Devil Of The Night: Truth and Reconciliation
This story is about breaking limits, and a man who went through
too much when he was too young. He is constantly striving for
perfection, but finds that he has much to learn. Inspired by animes such as Hellsing, Trigun, and oddly enough, Blue Gender.
Chapter 1: The Old New
Agent 171 stood still and calm smiling slightly, looking in turn to each of the five men aiming their Berettas at his chest and head. One of the men, the nearest and the farthest to his left, pointed his own heavy, high-powered, custom pistol at him. He straightened his black tie and absent-mindedly fiddled with his black gloves. His blue shirt consisted of two rows of buttons and long sleeves and an unbuttoned collar. His pants were black with a nice black belt, and black, polished dress shoes.
The scruffiest man, who stood in front of him, spoke first, with a smirk on his sarcastic and disrespectful face and was clearly the leader of the group. He gloved his right hand and aimed at him again, apparently disliking his knack for untidy blue hair. He pointed in each could-be-fatal points of his body each in turn. "Give us one reason why we shouldn't rip apart your body with our bullets."
He smiled. "Some people don't need bullets to tear someone's body apart. Besides, I'm surprised. I would have thought your lazy type to vacation, gamble, drink, and screw, the last moment of your life…away."
He turned to the scruffy man nearest to him holding his gun. The light, steady up until now, started flickering, then turned into a strobe affect of light, and then dimmed to nothing. I love working in the dark he thought. He leapt, knocked his gun out of the man's hands and into the air, as he turned his leg horizontal and withdrawn, his knee making contact with the man's face and smashing it into the wall behind him, cracking open his head and splashing blood onto the wall behind his head. He pushed his foot onto the wall and sprang off of it, crossing to the other side of the hallway, catching his pistol as his right foot made contact with another man's skull, crushing it against the other wall and splashing blood on it from the back of his head. He pushed off of that wall again, landing on the other wall once again. That splash of red on each wall really adds to the décor of this hall he thought. He ran along on the wall, turning back to fire two rounds from his pistol, each piercing a different skull as the light began to strobe again, and went back to a steady flow of light as he escaped the compound, passing rooms with racks upon racks of various weapons.
Once he was outside, he ran towards the cliff at the back of the building. As he was running towards it, his mind seemed to tingle, and he turned around and back-flipped just in time to avoid a carefully aimed sniper shot. Halfway through his back-flip, while his hands were on the ground, he found an abandoned pistol from a previously disposed of body, and grabbed it up, finishing his flip and sending two rounds through the heads of both of the rooftop snipers. Tossing aside the pistol, he leapt from the cliff.
He pulled out a board, unfolded it, and locked his feet into it, falling until he landed on the slope, sliding down fast, avoiding the small rocks and jumping of the bigger ones. Finally the ground leveled, and he hastily took of the board and stepped into the cargo truck, closing the doors as it sped off.
The two men in the cab of the truck laughed and grinned as they drove the truck down the interstate, the day turning into the night rapidly. "He'll be pleased with us" the driver said. "We didn't even have to shoot him! It's about time I got a raise." Quietly the man in the passenger seat slumped over, his head resting on dashboard. The driver glanced over at him. "Come on Ern, this is no time to sleep, we've still got at least an hour of driving ahead of us, maybe more if this traffic doesn't let up."
He glanced over at him again and yelled, watching as blood poured onto the floor and dashboard from Ern's mouth, nose, eyes, and forehead.
Click
He turned his head to the left, and out the open driver's door window to see what had made the loud clicking noise. He found himself standing down the barrel of a large handgun…he had no time to yell. He watched as the bullet cracked through the air as it broke the sound barrier, lighting up his face briefly before the bullet plummeted into his forehead. The tumbling bullet ripped through his head sending a stream of blood and chunks of his head and brain out of the passenger window and splattering a sign.
Agent 171 was crouching on the roof of the truck cab. Leaning over the edge, he saw the driver's combat vest, which contained a grenade near the left breast. He pulled the pin and leapt from the truck landing on top of the truck in front of him. He spotted a bridge above the interstate where a second extraction truck was parked. He turned around and saw a sniper firing from atop another truck behind them, having followed them from the compound. As the bullet flew towards him he took careful aim with his pistol, and fired two rounds. The first round sent the bullet spinning, and the second one made contact with the back of the bullet, sending it flying back to the sniper and tearing through his chest. 171 holstered his handgun and leapt onto the bridge, grabbed onto the inside handle of a door to the back of the extraction truck, and swung himself him, closing the door. The truck sped off to headquarters.