Planet Gunsmoke: Introduction
By: Liz de Jong
This story takes place before Knives kills off the last relative of Rem, and before he shoots off Vash's arm. So, this is also before Vash meets the insurance girls, or Wolfwood. It is, however, in the timeframe after Vash shoots his brother in one of their first real conflicts, running off to leave Knives, his leg wounded and his secure world no longer perfect.
'Damn, it's dark in here.'
No visible light. Not a single crack in the wall of this abandoned little shack in the middle of nowhere, the warped wood testament to craftsmen of it's day, not even time able to bend it's structure. Not that it would matter if it had... there were no moons to be seen in the dark skies tonight, nothing to illuminate the iles and iles of sand that stretched between here and nowhere.
If he hadn't already known it were here, he would never have been able to find it. His minions had done well.
He seated himself as quietly as possible, his back resting against one of the shack's walls. From his position on the floor, he could just brush each adjacent wall with his fingertips if he strained for it. He did so, feeling the texture of them as though gleaning some information from the world beyond them.
'Not yet. They might still be out there.'
He could wait. He'd waited decades for this very oppertunity to present itself. He could wait an hour or two longer.
He cocked his head to the south; the very faint sound of a vehicle, still far off in the distance. The longer he listened, breathing carefully in check, the more he knew. No, they would not near his little sanctuary... they were already moving away, heading east. Likely towards the nearest town. They did not know this place existed, nor would they bother to truly look.
Smiling to himself, he pulled a large, heavy black gun from it's snug holster at his side, stroking it's angles lovingly, though he could not see it for the mere inches it was from his face. They knew better than to look for him. They had homes to go to. Pointless existances to live. Others to destroy.
Still stroking the weapon, his thoughts drifted to his brother. The fool was with them, wasn't he? He was with these people, this inferior trash, living like them. Thinking like them. Protecting them.
He waited no longer.
He dropped a hand to the floor, sliding it along dusty floorboards until it bumped into something with a faint metallic clang. Running his hands up it's smoothe sides, he determined it's shape... a cube, a cold metal cube. And there, a latch. Lifting it, he ran his fingers along it's contents. Long metallic bumps, row upon row. Hard, cold, deadly.
Knocking open his gun he proceeded to load it, decades of experience guiding his hands in the blinding darkness. It was all here, just as he was assured it would be. All that he really needed.
He locked the loading chamber back into place, satisfied by the loud 'click' in the otherwise silent desert night. Tomorrow was going to be another long day. Another day closer to his goal. His brother would be made to see the way.
'And then, Vash, you and I can finally do what we should... and what we will. Not one single human will be left on this planet to do anything other than rot!'
His laughter, unchecked, stabbed into the darkness of the night, echoing around him on the unadorned walls of that little shack, in the middle of nowhere. No moons showed through the night, and it was very dark.
End Introduction
Hey there! I know I don't own Trigun and such, and you do too! This is just a fanfic for me to keep busy with.... I hope you guys like it! Hee hee... It's one of my first stabs at publication, so if it's bad... have mercy on me.
By: Liz de Jong
This story takes place before Knives kills off the last relative of Rem, and before he shoots off Vash's arm. So, this is also before Vash meets the insurance girls, or Wolfwood. It is, however, in the timeframe after Vash shoots his brother in one of their first real conflicts, running off to leave Knives, his leg wounded and his secure world no longer perfect.
'Damn, it's dark in here.'
No visible light. Not a single crack in the wall of this abandoned little shack in the middle of nowhere, the warped wood testament to craftsmen of it's day, not even time able to bend it's structure. Not that it would matter if it had... there were no moons to be seen in the dark skies tonight, nothing to illuminate the iles and iles of sand that stretched between here and nowhere.
If he hadn't already known it were here, he would never have been able to find it. His minions had done well.
He seated himself as quietly as possible, his back resting against one of the shack's walls. From his position on the floor, he could just brush each adjacent wall with his fingertips if he strained for it. He did so, feeling the texture of them as though gleaning some information from the world beyond them.
'Not yet. They might still be out there.'
He could wait. He'd waited decades for this very oppertunity to present itself. He could wait an hour or two longer.
He cocked his head to the south; the very faint sound of a vehicle, still far off in the distance. The longer he listened, breathing carefully in check, the more he knew. No, they would not near his little sanctuary... they were already moving away, heading east. Likely towards the nearest town. They did not know this place existed, nor would they bother to truly look.
Smiling to himself, he pulled a large, heavy black gun from it's snug holster at his side, stroking it's angles lovingly, though he could not see it for the mere inches it was from his face. They knew better than to look for him. They had homes to go to. Pointless existances to live. Others to destroy.
Still stroking the weapon, his thoughts drifted to his brother. The fool was with them, wasn't he? He was with these people, this inferior trash, living like them. Thinking like them. Protecting them.
He waited no longer.
He dropped a hand to the floor, sliding it along dusty floorboards until it bumped into something with a faint metallic clang. Running his hands up it's smoothe sides, he determined it's shape... a cube, a cold metal cube. And there, a latch. Lifting it, he ran his fingers along it's contents. Long metallic bumps, row upon row. Hard, cold, deadly.
Knocking open his gun he proceeded to load it, decades of experience guiding his hands in the blinding darkness. It was all here, just as he was assured it would be. All that he really needed.
He locked the loading chamber back into place, satisfied by the loud 'click' in the otherwise silent desert night. Tomorrow was going to be another long day. Another day closer to his goal. His brother would be made to see the way.
'And then, Vash, you and I can finally do what we should... and what we will. Not one single human will be left on this planet to do anything other than rot!'
His laughter, unchecked, stabbed into the darkness of the night, echoing around him on the unadorned walls of that little shack, in the middle of nowhere. No moons showed through the night, and it was very dark.
End Introduction
Hey there! I know I don't own Trigun and such, and you do too! This is just a fanfic for me to keep busy with.... I hope you guys like it! Hee hee... It's one of my first stabs at publication, so if it's bad... have mercy on me.