Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun or any of its characters.. I actually don't
own much of anything. ::pouts::
I decided to create a Trigun story with a character of my own creation as my star. I had originally planned on not making somebody but instead using Vash as the main char of the story but decided against it, since I have a habit of injuring the main character more than I should and didn't want a bunch of people flaming me for hurting their precious Vash. I am not sure yet where I am going with this story, I just got the idea for this first chapter in a daydream; it was just so vivid I had to write it down, so if anybody has an idea about how to continue the story, please, don't be shy.
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The young man walked slowly down the ally, toward the main street. He wore a white shirt, black pants, along with a bright red jacket across his back was slung a rifle with a huge site. The bar he had been in a few seconds earlier had gotten a bit to rowdy, so he had decided to leave. He heard the door open and close again behind him, figured others were getting away from the fight inside. But soon he was proved wrong as he heard the all-to-familiar sound of a machinegun being cocked, he tried to ignore it and keep moving, but soon was halted as the man behind him shouted something, he couldn't tell what the man said because he was quite a distance away, practically out of the ally actually, but it sounded like the man had said halt, then something unintelligible, maybe a name, no, it was to long to be a name. He stopped in his tracks and turned slowly, there was three of them, this wasn't a good sign, he could take one, maybe two, but not three, he saw that only one of them men actually had a gun pointed at him, the other to had theirs pointed at the ground at their feet, maybe if he surprised them, no, he didn't want to rush things, maybe their could be some diplomatic solution to this, but then he noticed the man with the gun pointed at him to start to tense up, like he was preparing to fire, so he was forced into action. He dropped to one knee, his rifle suddenly in his hands, he aimed quickly and fired, the bullet shattering the mans kneecap, unfortunately, the man with the machinegun had pulled the trigger even as he was hit, he had managed to get off three rounds before he fell to the ground. The distance wasn't to great for him to miss entirely, one round grazed his side, another pierced his shoulder and the third hit him just under the collarbone, he could feel it go through his shoulder blade, and come out the other side, he staggered back a few feet, then fell out of the ally, tumbling out into the street, ending up on his back. He was breathing heavily, clinching his teeth against the pain. Suddenly the other two were standing to either side of him, then they started to kick him, his moans and screams could be heard for a short distance in either direction. After a few minutes, he started to loose consciousness, then the kicks stopped, he opened his eyes a bit more to see why, the he saw one man draw a pistol from his pocket, the would-be gunman placed a foot on his injured shoulder, and leaned forward a bit, sending waves of pain through the barely conscious man under him, he then pointed the gun at the man in the red jacket.
"Say good night, Vash the Stampede." He said menacingly.
Vash the Stampede? Who the hell was Vash the Stampede? Oh well, it didn't matter, he would be shot anyway, besides he had no breath to say that he was not this, Vash. He started to close his eyes, waiting for what he knows is to come. Then, all of a sudden, the man above him, was gone, he looked left and right, and saw the guy to his left, on the ground, his gun nowhere in site, but, laying next him was a large object, it looked almost like a cross, but it was wrapped in white cloth and the cloth was kept on by a leather strap. He then look over to his right, and could see a man knocking out his other attacker. Then the man walked over to him, leaned over him, it was easy to tell he was a priest.
"Are you ok kid?" He could barely hear his savior, he seemed to sound far off, almost like a whisper, then the tormented man finally lost consciousness, and fell into a very deep, but far from pleasant sleep.
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Whew that was fun eh? Hoped you guys like it, please review, but be nice, it was my first attempt at a fic, and please, no flaming.
I decided to create a Trigun story with a character of my own creation as my star. I had originally planned on not making somebody but instead using Vash as the main char of the story but decided against it, since I have a habit of injuring the main character more than I should and didn't want a bunch of people flaming me for hurting their precious Vash. I am not sure yet where I am going with this story, I just got the idea for this first chapter in a daydream; it was just so vivid I had to write it down, so if anybody has an idea about how to continue the story, please, don't be shy.
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The young man walked slowly down the ally, toward the main street. He wore a white shirt, black pants, along with a bright red jacket across his back was slung a rifle with a huge site. The bar he had been in a few seconds earlier had gotten a bit to rowdy, so he had decided to leave. He heard the door open and close again behind him, figured others were getting away from the fight inside. But soon he was proved wrong as he heard the all-to-familiar sound of a machinegun being cocked, he tried to ignore it and keep moving, but soon was halted as the man behind him shouted something, he couldn't tell what the man said because he was quite a distance away, practically out of the ally actually, but it sounded like the man had said halt, then something unintelligible, maybe a name, no, it was to long to be a name. He stopped in his tracks and turned slowly, there was three of them, this wasn't a good sign, he could take one, maybe two, but not three, he saw that only one of them men actually had a gun pointed at him, the other to had theirs pointed at the ground at their feet, maybe if he surprised them, no, he didn't want to rush things, maybe their could be some diplomatic solution to this, but then he noticed the man with the gun pointed at him to start to tense up, like he was preparing to fire, so he was forced into action. He dropped to one knee, his rifle suddenly in his hands, he aimed quickly and fired, the bullet shattering the mans kneecap, unfortunately, the man with the machinegun had pulled the trigger even as he was hit, he had managed to get off three rounds before he fell to the ground. The distance wasn't to great for him to miss entirely, one round grazed his side, another pierced his shoulder and the third hit him just under the collarbone, he could feel it go through his shoulder blade, and come out the other side, he staggered back a few feet, then fell out of the ally, tumbling out into the street, ending up on his back. He was breathing heavily, clinching his teeth against the pain. Suddenly the other two were standing to either side of him, then they started to kick him, his moans and screams could be heard for a short distance in either direction. After a few minutes, he started to loose consciousness, then the kicks stopped, he opened his eyes a bit more to see why, the he saw one man draw a pistol from his pocket, the would-be gunman placed a foot on his injured shoulder, and leaned forward a bit, sending waves of pain through the barely conscious man under him, he then pointed the gun at the man in the red jacket.
"Say good night, Vash the Stampede." He said menacingly.
Vash the Stampede? Who the hell was Vash the Stampede? Oh well, it didn't matter, he would be shot anyway, besides he had no breath to say that he was not this, Vash. He started to close his eyes, waiting for what he knows is to come. Then, all of a sudden, the man above him, was gone, he looked left and right, and saw the guy to his left, on the ground, his gun nowhere in site, but, laying next him was a large object, it looked almost like a cross, but it was wrapped in white cloth and the cloth was kept on by a leather strap. He then look over to his right, and could see a man knocking out his other attacker. Then the man walked over to him, leaned over him, it was easy to tell he was a priest.
"Are you ok kid?" He could barely hear his savior, he seemed to sound far off, almost like a whisper, then the tormented man finally lost consciousness, and fell into a very deep, but far from pleasant sleep.
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Whew that was fun eh? Hoped you guys like it, please review, but be nice, it was my first attempt at a fic, and please, no flaming.