From Hell and Back
By: Sam Emo
Story: My view on Leroy's life as a child and how he slowly discovered who and what he is.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Sword of the Dark Ones (a.k.a. Ragnarok). But I sure as hell can pretend I do! Don't sue me. I lack the substance known as money.
Warnings: This is a mature rated fic due to all of the horrible things that happen to Leroy (and cursing). This might become a long muti-chapter fic if people like it. Note: None of this really happens in the manga, I'm just sadistic.
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He watched his feet in silence as they slowly pulled him onward. Where they were taking him, he didn't know. Where he had come from was another mystery. All he could remember was the path he was walking along and whatever he had seen on it. No… he could remember a name, too.
…Leroy… Leroy Schwartz…
Was it his name? Or was it someone else's name? His father's perhaps?
Fuck that… he told himself, it's my name until someone tells me differently.
He pulled at the tattered scarf around his neck, forcing it to cover his face. It was weak protection, but if it kept the sand out of his nose, it would be enough. He focused on the horizon, his messy black hair shielding his eyes from the now setting sun. Not once had he looked back since he had become aware of himself. Not once had he stopped to see if there were any towns he had missed. Something deep down inside of him was nudging him forward.
But, like most things in his life, that 'something' remained unknown.
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The sun had long since set by the time his weariness made itself known. Not all that surprising, he had been walking for three days strait. Damn he was tired. But, where could he sleep? He was still miles away from any town, and if he slept out in the open, god knows what might happen. He needed to find shelter. The sooner the better.
His short legs carried him over another small dune-like hill, a loud sigh leaving his throat. His body wouldn't stop swaying, and his eyelids were growing heavy. It would be very bad if he passed out. He could only hope he would be lucky at this point.
His dull grey eyes looked up at the star filled sky. Maybe he should wish upon a star… Yeah right… like a tiny ball of light would do anything for him… His head lazily rolled around until he once again was looking at the ground. God… why was he so tired? A second sigh escaped his lips.
He was sitting. Okay… when the hell had he sat down? Damn, he really didn't know what was going anymore, did he? Well damn. What now?
He shook his head, forcing the need for sleep from his eyes momentarily. He needed to see if there was any hope of finding shelter before he could pass out. His dark grey eyes scanned the hilly valley before him, searching for anything that might be useful to him. Any form of a temporary salvation would do.
Lo and behold, and only a short jog away, a semi-damaged carriage lay, it was practically begging him to use it!
With a sudden burst of newly found energy, he rushed to his temporary home, a smile spread across his face. He ran with all his might, his feet carried him off the path and onto the dusty planes. He ran and ran, paying little mind to the shapes around him… at least until he tripped on one.
He fell on his face with a loud shout, curses spewing from his mouth as he corrected himself. He freed his leg from its captor, growling as he pondered what the hell kind of rock had tripped him. But it was no rock that had tripped him; it was a man, or what was left of one.
He shrieked, the eyeless sockets of the mummy like being staring right back at him. He was scared, no terrified. The first man he had ever met was a dead one.
He wanted to scream, to cry for help, but he knew better. Even if someone heard him, it would take hours, maybe days, before anyone would find him. And if someone did come, would they even consider helping him? He was a child, one with no memory of the past. People had very little use for abandoned children, he would be a burden if nothing else.
So, he would keep his mouth shut, for now. He would let this horror rest in his heart for the time being.
He forced himself to his feet, he could ponder the meaning of the body in the morning. His eyes were still wide when he began to walk again, his eyes darting from shape to shape as he approached to carriage. He couldn't help but wonder if there were more bodies near by.
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The carriage, thankfully, was free of dead bodies, a small comfort for his shocked state of being. It was dusty though, he could barely move without kicking up a storm. But beggars couldn't be choosers, now could they? He would take anything he could get.
He wondered about the cabin, searching for anything useful. Upon rummaging through a cabinet beneath one of the two seats, he came across a small lantern and a box of matches. He mentally patted himself on the back for finding it so quickly. With a quick flick of his wrist and a few sharp squeaks from the lantern's top, the carriage's cabin was basking in the newly found light.
The cabin itself wasn't very big, it could fit three or four adults. But considering how small he was, it there would be more than enough room for him. The walls were stained a reddish-brown color, the walls almost seemed to glow wherever the light touched them. Brass hangers hung above all of the cabin's windows, thick green curtains covering the glass. Cushions, the same color as the curtains, rested atop the bench like seats, upon testing, they proved to be quite soft and comfortable. In the end, he had found a great place to spend the night.
He searched through the cabinets again, quickly finding a blanket and a few pillows. He ignored everything else he found, deciding it best to look in the morning. He quietly made a makeshift bed out of one of the cushions; he removed his clothes, except for his pants, in the same manner. Finally pleased with himself, he blew out the lantern and snuggled into his bed. It took only moments before he was fast asleep.
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Preview of Next Chapter:
The soft tickle of warmth against his cheek awoke him early the next morning. Well, that and his stomach howling angrily for food…
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Fukki: So… what do you think? Good? Bad?
Leroy: If you're looking for more than just cursing, the next chapter will have more stuff going on.
Fukki: If you must flame me, please be a constructive critic.
Fukki: Thank you for joining us! Hope to see you again soon!