Author's Note: Discontinued as of 6/3/12
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters except one of the OCs.
Prologue
The sound of a bullet getting shot shattered the soft silence that had resided on the area. The morning wasn't really hot, but comfortable. The metal bullet shot through the air, before hitting another gun. That unmistakable sound of a bullet hitting metal rang out, causing the birds to fly off in fright.
Clank!
The crushed bullets hit the ground as the world came into focus, things starting to come together. Fresh, green grass shot up into the air as boots dug it out of the ground prematurely, the morning dew making the cut blades glisten as it rained down to earth, only to die.
No one felt bad for the now disembodied grass, the morning dew making it slick anyway. Two people stared each other down, guns in hand. This didn't mean anything, of course... The barrels of the guns shone in the rays of the morning sun, neither letting the other get a chance. In an instant, they were gone again, leaving no trace of their position or where they were. Another gun shot, but from where? When one composed themselves, the other shooter had moved.
It was a deadly game, a dangerous dance, and one mis-step could mean utter disaster that couldn't be recovered. Each watched the other with deadly precision, not letting the other player get the upper hand. It was a game of life... A game of chance. There was only a second to be able to fire, and that was the only opportunity.
Soon enough, the two players would meet each other, guns flaring, hues blazing. Each would make it out unscratched, or that was the assumption. Though, as the game played out, the movements became sluggish as fatigue set in, taking over each body, not allowing it to perform as each wished.
"I'm tired... Of playing around..." One of the contestants spoke, stepping out into the light from under the shadows of the trees. His breathing was harsh as he tried to get air into his oxygen-starved lungs. Beads of sweat ran down his tattooed features, the light catching the drops and helping to illuminate the thin face. Though, this player had two guns, he only held one, being fair. "Lets end this..."
The other nodded, jumping down from a tree, his black gun, with the roman numeral thirteen engraved into the metal, held up. One could tell, he too... Was at his limit.
"One bullet. We fire at the same time. Who ever lives, wins..." The demon continued, the sound of hammers being drawn back rang out, before the click of the trigger, and the hammer smashing into the main of the gun, the gun powder alighting. The bullets shot out, screeching through the air. The winner... Unknown.