ahead to the large bay window again, she saw something she hoped to never see again.

Angela wasn’t ready for the sight of her baby sister hanging from the joists like a piece of meat on a hook. For a moment, all she could do was tremble and feel the hot tears run down her face. When she screamed, people all down Walsh and Bishop turned on their lights and looked to see what could have cause that sound. It was the sound of pure hurt and

“To the door! Jacob yelled. “It’s at the third trough from the left, stay to the right!” I realized this was not the time for logic. Chaos ensued as Bronwyn hurled herself at where she thought the hollow was while the other three bolted for the door. I wanted to follow, but I refused to let Bronwyn lead herself on a suicide mission against a monster she couldn’t even see. I allowed water to slowly begin to drip down my palms. “Bronwyn, take a deep breath,” I warned her. Water gushed out of my hands to encircle Bronwyn, leaving only her head exposed. I could see the shadow of the monster coil back in alarm, the reaction I had expected. However, I did not expect it to begin moving to Jacob, Emma, and Enoch, who had not yet reached the exit. I let Bronwyn free from her watery cage so I could cover the floor in a thin coat of water. Bronwyn bounded toward the others. I searched the floor until I saw the

A rough, chiseled path led me down into the aperture, but I saw no kind of lighting to

With a bit of rumbling the generator started up ,the lights in the room started to flicker,

Few countries have a warrior tradition as long and exciting as Japan. It is a tradition found in the Samurai, the loyal and self-sacrificing knight of ancient Japan. The Samurai is a valiant warrior who can both appreciate the beauty of nature in that of a rose blossom but will also kill or die for his master in an instant. This well-rounded warrior was the ruling class of Japan for almost seven hundred years. He fought for control of his country and to keep Japan free from outside influences. (Turnbull 1)

I remember the day with clarity. Yet, I remember it with an ancient feel of age and a deep ache. I don't quite remember what she looked like in those last moments, but I do remember how her blood stained the earth a beautiful crimson.

She remembers the taste of grit and mud in her mouth, the way shell casings felt rolling between her fingers as she counted them and played catch with them. She remembers how many rigs rolled through the Farm every day. She remembers the exact color of her mother’s eyes when the spark of life left them, the exact way blood was all she could smell for days afterward. She remembers how the Bullet Farmer’s eyes had stared, how his bullet-teeth had glinted, how his gnarled finger had pointed at her and whispered, “She’s perfect.”

that!” She opened the door and a big cloud of smoke hit her in the face.

Swirling fog and dynamic light surround my silhouette, a warped halo of ominous colors accentuating the restrained passion of my abrupt, powerful gestures. A demonic cackle resonates from my parted, sneering lips, a sense of power emanating from my very pores. I summon my strength for my greatest achievement, my moment of glory, the heroes of humanity having fallen before my wrath, as pleas for reconsideration bombard my deaf ears. The stroke of a button - water vapor and carbon are the last remnants of the blue and green orb that for so long careened around a furnace of burning hydrogen.

Mason decided to go into the suspicious looking cave and take a look around. Once he entered the cave about fifteen feet in, the walls started to glow and light up with many colors and he thought, “What is going on here?”