I do not own Cowboy Bebop in anyway. If I was, I wouldn't be writing this
fanfic anyway.
Hope you people like this. I trying to experiment with different styles of story construction, and I've been a fan of the film 'Memento', and hopefully, adapt the style into this fanfic.
The following final four words I want to say to people who are devoting their time to read this story.
Hope you like it.
Anyway. onto the story
--------------------------------------- Vade-Mecum By Bubs411 Prologue - 'I'm going upstairs' ---------------------------------------
"They were all dead. The final gunshot was an exclamation mark to everything that led to this point. I released my finger from the trigger -- and then it was all over."
- Max Payne
----------------------------------------
'Bang!'
Spike's last words were echoing, as the night sky reigned on his concrete grave. Nothing was in reason to why Spike sacrificed his life to Vicious, and why he exactly blindly struck the syndicate without the proper artillery. Two handguns, a bunch of 'pinecone' grenades and some remote controlled plastic explosives. Any man who actually betted him to win, would suffer great disappointment.
But he did it, nonetheless.
Some said it for atonement, redemption, but they mainly focused on avenging. Julia was dead, and there was nothing that Spike could do. Maybe he could turn back time, and simply hand her a flak jacket before THAT event. But no, Time Travel will not be invented, for at LEAST a couple of Aeons. Traveling in a speed of light was one thing, but freeze-framing THE climax, was nearly impossible.
The wind blazed as the Hammerhead hovered near the exhausted body. Jet looked on to the corpse, and gave a complete deep sigh. He gripped the steering handles in frustration, and grinded his teeth on Spike's sacrifice. He looked onwards towards the stunned faces of the syndicate goons, and then turned his chin towards Spike's body.
"You still owe me 500," Jet complained.
================================== ------------------------------------------------------------
One word could define the way I'm feeling right now, and that word is, WHOA.
Waking up in bandages, mummified like a. er. mummy just bring out memories I wanted to forget. I didn't do one of those. movie actions where you wake up like a jackrabbit, a myriad of worries flowing through your head. My eyes barely moved, and my legs ached. period. I've must've Bruce Lee someone thousand times or something.
Jesus, my balls are sore.
But my instincts to keep it cool, and besides, my waist down was paralyzed. I tried to sigh, but I ended up fogging my constricted face. OW! Shit, the alcohol is still kicking in. Oh. man, my torso felt like I was carved up with a rusty scalpel,
"You know what Spike? That was a close call."
I assumed it was something that I did. Anyways, I woke up in a humming room. The humming explained that we were in space, or either someone needed all the quarters for their clothes. My Jericho 941, was neatly placed on the coffee table. The magazine was missing, which was the first thing to do if you invite strangers to your homes. I quietly looked up, and saw him.
The Black Dog himself.
"So. this is what you call a welcome reception?" I mumbled out.
He had the gun, and I was tied in bandages. Making smart and smug comments was the first thing in my 'to do' list. Of course, Jet was in his regular attire, the ISSP uniform. The cybernetic arm explained a lot, including the massive bruise I had still from 3 days.
"The deal Spike, is it still available?" Jet asked.
Oh yes the deal.
"My balls hurts."
================================= ----------------------------------------------------------
"What! He's whacked?" Faye eagerly questioned.
"Yep, he took down Vicious and some of his men too," Jet replied.
"Oh great! Now, I'm stuck with you," Faye complained.
Jet sighed, as this tidbit of information, completely changed their lives to a different beat. Spike was the fighter, the soloist in the group. Mentioning the rescuing of Jet and Faye by Spike completely destroyed their hopes of becoming regular Bounty Hunters. Now with Ed and Ein gone, the crew was significantly shortened, but the money was split into a simple 50- 50. Always look on the bright side of life, or some other crap like that.
Oh man, Jet thought, it's gonna be a Loooonnnnggg era with Faye.
------------------------------------------------------------
The whole =- line is basically Spike's flashback, as it goes backwards, instead of forwards. You'll understand the story, more and more, when more chapters are put up.
Summing everything in 5 words, I hoped your liked it.
If you have any fanmail or flamemails, please, go shove them up your asses, and send them to loki3seven@hotmail.com
Hope you people like this. I trying to experiment with different styles of story construction, and I've been a fan of the film 'Memento', and hopefully, adapt the style into this fanfic.
The following final four words I want to say to people who are devoting their time to read this story.
Hope you like it.
Anyway. onto the story
--------------------------------------- Vade-Mecum By Bubs411 Prologue - 'I'm going upstairs' ---------------------------------------
"They were all dead. The final gunshot was an exclamation mark to everything that led to this point. I released my finger from the trigger -- and then it was all over."
- Max Payne
----------------------------------------
'Bang!'
Spike's last words were echoing, as the night sky reigned on his concrete grave. Nothing was in reason to why Spike sacrificed his life to Vicious, and why he exactly blindly struck the syndicate without the proper artillery. Two handguns, a bunch of 'pinecone' grenades and some remote controlled plastic explosives. Any man who actually betted him to win, would suffer great disappointment.
But he did it, nonetheless.
Some said it for atonement, redemption, but they mainly focused on avenging. Julia was dead, and there was nothing that Spike could do. Maybe he could turn back time, and simply hand her a flak jacket before THAT event. But no, Time Travel will not be invented, for at LEAST a couple of Aeons. Traveling in a speed of light was one thing, but freeze-framing THE climax, was nearly impossible.
The wind blazed as the Hammerhead hovered near the exhausted body. Jet looked on to the corpse, and gave a complete deep sigh. He gripped the steering handles in frustration, and grinded his teeth on Spike's sacrifice. He looked onwards towards the stunned faces of the syndicate goons, and then turned his chin towards Spike's body.
"You still owe me 500," Jet complained.
================================== ------------------------------------------------------------
One word could define the way I'm feeling right now, and that word is, WHOA.
Waking up in bandages, mummified like a. er. mummy just bring out memories I wanted to forget. I didn't do one of those. movie actions where you wake up like a jackrabbit, a myriad of worries flowing through your head. My eyes barely moved, and my legs ached. period. I've must've Bruce Lee someone thousand times or something.
Jesus, my balls are sore.
But my instincts to keep it cool, and besides, my waist down was paralyzed. I tried to sigh, but I ended up fogging my constricted face. OW! Shit, the alcohol is still kicking in. Oh. man, my torso felt like I was carved up with a rusty scalpel,
"You know what Spike? That was a close call."
I assumed it was something that I did. Anyways, I woke up in a humming room. The humming explained that we were in space, or either someone needed all the quarters for their clothes. My Jericho 941, was neatly placed on the coffee table. The magazine was missing, which was the first thing to do if you invite strangers to your homes. I quietly looked up, and saw him.
The Black Dog himself.
"So. this is what you call a welcome reception?" I mumbled out.
He had the gun, and I was tied in bandages. Making smart and smug comments was the first thing in my 'to do' list. Of course, Jet was in his regular attire, the ISSP uniform. The cybernetic arm explained a lot, including the massive bruise I had still from 3 days.
"The deal Spike, is it still available?" Jet asked.
Oh yes the deal.
"My balls hurts."
================================= ----------------------------------------------------------
"What! He's whacked?" Faye eagerly questioned.
"Yep, he took down Vicious and some of his men too," Jet replied.
"Oh great! Now, I'm stuck with you," Faye complained.
Jet sighed, as this tidbit of information, completely changed their lives to a different beat. Spike was the fighter, the soloist in the group. Mentioning the rescuing of Jet and Faye by Spike completely destroyed their hopes of becoming regular Bounty Hunters. Now with Ed and Ein gone, the crew was significantly shortened, but the money was split into a simple 50- 50. Always look on the bright side of life, or some other crap like that.
Oh man, Jet thought, it's gonna be a Loooonnnnggg era with Faye.
------------------------------------------------------------
The whole =- line is basically Spike's flashback, as it goes backwards, instead of forwards. You'll understand the story, more and more, when more chapters are put up.
Summing everything in 5 words, I hoped your liked it.
If you have any fanmail or flamemails, please, go shove them up your asses, and send them to loki3seven@hotmail.com