PItFTWGolfer, Rookie Bounty Hunter
Another thanks for all your wonderful reviews and a special thanks to my beta readers for helping me out with this chapter and future ones.
Disclaimer: Still don't own the characters or frankly anything else besides Psyche and the plot… WHY!?!??!?!?
Smashville, the city of wonders. The name of the city once so beautiful and bustling with life. Time had truly been harsh to this once lively metropolitan, slowly transforming it from a beautiful city of lights to a barren and wasted ghost town. It was here where Lord Tabuu, ruler of the Smash Planet, sat upon his throne of gold.
The humans had long ago been either killed or enslaved. Those who were enslaved were forced to work in factories and many other harsh places where their one job was to harness pure energy in order to create Smashballs. These Smashballs, though powerful, were not the true Smashballs of old. Forged from purest energy, the old Smashballs were much more powerful and much rarer than the ones now synthetically made. It was truly a strange sight indeed to see thousands upon thousands of humans, raging from age 90 to age 5 doing nothing but melding together tainted energies in order to create the tainted synthetic Smashballs. But that was there way of life and even the oldest of the old did not know of any other.
But there were some that knew. The few young humans whose eyes remained pure in the tainted world, who were able to see and think for themselves and who not only dreamed, but hoped for the life their ancestors once led a hundred years ago. These humans were few in number, but within their eyes shone a golden spark of hope that nothing, not even the sting of a whip across their backs can take away.
He was one of them. Since the day of his birth they knew he was one of them. But though the knife was poised over his beating little heart, it shook with fear. A boy so young, so pure in this world was to be taken away by knife in hand because of his golden spark? Is there another way?
The Primid who grasped this knife had dropped the blade, watching as it clattered to the floor. A great shuffling and gurgling could be heard as a few more Primids surrounded the healthy baby boy. More gurgling could be heard as his mother, a weak slave in the factories, slipped away from the world, a smile upon her lips. The baby made no sound as his mother's warmth slowly left her, only gazing with curious bright eyes at the strange beings that surrounded him.
Lord Tabuu was not present at the time. The Primids could save this baby boy if they wished. Though they revered Lord Tabuu as a god, a master like no other, they still felt for the young babies brought into the world from mothers who toiled so hard. They themselves have never been born, only made from the depths of Subspace. They knew not what it was like to have a childhood. Should they deny this boy what they have been denied so long? Though time wore on, the knife was never poised over his heart again.
It was hearing this legend that this boy grew up. At a young age he showed great combating skill, skills so great he was brought before Master Fox and Lady Samus of the Bounty Hunters Training Academy and it was there where he grew up.
The bounty hunters of Lord Tabuu did little more than patrol the streets of Smashville and beyond, always on the lookout for runaway slaves or rebellious activity. They were an elite fighting group, almost as strong as the Smashers themselves, but not quite. They were trained for one purpose: to kill.
It had been years since the boy had been brought to the academy. With his class he had graduated from the academy with honors and received his first powersuit, plasma gun, and hunter's knife. It was also when he graduated did he then receive his first assignment: find the runaway slaves and kill them if they resisted to coming back quietly.
From what he had heard, the whole mess started when a slave girl named Psyche managed to somehow escape the deadly blade of Marth's sword and run away. The only traces of her she left behind was a length of her once long and flowing hair. When scanned, it revealed that this hair also had extremely faint bits of pure energy merged within its DNA, the exact energies once used to create the Smashballs a hundred years ago…
The second trace of the girl was a simple stone monument, sprinkled with the blood of the boy who had been killed. In rough cut letters she had carved, "Rest in peace, Austin White. A true friend and a dreamer of dreams made real." She had also drawn a strange symbol at the very top of the rock, a symbol believed to be a secret clue to her whereabouts should any of her friends happen to see the rock and decipher the message. The symbol was nothing more than a horse, upon which road a shattered jar. Though the most expert scientists spent days examining this strange picture, they were unable to decipher its meaning. With no other clue, Lord Tabuu had ordered his bounty hunters to be on the lookout for such a girl and kill her on the spot if possible.
His plasma rifle was gripped tightly in his sweaty palms, his breath came in short pants as he walked. He had been ordered to leave his powersuit at home since many believed she was just a weak girl who got lucky. Judging from the size of Marth's non deadly, but deep wounds, anyone would've believed otherwise.
A gentle breeze passed him, gently tousling his jet black hair. Dark eyes darted to and fro, trying to spot any amount of movement in the deep shadows. Ever so slightly his hands shook, his light skin paling with every sound that could be heard. His heart raced at an alarming rate, so fast he feared it would burst out of his chest.
"All clear over here!" a voice crackled out of the walkie talkie attached to his belt, causing him to jump and accidentally pull the trigger on his gun, "What about you guys?"
"All clear over here too," a voice answered, sounding quite bored in the process, "What 'bout you, Shade?"
"Nothin'," Shade grunted, "Golfer?"
With a shaking hand, Golfer clumsily unbuckled the walkie talkie and held it up to his mouth, "A-All clear where I am, guys."
"Jeez man!" the first voice laughed, "You sound like you've been jumped or somethin'!"
"Heck yeah!" the second voice cackled, "What happened? Did the ugwy wittle girl come out and scare you?"
Shade only grunted his disapproval as his two partners continued to laugh and joke around. Golfer could feel his anger rising, but held his tongue. Taking a deep breath, he turned off the walkie talkie and kept on walking, holding his gun out and ready. Though he tried to calm himself with soothing words and nice thoughts, he could not stop his body from shaking ever so slightly with fear as he continued to roam the empty streets.
Suddenly, there was a great shuffling as if someone was trying to sneak past him unseen. With his great bounty hunting ears, Golfer was able to pinpoint the exact location of the offender and immediately ran towards an alleyway where a great number of cardboard boxes were piled up. In the very back corner of the alley he saw a slight shift in the shadows and after reaching out a hand, he grabbed onto the bodice of a rather plain brown dress.
Careful not to tear the precious cloth, he wrenched the girl out of the alleyway and forced her to get on her knees. Though she did not match the description of Psyche, she bore the marks of a runaway slave and for that she had to die. Removing a special unbreakable chain from his pocket, he proceeded to tie the defenceless girl up and for the first time he was able to see her quite clearly.
Tall and slim she was, with a set of deep brown eyes and messy brown hair with maroon tips. She was pale, possibly from the extreme starvation the slaves received. Her dress was patched and worn, but well kept and rather cleaner than those of the other runaway slaves Golfer had seen being brought in over the years. She must've just gotten away. Though she glared at him hostilely, her eyes were wide and kind, full of life and laughter even in this dreary time. But what was strangest of all about her was the golden spark that danced within each eye…
"Well, what are you waiting for?" she asked, her eyes narrowing angrily, "Are you gonna try giving that 'Oh look at me I'm a bounty hunter' speech or kill me now? I guess death would be a nice thing, considering what I've been through…"
"W-What?" Golfer stammered, surprised.
He had been raised with the belief that there was nothing in the world worse than death. He had been trained to do everything to evade death and to deliver it with no hesitation. The bounty hunters were known as the Messengers of Death by some and Death's Hounds by others. They were feared almost as much as death itself. But to hear this girl, no, this slave speak of death like that when she, no, it should be happy it was still alive was a thing he could not grasp.
"That's impossible!" he exclaimed, "There's nothing worse than death in this world!"
The slave girl's eyes narrowed even more, a strange fire burning in her eyes. "Look, bounty hunter boy, I don't know what they teach you over at that fancy school of yours, but there are a lot of things that are worse than death. If it were up to me, I would've died years and years ago. After all the pain I've been in, death would be a welcoming change…"
Golfer shook his head, not believing what the girl before him was saying. "Pain? What are you talking about? You should be happy that Lord Tabuu is so merciful with his slaves! He takes good care of them, feeds them, has clothes made for the-"
"Merciful?" the girl asked with a laugh, "He's been anything but! Have you ever been in one of the factory rooms? Have you ever seen how the slaves are being treated in there?"
A smirk appeared on her face when her captor did not answer, trying not to meet her eyes. Wriggling slightly in her bonds, she allowed one shoulder of her sleeve to fall, revealing her raw red shoulder hidden beneath. It was a truly gruesome sight indeed, covered in many scars and simply oozing blood. Three deep gashes could be seen in the middle of all these scars, three great big lines simply shining in the dim light of Smashville.
Golfer took a few steps back, his heart racing furiously at the sight of such a shoulder. "N-No… it can't… Lord Tabuu…"
"Lord Tabuu," the girl said emphatically, "Has his Smashers do this to us when we stick a toe out of line. If we're not doing a perfect job, we get whipped. It's practically the law around here and his precious Smashers do a wonderful job of following it."
The last words were said with a bitter hatred in her voice, a horrid reminder of what she had to go through in her childhood. Gripping his gun all the more tighter, he approached her with caution and knelt down beside her, gently easing the sleeve over her mangled shoulder. His hands shook visibly as he did this, gone unmissed by the slave girl next to him.
"H-He was always so kind to his bounty hunters," Golfer stammered, still shaking with fear and disgust, "H-He fed us well, never whipped us unless we really deserved it…"
"Well, that's you guys," she muttered, wrenching her shoulder away from him, "Not all of us can possess athletic skill… not when we're overworked and underfed day and night…"
"I had no idea," he whispered, "I honestly… I never…"
"You're forgiven," she answered roughly, "So, are you going to kill me or what?"
His gun trembled even more so in his hand as she said these words, sweat poured down his face in torrents. Was it truly worth it to spill the blood of a girl who had spent her life in torment? Should she be killed or set free? But if he set her free, would he only be causing her more torment?
It was with these questions leaping about in his head that he finally found his voice. "I… I can't. I can't kill you now that I know how… how hard you guys are being treated…"
The girl's eyebrows raised in surprise. "But… the bounty hunting code…"
"I know," he answered, a smile appearing on his lips, "I know I'll be in serious trouble if they ever find out, but… it's just not right to spill blood when they've been abused and tormented their whole life. I'm letting you go and just go ahead and go wherever you're going… start a new, better life than the one you're leading now…"
With that, he proceeded to unbind her. Her eyes had softened now as he undid her chains, the tiny spark of gold flickering slightly as she was set free. She stood up again, this time a smile upon her lips.
"I'm headed to Mount Smash," she told him as he put away his chain, "It's said that the caves there lead to the worlds of the Smashers. And even if that's not true, somehow I feel as if a voice is calling me to go to that mountain."
"Amazing," Golfer said with a small nod, "I guess I should best be getting back, huh?"
The girl grinned. "Yeah, you should… we'll meet again. I know we will…"
With that, she turned tail and dashed away from him. With every step her feet seemed as if they were gliding upon the ground. Laughter shone in her eyes as she was set free at last, free as any bird could be. She did not look back once during her flight of freedom, but she laughed, high and pure.
It was with a small sigh that the bounty hunter placed his chain back into his pocket. He never understood why his fellow hunters always enjoyed killing the runaways, seeing the blood shining on their hands. But now he was more confused than ever. They seemed to enjoy ending the torment of one's life with more torment. The way of the bounty hunter was to kill swiftly and relatively painlessly, but almost every graduate of the academy broke that code. They would do everything from skinning the victim alive to raping them. It was a cruel world that they lived in and they wished nothing more than to get the most fun out of it.
"Well, lookie here!" said a voice behind him, "Poor wittle Golfy didn't have the guts to shoot someone! Poor baby!"
His heart began hammering again as he turned around to face three more bounty hunters. All of them were tall, at least three heads taller than he. Humongous muscles bulged from beneath their clothes, emphasized by the humongous black machine guns they carried. Judging from the golden badges pinned to their shirt, these bounty hunters were part of the elite team. The team was known for its brutality and almost primitive like ways of killing. Rather than using the bullets of the gun, they would use the guns to beat the victim to death. But as brutal and abusive as they were, they always got the job done. And it was because of this that they were favored by Lord Tabuu above all else, save the Smashers.
"What happened to the poor baby?" the middle one said, his voice dripping with malice, "Was the stupid wittle girl to scawy for the poor baby?"
Though he trembled in his boots, he held his ground as the three elite bounty hunters approached him. His face paled horribly as the one standing on the left grabbed his plasma gun and bent it like paper, snapping it like a twig. The ones in the middle and on the right slowly approached him, cracking their knuckles one by one. Without anything idea left, he pulled out his hunter's knife and held it ready. With a flick of his wrist, the middle one sent it sailing away, landing over twenty feet away. With a small gulp, Golfer began backing up.
"We have to teach the poor baby a lesson, don't we Titan? Atlas?" the middle one asked, reaching out and grabbing the rookie bounty hunter by the throat, "He's been a bad, bad boy!"
"Of course, of course," the left one grunted, "Do what ya want, Siegmund."
Siegmund grinned, his face contorting horribly. "Well, well, well… what to do to the poor baby…"
"I've got an idea," the right one said, grinning malevolently, "Baby would just love the idea, won't you baby?"
Almost immediately, he raised his fist in the air and brought it down, crashing horribly right on Golfer's nose. Warm liquid oozed out as he sceamed in pain, writhing slightly in Siegmund's grip. With a malicious laugh, Siegmund slammed his face against the nearest wall over and over again, only increasing the flow of blood gushing out of his nose. A horrible crack told him that he had managed to break Golfer's nose. The smirk on his face widened at the noise, causing him to hurl the boy into the alleyway where a sickening crunch was heard coming from his right arm.
"What's wrong baby?" Siegmund cackled, "Is the baby gonna cwy? Is he gonna go cwy to mommy Samus and daddy Fox?"
Golfer said nothing, merely glaring at them with his dark eyes filled with fear. The three elite hunters approached him, their heavy footsteps echoing slightly in the silence of Smashville. They had their machineguns out and ready, gently fingering the trigger and occasionally wiping a speck of dust off of them. Darkness, thick and black began to surround the bloodied hunter as they approached, choking him, almost blinding him from the impending death that was to come.
"No!"
With a sudden force, he felt himself being wrenched away from the world. A world of darkness met him as he felt himself getting lighter and lighter, floating away on a strange cloud of darkness. Shadows surrounded him on all sides, only penetrated by a distant light. Was this death? No, death was supposed to be painful for him. He was in fact floating in a realm of darkness, unable to feel the beating of the guns upon him or the sting of the bullets he had expected to feel.
With no other option he began walking towards the light, coming closer and closer until it almost blinded him. He could see the world very clearly, as if he were looking through a window into the outside world. He could see himself, blood gushing out of his nose, his right arm limp and hanging. But he was fighting them and winning. No words could possibly describe his amazement as he saw himself using only one arm to hold two back while he kicked away at the third. His eyes, no longer dark brown, but light blue flashed icily at the elite group of hunters as he continued to fight.
"Whoa…" he whispered, reaching out to touch the portal.
Then, he was himself again. All around him there was blood. His right arm throbbed with unimaginable pain as he stood panting in the alleyway. The bodies of the three elite bounty hunters littered the street.
"Well, that was fun," a voice in his head said amusedly, "It's been a while since I've gotten any exercise…"
"W-Who are you?" he asked, a surge of fear creeping into his voice.
"I am Samus Aran, professional intergalactic bount-"
"L-Lady Samus!" Golfer gasped, getting down to his knees, "Lady Samus, I'm sorry! I couldn't control myself and-"
"Kid, what are you talking about?"
"Bounty hunters aren't allowed to attack other bounty hunters," he squeaked, "I'm sorry! I'll make it up and-"
"Okay, I don't know what you've been eating, but there aren't any rules to bounty hunting…"
"But the school-"
"Okay, who's school are you going to, first off?"
"The one you started with Master Fox when Lord Tabuu came to rule!"
Samus gasped. "I bounty hunting school?! What kind of nonsense is that? I would never start a school!"
"B-But…" he stammered, getting up, "Y-You… the school…"
"Listen kid," Samus said tiredly, "There's a lot that needs to be explained, but we don't have much time. You need to be somewhere right now and we've got no time to lose. How much food do you have?"
Golfer checked his pack and the packs of the elite team. "About ten days worth…"
"Good. Now head over to Mount Smash. There are some people you need to meet…"
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEEE!!!!!!!! *smiles*
Sorry if there's not enough Smasher action. I promise that they'll be a lot more in upcoming chapters, kay? :)
Yeah, so… that's just about it!