Hye Gyes. This is my first fanfic and I'd appreciate any feedback so I can keep improving.
I feel like there aren't enough fanfics for certain champs, so my quest is to create decent stories of most of them. This list includes but is not limited to: Sion, Poppy, Volibear, etc etc. Just underplayed champs overall. So leave any suggestion you got, but otherwise enjoy.
"WRONG ANSWER!" a hysterical voice cackled with glee in the dark, shady tunnels of the Bandle City sewers, echoing its maniacal tone off the walls.
The floor was strewn with corpses of victims that had each met a similar fate at the end of a sharp blade. Blood flowed freely from the freshly killed bodies, mingling with the yordle muck that made up the sewage.
In front of a dim candle, a man's form strapped to a chair could be recognized, albeit barely, while another, darker figure loomed in the shadows, holding the man by the collar.
The man was beat up, bruises and cuts marring his face with blood and tears streaking down his neck.
"Please! I don't know anything! I have three daughters, just spare me and I'll give you anything you want!" The man's desperate cry pierced through the symphony of laughter, "anything at all! I'll pay any price as long as you let me live!"
Suddenly, the laughing stopped. There was an eerie silence that seemed to stretch on for almost five minutes, with only the occasional drip of water from the sewer pipes and the man's ragged breathing breaking it.
"Money?" the deranged voice murmured, "I like money. Money is goood. Do you have money?"
"Y-Yes! I have lots and lots of money!" The man feverishly gasped hopefully, his frame ceasing its mad trembling. Maybe I'll live after all, the man thought. "Release me and I'll give it all to you!"
Another silence consumed the dank tunnels.
"Money is good, money gets weapons, " the figure said slowly, raising its arm," but KILLING is so much BETTER don't you think?"
Out of the darkness, an electric blue shiv impaled the man straight in the chest, and the man's screams were drowned out in the crescendo of insane giggling. Blood splattered the dark figure, and when his laughing fit ended, the man stirred no more. Giving one last cackle, the figure disappeared without a trace, leaving only the bodies of the victims to rot in the sewers and a faint echo of jingling bells.
It was a bright, sunny day in the city of Demacia. The grass was green as ever and the sun, as well as numerous rainbows, courtesy of Lux, shone in the sky. The everyday bustle of the marketplace buzzed with children running around and their respective parents following, gently scolding them. The city was in perfect harmony, working as intended, except for one area in the palace.
"That's the third killing this week!" An angry Jarvan IV slammed his hands on the mahogany conference table, cracking it.
Fuming, he paced in front of the counsel, breathing heavily while glaring around the room. No one wanted to be in the way of an angry Jarvan. Not even the Seneschal of Demacia, Xin Zhao, wanted to when he saw the Prince's temper rise.
"It must be those no good Noxian dogs ordering their scum to kill our merchants." the Prince whispered harshly under his breath, "It must be."
"Sire, if I may," a tentative council member piped up, but instantly quieted down when the prince's burning gaze settled on him.
"SILENCE!" he roared as he slammed his fist on the table once more, causing everyone in the room to collectively wince. " I need quiet. MEETING ADJOURNED!"
Everyone quickly shuffled out of the conference hall, not wanted to stay in the crosshairs of Jarvan IV's wrath. When the entire room was empty, save for Xin Zhao standing straight at his side, the prince collapsed into a nearby easy chair, sinking down into the leather cushion.
"What am I to do?" he sighed, face in his hands. "Without our Bandle City trade routes, Demacia's revenues are taking a hit."
"Your Majesty," Xin Zhao's stoic voice spoke up, "if this matter bothers you so greatly, shall I send the Dauntless Vanguard out to solve it?"
"I afraid it really has come to that point." the prince reluctantly agreed, tending to favor diplomacy over violence, unlike the Noxian scoundrels. "Go to Garen and inform him of his mission."
"Right away Sir," Xin Zhao replied, starting for the exit when Jarvan stopped him.
"Also," the prince added, "tell him to be careful not to get caught on this one like he usually does with assassins. The autopsy reports from the coroner indicate that this individual enjoys torturing his victims before the deathblow."
"Understood."
The night was cool and silent on the Tempest Flats. The stars glinted brightly in the clear, dark sky with the occasional breeze gently blowing through the plain. A Noxian regiment was traveling back to Noxus from a campaign of extortion. Forcing little villages on the outskirts of Bandle City to pay for 'protection,' they pillaged claimed the land as their own.
Trudging through the flat land, the Noxians cheered on through the night, recalling their escapade.
"Check out all this loot I got. " One soldier laughed, drunk on ale and satisfaction of a full coin pouch. "I'd say this is about 3 months pay, eh?"
"I don't know, I'm pretty sure mine is hitting 4," another said lazily.
"No way. I definitely have more than you. "
"Keep on dreaming."
"Shut up! Both of you, before I take all your money. " a third man barked.
"Hm?" A fourth grunted.
The commotion filled the air as the regiment continued on, unaware of a slight ring of bells echoing throughout the plain.
"Hold on guys, I gotta piss."
And so one soldier peeled off from the group and started to do his business.
"Hurry up maggot! " the commander, a rather large and burly man boomed from the procession.
"Yes sir!" 'Maggot' hastily replied.
Right after he disappeared from view, a flash of blue embedded itself into a soldier back in the regiment. He was barely able to cry out in pain, grabbing the rest of the Noxian troops' attention, and the body slumped to the ground, covered in freshly spilled red.
Alarm quickly seized the ranks as calls for weapons rang almost instantaneously.
"We're under atta-"
The man was silenced by a shiv to the throat as his comrades jumped in fear, trying to locate the source of the projectile.
One by one, the bodies dropped with the sickening sound of metal sliding through flesh. Surprise soon turned into fear as the soldiers attempted to flee from the invisible assailant. However, they met the same grisly death within seconds.
"Cowards. All of you are COWARDS!" The commander roared, pulling out the large, granite warhammer strapped to his back, "come out here and fight like a warrior! "
Obligingly, a dark figure appeared behind him and stabbed him in the back with two gleaming blades, bells ringing.
"Gah," the commander crumpled in pain. Angered, he whirled around, but his hammer met empty air.
"Fight me face to face you sneak bastard,!" he bellowed, frustrated at his inability to fight back against his elusive enemy.
Suddenly, the mood shifted as the figure appeared in a puff of reddish smoke on top of a pile of cadavers. Unobstructed in the moonlight, the commander saw his adversary clearly for the first time.
It's clothing was rather flashy, a jester costume, half bright orange and half black with checkered pants. It was so flamboyant, in fact that it was a wonder how it managed to camouflage so well. Despite this, what stuck out the most was it's pallid face. Gleaming white with a perpetual smile that spanned from one ear to another, its eyes narrowed maliciously as it opened its mouth.
"Why so... serious? " it cackled as it rushed the commander.
Growling in anger, the commander swung his heavy weapon and slammed it square in the jester's jaw.
The jester flew to the side as it landed in a heap. The commander dashed to him and grabbed the clown by the throat.
"End of the line, joker." The commander snarled as he pulled out a dagger from his belt.
Right as he stabbed the body, it exploded into a burst of shivs, impaling the commander.
Gasping in pain, the dropped his warhammer, attempting to pull out the shivs buried in his arms.
"The joke's on YOU!" the jester snickered as he stepped out from behind the pile of corpses.
Growling, the commander snatched his dagger and charged towards the now dancing jester.
.
"Eat this you piece of shi-" he began to yell when suddenly a box appeared out of no where in front of his warpath.
"BOO!" the little box shrieked as the Jack in the Box popped up, surprising the commander enough for him to stumble back a few steps.
"What the hell is this?" he roared, "this is NOT how a man fights!"
Angered at the distraction, he started to rush the clown once more. As he was about to slash his enemy's neck, the assailant disappeared once more.
"Enough of your schemes!" he howled, grinding his teeth until they made a harsh grating sound.
Confused and growing impatient with the jester's tricks, the commander slashed around him in a wide arc, hoping to locate where his adversary hid.
"Look… behind you," the commander heard as his heart was skewered from the back.
Drawing his last breath, the commander collapsed to his knees and made a vain effort to slash at the joker, but failing.
The last vision he had was of the jester, still maintaining his Cheshire Cat grin, staring down at him.
A brief moment passed until the quiet of the night was broken.
"Too bad I killed everyone. I wanted some… FUN."
Bells jingling merrily, the jester gave one last, scratchy laugh before vanishing from sight.
Finally finished with his potty break, 'Maggot' had returned just in time to see the jester disappear. Gasping in shock, he slowly and warily crept into the graveyard of his previous comrades as soon as he was sure the killer had gone. Despite just finishing his business, he felt a warm liquid running down his trousers.
"What happened. Oh God, What happened," he lamented, starting to shake and vomit uncontrollably. The rest of the night carried on, breezeless and chilling to the bone as silence covered the once lively Tempest Flats.
Thoughts? Reviews are great, but if you have any extremely negative thoughts, explain them in a more reasonable way.
My soul is fragile :O