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Fanfiction ► { Rebels&Ravens }



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Zearth

Ashy to Classy
Joined
Mar 12, 2005
Messages
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31
Location
Carson, CA
Guess what guys? Its not a kh fic! Gasp! Well, its about time. We need more original fics. I thought IMAGINATION was a big part of writing, but now all I see are SoraxKairi romance fangirl nonsense, and characters acting.....out of character. So heres my fiction, that I hope you enjoy. If you like Cowboy Bebop, Gungrave, and have read the book entitled "The Outsiders", you will like this. Also, there A bit of mature themes in this, so......yeah, youve been warned. If you don't like potty mouths or blood, or violence, you MIGHT not want to give this a read. Without further adu, I now present:

{ Rebels and Ravens }

Chapter 1: *~bLoodY_RAiny_TeaRy NOSTALGIA*~

The rain poured down heavily upon the large apartment buildings of the quiet city. It had been raining like this all day, and no one was outside. This night was peaceful, however. Children could finally sleep dreamlessly, no longer awakened by the gunshots that would ring in their ear day after day after day. Things had changed drastically, thanks to the suits from Xeno District. There wasn't a sound in this former city of sin and death. But of course, this silence was to be broken. Broken by the hateful sound of bullets, from a small, white corner store. Inside of its old, tinted windows, a loud crack of gunfire was heard, and a yellow flash filled its walls. You could see the blast even from the outide. A faint thud was heard soon after, as of someone had crumpled on the floor. An eerie silence followed, and the only thing that was heard was the sound of the rain pounding against the black asphalt. The city was mute again, as if it was ignoring what had just happened. No one seemed to care, for they were already used to their peaceful nights. No one cared, that's what I came to believe over time.

Suddenly, the worn, white doors of the store erupted open, and two boys ran out like dogs, one of them almost tripping on his untied shoelace. They sprinted as if they were running from the devil himself, and were already halfway down the apartment filled streets. Someone else came out of the door, this time a much older looking man. He wore a turquoise Hawiian shirt, and had his white, blonde hair slicked back. He held a shotgun in both hands, and had a crazed look in his blue eyes. This man was the owner of the store, and he was obviously pissed beyond reason, his red face verifying this. He looked left and right like a mad man, and aimed his shotgun when he saw the boys heading into an alley. He blasted off another shot as he chased them down.

"Get back here you theiving lil' assholes!!"

The boys kept running, one of them lagging behind. He seemed to trying to hold back tears, and whimpered like a puppy. The one in front with short, black hair hadn't made a sound, and only and kept running at a fast pace. He turned to his terrified friend with a slight frown on his semi-pale face. "Hurry up!! He's gaining! Lets take the one on left!! We know these streets more than him!!", the young boy said with a surprisely fearless tone. His friend nodded his head nervously, unsure if he was shivering with fear or the rain. Another shot rang out, and missed them by a hair, instead hitting a silver trash can. Its contents were sprayed into the air, months worth of garbage spilling on the drenched, cracked pavement. They shook off their near death experience, and kept running until they jerked left into an old, adandoned warehouse. They hid in the darkness, and pressed against to corner of the wall, the frightened one breathing loud and heavily. His eyes were shut tight, trying to convince himself that what had just happened was a dream. He didn't believe himself. "W-what are we gonna do?! Were gonna die!! I told you this wasn't a good idea!! I told you! Now look what happened!! I.....don't wanna die!! I Don't wanna-", the boy said screaming frantically before a cold, wet fist hit him across the cheek. His tanned cheek was red now, and his watery eyes were wide open in shock. The black haired boy had done this to snap him out of it. That crazy old man would find them for sure if he kept screaming like that. The scared boy turned to his friend, still railing from emotional shock. He looked into the black eyes of his friend, and saw no sadness. Only anger and hate. "Calm down....were not gonna die.....That old bastard.....he killed Mason....killed him in cold blood......over nothin' but a couple of sandwiches and potato chips......Well ya know what? I'm not running away.......", the angered young boy said in a cold whisper. His friend was confused by what he meant, thinking that he had definately lost it. Hell, he didn't blame him. He had gone nuts too. Suddenly, slow, dense footsteps were heard approaching them from outside, and the man walked into the large square door of the warehouse. He looked around slowly, only seeing darkness. The psycho walked right past them, aiming his shotgun at nothing but air. The black hair boy had covered his friends mouth to mask his heavy, fear induced breath. That was when it happened.

The black haired boy lifted up his black shirt to reveal a black, curved hilt, attached to a light brown holster. He unshealthed it slowly, and with the flick of his wrist, a small, silver blade sprang out. It glared in the darkness of the warehouse, becoming the only source of light. His eyes were cold and peircing as he gazed at the back of the tacky Hawiian shirt before him. He slowly took his hand from his friends mouth, and began to approach the man with small, silent steps. The boy had finally releazed what he meant. He was staring wide eyed at his friend, knowiong what he was about to do.

Ryan.......no......

The black Chuck Taylor's broke into a run, stamping on the worn floors rapidly. The man turned around, but it was already too late. Ryan's switchblade stabbed through his stomach,and the faint sound of peirced flesh was heard. Dark crimson spread across the once blue shirt, dying it with blood. The man dropped his gun, and stammered a few times. Ryan pulled out the blade slowly, making a "shling" sound as he did so. The body was still at first, but gradually crumpled to the ground, eyes still open. Ryan simply glared down at the body in front of him, his eyes emotionless and placid. The boy had watched the whole thing, and was shaking with his eyes wide open, trying to grasp words as he stumbled toward the dead man on the floor. Ryan turned away from the man, not even saying a word, and walked past his friend towards the entrance. The boy glared at the body in front of him, seeing his reflection in the dark pool below him. Tears were streaming down his face, but he wasn't making a noise. He couldn't even if he wanted to. He heard words behind him, but he couldn't hear, too lost in thought to think about anything else. They sounded as if they were far away.

"Case........lets get out of here before the cops come............Case are you listening?.......Case............"


Suddenly, the words became loud. Louder than the gunshots he had heard before, echoing in his head like a siren.

Case!!!!

*****************

My brown eyes shot open, and I could only see a blurred frenzy of distorted figures and colors. I heard voices clearly now, and it spoke of Greek civilization......or something like that. My head was hurting, and when I lifted it, I immediately lay it back down on the wooden desk. I decided to rub my eyes with the back of my right hand, and vision returned to me. I saw a collection of eyes staring back at me with blank looks, some whispering to each other. Or mabye I was the one with the blank expression, and they were simply returning it. My half-open eyes glazed over to the white walls to see a bunch of bullitens stapled to them. The words read of something about an upcoming dance, and other things I didn't really care about. I turned back to the faces who continued to stare, one of them who was I was familiar with. It was one of my teammates from the track squad, and his name was Daryll.......or something. "Hahaha......Jesus Case. You can't stay awake for one period can ya?", the shaggy, brown haired teen said with an almost hysterical laughter.

My scrambled mind thought deeply about that last sentence that had just intered my ears, ignoring the hyena-like laughter that would've freaked me out if I wasn't half conscious. "Awake"? That's what he said. Ah.........now I get it. I had fallen asleep, and this must have been World History. And that means that I was dreaming again......dreaming about that day 6 years ago. I shook my head to wake myself up, which was a double edged sword considering that it made my headache worse. But it subsided, and I was normal again. The woman standing before the class had her arms folded, and I was glad that the glare of her thin glasses hid her eyes. I bet that they were fireballs of fury by now. This was Ms. Parker, and this was the 18th time I had fallen asleep in her class. "Uh....I'm sorry Ms. Parker...hehehe...you know how it is with the track team. That coach has as runnin' all over the city....That kind of running really wears you out ya know?", I said with a fake smile, my voice full of nervousness. And I had every right to be nervous. Ms. Parker was creepy when she got angry, but I guess she felt generous today. She simply sighed, and pushed up her glasses. "Haaa.......listen Case. I know its hard living on your own. Especially at your age. But that doesn't mean that you can slack off on your school work. Please try to stay awake next time, okay?", she said with a soft tone. I felt my heart drop when she said this. She only felt sorry for me. I hate that. I don't want sympathy, I just wanna be treated like everyone else. I really didn't mind living on my own, it just that waking up at 5:30 every morning to make it to school on time really makes it hard to stay awake. I live in an apartment half-way across the city, miles away from this school. These guys from Raven Cross pay for everything I need, at least until I turn 18. Don't ask why I live on my own at 15, because I really don't like talkin' about it. The teacher turned to the chalkboard, and began to write something, but the bell rang, and students filed out of the class in seconds. I stood up from the desk, and hoisted my dark blue backpack on my back. I took one last look at Ms. Parker before I left, and walked out of the door. The hall was full of students, and I walked through the sea of teens with dread, somehow making it to my locker half way down the hall. I put in my combination, 21-15-30, and popped it open. I took out my science and english textbooks, and put them in my backpack. I was prepared to head out the door, but Daryll stood in my path, leaning against a locker. "Sup Case. You comin' to track practice today?", he said itching his nonexistant goatee. "Nah, I don't think I'm gonna make it today. I got somewhere to go.", I said walking past him. That's when it hit me. My eyes widened, and I looked worriedly at the watch on my left hand. It was 3:15.

Oh s**t.....I'm gonna be late!

That's when I ran past the students in a zig zag pattern, trying to avoid loitering girls who stood in the middle of the hall. I ran into some guy, and knocked him and his books on the brown, tiled floors. I kept running, not having any time to care. I heard cursing, but I didn't care about that either. I pushed open the square glass doors, and jumped over the multiple steps, missing other students by a hair. I landed on my feet, but the height was a bit much, and I stumbled a bit. But this didn't stop me, and my white Nike tennis shoes pounded against the sidewalk rapidly. I was thankful for being on the track team, because I was running really fast. I didn't feel tired either, so I started increasing my speed. I was running downhill now, and running dangerously. I couln't stop myself, and I had never ran this fast in my life. I couldn't see anything on my right or left. They looked too blurry. I finnaly reached the bottom of the hill, and skidded to a halt, almost falling on my back. I turned keft on Terrier Street, and I was now in the apartment district, where the streets were more narrow. I kept sprinting, and I was sweating now.

Damn.......I hope I'm making good time.....



*************************


The roar of the crowd echoed in my ears as I stood in the middle of the ring, focused only on the upcoming challenge. He was late, and the spectators were getting anxious. If he arrived any later, he would be disqualified. Luckily, our sensei pulled some strings and got him some extra time. My wandering, jet black eyes gazed at the people in the bleachers, some cheering and some booing. I even saw some leave with disgusted looks on their faces, throwing their popcorn to the floor. A soda whizzed past my head, almost breaking through my calm, focused exterior. These people were acting like animals, and I winced at this. What was taking him so long? He never was one to be on time, but never like this. What a shame it would be for him to be disqualified, after all of those months of training. My pale fists clentched with frustration, and a bit of worry.

Come on Case.......

Suddenly, the dark blue doors in the back of the building burst open, and there he was, sweating like a pig. I smiled slightly, and smacked my hand on my forehead. I should have known. Case hand always been late, but he never ditched anyone. Late and absent are two different things, and he understood that......I guess. He walked over to me, but quickly rested his hands on his knees when he got close enough, breathing heavily. The guy wasn't dressed either. Haha......good old Case. He let out a final sigh, and stood up straight, laughing innocently with his hand behing his head. The crowd cheered loudly at his arrival, overhoyed at the fact that the main event was about to begin.

"Uh, hehehehe......I know this is soundin' like a broken record, but sorry I'm late. I kinda lost track of time....hehehehe.....Oh yeah! Gimme a sec to get dressed!", he said switching his tine of voice. The tanned teen that I called freind ran past me towards the locker room, not immerging for quite some time. I didn't know why, considering how easy it was to put these white gi's on. Mabye he was mentally preparing himself? Nah, I discarded the thought. That wasn't like Case. So I simply waited, taking this time to get a few speed drills in. I spun twice into a roundhouse kick, then into a tripping motion with my left leg. The crowd seemed to enjoy the little preview I was giving them, so I continued the drill, quickening my pace.
I jabbed rapidly at the air, making swooshing sounds as I did so, before leaping in the air for a scissor kick. My torso spun in a 180, and I backhanded with my fist. My lips curled into a smile. I was being given an advantage. I had gotten a good work out earlier that morning, and now I got another. I bet that Case didn't practice at all.

Ha......this isn't gonna be as tough as I thought.....

TO BE CONTINUED.........
 
Last edited:

Zearth

Ashy to Classy
Joined
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Messages
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Location
Carson, CA
((Dude....like....bump...I know its not a kh fic, but at least give it a chance...Comments ok?))
 
Joined
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Oh, just hanging out with Demy - HEY GET BACK HERE
Wow, this is an excellent fic. You pay a lot of attention to details and the background scenery of the story.

I'm guessing Case and Ryan robbed the store b/c they needed the money. I feel sorry for Case (but don't tell him that XP)

Kinda like Cowboy Bebor or Gungrave, eh? I'm guessing that means there's some sinister organization lurking in the shadows then....

Yeah, the KH fic chaos at the moment. I recommend putting a link in your sig, not just for advertisment, but also so you can revive the thread if it falls off the pages.

I look forward to more.
 

Zearth

Ashy to Classy
Joined
Mar 12, 2005
Messages
2,537
Age
31
Location
Carson, CA
YAY!! First comment, and by none other than one of my favorite writers, Winged Mirage. Your digimon fics were class. Thank you very much for commenting. Now if only the other 40 veiwers would be so kind, lol. About the organization lurking in the shadows, hehehe.....you'll just have to see. Here's the next part, but its only about 4/5 of the way completed. Actiony.....a few more plot twists......and a little Cowboy Bebop Magic. Here it is.


Chapter 2: [ Dance Dance Graveyard; Trenchcoat Ambivalence ]



***********************

I sat on the worn, blue, wooden bench with my head hanging down. My fingers were laced together, gripping eachother in a loose handshake of sorts. I lifted my head, and my eyes gazed at the white walls of the locker room. To me, they we're more like gateways to the past. My mind was thinking about that rainy day six years ago......stepping into this place drenched with tears in my eyes. I also remembered Ryan's placid expression......the ice cold eyes filled with darkness. The eyes that had no reflection, their innocence faded. I shut my eyes tightly, trying to delete the memory of that day, but deep down knowing that it wouldn't ever go away. It would stick with me my entire life. It suddenly dawned on me that I was waisting time thinking about the past, and that my mind should've been focused on the match coming up. Realizing this made me forget the past temporarily, and the thoughts were discarded, not returning to me for a long while. That's what I hoped anyway.

With my mind restored, I stood up from the bench slowly, clad in my white gi and black sash, and walked towards the large blue door that I had entered earlier. While heading out the door, I looked at my reflection in the mirror beside the door, and was proud of the focused expression my face. These few seconds of vanity passed of course, and I pushed the doors open. My bare feet made the wooden floors creak as I walked along it, but this was almost inaudible. The cheer of the crowd drowned out the sound completely. Directly in front of me was Ryan, who seemed to be doing drills. I smiled at this, remembering how much of a show off me could be sometimes. He stopped abruptly when I got close enough, not even noticing me walk out the door beforehand. He turned to face me, and beamed a sly smile.

"This is the final match of the Young Dragons tournament!!! Our finalists are Ryan Shiyamoto and Case Walker!!! Rumor has it that they both trained under the same sensei, in this very dojo!!! Were bound ro be in for a grand performance folks!!!!", the announcer known as Kenny Volt shouted exuberently through his microphone. How he knew that information about me and Ryan, I dunno. The crowd continued to cheer, some stomping their feet on the wooden bleachers, making the sound of some kind of tribal drum ritual. To tell you the truth, I didn't how I was supposed to concentrate with the noise ringing in my ears.

"You both know the rules. The match is decided by a ringout. There will be no attacking below the belt as well, and doing so will result in an instant disqualification. Are these rules clear?", the bald referee, who was wearing a black and white gi, said in a deep, almost intimidating tone. He had always gave this speech, and we always gave him the same answer. We both nodded when he looked us both respectively in the eye. "Okay then........"

I bowed to my friend, and he did the same to me. While bending over, he looked me in the eye with the same sly smile on his face. "Good luck.", he said in a whisper that I almost couldn't make out because of the roar of the crowd. I returned the smile. "Luck is for losers.....", I said in an unusally arrogant way. But of course, Ryan didn't mind it.

"Begin!"

*song Sakura starts to play*

When those words entered my ears, it felt as if a switch was turned on. Senses...Reflexes....Strength....Focus....they were all tuned to their maximum level, and I knew that I would need it to be victorious. We both snapped into a fighting stance, and got our distance from each other. We both inched backwards slowly, and I glared into the dark eyes of my opponent, which gazed back into mine with immense focus and determination. I was waiting for him to make the first move, and I got my wish. Ryan rushed at he head on, filling the gap between us in seconds. He swung his right led feircly into a kick, which I blocked with my forearm. I decided to take advantage of his unbalanced position, and attempted to flip him on the wooden floors sideways. But this was unsucessful, as the nimble fighter simply cartwheeled before falling on his temple. When he was on his feet again, he rushed at me again from a squatting position, but this time lept into the air for a double stomp kick. Again, I blocked with my forearm, but he used my arms as a boost, and flipped behind me. My eyes widened with surprise. Before I could react, I felt a rush of pain in the back of my neck, and stumbled forward in a slight daze. When I turned around to see Ryan, he had one leg in the air, and was smiling in an arrogant way. I took up my fighting stance again, and this time I would go on the offensive. My ready hands curled into a fist, and my legs spread as if on pure instinct. The shiny, wooden floor creaked as my bare feet began to spring forth. Thats when a clock started ticking in my head, counting down the seconds as my body began to unleash full strength. This feeling.....it was something that I couldn't explain. It felt like a rush of adrenaline, but at the same time a calm wind. My eyes closed, and all I saw as darkness. While in the shadow of my mind, sounds from the outside world scraped against the walls of my focused barrier. It sounded like rapid footsteps, and they were getting louder and louder as they approached. This was the only sound I wuld hear from now on. The rhythm of movement. No longer relying on my slow eyes.

1......2......3!!


I shot them open, and jerked my head to the right, avoiding a swift jab to the face. Time slowed as I glared at the clentched fist that glided past my face, the bulging, green veins showing strain. Was this really Ryan? He seemed so slow. Did I become faster? The feeling was still here. The feeling of roaring wind. I would use its overwhelming power to my advantage. My own fist rushed forward, and I nailed him dead in the stomach. He flew backwards and coughed slightly his semi long raven hair swaying wildly. He slid against the floors on his back, but flipped over onto his feet before he went out of bounds. He was inches away from the bright red line, and looked at me in a surprised manner. That was unsual for him. He never seemed surprised about anything. Seeing him like this made my confidence rise, knowing that I had gotten through to him. This battle would be mine. He stood up, and got back into his fighting stance. "Hehe....you've gotten stronger....looks like I'll actually have to try this time.", he said in what I belived to be faking confidence. I ignored this, trying to keep myself at my current level strength. I flicked my fingers back and forth, and let out a grin. "Come on."

The dance started again, beginning when Ryan rushed at me with even more speed than before. This time, his footsteps were almost mute, and narrowly dodged his roundhouse kick by ducking. He attempted another kick to my chin as I crouched, but I was too quick, and flipped backwards inches before impact. Ater two whole graceful spins, I landed on the floor again still crouching. I expected to see his figure before me again when I rose my head, but he was gone. I stared into empty space with what I imagined a dumb expression on my face, but realization struck me like an eight-wheeler. Above me, Ryan was already descending swiftly into a hammer fist, dropping like a heat seeking missile about to hit its target. I snapped back to reality fast, and rolled almost frantically to the left. His fist collided with the floor, and made an echoing crack as it did so. Echo.....the crowds were now so silent that you could here the echo. The now opposing threat stood up slowly with his back turned to me, splinters of wood dropping from his bloodied knuckles. My somewhat intimidated eyes glanced over to the point of impact to see a hole in the floor the size of a baseball. s**t....he really was being serious now. If that had hit me.......no...I won't let him get to me. This was how he had always won in our sparring matches. He had a way of getting into your head that could throw off anyone's concentration. But I wouldn't let him do it this time. So I focused once more, trying to feel that adrenaline that I had felt before. He turned to me completely now, and said nothing as he got back into his fighting stance. I breathed in deeply, gazing into his eyes to show him that I wouldn't back down. This was something that didn't need to be expressed with words. We both learned a long time ago that at times like this, we let our fists do the talking.

Not even waiting a second longer, I dashed in for a swift, right jab, and he did the the same leaving us at a stalemate. My fist whizzed past his face and grazed his chin, leaving my right side open. Ryan must've been reading my mind or something, because in the few seconds it took for me to realize this opening, he went in for a kick just as fast. Using my sharpening reflexes, I managed to sidestep the attack, avoiding a decisive blow to the rib. Crap.....I thought as his toes sunk into my far stomach. Though I dodged most of his leg, I couldn't escape his feet, and got grazed by his toes. It stung, and I sawggered slightly from the pain. Ryan, like I feared, picked up on this immediately, and prepared to break my nose with his fist. I don't know how I pulled off this next one, I guess it was just dumb luck. It could've been seconds before his knuckles crushed my skull inward, and his fist was so close to my face, that I could clearly see the red of his knuckles. If this had hit me, I knew for sure that it would be over. I'd be knocked unconscious. But my body wouldn't believe what my mind knew for sure, and that strange slow-mo effect came over me again. As if on pure instinct, my back snapped into a backflip, and his fist went gliding inches over the tip of my light brown nose. My legs rose as an effect from the flip, and met Ryan's chin in a vicious chain-reaction. I heard a loud crack, followed by a dense thud, and the roar of the crowd. I flipped to my feet, and was almost amazed at what I saw. Ryan was on the floor, lying on his back, a splat of fresh blood at my toes. It was taking him a surprisingly long time to stand to his feet, and I stood in my fighting stance, expecting him to snap back at me in a flurry of combos, kicking my ass like always. I think a full twenty seconds passed before I started getting anxious, thinking, "Get the f**k up already dammit!!", and I started sweating, just waiting for him to catch me off guard and beat me senseless. Whispering immerged from the blue judges seat behind me, and the ref nodded his head after recieving some kind of answer from the tired, old, Asian men. When I heard this next one, I swear I almost pinced myself. I was really THAT dumb-founded.

"The judges have declared it a knockout. Case Walker is the victor."

The words kept repeating in my head. I mean, I repeated them myself to fully comprehend what had just entered my ears. Case Walker is the victor........Case Walker is the victor......Case Walker is the victor......did I really just hear that? "Victor.....that means winner right? Yeah, it does! Wow.....I won! I friggin' won!!", I said in an exuberrant tone. Guys, you didn't know how big this was for me. I had never beaten Ryan in fighting.....or anything for that matter. When we were kids, when guys would pick on us, I would always run away while Ryan would stay back and fight. Could you blame me? I wasn't as brave, muscular, or crazy as I am now, and never would've taken on guys twice my size. Then there was this one time......Ryan did the craziest thing ever. When we were nine, he went around tagging the Central Tower, disguised as Tagger X. There he was, hanging off what would be the tallest building in the city, and all I could do was watch, because I was too scared to go with him. When I think about how better he was than me, and what had just happened, its unbeleivable. The crowd cheered for me, and the referee strolled toward me, a huge, golden trophy in his hands. I couldn't help but grin, and let out a stupid sounding chuckle when I saw my reflection in the stainless, shiny token of victory. Camera-men and news reporters huddled around me, taking pictures and asking me questions. "How does it feel to be the youngest champion in 20 years, suceeding that of your sensei, Hiroshi Chiba?", the young, blonde reporter said poking a Channel 5 microphone in my face. She spoke in a loud voice, making sure she was heard over the crowd. My face felt hot, and I was probobly blushing. I had a good reason though. Not only had I beaten Ryan, I beat Chiba-sensei's record as well? The one he always bragged about? This was turning out to be the best night of my life. "Uh......it feels great......really great! I never would've thought I'd make it this far, let alone win the championship!! Ryan is a beast.......so that last maneuver was probobly luck......hehe...", I said not looking at the ground for most of my sentence. The questions seemed to go on for hours, one after the other. All of them personal and more rhetorical after the next. I think I knew now why reporters are called annoying. But of course, I answered every stupid little question to the best of my ability, and was glad when it was over with. After changing back into my street clothes, which consisted of a red shirt, denim jean shorts, black short socks, and all white Nike tennis shoes, I packed my things, and prepared to head home. I didn't see Ryan in the locker, and I assumed that he just left without saying a word. This made stop and think.

Ryan had always beaten me.....and now he lost. The guy was so hyped for this, and I bet he never expected me to win. How could he? Even I couldn't explain how I won. I mean, I could've gone on regularly with my life if I had lost. I had the track team to fall back on. But Ryan......martial arts was pretty much his only hobby.....hell, mabye even more than a hobby. I remembered seeing all the Bruce Lee posters in his room....and the kicking log he had posted in his back yard. He must've practice day and night for this......while track took up most of my own training time. Why did I have to win? I wasn't even going to show up today......but a slacker like me won. Damn it.....I'm such an asshole. Here I am goofing off, faking modesty on camera, while Ryan probobly hates himself, and me, right at this very moment. I slapped my sweaty hand on my forehead, scowling at my own blindness, the slap echoing in the empty dojo. I wanted to apologize immediately for being such an asshat, but he probobly wanted time alone. I knew how it would play out.....Ryan wouldn't talk about the match, and feign happy-go-luckiness, acting as if it didn't happen. Sooner or later I'd play along, and we'd forget about it. Thats what had always happened when we had a falling out. Yeah......it would be a struggle, but everything would be fine. These thoughts settled my mind, and my lungs feasted on the indoor-air I gave them from my long sigh of relief. My fresh, white Nikes walked easily across the slippery, wooden floors as they made their way toward the blue doors, and I slowly pushed them open, creating a faint whail.

I stepped off the worn, grey, cinder-block steps of the gym, watching my every step as I did so. These steps had gotten even worse as the years went by, one of them breaking in two as after the tip of my shoe grazed it. It was a pretty long treck down......or it used to be before Raven Cross took half of the trail out to make a new path for the city, destroying some of my childhood with it. But I had to thank them I guess. If they hadn't shortened the long, winding trail, I probobly never would've made the mad dash to the dojo in the first place. Heh....they really DO care about the people, I said with a chuckle as I mocked the corporation's key slogan. "Raven Cross -your safe place in an unsafe world", I said in my head, imitating the cliche' announcer voice. I found myself thinking about those silly commercials for awhile, and before I knew it, I was already at the bottom of the path, looking at the inner-city streets before me, my attention instantly on a motorcycle parked on the side. It looked oddly familiar......too familar to be exact. My attention span shrunk so that this would take up most of my thoughts, and I scanned it up and down like a hawk. I looked to my left and my right suspiciously before walking toward the old, busted looking red motorbike. It had gotten pretty late, and it was starting to get hard to see, so I wanted to get a better look. My sharp, hazel eyes saw the chipped red paintjob as it glowed in the orange afternoon, and the dirt white, square plate with the "09" in bold black letters. On the leather seat there was a matching leather jacket, with the pattern of an orange flame with red angel wings. Burgandy was on the inside of the coat, and etched in the material were the words "Concussion Crushin' in '03". I knew now without doubt. This bike belonged to me. I had been wondering where it was......how did it get on Terrier Street? Had someone stolen it? Damn it.....the keys were missing. It had became obvious what the situation was. I was dealing with a theif. A no good, dirty, rotten theif. I'll admit, I've stolen a few candy bars or sandwiches.......but never something like this. He broke into my garage.....and stole one of the most precious things I own. The bastard was gonna pay for trying to pull this bullshit.....this bike was important to me. Theres no way I was gonna let some asshole theif punk me. The guy even had the balls to steal the jacket!! I looked in all directions, a growing fury building inside me, and I wanted to beat the hell out of the next person that even stepped within two feet of this motorcycle. I'd make sure they'd never steal anything again. I couldn't contain my anger, and let out a yell born of the most pure hate and frustration, slamming my fist into the wall of a old, dark brown apartment building. Blood trickled down my bulging fist, and spattered to the ground in crimson, fresh drops. But my anger masked the pain.....I couldn't even feel it as it crept between my tightened fingers.

((Random, but here is a pic of Case's bike.))

http://img19.imageshack.us/img19/4867/sizuka9cx.jpg

s**t.....s**t s**t s**t!!!! The f**ker who did this is gonna die!!!

Before I could pull out a gun, switchblade, brass knuckle, or anything i might have found, my burning, red ears heard a chuckle from behind me. It started out as a slight laugh, but then grew into an almost hysterical one. It was a mocking one indeed, and it sounded like it was coming from a teenager. "Hahaha......Hahahaha!!!", the voice continued to crackle at my anger. Could it be the bastard the tried to jack the Izuka? The nerve of this guy......he had the ordacity to show his face after this...and laugh at me?! That was it. This prick was about to get the beating of his life. Cracking my bleeding knuckles, and railed into a 180, turning to the thevious piece of s**t who thought he would get away with his crime. I ran like a mad man, reeling my fist backwards as I prepared to smear that laugh off his bleeding face......the face that still laughed as I came within inches of his face, my platinum rings showing his reflection. "F**king Asshole!!! How dare you steal from me??!", I barked in an angry roar, launching my fist toward his face. But to my surprise, my fist stopped. What the hell.......what the hell.....move dammit!! I pushed as hard as I could, but to no avail. My bulging, veiny fist was locked in his palm, as he clamped down on it tightly. His laugh watered down to a mere chuckle, and his black bangs kept his eyes from being visible. Damn....this guy was able to block my fist with ease....just who was this enigma shrouded in a grey hoody? His other hand was in his hoody pocket, and I could see his revealed forearm, showing little strain. I grit my teeth in impatience, feeling my loosened wisdom tooth from the brawl I had gotten in last week. He set my fist free from his grasp, to my surprise, and I held my wrist to numb the slight pain, trying to manage a cocked brow and a frown at the same time. He should stood there, smiling that sly grin. "Who the hell are you?", I said with increasing irritation in his happy-go-lucky attitude. More surprises were in store for me when he let down his light grey hood. "Dude, Case, chill. Its me.......", the now familar voice said in a cool tone before revealing his face completely. Holy Crap. It was....it was...

"Y'know....me, Ryan?", the aloof teen said in an all too casual tone of voice. What the....what was he doin' here? I thought he left...,,and why was he.......nevermind...If that guy was Ryan...then that meant the crook was still around here somewhere. "Listen!! Some guy tried to steal the Izuka! He has the keys, but he left the bike. He must be around here somewhere....Come on!! Lets g-", I paused when Ryan started laughing again. Just what was so funny? He knew how important the Izuka was, yet he was laughing as if it was a joke. It was starting to get annoying, and I hated it when he knew something I didn't. "Just whats so freakin' funny, huh?", I said curling my hands into fists. Ryan cut down a little on the laughter, and started walking towards the grey curb, taking a firm seat on the edge of the brittle side walk. "Case, I took the bike.....", he said with his slight smile on his face, pointing a thumb at the white, bold words "Mongolian Chop Squad" on his navy blue shirt. I let out a sigh of relief when I heard his relaxing words. If Ryan had the keys, everything was just fine. But....why? What reason would he have for taking it? I pondered upon this, and walked toward him with my hands behind my red-brown buzzcut. "So.....why did you take the bike without permission? I would've let you ride it of you asked me....", I questioned with a tone of genuine query. Ryan was my best friend, and was about the only one on earth that I would let go for a spin on my motorbike. Anyone else would have to pry to keys from my cold, dead hands, assuming they were still alive for even TRYING to sneak a ride. Ryan's eyes narrowed, and his smile faded at these words. He seemed to be thinking of something to say, or trying not to say something. I glared at him in a confused manner, wondering why it was taking him so long to speak up. Well......spit it out, I thought to myself. He sighed a droneful sigh, and finally began to speak up. "I figured you owed it to me.....since you took something precious to me as well.......something I worked hard to get......I deserved that trophy....", he said looking at me with placid eyes. Those same ice cold eyes that I could never forget. Don't.....don't look at me like that.....I couldn't stand to look at him, and averted my eyes to the pavement below me. I was wrought with guilt and apathy, not knowing quite what to say at this moment. What could I say? If I had the keys in my hand, I wouldve rode home right now. But this wasn't reality. I had to face my friend right here and now like a man. "R-Ryan.....look man I'm-"

Suddenly, Ryan burst into laughter once more, making me even more confused and nervous. These mood swings of his weren't normal for him, an I was starting to get a little creeped out, to be honest. "Man Case, lighten up will ya? I was just kidding. You won fair and square. I guess I got too careless, and you took advantage of it. Its no big deal, really. You shouldn't be so gullible.", he said smiling his usual smile. I glared at him, still feeling tense about the subject. His grin was normal, yet somehow came off as feigned. I really didn't buy his masquerade, but I was forced to play along, and took a seat beside him on the curb. "Thats good. I thought I was going to have to give you the trophy or forfeit.", I said with my hands resting on the cement behind me, looking at the darkening clouds above me. Ryan ignored my statement, instead moving on to another one. "Y'know, the train station is finally opening this weekend. Its those Raven Cross suits. They're really making Gaiola a more modern city to bridge the gap with other companies in the country, and expand their empire. They claim to be for the people, but its all politics really. Thats what I think anyway.....", the youth said being unusually philosophical and articulate. I didn't know he actually cared about these kind of things. I know I sure didn't. "Hm? Since when did you get so educated?", I joked with a sly smile, teasing his statement of companies and politics and what not. Fifteen years old weren't supposed to give a damn about the economy. Most of us around here just want to get out of this place. "I'll admit though, Gaiola Urban has gotten way better than it was when we were kids. It may not be such a bad idea if Raven Cross went to other screwed up cities like ours. Don't forget, its because of them that you and me aren't in an orphanage.....", I said speaking in a low tone out my last sentence. Mabye I shouldn't have spoken about that. That orphanage we used to call home had so many memories tied to it. Most of them heart-aching and filled with unwanted nostalgia. Yeah......mabye I shouldn't have said anything about those days at all.


"Heh, I could never forget those days. I remember when you first got that bike. You couldn't even ride that well, and crashed right into Mrs. Robins store. Hehehe.....you were cryin' all day.", he replied cooly, his jet black eyes gazing into the sky like I once was. The black haired youth seemed to be at peace while reminiscing over years passed, and I was glad. Talking about it made the memories seem less painful. This time I let out the chuckle. "Heh, don't act like your so tough. Remember that stray dog we found? His name was Rex. We couldn't take care of him, so he ran away. You were sulking for weeks!", I retorted with a sly grin, holding back my laughter. When I think about it, its kinda funny. Such naive punks we were. Ryan lived his life by the "Boys Don't Cry" rule ever since I met him, and I relunctantly followed suit after a while. The silent rule of manhood. Hah, more like the silent rule of macho bullshit. Such punks we were, or mabye we still are. "S-Shut up! I didn't cry! And his name was Blue!", Ryan said in a soft yet forceful tone before punching me in the shoulder, trying to cover up his moment of weakness. We never did agree on a name. I thought Rex was better, but whatever. That mut was probobly dead by now, or in a pound. I played along anyway, punching him in the shoulder as well. "Yeah yeah sure you didn't ya big baby. And his name was Rex, not Blue." Ryan contorted his face into a frown, and stood up clentching his fists. "I'm the one who found him, so I should get to name him!! Its Blue!!", he said in an irritating scowl. I stood up to face him, looking straight into his eyes. "Please, you couldn't even take care of him!! I'm the one who fed him and played with him, so REX is MY dog!!", I scowled while jerking a thumb at my chest. We stood there glaring into eachother eyes, both of us tense. That feeling you get before a fight. But suddenly, I began to laugh. It started out as a chuckle, but then grew and grew until it was an all-out laughter. Ryan was laughing as well, and we both fell on our backs. My eyes were watery from it, and it was starting to get hard to breathe, but I couldn't stop. It was too funny. "Hahahahaha!!! We used to fight about that all the time!! Hahahaha!!!", I said giggling while wiping the tear from my eye with my finger, Ryan stopped laughing as much as I did, and sat up so that he was sitting on his butt. "Hahaha......not a damn things changed. And here I was thinking that I grew up a little since then", he said with a toothless grin. I returned the smile, and sat up as well. "Heh, thats funny. I always thought of you as the mature one.", I replied with a hint of sarcasm in my voice. It was true though. I had always been a bit of a baby back then, but Ryan didn't really seem scared of anything. I guess fearlessness and maturity were symonyms in my mind. He cocked a brow, and looked at me with a questionable look. "Is that so? Heh.....I always thought of it the other way around. You always used your head, while I acted reckless and impulsive. I think being smart is better than being brave.", the calm teen said to me with his trademark smile. I was surprised by his words of praise, unsure whether or not to accept them. Using my head? There was never any reason behind it. Fear is what stopped me all those times. The fear of falling off the Cross Tower. The fear of getting beat up. They were all the same. But to hear him say that my former cowardice was mature? Now that was something. I simply smiled and shook my head, noticing that it had gotten pretty dark. The streetlight that cast its white glare verified this. My brown eyes took a swift glance at the cheap watch on my wrist, and almost gasped at the time. It was 10:45. Wow....time sure flew by. I stood up and dusted myself off. "Its about that time. I should be headin' home.....", I said stretching my arms out, letting out a drowsy yawn. Ryan flipped his hoody back on his head, and stood up to face me, his hands in his hoody pockets again. "Yeah, okay Case. Some friends of mine are gonna go take the new metro to the docks tommorow. Why don't you come with? Oh! I almost forgot! Heres your keys.", he replied before tossing the golden keys to me. They glimmered in the night sky, and made a jingle as they whizzed through the air. I barely managed to catch them. I tossed tem back in forth in my palm, and began to walk towards the old, red motorbike. Slipping on the leather jacket, I turned to Ryan and nodded my head. "Sure thing. I'll be there." He let out a slight grin, and turned from me to walk in the other direction. He waved to me with his back turned, becoming farther and farther until I could barely see him. "See ya, Ryan.", I whispered before hopping into the leather seat of the motorbike, turning the golden keys in the ignition. The engine rumbled, and I could feel the handle bars vibrating. Not waisting any time, my ready hands twisted the bars, and the red Izuka sped off into the night, leaving a trail of grey smoke in its wake. I enjoyed cruising, especially at night time. Though I wished that I had a helmet, considering that my head was shaved. Buzz cuts and windy nights don't mix. But I had gotten used to it by now, so it was nothing more than a slight irritation. My house wasn't too far off, and I could tell that I was getting closer because of the string of old apartments that came into veiw. I hadn't driven this way in a while, preferring the longer way because of the scenery of the docks. But then I remembered why I hadn't taken this route.

On my left, I saw an old cemetary. I had been there many times in the past, but I had gotten so depressed, that I stopped going all together. But I was fifteen now, and I can't run away forever. It was about time I visited them. I made my decision, and let off the gas, parking the bike on the side of the curb. I hopped off, and walked slowly down the gray steps that led to the graveyard. I walked through the sea of tombstones, taking time to glare at the large crosses that decorated them, and the fresh flowers tnhat lay in front off them. I kept walking towards the back until I was standing in front of two graves. They were placed side by side, and each had large crosses that were almost as tall as me. They read : "Trisha Walker and Dante Walker-proud parents and brave souls." Yes.....these two. I knew them very well. They were my parents. I felt my heart drop, and a lump in my throat as I read the bolt text etched in stone. I felt like bawling, but I couldn't bring myself to tears. I promised....no matter how painfu, I wouldn't cry anymore.I never really knew my parents that much, becausethey were always away. But from what I can remember, they were good people. Its been about seven years since then, and it took me a long time to get over their death. I kept telling myself that they weren't dead, that they'd come and pick me up from that orphanage. That they'd taake me home, and everything would be perfect again. I cried everyday, waiting for that day to come. I wouldn't except reality......I couldn't accept reality. If I hadn't met Ryan that day, I'd probobly have killed myself. Life seemed to get better after that day, and I had almost forgotten that my parents died. I believe Ryan, Mason, and Chiba sensei were my family. But of course, this was a false reality as well. Death....the nightmare that I can never truly awaken from. You can never erase the past. I learned that the hard way. So here I am, standing before you two once more. I'd like to believe that you are both pleased with what I've done with my life, but I can never really know for sure. But I know one thing. I'll continue to live in this nightmare.....this hell. I'll live for your sake, mom and dad.

Suddenly, I heard a rustle behind me, as if someone was walking towards me. I turned around swiftly, but saw only tombstones. Mt eyes looked left and right, searching for what had caused alarm. "Who's there? Show yourself..." I scanned around the graveyard, but saw nothing but tombstones in every direction. I wasn't paranoid....I had definately heard something. Someone was watching me. I began to walk slowly through the gaveyard, sharpening my senses as I did so. I don't know why this person was hiding, but I wouldn't let them sneak up on me. The only sound that was heard was the wind, and my feet stepping against the dirt-brown grass. I stopped instantly in my tracking, my ears perking up. There it was again. Don't you hear it? "Clish....Clish....it was faint, but still audible. The same sound that my shoes made against the grass. He was nearby. I turned around, and clentched my fists. "Ok, stop hiding. I know your there!" Suddenly, a rush of pain shot into my stomach, and I almost gagged. TYhe wind was knocked out me, and I flew backwards like a rag-doll, skidded against the earth. What the hell? Where did that- Crack. That was the sound my jaw made when another blow hit me. Again I was on the ground, blood streaming from my mouth. I groaned slightly, and leaned against a tombstone, trying to see where these attacks were coming from. But everything seemed normal. This place was empty. But that couldn't be so. Something was happening here. I jerked my head to the left, and loud crack followed soon after. A semi crater formed where my head had lain seconds before. The imprints looked like a fist. A fist.......thats it. It was clear to me now. There indeed was a presence here. Only my eyes couldn't see it. But soon thnat would change. I reeled my leg back, and brought it rushing forward, kicking up a thick cloud of brown haze around the area. Outlined in the smoke, I could see a figure that looked to be around 6"5. I cracked my knuckles, and smashed my fist into what I believed to be his face. I heard a faint grunt, and I felt something crack. Looks like I broke the bastard's nose. A thud followed, and I felt the ground vibrate. He hit the ground, and while he lay there, I brought my now dirtied white sneakers upon his face once more, stomping his skull inward. Electricity sparked in the sole of my shoes, and like a fizzled hologram, his full being came into view. He wore a dark blue body suit, which covered his head as well. He had wore a strange, metallic visor over his eyes, which was now spilt in two. On his left peck, I saw a symbol. It looked oddly familiar. A black cross, with what looked like small wings attached to it. Where have I seen that before? I couldn't bring my mind to grasp it, to wrapped up in the situation to focus clearly. Who the hell was this guy, and why did he attack me? My eyes glanced over his hip to see a gun with a silencer at its tip. Active camoflage, and a silenced military pistol......could this guy have been with the military? It made sense.....but at the same time it didn't. Why would the military be after me, an no name street punk? I glared at the unconscious body below me, and looked around the graveyard. It was time for me to get out of here. I began to walk forward, but stopped in my tracks when I heard a loud crackle. It sounded like a tazer or something. I turned around relunctantly to face what had caused this noise, deep down already knowing who was there. Another one, dressed in the same blue body suit. Exept he held a silver baton in his hand, one that crackled with blue electricity. The silent foe twirled it around hisgloved hand, approaching me with dense, echoing footsteps. I held my ground, and got into a fighting stance, preparing for anything this guy might dish out. "You want some too? Okay then, bring it.", I said in a gruff, almost sarcastic tone. I had to show this guy....whoever he was, that I wasn't gonna back down without a fight, even with his weapons and size. I couldve sworn i saw a smile through his navy blue mouth guard, and I squinted into the turquoise glow of the metallic visor he wore over his eyes. He didn't look human.....more like a cyborg or something. He clentched the sparking baton in his hands as he shifted into a fighting stance as well, and we both stood in place, waiting for the moment to strike. The night wind whisped against my face, and made a ghostly whail, complementing to ambiance of this nest for the dead. His black combat boots cruntched against the earth, and mine followed, signaling the inaudible countdown once more. Its ass kicking time.

I rushed forward suddenly, my feet pounding swiftly against the earth, bringing the heel of my palm forward into an open-palm of sorts. He reared his head to the left, and avoided the blow, taking this chance to take advantage of my footing. He brought his leg under mine, and locked it, attempting to flip me forward on the ground. I flipped to my feet just in time, and was met by his shocking blue melee. I barely had time to react, and ducked under the weapon with milliseconds to spare. It was so close that I felt the heat emmanting on the tips of my hair. But even this was an opening to him, and almost as soon as I ducked, his tazer-like stick was about to catch my bare legs. I flipped over this attack as well, and his silver baton grazed the sole of my white Nikes. The bastard, I had just bought these last week. Attempting to get revenge, I performed an arial roundhouse kick in midair, the heel of my toasted sneakers rushing toward his face. But much to my dismay and shock, the masked figure grabbed my leg in mid-kick with ease, and used this the fling me halfway across the feild. I rocketed throught the air like a rag doll, stopping only when my back crashed directly into an olld, brittle tombstone with a sickening crack. It collaped upon collision, covering me in grey rubble. I groaned as I lay motionless on my back....I had never been so beat up in my life. I desprately tried to roll over to my swollen side, and spit up blood as I did so. Shit.....I could barely move. Gritting my teeth in fury and anguish, and struggled to stand to my feet, legs twitching with strain. The nerves in my spine must've been so ****ed up that I could barely stand. Just what the hell was this guy.....there was no way any normal human couldve threw me like he could. Inhuman strength. a shock baton, and probobly a silenced pistol on his right hip. I had wondered why he hadn't just shot me then and there. Finally standing to my feet, I turned to face my gruesome foe, clutching my side. I felt my ribs creak in and out everytime I let out my pathetic weeze. Damn......just one blow and I'm already half dead......dammit....It can't end like this. I let the fresh blood trickle down my lips, and feigned fearlessness as I glared once more at my monster of an opponent. He simply stood there, as if he was enjoying my pain, patting the baton in his gloved hand playfully. Ah....I get it now. This was a game to him. He knew I wasn't a threat from the start, but instead decided to humor me before my death. That sick bastard.......he was enjoying every second of this. Realizing this made me revive my will to live. There was no way I was going to die like this, by a psychopath that I didn't even know. I was gonna die with pride, and wouldn't accept anything less until I slammed this sicko's skull in. But this seemd time unlikely, seeing as he had two weapons on him. I had to even the score....there had to be something around here I could use. My faltering vision scanned the ground where I once lay, searching and searching until something caught my eye. I grinned at this, and began to chuckle. He seemed confused at my sudden excited behavior, and made this evident when he paused. He probobly thought that he had knocked me into a state of mental deficiency, but this was far from the case. "Hehehehe.....I'm sure you wanna know whats so funny, huh asshole? Why don't you try lookin' down there?", I said with a crooked grin as I pointed my thumb at the shovel next to my foot. He jumped slightly, and immediately rushed at me. I kicked up the rusty garden tool with my foot, and caught in my hands just in time to block his baton. We stood there in a dead lock, face to face for the first time. My grinning expression faded, now replaced with fury and strain as I tried to hold him back. Electricity sparked, causing an on-again-off-again glare.I finally let go, and used his strength against him. He fell forward into the empty space where I had once been, and I swiftly swung the end of the shovel in his ribs, causing him to grunt in pain. I grinned devilishly at this. "Payback time, bitch."

While he staggered, I clutched the rusty bar harder, and swung it again with all my might, this time smashing the shovel into the nexus between his neck and the back of his skull. A deep tud was caused from the viscious blow I gave him, but the freak merely fell forward again, not even hitting the ground. What the hell?! He turned around slowly at first, but then swung his arm horizontally at me. All I could see was a blue blur, followed by a bright flash the blinded me momentarily. The next thing I knew, I was flying backward again, sliding through the dirt. I slid for at least 9 seconds, before my back hit a tombstone, halting me in place. I opened my eyes, which had been shut since I hit the ground, to see that I had managed to block the blow some how...again by that weird instinct. The middle of the shovel was white hot from taking to impact, and smoke hovered from the weapon into the night sky. The heat resonating from shovel made my eyes water, and even though my hands weren't in the hot spot, I could still feel it flowing through the shovel. Damn.....One good hit from that, and it would be over. I was surprised that the metal wasn't melted....thats how hot......Wait. Heat.....Heat......Heat.....I repeated these words in my head, a sudden feeling coming into my mind. That feeling that you get when your near a psychological breakthrough. I knew there was something I was missing here.....Yes!!! Thats it!! Ha....Hahahaha!! I have a chance now! If this works, I'm making it out of here alive, just like I'd hoped. The confident feeling rushed through me once more, and I stood shakily to my feet, the rusty metal still sizzling hot. I glared at my opponent, and cocked a brow at what I saw. He was swaggering left and right, imbalanced like he was drunk or something. Everytime he would try to step forward, he would lose his footing and half-trip over himself. Hehe....I guess that last one hit home. I caused the sonofabitch brain damage. I chuckled at his humilating display. "Hehehe......not so tough now huh?", I said walking towards him with a grin, dragging the tip of the shovel in the dirt. I was about to give this guy another shot to the head, but as I prepared to lift up the shovel, I began to feel dizzy. My head started spinning, and the ground felt like jello. It wasn't long before I collapsed sideways. "Dammit.....I guessed I'm even more screwed up than you....", I said with one eye open. It was no use.....I couldn't carry out what I had planned to do to this bastard. I was gonna burn him to death with the hot shovel, but now I could barely stand. Oh well....I had won anyway. No need to overkill. He couldn't even attack me anymore, and it would be a miracle if he could see straight. He still swaggered left and right, and even tumbled over on to his face. I stared at his body, which had stopped moving. He lay motionless there.....the baton was still in his hand. What the hell.....he just collapsed. Persistant little asshole he was, but still human. My fear was uselesss, because even this psycho had a weakness. After standing there in awe, for what I belived to be about 12 minutes, I finally felt my head settle down, and the ground stopped wiggling. I stood slowly to my feet, and grapped my pulsing arm. My eyes glared at the body before me, and this situation looked all too familar. I don't want to go into detail. I didn't wanna go into anything. All I knew was one thing. It was time to get the hell outta here. So without a second thought I began my pitiful excuse for a run, staggering through the rows and rows of tombstones. I breathed heavily, and sweat mized with the blood trickling down my forehead. I ran up the grey steps, and hopped on the Izuka, turning the keys instantly. My clentched fists twisted the bars once more, and I sped off into the night, hoping never to return there again.

The headlights from my motorbike flashed through my eyes, and I hoped it would wake me up from what I thought was a dream. A nightmare. But this was real. This really happened. My head was starting to spin again from the thought of it. I was now just driving, not even heading in the direction home. I couldn't concentrate....this was all too much for me. This seemed like something from a movie....something that could never happen to someone as insignifigant as me. I was literally waiting for Ryan to come out and say "You Got Punk'd" or something. I would blink every three seconds, because I would think that when I opened my eyes I would be in bed sweating. That this day never happened, and that I was still at home alseep. But when I opened them, I was still on the old asphalt streets, now driving at dangerous speeds. I can't focus.....I cant think....Wake Up this is a dream...wake up dammit.....WAKE UP!! I screamed this in my head and shut my eyes closed tightly. What the hell is going on? How could this be happening.....I-I gotta tell Ryan....We gotta get outta here...I gotta get out of this city....I can feel it!! Their all around me......they could be watching me right now!! Dammit! I was losing it....delayed shock of what had happened to me....but I had gotten in many fights and I never felt as paranoid and eccentric as this. I began to swirve the bike slightly, starting to lose control. What am I gonna do....what am I gonna-SHINK.......PING PING.....PING PING PING. My eyes widened when I heard the sounds randomly coming out of nowhere. My right headlight shattered into pieces, and cranked off the bike completely, rolling into the streets behind me. They appeared to be coming from behind me, and I looked at the back of my bike to see smoke resonating from it. Somehow, my eyes began to widen even greater. I.....I couldn't believe it.....There was no way........In my bike, there were 5 huge bulletholes. Green liquid leaked from the engine, and left its trails in the asphalt. I wasn't even watching the road anymore, too totally freaked out to do even think of doing that. The bullets had to come from somewhere......and I knew exactly who fired them. There was no ****ing way......he.....he should be dead.....HE SHOULD BE DEAD!!! But I raised my head slowly, shaking as I did so, to see a dark blue speck in the distance. "..........Son of a...", before I could finish my vulgar sentence, the bike spun out of control, and crashed to the ground, I was flung off the bike, and flew at least 12 feet into the air, before plummenting back into the ground of an alley. I rolled around like a rag doll, while the bike skidded against the pavement, leaving a galaxy of orange sparks in its wake. I lay sprawled out on my stomach, my face buried on the ground of the alleyway, I body was filled with pain, and I couldn't feel my neither of my legs, or my left arm. I lay there, somehow still alive, after banging my head multiple ties against concrete.....I wasn't even quite unconscious. I figured I wouldn't at least past out from being so damn scared....but I couldn't bring myself into the arms of death. The only way I could die now, was if that bastard came here to finish the job.....Yeah, that was my fate now. There was no use running anymore....I couldn't even do that if I tried. The only thing that was semi-mobile, was my half-broken arm, which I used to push my face out of the ground. My face.....It burned....like when you get a new cut and the fresh air gets into it. Yeah....my face was probobly bleeding like crazy. In my blurred vision, I could see it splattering one drop after the other like raindrops. I had never bled this much in my life. Damn......its over....Its really over this time....I used my one good arm to crawl towards the dead end brickwall, and rested my back against it, flopping my noodle weight arms at my side. I glared down at my legs, and saw them for what they really were. They didn't even look like they had any skin left on them, as they were torn up so badly. I could see the speared trail of crimson they left behind, and I knew that I would never be able to use them anymore. For some reason, I felt blank.....empty. Despite the raging pain in my body, and the fact that I knew I was dead, I couldn't feel anything. I felt placid....and I imaginined my eyes were like Ryan's were... one that day that I never wanted to go back to. I lifted my eyes to see what was left of the Izuka, which was now a giant metal heep of junk. I glared at it as if seeing through the piece of crap, finding the memories that were tied to it. They say your life flashes before your eyes when your about to die, but I only saw bits and pieces. That day....when Mason first gave me that motorbike. His voice came into my head.

Case, this is for you. My big bro left me this bike before he died, but now I want you to have it. For a little baby, you've sure had some balls today. If it weren't for you, I'd probobly be dead too. Here, you can even have the jacket......


That voice....that voice that I hadn't heard since that night so many years ago....that night that had been following me until this very moment. I dont know what it is, but I guess the Grim Reaper is a bone with me, because death's been on my ass since that night. This is how I die.....hopeless and struggling. No....not even struggling, I had a blank stare, and I didn't even feel like trying to resist it anymore. I was at a feeling beyond fear, beyond any kind of emotion. At least thats what I thought before the unimaginable happened. The bike, that was the only thing left of my deceased friend Mason, suddenly exploded in a brilliant display of orange flames. The tiny embers danced in the night sky, and burnt wreckage sprayed in every direction imaginable, clanging against the cracked asphalt like a twisted rainy day. A burnt slab slid to my feet, slightly on fire. The distorted text upon it was still legible.....and it read the words "09". If this were a movie, I woul've laughed at this part. But it seemed like another cruel joke that death was playing on me. Mocking me so.....I couldn't take it. I didn't know it, but tear began streaming down my face. Genuine tears.....the kind that I hadn't shed since I "matured". I felt so empty, but even though I felt no emotion, tears continued to roll down my dirty, blood stained cheeks. I said no words, and just glared into the bright, burning flames as they cast their reflection in my hollow-hazel eyes. The police would be hear soon, for the thick blacke smog from the fire could probobly be seen for miles. But they'd find me dead by then, because I was going to bleed to death. A puddle of blood was forming underneath my legs, and my vision got even more blurry by the minute. I stopped being able to hear the crackling of the fire, and my eyes were getting heavy. But it seemed despite my impared hearing, I could still hear something. Doo.....Doo.....Doo...the dense thud echoed in my crippling brain. From my blurred vision, I could make out a figure, walking through the flames, approaching me slowly. It was him. I felt something burning hot press against my forehead, followed by a clicking sound. A gun. So, this is how I would get it. Executing by a headshot....wow, I never saw it like this...but still, I felt nothing as I looked into the distorted face of my assasin. My eyes dared him to pull the trigger, placid and uncaring. "Go ahead you bastard.....finish what you started....end me right here....its not like I can run anyway....", I said in a cold and peircing tone. If those were my last words, then I'd be proud. He pressed it harder against my forehead, and for the first time, he spoke. His voice sounded muffeled by his mask, or mabye it was my hearing. Oh well, it didn't matter now. The last word I would here would be......"Die." I heard the sound of the trigger being pulled, followed by a piercing, silent sound shredding through the air. The sound of peirced flesh immediately followed..........what the hell? Shouldn't I be dead right now? What the eff gives?! The man's gloved hand shook erradictly and thesilenced pistol fell from his hands, clanging on the ground. He backed up from me for three or four steps, but then suddenly collapsed on his back. I stared in awe, wondering what the hell just happened. Is he......dead? How could that be....he shot me, but I live, and he lies there dead....this isn't making any sense. Suddenly, I heard a deep thud in front of me, but I couldn't see what caused it. From my completely screwed up eyes, I could see a tall figure in a black trenchcoat, holding a long, black rifle in his right hand. His back was turned to me. "Its okay, Case. Sleep now.....", the enigma said in a deep, commanding tone. I stared at him for awhile, but then let out a weak grin. "Heh, looks like death hasn't caught me yet....."




*Fade to Black*


((Chapter 2: END))




o[p
 
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Zearth

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Thank you. I'm glad your enjoying it so far. Chapter 3 will be done in....awhile. It usually takes me awhile to finish these. Check periodicly to see if ive updated, and PLEASE COMMENT TO BUMP. I worked too hard for it to be swarmed in kh fiction. And tell your friends about it as well....i need more fans then two. Once again, it may be awhile till I get this fully completed, or even start. But here is the title.



Chapter 3: Welcome To The Underground
 
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Zearth

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((Grrr.......BUMP FOR THE LAST TIME! Geez if you guys like it so much youcan at least comment so it doesn't get swarmed by overrated kh fics.....please tell me there are actual writers left....))
 

Thelonepickle

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Update now, j00! D< I need more fanfiction from teh Shady Child that be j00!

=o

Your writing is improving. :3
 

darkisaac

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Shady-DVS-Hoody-Child said:
((Grrr.......BUMP FOR THE LAST TIME! Geez if you guys like it so much youcan at least comment so it doesn't get swarmed by overrated kh fics.....please tell me there are actual writers left....))

Dude don't bump more than once, if nobody has answered it's either because they're busy, or they don't want to.

And most of those 'overrated' kh fics are actually quite good, so don't go insulting writers, if you come up with an original story good for you!

But most of those KH fics have original ideas, they just happen to have KH characters in them, big deal.


Nice story btw.
 

Zearth

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Okay, but its hard to stand out and have original ideas when theres like 500 different other fictions with the same things. And most ARE overrated, simply because they are all done over and over again except with a few different characters. Seriously, type in kh3 in the search bar and see how many finds you get. That is not good. KH is great, but only when its made by the actual creator. Cheap spin-offs can never be as good as the original, and thats a fact. I was trying to encourrage people to actually TRY to think of their own stories, and creating their own worlds. Trust me, its much less restricting, and because its your own ideas, you can use them however you waant. You can even create something even BETTER than KH. The possibilities are endless. It really makes me angry when people choose not to read something because it isn't KH related.
 

darkisaac

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Don't worry if the people are good writers then they'll know that you don't have to have a KH fic to be good, and those are the kind of ppl you want to read your story, so who cares if ten thousand other bozos don't read your story cuz it isn't KH related?

those are the ppl you don't want to read your story anyways!
 

Darkening kairi

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but some stories do all be the same.
sora returns, kairi's happy.
kairi ask sora to be her girlfriend
sora says yes. than riku comes along....
THERE ALL THE SAME =/

by the way when's the next chapter?
 

Zearth

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I'm still working on it. Yes I know it takes awhile. But chapter 2 isn't even finished. I'll try to get it done by tonight. Anyway, might as well post this. Its the title for CHAPTER 4. I know, its weird, but I love my titles. They're unique :)



Chapter 4

jetblackblues2dg.png
 

Darkness Princess

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O.O This is really really good! *waves fan flag* I like this!! Its sooo... *looks for right word* sorry its too good to describe :D
 
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