The Games People Play…
By Yma
Disclaimer: This world and its characters do not belong to me, they belong to all the wonderful people who created Trigun, and the man who draw the Manga of course. I am just having some fun with this. Don't take it too seriously and don't sue. My thanks to them for creating such a fun and interesting world and characters. This disclaimer not only applies to this chapter, but to all those following it within this story.
Prologue
He'd lost something…
What… what had he lost he…
Something… her… yes, he'd lost her.
Who was she again?
He couldn't remember. But… she was there, waiting for him, in that place amongst the blue sky where red petals floated on the soft breeze. It was good there, not like here.
He didn't like it here, not one bit.
Here the sky was red and there were dark piles of rubble and dust, dust so thick he could hardly breathe. And he was cold, so cold he couldn't stop shivering. But hot too, it didn't make any sense.
Why was he here? Had he been bad?
Having said that, he'd only been here a few moments, and he was lying on his back, so maybe things would improve later.
He wished he could remember her name.
He wished he could remember his own name.
He strained his mind, trying to catch a glimpse of the past, a past he felt he really should know but… but…
Yes… there'd been grass, too. Grass and red flowers.
Red… determination, courage.
Yes. He recalled that now.
He should sit up, should get moving. Perhaps he'd find out what was going on, perhaps She would be there to guide him after all. She must be round here (wherever here was,) somewhere, mustn't She? She wouldn't leave him, surely, not so long as he was good, not so long as he didn't make Her sad. And promised he would never leave Her, yes… he knew…
'I promise, because I love you Rem!'
Rem.
Yes… Rem… that was the name. Her name. Rem. Rem.
He opened his mouth, tried to call out to her.
'Rmmmm…'
He couldn't get the words out, his throat and lips were parched, his tongue full of dust. Damn.
And there was still something wrong, something missing. What? What?
Well, She would know. Rem would know. He just had to find Her and he wouldn't find Her lying on his back like this!
So he tried to sit up.
Then he understood what else that was missing.
He was supposed to have two arms, right? Yes… but one was gone. One was deferentially gone.
He was wearing a red coat which flowed around him like… like… geranium petals. It was tattered and torn though and the right sleeve was gone, ripped away. Poor coat.
His right arm was there, though, which was good. And he was holding something…
He looked and saw that he was holding a gun, a bright, silver gun. His fingers on his existing arm were stiff from holding it so long and so tightly.
He was glad he had it and glad he had his right arm too. He liked his right arm because… because… he was right handed. Yes. So losing his left wasn't so bad.
He knew he'd lost his left arm because it wasn't there, you see. There was just a tattered stump of flesh which leaked red. A red stump leaking more red, courage and determination dripping into the dust, like geranium petals.
Blood a small, calm voice inside of him said, blood, you're bleeding badly. You're shivering because of blood loss, you need to bandage your stump off soon, before the shock wares out and you feel the pain.
Slowly he tore strips from the tattered leather of his coat and wound them around the wound, hoping to stop the red blood leaking out. It was hard to do with only one hand and even harder because the congealing gore made his grip slippy.
He was thinking clearer now, he had a notion that soon there would be a lot of pain, that there was already a lot of pain but he just hadn't got round to feeling it yet.
He staggered to his feet and promptly fell down again, having over balanced. Without the weight of his left arm he wasn't sure how to stand properly. He tried again, this time over balancing the other way as he compensated too much.
Third time lucky?
He managed it, using a shattered wall for support he found his feet and looked around. Things were even worse than he'd thought. There really was nothing but dust, sand, ruined buildings and a swirling, red sky.
What could have done this?
Well, there would be time to wonder later, now… now he needed to find his arm.
The little, calm voice in his head said it would be no good, the limb was gone forever now, so much rotting carrion. But he wanted to find it anyway, it was his and kind of handy.
He giggled to the empty air at his own joke. Handy! Funny. He'd made a joke! He must tell Rem that joke, when he found Her.
Shock was wearing out now, pain had entered the equation. He was starting to become hysterical.
He stumbled and lurched around the wreckage of the house. There was no sound except for his stumbling footsteps, occasionally he would cry out as a dull twinge of pain grabbed him, or a sob would escape his lips, sometimes, between cries and sobs, he would cough as the dust and sand entered his parched throat and mouth.
There was no one about except for… a body. Yes, the body of a man with dark hair surrounded by yet more blood. Who was he?
He didn't seem familiar, not really.
Why was there so much blood here? So much pain and destruction? Was this hell?
He tried to think, to decipher the mess that was his mind, but it was useless.
Oh… there was the pain.
He gasped, slipped, fell to the ground once more. Darkness was rushing towards him, an abyss of agony and oblivion. Well, that wasn't so bad. He was falling now, falling, falling as around him She sang.
So… on the first night the pebble falls to the earth…
He fell with it.