Disclaimer: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin. Just borrowing the character for a bit.
Author's Note: I'm not quite sure where I'm going with this story. All of the characters are waaay out of character, and it's going to probably have lots of angst, and possibly some yaoi, if you guys think it should have it…
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He hadn't meant to kill the police. All of them. In one flash, the entire squadron of police cars and motorcycles that had been chasing after him had just stopped. Looking inside the cars, and on the ground next to the motorcycles, the men seemed as if in sleep. But, truthfully, after he had checked each and every one of the twenty men, they were all dead.
And it was all his fault.
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Kenshin was once again hiding out in an abandoned city building. His tattered red shirt and blue jeans hung from his pale, sunken frame as he peered out of the broken upstairs window. The blood red sun slowly sunk beneath the neon lights flashing through the city. He shivered as a ghostly breeze whistled through the cracks in the walls, and he turned to the corner of the room, where he had balled up different pieces of material he'd found. This served as his bed, and as dirty as it was, it was all the warmth he was going to receive that night. He curled up and tried to sleep, but the day's occurrences kept haunting his dreams.
Kenshin had initially just wanted to grab a loaf of bread from the baker's counters. Yes, he did look a bit suspicious just hanging around, but there was such a bustle in the morning that the man behind the counter barely gave him a glance. Kenshin had successfully snatched a delicious looking muffin, the one closest to him and one that he could shove into one of the pockets in his shirt. He scurried out the door, but at that moment the man decided to look his way once more, and saw Kenshin hugging the muffin to his chest.
"Hey!!! You! Get back here!" He yelled, and grabbed the gun he kept under the counter for just these types of occasions. Nobody stole from Ethan Manwellan and got away with it. Not even a scrawny kid.
Kenshin looked back and saw the gun. And ran. His feet flew on the concrete as the man aimed for his legs. He sneaked a glance backwards and saw the gun jolt in the man's arm. Kenshin shrieked and suddenly the gun fell from the man's hands as he dropped to the ground. Kenshin slowed down as he realized he was unscathed, and turned around to look at the immobile man. He walked back to the man, and suddenly he realized that everyone from the baker's shop was staring at him, eyes wide with disbelief.
He crouched down and felt for the man's pulse at his neck. The boy skidded backwards, his violet eyes shrinking to pinpoints. Convulsions shook the boy's gaunt frame as he backed up against the wall. The silence that had consumed the crowd suddenly was broken as a young woman screamed for an ambulance. Kenshin turned and ran towards the apartment he had been habiting for the past week. But his undernourished body couldn't take the strain and he fell with a gasp to the ground. His knees scraped the ground and his palms hit the concrete with a thud. The boy groaned as pain entered his consciousness.
In the meantime, an ambulance and police car had been summoned, and it was seen that the bullet the man, Ethan Manwellen, had fired was actually lodged into his heart, causing an instantaneous death. They also saw the small figure a few blocks down, fallen to the ground. They put on their sirens and called for assistance, because this little one was dangerous.
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Tears streamed from Kenshin's violet eyes as he tried to get himself off the pavement. He heard the sirens coming from two blocks away and panic entered his system. Suddenly he was up and sprinting towards the apartment. The crowd that had just been standing there watching the boy gasped collectively as he rose and dashed off. The one police car that had arrived gave chase, but Kenshin had a head start, and took the nearest alley into the next street. His heart raced as he tried to think of where he could go, instead of the apartment, because he knew that would just be a dead end. Kenshin remembered that one of his so-called brothers lived about ten blocks down the street, and figured that he could duck in there. He prayed that the police wouldn't turn onto the street before he reached the house.
Unfortunately for him, they poured onto the street from another larger alleyway. Now there were at least fifteen cops in hot pursuit of the small red-haired boy. He gasped as he saw them all chasing towards him, and he turned and ran blindly across the road and onto the next street. Kenshin gasped as his heart felt like it was about to burst, but a mindless need to survive had overtaken him, and he refused to stop and collapse to the ground. He couldn't see anything because of the tears blinding his vision, but he jerked to a stop as he realized that this road only led to a brick wall. Beyond the wall lay the Pacific Ocean, but Kenshin wasn't tall enough or strong enough to get himself over the wall and away from the police. He turned and saw the multitude of police coming too fast towards him.
Suddenly, a blind rage took him over and he screamed and closed his eyes, his fists tightening until blood appeared on his palms. The glass on the police cars shattered, and the motorcycles grinded to a stop, toppling over to lay inert on their sides. The cars slowed to a halt, their engines smoking. Kenshin stopped screaming, his voice now torn and raspy. He slowly opened his eyes. They had turned a deep shade of gold, and with that a feral look had overtaken him.
But, only for a few moments. Exhaustion consumed him and he limply fell to the ground, leaning against the brick wall. As soon as he hit the pavement, he completely lost consciousness, to seemingly join the other men in an endless sleep.
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I really have no idea what I'm gonna do with this…. But comments/ questions/ and even flaming would be appreciated. =)