Notice: I do not own any characters from Berserk, or anything that retains
to the basic storyline of Berserk, that's Kentarou Miura's stuff, not mine.
So yea, no one better sue me...or something like that...ahem....:)
Summary: Daimon Kimimoto once worked for the Yakuza as a hired hit man. Now Daimon lives in America where he operates a small firearms shop in New York City. His life is boring, and his life is dull, but what happens when he starts to have visions of the past? Especially if his visions are really memories that are not his own?
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Berserk: Mirror of the Past ............................................................................
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The sun was high in the sky that steamy summer afternoon in Texas. As the dust from the nearby cattle ranches blew across the newly paved road, a small field mouse was trying to desperately gather small morsels dropped from a farm truck that had passed by several hours ago. The mouse twitched its nose in happiness as it slowly hoisted a small kernel of corn up and placed it into the back of its mouth. Just as the mouse was about to leave the black heated roadway, its ears perked up and it looked from side to side. There was a slight humming sound that changed the quiet atmosphere. The humming grew louder and louder, and the mouse did the only thing that its instincts allowed it too. In response to this noise, the mouse refrained from moving a single muscle. It breathed quickly and frequently, trying not to move at all in order to avoid whatever dangers were coming. The humming grew ever louder.
The penal truck carrying sixty-seven inmates, eleven females and fifty-six males, barely could make out the truck buck up slightly as the mouse on the road was crushed by one of the large tires that the metal frame rested on. The mouse, not having known what was going to happen never had time to move. The tire ripped across its fragile little body and tore it to pieces from above, spraying scarlet liquid and organs all around. The once happy little rodent with the newly found kernel of corn now was no longer able to be happy; it's found prize crushed beyond recognition along with its tiny body.
No one on board the light blue penal bus knew what had happened. No mortal man would have been able to notice such a small and insignificant occurrence such as a small mouse losing its life. But at that moment in time, if one of the guards on that tragic bus were to have walked from the front end next to the driver and had walked passed the manacled and orange dressed criminals to the very back of the bus, he would have made it to a small confined space. There was a very small room situated in the very back of this bus, this room was designed to house particularly dangerous criminals. In that very room at the moment of the field mouse's death, a man handcuffed to a steel bench winched slightly. His shoulder length black hair waved a bit as the truck rocked and hit multiple bumps in the paved road. His brown eyes blinked quickly as he tried to reach his well-built left arm to his face to try and calm himself.
"What just happened now?" the man said to himself. "Could it be that they are following me still? No, it was just a mouse." He slowly looked over at the thick steel door that sealed him into the small room on the bus and saw that a guard was looking at him strangely through the barred grating. "Hey buddy, you got a problem in there?" The guard asked in a low and gruff voice, his small gray beard showing that this maybe wasn't the first time he had driven in a bus like this with criminals. The inmate in the backroom sighed and raised his head to look at the guard more. After staring for a few seconds, the criminal opened his mouth and said in a very quiet and slow voice, "No, it was nothing. I'm alright." The guard nodded in response to the criminal's answer and then smirked at him through the bars. "That's good kid, we wouldn't want you to feel an discomfort before you get executed. No sir, I'm going to make this trip as cozy as I can for you." The old man wearing the police uniform grunted a few laughs as he shook his head and sighed at the criminal before him. "You must have done something pretty shitty for you to end up where you are right now man. What did you do? Armed Robbery? Did you kill someone maybe?" The old guard smiled as he saw the man inside the room narrow his eyes at him as he heard the guard's words. The guard waited a minute, but there was no reply from the criminal. "Humph, fine then hardass, don't tell me anything." The old man turned to walk back to the front of the bus. As he walked a few feet from the metal door, he heard the man inside the room finally answer him. "I'm like this because I killed some things. And now I'm being punished for it."
............................................................................ .............................................. Comments: Ok, not long at all, but it still sets the mood a bit. Anyways, post all your comments for me please; I like to get some feedback. Also, don't worry about how long till take me to update, I'm a writer so Ill update a lot. Thanks for taking the time to read my first try at fan fiction, there's more to come, so stay tuned.
Summary: Daimon Kimimoto once worked for the Yakuza as a hired hit man. Now Daimon lives in America where he operates a small firearms shop in New York City. His life is boring, and his life is dull, but what happens when he starts to have visions of the past? Especially if his visions are really memories that are not his own?
............................................................................ ............................................................................ ....
Berserk: Mirror of the Past ............................................................................
......
The sun was high in the sky that steamy summer afternoon in Texas. As the dust from the nearby cattle ranches blew across the newly paved road, a small field mouse was trying to desperately gather small morsels dropped from a farm truck that had passed by several hours ago. The mouse twitched its nose in happiness as it slowly hoisted a small kernel of corn up and placed it into the back of its mouth. Just as the mouse was about to leave the black heated roadway, its ears perked up and it looked from side to side. There was a slight humming sound that changed the quiet atmosphere. The humming grew louder and louder, and the mouse did the only thing that its instincts allowed it too. In response to this noise, the mouse refrained from moving a single muscle. It breathed quickly and frequently, trying not to move at all in order to avoid whatever dangers were coming. The humming grew ever louder.
The penal truck carrying sixty-seven inmates, eleven females and fifty-six males, barely could make out the truck buck up slightly as the mouse on the road was crushed by one of the large tires that the metal frame rested on. The mouse, not having known what was going to happen never had time to move. The tire ripped across its fragile little body and tore it to pieces from above, spraying scarlet liquid and organs all around. The once happy little rodent with the newly found kernel of corn now was no longer able to be happy; it's found prize crushed beyond recognition along with its tiny body.
No one on board the light blue penal bus knew what had happened. No mortal man would have been able to notice such a small and insignificant occurrence such as a small mouse losing its life. But at that moment in time, if one of the guards on that tragic bus were to have walked from the front end next to the driver and had walked passed the manacled and orange dressed criminals to the very back of the bus, he would have made it to a small confined space. There was a very small room situated in the very back of this bus, this room was designed to house particularly dangerous criminals. In that very room at the moment of the field mouse's death, a man handcuffed to a steel bench winched slightly. His shoulder length black hair waved a bit as the truck rocked and hit multiple bumps in the paved road. His brown eyes blinked quickly as he tried to reach his well-built left arm to his face to try and calm himself.
"What just happened now?" the man said to himself. "Could it be that they are following me still? No, it was just a mouse." He slowly looked over at the thick steel door that sealed him into the small room on the bus and saw that a guard was looking at him strangely through the barred grating. "Hey buddy, you got a problem in there?" The guard asked in a low and gruff voice, his small gray beard showing that this maybe wasn't the first time he had driven in a bus like this with criminals. The inmate in the backroom sighed and raised his head to look at the guard more. After staring for a few seconds, the criminal opened his mouth and said in a very quiet and slow voice, "No, it was nothing. I'm alright." The guard nodded in response to the criminal's answer and then smirked at him through the bars. "That's good kid, we wouldn't want you to feel an discomfort before you get executed. No sir, I'm going to make this trip as cozy as I can for you." The old man wearing the police uniform grunted a few laughs as he shook his head and sighed at the criminal before him. "You must have done something pretty shitty for you to end up where you are right now man. What did you do? Armed Robbery? Did you kill someone maybe?" The old guard smiled as he saw the man inside the room narrow his eyes at him as he heard the guard's words. The guard waited a minute, but there was no reply from the criminal. "Humph, fine then hardass, don't tell me anything." The old man turned to walk back to the front of the bus. As he walked a few feet from the metal door, he heard the man inside the room finally answer him. "I'm like this because I killed some things. And now I'm being punished for it."
............................................................................ .............................................. Comments: Ok, not long at all, but it still sets the mood a bit. Anyways, post all your comments for me please; I like to get some feedback. Also, don't worry about how long till take me to update, I'm a writer so Ill update a lot. Thanks for taking the time to read my first try at fan fiction, there's more to come, so stay tuned.