Disclaimer: I don't really understand the point of these. If a copyright holder wants to sue you for some reason, I doubt that this disclaimer would stop them. Regardless, I don't own anything One Piece related. The rights to the series and characters belong to some guy named Oda :)

Viccy's eyes snapped open at the smell of sizzling bacon, which was his one true weakness. If you didn't count cockroaches and angry cowboys at least. And the early morning sun that was currently searing his retinas. After a hasty curse and a few seconds spent blinking the light from his eyes, he stood up and trudged blearily to the bathroom, making sure to stub his toes on every single fixed object in the room along the way.

As he finished his morning routine, he peeled away the band-aid on his forehead and inspected the wound in the mirror. He grimaced as he remembered the heavy kick that had put it there. His sparring partner hadn't held back, and he cursed himself for insisting that they didn't. It had mostly healed, so he decided not to cover it up again.

Mama Carver's cheerful humming traveled over the sound of crackling bacon as he made his way to the kitchen and sat down at the table.

"Buenos dias Vicente," she said as she bustled around the room. "Your dad'll be in North Carolina this weekend, so he left you some things he wants you to take care of."

"Oh boy..." Viccy thought to himself as he poured himself some orange juice.

"He wants you to get the yard work done and change the spark plugs on the truck."

"That's not too much of a hassle," he thought.

"Clean out his gun cabinet."

"Sweet."

"Go to Mr. Johnson's house and take care of a little favor we owe him."

"Ugh. That's a pain."

"And he wants you to take Demonio out for a walk this morning."

"I see..."

Viccy suddenly began choking on his orange juice.

"WUUUAAAT!?" He hacked out between coughing fits.

"Calm down," his mother said. "No matter what you say, he's just a dog. Besides, you know how your father is."

He definitely did know how his father was. Old Man Carver was a massive man with an equally massive heart, rivaled only by his massive gun collection. Nonetheless, he demanded nothing but strict obedience from his only son. While he had never actually laid a hand on Viccy, the man's stoic disappointment always hurt a lot more than any belt or birch could.

"What'll it take to make you tell him that I did it, but like... without me actually doing it," Viccy said.

"Well, I do need a new pair of shoes for the office party..." She paused for a moment and pondered the thought. "But it's still a ways off. I can just ask your father to pick some up on his way home. You're actually going to have to do it this time around, Hombrecito."

"Ma..." Viccy begged, attempting to give her the puppy eyes.

"That hasn't worked since you were 10. Take the mutt out, stroll him around the nature preserve, and come back. Make sure you avoid eye contact and you'll be fine."

And that was the end of the conversation. His mother set a plate of eggs and bacon in front of him, tousling his mop of unruly black hair as she left to start her own day.

As Viccy sat there, munching on pork and pondering the reality of his own mortality, his mind wandered to the Japanese soldiers in the Second World War who were selected as kamikazes. He wondered what was going through their minds as they strapped dynamite to their chests and flung themselves at American tanks. Did they do so willingly, without a doubt in their mind as to the righteousness of their actions? Did they do it because the only other option was dishonor on them, their whole family, and their cow?

He scowled and shook his wandering mind back to the problem at hand.

Demonio. Old Man Carver's wiener dog. Flashes from memories Viccy had done his best to suppress flickered through his mind. Gleaming teeth ripping apart his favorite stuffed zebra. Rippling back muscles straining to drag a savaged deer carcass across the yard. Shiny, jet black eyes staring at him through the porch window during evenings when he was home alone. He shuddered as his brain shut down in self-defense for several seconds, refusing to bring up even worse memories.

"This is going to end even worse than the Stone Mountain cowboy incident..." he thought.

There are things in this life that nobody should have to experience. Things that should never be spoken of, even in passing. When slightly less Old Man Carver had brought a little dog home 12 years ago, young Viccy couldn't have been more excited. What 5-year-old wouldn't be? But as he made eye contact with that puppy, chills raced down his spine.

They were blank. Emotionless. They held absolutely none of the joy and love of life a puppy's eyes should hold. Viccy thought then that whatever was living behind that dog's eyes was nothing short of evil.

And as he looked upon the overgrown wiener dog in the present day, its head almost reaching to his waist, he knew that his fate was now in its wet, drooling maw. This dog would decide his very existence.

He clutched at the golden cross necklace he had hidden under his shirt.

"Hey there, buddy. I'm just going to put this leash on you. Alright?" Viccy whispered as he began his approach.

The dog obviously said nothing. He stood there, staring at Viccy as he awkwardly shuffled forwards; his eyes were trained on the ground and sweat dripped from his forehead. The dog allowed Viccy to snap on the steel clasp, before suddenly giving off his strange bark.

"Aroo!"

Viccy didn't consider himself a coward under any circumstance, but he would have sprinted away and hopped the fence right then and there, had his knees not been trembling. After a few seconds passed, Demonio began walking towards the gate, and Viccy was forcibly dragged behind him.

He could have sworn he heard the dog make an odd chuckling sound as it crossed the threshold.

Viccy's eyes took in the sign in front of him. Red's Memorial Nature Preserve. Sprawling and in some parts overgrown, this preserve had been there longer than his town itself had. Signs were posted at the entrance warning people not to venture in too far, else they get lost. Viccy sighed nervously as he stepped off of the concrete paths and onto the dirt trails.

10 minutes passed, and it had been going well. Viccy hadn't made eye contact, and the dog had mostly ignored his presence as he went about his business.

I'm sure you've heard the saying "Little things make big things happen." The harbinger of our Viccy's big journey was but a little pebble. A pebble that had made its way into his shoe.

He struggled along behind Demonio, not daring to stop the dog and take the pebble out. This continued for several minutes, and by the end, Viccy was sure that the sadistic bastard knew about the pain he was in and was prolonging it on purpose.

As the dog finally stopped and squatted in the brush to do his business, Viccy scrambled to extract the little rock before the mutt got moving again. It took a bit of finagling, but he managed.

Viccy looked back up, triumph written all over his face. The cocky grin disappeared immediately as he stared at the remains of what used to be a chrome steel chain leash, one end still clasped tightly in his hand. Where Demonio had been moments earlier, only a small pile of dog excrement and a few broken links remained.

Thoughts began to race through Viccy's mind.

"How did he break that chain?"

"I wonder what I can tell my dad?"

"Doesn't this mean I can finally sleep easy at night?"

His thoughts were broken off as he heard a noise coming from some distance away, and Viccy realized his mistake immediately.

Normally, if a dog escaped custody, they ran. It didn't matter why and it didn't matter where. They just did. But this dog wasn't normal...

The noises were now close enough to make out. As slow and steady as a steam engine, the sounds of "Aroo... Aroo... Aroo...", steadily drew closer. Memories began to flash through Viccy's mind again.

His first viewing of Jackie Chan's "Wheels on Meals" which had instilled in him a love of action cinematography and martial arts.

Him getting his ass handed to him in his very first karate tournament match by some kid that was already being labeled as a prodigy. That one had knocked him down a few pegs. He knew that he used to be a narcissistic little bastard. None of the other kids in his school could beat him, and nothing anybody else did was ever good enough to warrant his approval. He had thought he was on top of the world, and he never passed up a chance to tell anyone. But like everyone else, there came a time when he realized that there's always a madder dog.

He had taken the loss hard, which led to his mother gifting him his cross necklace. It had been passed down in her family for two centuries, and while he wasn't particularly religious, Viccy would treasure that necklace to his dying day. All heroes had some kind of object that they placed sentimental value in, after all. It was pretty much required if you wanted to be a badass. He came out of his funk better than ever. Unfortunately, due to his previous attitude, it wasn't really possible to make friends with the other kids anymore. So from then on, he stood quiet and watched. Adults hardly ever called attention to him, and because he wasn't exactly on the small side thanks to his father, the other kids never bothered him either.

His second karate tournament, where he'd managed to make it to the semi-finals before losing to the same prodigy from the first time, a cocky smirk planted on the kid's face that hadn't been there during their first fight. He had reminded Viccy of himself, before his first loss.

His first and only crush back in kindergarten, whose face and name he had forgotten. Did it start with a K?

As he snapped out of his trance, Viccy noticed that the demonic barks had stopped. Relief flooded his system for a moment before he realized that the chirping of the birds, the chattering of the squirrels, and even the swishing of the leaves in the wind were also missing. Everything was absolutely still.

Viccy could tell that an event that couldn't be explained by Science was fast approaching. So he did what any sane man would have done. He ran. It didn't matter much where he was going, simply that he was going away from there.

He didn't know how long he ran, but he went farther into that nature preserve than he'd ever gone in his life. Eventually, he came across an old rickety rope bridge overlooking a pathetic little ravine with a pathetic little river running through it. The river was barely more than a stream really.

"How cliché can you get?" he thought.

He looked over the edge. It was at least a 3 story drop, and he knew from every movie he had ever seen involving rope bridges that attempting to cross them in a crisis was an awful idea. So he turned around to find another way.

And there he was. Staring at Viccy with those expressionless eyes. The eyes of a killer. They promised nothing. They took no joy in suffering, but they took no joy in anything else either. Inside those orbs, Viccy saw the very Gates of Hell, and they were wide open. Viccy clutched his cross necklace in his hand, momentarily wondering if he could attempt to ward Demonio off with it.

He stood and stared, neither one making a move. How long did the stalemate last? It could have been moments for all Viccy knew, but the demon dog eventually began to grow restless.

The dog took a step forward. Viccy took a step back. The dog took another step forward. Viccy took another step back. Viccy continued shuffling backward until he was near the middle of the bridge. His sense of danger began to tingle much too late.

"Dear God no..." he thought.

A resounding crack pierced the otherwise silent ravine.

"Son of a bi-"

His thoughts were cut off as the plank under him gave way, and he tumbled through the air.

The rest of his life flashed before his eyes. The class dartboard getting picked on in middle school as he just sat and watched, unwilling to stick his neck out. Little Viccy clutching his cross necklace as he began the first match of his second karate tournament. His father carrying him home on his shoulders after his second loss to the prodigy kid.

As the ground got closer and closer, one final thought ran its course.

"It was a decent 17 years I guess. Could have been a lot worse."

And as everything went black, Viccy heard one final triumphant "Aroo!" from Demonio. Oddly enough, it didn't sound very malignant.

Whoooosh.

"Am I dead?"

Whoooosh.

"I'm dead, aren't I?"

Whoooosh.

"Hmm. Looks like Ma was wrong after all. I'm not seeing any pearly gates."

Whoooosh.

"What the hell is that noise!?"

Whoooosh.

"Hey, kid. You alright?" said a new voice.

Whoooosh.

"What? Who are you?"

Whoooosh.

"Wake up!" said the voice.

Whoooosh.

"Wake up from what, Disembodied Voice?"

Suddenly the voice was loud enough to rattle his brain cage. "WAKE UP YOU LITTLE SHIT!"

Viccy's eyes snapped open as his mind began to race yet again.

"Where am I?"

"Why is everything upside down?"

"What the hell is wrong with my ankle?"

The whooshing sound was still present, and he realized that it had to be from the blood rushing through his head. Viccy looked down, or was it up? He was hanging by his ankle in a tree. And the ravine and the suspension bridge were nowhere to be found.

"Ok then..." he thought.

"Ha. I knew you were alive." A nearby voice chimed merrily.

Viccy slowly turned his head left, or was it right? Standing there with their face not six inches away from his, was a muscular man in traveling cloak. He had olive skin, beady eyes currently crinkled in a smirk, and a mess of poofy black hair flowing down the back of his head. His face had been savaged at some point by an animal. One with very big claws if the scars were any indication. Viccy would have pinned him to be in his thirties. These features alone would have made for a unique looking man, but his most noticeable feature by far was his nose. At least three inches long, and crooked, as if it had been broken several times.

"You feel alright, kid?" the man asked.

"wuuuuhh?" Viccy said intelligently.

The man's smirk grew larger, and Viccy's danger senses began tingling again. He watched as the man lifted his foot.

"Son of a bi-"

His thoughts were cut off as the man kicked the tree, causing Viccy to tumble out and fall 6 feet onto his face. His mind blanked out from the pain, and he could have sworn that he saw his shoes dip into the top of his vision for a moment.

Viccy scrambled to his feet, yelling out curses to the damned Long Nose and everything he'd ever loved. The man just stood there for the entire tirade holding his sides and laughing uproariously.

Viccy finally had to stop and catch his breath, and as the man's manic laughter faded into chuckles, he took the opportunity to ask. "Where am I anyway? And who are you?"

"You don't even know where you are?" The man asked after the chuckles finally faded. "You're on Zapacata Island in the South Blue. I'm Usopp. I'm pretty famous, so feel free to gape and stare in shock."

Viccy gaped and stared in shock.

Here's my first attempt at Illustration. Just copy it into the browser thingy.

deviantart(.com)/art/The-Demon-and-the-Bridge-656461556

Without the parentheses obviously. For some reason, full URLs seem to be a nono

The picture isn't all that decent really, but I only just started drawing a couple of weeks ago. You'll have to put up with my crappy skillz for now, but I promise I'll get better. Hell, this is probably a multiyear, multipart project, but I'll finish it even if it kills me.

I'll do my best to keep to the current canon, but it will more than likely contradict it pretty heavily by the end.

Til next time guys.