A Lucky Curse
Hello! This is basically my take on the Raijinshuu's past if you hadn't guessed already and this is also my first story, so I'm a bit nervous. Nevertheless I shall let you proceed with the story. I'll probably redo it later.
Bickslow never really liked people. They were always so judgemental about things that were 'different', said that they were 'weird', 'dangerous',and that they should lock people like him up because of something he couldn't control. He was constantly bullied at school, the teachers not only not stopping it but actually supporting it, and whenever he tried to talk to someone they told him to 'shut up' because 'I don't want to catch you're weird' or 'You're the most annoying person I've ever met' even though that's obviously a lie because nobody ever let's him talk. But it was said and it hurt. So he didn't like people because people didn't like him. His parents didn't count because he placed their souls inside wooden figures when they were about to die, therefore they were dolls. Not people.
That was about when his hatred of people started. Up until that point his parents had always helped him, told him that people would get used to him and then all the bullying would stop and he'd have friends and everything would be perfect. But then they were murdered and Bickslow's entire world came crashing down down before him as he started at their bloodied corpses before he used his eyes to kill the culprit in a way a five year old shouldnot have known but did because of what his neighbours say they should do to him. He thought the hate should have stopped there because the villagers now feared him since he was too young to be arrested but it only got worse.
"Shouldn't we just kill him already?" "I agree, he's too dangerous!" "Drown him in the pool and make it look like an accident!" Bickslow froze from his position outside the door. He was now nine, still a year too young to be arrested, and had been listening for quite a while now. He discovered that the people who bullied him the most at school actually held meetings at one of their houses every night to discuss what they were going to do to him tomorrow and planned until nine o'clock, only stopping because they had to go to bed (they also slept over at the persons house).
'Honestly, do these people have no lives?'he thought, and was just about to leave when he heard their parents- who were also there for some reason or other -plotting to kill him. He knew that he didn't stand a chance of survival, considering the height and strength difference between them, and he could only run so far before collapsing, but he could think of another alternative. After all, how can you kill someone who's already dead? You can't, that's how, and if he's going out he'll do it himself. He figured it was better than letting these drunkards (it sounded like that anyway) do it.
He sprinted off into the forest until he came to a small clearing. The only thing there was a tree stump with wood shavings, a few totem dolls... and an extremely sharp knife. He picked up the knife with trembling hands, slowly moving it towards his throat as he contemplated it he should do this or not. His mind flashed back to when his parents were alive.
His mother carefully bandaged his bleeding leg while his father talked to him in a calm and comforting tone that he never heard from anyone else-other than his mother of course.
"Listen, Bicks," he'd start, "I know that it doesn't seem like it, but things will get better. They're just not used to having someone with magic around, let alone magic in a place such as ones eyes." Then his mother would finish dealing with his wounds, kiss his forehead and take him to bed. It was small moments of happiness like this that made life worth living... but now he had nothing to live for.
He wasn't even sure that his last effort to save his parents even worked. Sure, the dolls glowed the same colour as their souls, but they had shown no sign of life since then, and so his parents were probably waiting for him in the afterlife. He brought the knife closer to his neck as he desperately wanted to see his parents but was still unsure because it might have worked.
"Drown him in the pool and make it look like an accident!"
'Ah. That's right. I die either way.' He remembered, however just as he was about to end it a strong amount of power went to his head, shocking him so much he stumbled back and dropped the knife. He looked up and in the distance he saw what looked like a singular, battered, blue soul surrounded by many red ones-at least 100, he thought.
'Let's see... I think blue is good and red is bad... yeah, that's it. I have to be sure that's what it is first though and see if I can help them.' He started towards the area, forgetting to wonder why his power was so persistent he saw it and going right past the now ignored knife.
What he saw when he arrived surprised him. It was a giant building, not a village like he thought. Above the double doors was a purple cloud with a green cross through it, and above that it said 'Thunder Matsurigoto*'. He then realised that this was probably what a guild looked like and that it was a dark one due to the extreme amount of red souls. He didn't get too close for fear of being caught by the guards (he was sure it was a dark one now) and tiptoed around the building to where the blue soul was. There was a window he could see through and even from his faraway position he could tell that he had long green hair, torn brown clothing and was in chains. He was extremely small and had a tiny but noticeable pool of blood around him. By then Bickslow had made up his mind.
'I have to save him!'
*Matsurigoto; the Japanese word for government, or rule.
Yeah, I'm definitely redoing thing if I become a better writer. I would really appreciate some constructive criticism!