The Preacherman's "son"
A Trigun fanfiction by Aaron Clark
Please note: I do not own Trigun. (I wish I owned something so damned cool.) All characters, and such are Copyright and TM Yashuhiro Nightow . (Except for Jonah Cross and the staff/kids at the orphanage. those are mine .) You can contact me at Destroyallhumansclownz.com; I'd love your feedback. No without further adieu,
On to The story.........
On a hellishly hot day on the planet Gunsmoke, Milly was making her way into town to buy herself some pudding and a few other things." Hello Mr. Millar!" she said in her usual obnoxiously cheery way. "Hello Miss Milly!' replied the elderly shopkeeper, as he swept the front stoop of his general store "Miss Meryl telephoned ahead to make sure you would get the things you needed, and not 12 sacks of pudding like the last time." He said laughing slightly. "Oh yeah, heh. I almost forgot about that." She replied in a sheepish tone, glancing at the floorboards. "Well, here's your groceries." He said, handing Milly a large bundle. "Be careful, now it's heavy. By the way, I slipped a little something extra in there for you, but don't let Miss Meryl know" He said, chuckling. "Thank you Mr. Millar. See you next week!" She replied, taking the large brown paper bag, which had been carefully tied with twine. As she walked out of the store on her way home she passed a donut shop. 'I wonder when Mr. Vash will be home', she thought to herself. 'Meryl really misses him, but she'll never admit it. She's too proud'. Regardless of Meryl's pride, Milly missed Vash too. His lame jokes, his smile, his never-ending optimism and unwavering belief that regardless of the situation, everything would work out for the best. 'It was Mr. Vash that helped us through our tough times. I really hope he's doing alright wherever he is.' It had been nearly seven months since Vash had gone to face Knives and there was still no word from him, and this worried her, mainly because Meryl was a wreck since he was gone. When she wasn't crying in her room, she was working herself nearly to death, and Milly was concerned. When she snapped out of her train of deep thought, she noticed she was nearly home. Picking up her pace a bit, she noticed what appeared to be a large bundle of cloth lying on the ground. As she drew closer, the bundle seemed to look more and more like a person. Dropping her groceries on the ground, she ran over to whatever it was laying in the dirt. She emitted the most ungodly shriek anyone on Gunsmoke had ever heard. "WAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" It was a young man, dressed in a priest's habit, badly beaten, with a large knife protruding from his left shoulder, lying in a pool of his own blood. He was alive, but barely. As Milly bent down and listened to his pained breathing, She heard him utter a single word. "Nicolas...." She immediately cupped her hands to her now-gaping mouth. 'How does he know my Nicolas?' She asked herself. 'Well, I guess there's only one way to find out for sure...'Bending down, she lifted the young man onto her khaki clad shoulder and began the rest of her journey home.
A Trigun fanfiction by Aaron Clark
Please note: I do not own Trigun. (I wish I owned something so damned cool.) All characters, and such are Copyright and TM Yashuhiro Nightow . (Except for Jonah Cross and the staff/kids at the orphanage. those are mine .) You can contact me at Destroyallhumansclownz.com; I'd love your feedback. No without further adieu,
On to The story.........
On a hellishly hot day on the planet Gunsmoke, Milly was making her way into town to buy herself some pudding and a few other things." Hello Mr. Millar!" she said in her usual obnoxiously cheery way. "Hello Miss Milly!' replied the elderly shopkeeper, as he swept the front stoop of his general store "Miss Meryl telephoned ahead to make sure you would get the things you needed, and not 12 sacks of pudding like the last time." He said laughing slightly. "Oh yeah, heh. I almost forgot about that." She replied in a sheepish tone, glancing at the floorboards. "Well, here's your groceries." He said, handing Milly a large bundle. "Be careful, now it's heavy. By the way, I slipped a little something extra in there for you, but don't let Miss Meryl know" He said, chuckling. "Thank you Mr. Millar. See you next week!" She replied, taking the large brown paper bag, which had been carefully tied with twine. As she walked out of the store on her way home she passed a donut shop. 'I wonder when Mr. Vash will be home', she thought to herself. 'Meryl really misses him, but she'll never admit it. She's too proud'. Regardless of Meryl's pride, Milly missed Vash too. His lame jokes, his smile, his never-ending optimism and unwavering belief that regardless of the situation, everything would work out for the best. 'It was Mr. Vash that helped us through our tough times. I really hope he's doing alright wherever he is.' It had been nearly seven months since Vash had gone to face Knives and there was still no word from him, and this worried her, mainly because Meryl was a wreck since he was gone. When she wasn't crying in her room, she was working herself nearly to death, and Milly was concerned. When she snapped out of her train of deep thought, she noticed she was nearly home. Picking up her pace a bit, she noticed what appeared to be a large bundle of cloth lying on the ground. As she drew closer, the bundle seemed to look more and more like a person. Dropping her groceries on the ground, she ran over to whatever it was laying in the dirt. She emitted the most ungodly shriek anyone on Gunsmoke had ever heard. "WAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" It was a young man, dressed in a priest's habit, badly beaten, with a large knife protruding from his left shoulder, lying in a pool of his own blood. He was alive, but barely. As Milly bent down and listened to his pained breathing, She heard him utter a single word. "Nicolas...." She immediately cupped her hands to her now-gaping mouth. 'How does he know my Nicolas?' She asked herself. 'Well, I guess there's only one way to find out for sure...'Bending down, she lifted the young man onto her khaki clad shoulder and began the rest of her journey home.