By JessieWrites
Chapter One
After the fall of Deepground, evil still lurked in the shadows. Naturally Avalanche was the planets first choice to eliminate those with black hearts. However, there were some tasks that they were unwilling to perform. Tasks that the Turks, in days long past used to participate in. Mercenaries, murderers, thieves, and monsters they were called because sometimes a life wouldn't be saved, sometimes a comfy jail cell was too good for the bad guys, and sometimes 'suspects' were found blue in a back alley or dumpster.
Avalanche did what they could to clean up the streets. But it seemed an impossible thing to accomplish. For every person they put away, two more were free. Even when someone was caught, with enough money or time, they would be free again. Vigilantes tried their hand too, but all that got them was a cold slab in the morgue.
One person, having fought along side of the other heroes, knew improvement was needed. He decided to 'fix' the problem. Now, the criminals either came along peacefully or, if they resisted, wound up floating in the river or were left 'alive' as examples to their fellow man. He wasn't nearly as blood thirsty as those early Turks, he would never kill unnecessarily, but no one would ever call Vincent Valentine a 'Teddy Bear' either.
He split away from his friends and looked the planet over for an elite group of men and women. He even asked if his former companions wanted to join him, but few times have they participated in this brand of justice. His new group was hand picked from the elite of the elite. Each had exceptional skill in his or her area of expertise. They were steadfast, strong, swift, trustworthy, loyal, and had no families. This group became their family. If one was somehow hurt, the others returned the pain tenfold to the injurer. Where one member of their 'family' was weak, another was strong. Their unit was smooth, cohesive, complimenting each other in every way possible.
They were a very feared and respected group. Those who preyed on others fled at their approach and trembled in their wake. Even those they would call allies stilled in their presence. What gave them away were both their distinct outfits and the very presence that flowed from them. Vincent kept his normal garb and the others wore black leather of various cut and design, custom tailored for maximum movement and minimum noise. Each wore long black overcoats that seemed to sway in the barest of breezes. The undercoat however was not black as the rest; it was a deep red that matched the cape and eyes of their leader. One could find such a coat or have one made anywhere, but the symbol sewn on the left chest was unique in that No One was allowed the same thing lest they suffer the consequences. Their symbol┘ a red VIII .
Many would say that VIII is an unlucky number, but then again that all depends on who its unlucky for. Each person in the group was given a number based on their initiation starting with the first as I and the last as VII . Vincent himself took the VIII. Their name came last of all. They became known as The Valentines, and it was a very unlucky thing indeed if you were the recipient of thirteen Valentines, especially if it wasn't Valentine's Day.
Author's Note: Did you like it? Please review. I need to know if I should continue or not. There will be ass kicking later, I promise. Constructive criticism is welcome.