Darkness lay over the town. Even the brightness of the moons could not lighten the grasp that night had on it. It was as if a shadow had descended from some dark place, unknown to any living mortal. All of the buildings were unlit, save one, where light shown from the first story windows, fighting the shadow for a chance to shine in the dark night. The murmur of voices and quiet laughter seeped from the cracks in the doors and windows, the people inside talking and laughing about little, petty things that they deemed important in their small world. They're blind, conceited. They only care about themselves.

Something within the night's shadow moved. It moved with slow, sure steps towards the door of the building. As it passed the windows, a ray of light illuminated it for what it was.

A man in a red coat.

In one swift motion he grasped the handle, turned it, and threw open the door.

The sound of the door slamming against the wall was the only warning the people had of the coming danger. They looked towards the door just in time to see the silver gun in the man's hand before they saw nothing.

The sound of gunfire awakened a young woman sleeping restlessly in a hotel down the street. She shot up in bed, her eyes vainly tried to adjust to the oppressive darkness. She listened intently as more shots went off. Then she heard the cry go up in the night.

"It's Vash the Stampede!"

The girl's eyes went wide in the dark. She threw herself out of bed and raced out of her room. She could see other people milling around in confusion, opening doors and whispering in fright. She raced around them and out of the building.

It can't be...

The man stared down at the bodies in the street, soaking the dark sand with blood. His lips twitched into a smile, his eyes hidden behind the lenses of his sunglasses, unnecessary in the dark night except for his own purposes. He stood, illuminated by the light of the windows. He could feel the eyes of the townspeople upon him as they hid in the shadows. He spun around towards the darkness, putting his gun away. That is enough for now. I will let the rest live with what they have witnessed here. He felt the witnesses of his slaughter recoil as he passed by them. Looking down the street, he noticed a man standing in his way. The darkness had enveloped him so much, it was impossible to make out who he was. The murderer stopped about ten feet in front of the man. He sensed the other townspeople forming a loose circle around him. The man blocking his way was the first to speak.

"I have you now. You won't be able to get away this time." He was trembling with rage. The murderer's eyes squinted into a frown behind his round frames. Who is this man? Then he noticed the gun in his opposition's hand.

"Are you crazy!?" Another male voice said furiously. "Don't you know who that is!?"

"Of course I do," said the man with the gun, keeping eye contact with the killer in front of him. "He's that bastard Vash the Stampede, the Humanoid Typhoon."

The man known as Vash smiled again. Hearing that accusation always thrilled him. He was opening his mouth to respond.

"That's not him."Yet another voice, confident and clear, rang in the air.

Vash's eye's widened in shock at these words. Who would accuse him of that? Who would know...?

He turned around to meet the gaze of the one who had spoken. She stood inside the circle of onlookers, yet still hidden by the night's dark obscurity. She was short in stature, and by the sound of the voice was a young woman.

"What?" said the other man. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

"I mean that this man is not Vash the Stampede." The woman's voice was unwavering.

"How could you possibly know that? He fits the description perfectly!"

"So?" The young woman's voice became suddenly quieter. "I know Vash, this is definitely not him."

Vash looked down at this woman in astonishment. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. How can she know...? Silently, he collected himself; then he spoke.

"How do you know that I am not Vash the Stampede?" His voice was clear and opposing; a few weaker souls watching cowered back. Yet the woman he was addressing did not flinch away. She raised her eyes from the ground and met his cold gaze with hers.

"You didn't recognize me."

The man called Vash the Stampede let out a chilling laugh. "What makes you think that a murderous outlawwould care enough to recognize you?"

The woman's face flushed lightly. "I didn't say that. Vash knew me well enough to make some reaction to seeing me." She let her head drop again. "I know you're not Vash, but I have to ask you." She looked into his eyes again, and in a clear voice asked, "Were you the one who destroyed December?"

He smiled coldly. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am."

The young woman's face was hidden as she looked at her feet, yet he could feel the anger coming from her. Her fists were clenched and shaking.

"Why?" Her voice was wavering with her anger.

"Why not? It was just a giant gathering place for inconsiderate, arrogant people. It didn't deserve to exist. You should have expected someone like Vash the Stampede to destroy it someday."

The young woman was shaking with rage. A silent drop of moisture fell from her down-turned cheek and onto the parched earth.

"Don't say that." Her voice was a choked, almost inaudible whisper.

"What?" Vash asked sharply.

"I said don't say that!" Her sudden emotional outburst startled both the crowd and the man standing in front of her. "You're not Vash! You're not! You're just an imposter!"

In a flash the man called Vash whipped out his silver gun and pointed it at the hysterical woman. She fell silent, yet did not move. He held the gun pointed at her for what seemed like an eternity before finally lowering it. He turned to leave.

"I wouldn't go looking for him if I were you." He paused to see if she would respond, then continued. "You'll never find him. He's hiding, like the worthless coward he is." And with that, he broke though the circle of bystanders and headed out of town. As the people watched, a sudden strong wind blew up sand, hiding him from view, and when it subsided he was gone from sight.

The crowd around her began to whisper among themselves in confusion and fear. The young woman stood, her head bowed toward the ground and her fists clenched, shaking with rage.

"You're the coward."

Btw, I don't own Trigun. Just thought I should mention that so I don't get sued. And I promise you, this gets better (there's a lil more info in my bio) so review and I will put you on my "Cool People" list... ;-P