Yah.... this'un's kinda old, But Ilike how it turned out ^^; So... ah..... Critique if you want, but I know alot of what needed to be fixed ^^
I No Own Kingdom Hearts. Yah. Or anything related to it.
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A shrouded figure strode boldly through the dark alleys of a rainy, broody city. He didn't seem to notice- or even care about the dark bug like creatures that phased into and out of the pavement around him. He was interested in one thing only. He turned into a clearing, unflinching as a blade barely missed his head. Turning to face his attacker, he grinned, unseen under a thick shadow.
"A puppet for a puppeteer?" he drawled, snapping. In immediate response, hundreds of white, serpentine, humanoid figures appeared in sync, as if summoned, as if one being. The attacker, a teenage boy of pale features, snarled, pulling his blade from a black miasma. The shrouded being laughed mockingly. "You think you can fight all of my servants?" The boy looked at the shroud, then at the blade dangling limply from his hand.
"Are you offering... to help me?" the boy asked, shocked.
"No, but if you beg, I may shorten your end." a smirk danced across his lips. The boy blinked up at the man, surrounded by hundreds of lithe ghosts. The shroud's smirk grew. "On both knees." The boy fell to his knees with a sob.
"Please, I only wanted to be real, to be whole! You can understand that longing, I see it in your stance, your body figure," another sob. "Please... Brave are the merciful! Strong, and true! The merciless are spared nothing! Please!!" the shroud's smirk grew under his shaded hood. "Please..." the boy sobbed.
"No, I think I will let you die slowly. It is far more entertaining." the shroud stated. The boy's face fell. The ghostly beings leapt at the boy as one. He fought, and fought and fought, but it seemed he was getting nowhere. The shroud's smirk grew ever wider.
From a sudden flurry, a black light exploded in the fight, killing the beings of oblivion. "What is this?!" he gasped, stepping away from the scene. Turning, he fled, the boy's voice ringing in his head. Unaware of the surrounding walls, unfamiliar with the paved alleys, he stopped, panting heavily. Soft laughter. The man turned to face the exit of the alley, the only exit. The boy stood there, looking older, stronger. Darker. The shroud stepped backward, into a wall. The boy-no, man- strode forward, with purpose. The man threw his blade at the shroud, and it hit; it's aim true. Gasping and gurgling, the shroud put his hand to his neck, trying to remove the blade. His hood fell back, revealing his identity. The man smirked
"Blessed are the merciful, for they obtain mercy." he grinned, putting his hand on the blade's hilt. "And so the puppet overcomes the puppeteer." the boy stated, ripping his sword from the man's neck, and leaving him to die alone.