Chapter 1: The beginning of the beginning
"Blood… there's blood on my hands." The figure said in a faint voice. "Why is there blood on my hands?" He asked himself. His voice kept trailing off. The raccoon patted his gut a little then looked at the large blotches of blood appearing on his hand as he did so. "Oh, that's right…" He chuckled. *cough cough* "It's my blood." Sly stumbled forwards on the metal grating as his blood flowed cleanly out of his newly created orifice. He then fell over, dropping his cane. Sly's vision was blurred and he could hear a loud ringing sound at the back of his head. "Damn it, I shouldn't make jokes. That's what got me into this mess in the first place." *Cough cough* Sly coughed up blood and it sprayed the metal grating beneath him. This unusual place was not a safe place for the master thief to stay. "I gotta… Gotta get out." Sly's voice trailed off again. He fumbled around for his cane and used it to slowly and clumsily get himself back on his feet. Everything seemed so dark. It was like night time had been taken to a new level. "Wow, where are the stars? Oh, right. I'm inside." Sly tripped over again, but quickly recovered. His body felt weak. It was extremely tempting to just lie down and let nature take its course. However, this raccoon wasn't about to let exhaustion get in the way of his survival. Sly picked up the pace and even began to stride across the metal floor. This sudden burst of energy was short lived however, as he collapsed within a matter of seconds. He could feel it all fading away. 'Is this it?' Sly thought to himself. "No. It can't be. I'm not going down like this." He slammed the cane to the ground so that it was vertical. Sly then used it to struggle his way off the ground. His knees shook as he did so and they soon gave way, causing him to fall to his knees, holding onto his cane in order to keep himself upright. Sly panted heavily and coughed up some more blood. As he began pulling himself up a second time, his wound gave him an extremely sharp pain. Ignoring this as best he could, the cooper lifted himself up and returned to his slow walking pace, occasionally drifting around due to the weariness caused by blood loss. Sly felt like he's had one to many martinis or some other equally intoxicating beverage. He stumbled forward, using his cane for support. "A door." He smiled. A door stood before him and the sweet smell of fresh air leaked through, taking the place of the musty, humid feel of the air that Sly had been tasting along with his own blood. He took one hand of the cane, steadying it with the other to keep him balanced. He used his free hand to push the door. However, it wouldn't budge. Sly looked at the wall and noticed the command console attached to it. "Right. It's locked. Of course it is." Sly struggled to pin in his desired numbers. 'Good thing I stole this.' He thought to himself as he heard the wrong pass-code sign and fumbled to take the pass-card out of his pocket. He slipped it in the console and it automatically opened the door for him. "Freedom, sweet Freedom!" Sly exclaimed as loud as he could (which wasn't that loud). He clumsily made his way out of the door and into the back alley, leaving behind the pass-card and tripping over as he did so. After picking himself up another time sly turned to face the exit of the alley, seeing bright street lights. These lights almost blinded him. Not being used to the light yet, he covered his eyes with his blood drenched arm and continued to stumble forward. Slower and slower, Sly's pace took a turn for the worse and it took more than a few minutes. He lowered his arm and held his hand against the seeping wound. "Gah!" He cried out in pain as he dropped to his knees. The injured raccoon coiled over and grimaced. The pain was now too much to ignore, even with the weariness that the blood loss had caused him. But Sly forged on. He couldn't let his injury beat him. Sly was making good progress when he felt it. He'd already walked a few streets too. Unfortunately, he could no longer handle it. He had lost too much blood.
Suddenly, an array of lights surrounded me as I felt the life slowly leaving my body. Where did these lights come from and why where they there? I asked myself these questions as my vision was restored and my arm lowered. I was standing right outside a police station. And not just any police station. It was the office that Carmelita worked in. How ironic! As the police surrounded me and I fell to my knees, a voice sounded off in the distance. It was familiar, though I don't know whose it was. I saw them, but they were a blur to me and my hearing became too fuzzy to make out their voice. I squinted my eyes in an attempt to sharpen my vision, but failed miserably. Coughing up blood and losing a lot of it through my wound, I collapsed. Soon after, the darkness took me. Is this the end for me? Is this the end for Sly Cooper?
I know this first chapter was short, but It is just an introduction. I've already began writing the second chapter. It'll be out soon. I've rated this story as M since I'll be describing violent scenes (such as bleeding and slamming and moments of intense pain) although there will be little to no 'explicit' content (although there may be mild suggestive themes). Also don't worry about this ugly chunk of text. I do that when there are no other characters around. The other chapters will be paragraphed.