Fan Fiction ❯ Trunnon Episode One ❯ Chapter 1

Trunnon
An Original story by Demonslasher97
Chapter 1
Part 1
Witches hour, the peculiar time of the night when a security guard is more on edge than any other part of the day. Henry Davis the security guard of the world bank of Trunnon was no exception, Henry kept the his hand on the butt of his gun. He felt that if he didn't keep it there something would pounce out at him at the darkest part of the night. So with his gun, and his radio to phone in for back up, Henry was safe.

"Cold," Henry told himself, it actually wasn't that cold but he needed to hear his own voice for a type of reassurance. Henry had been the head of security at the bank for fifteen years and was still on his toes about what lye under the black blanket of night. "Come on, just one more hour until shift change, just one more hour until shift change."

"Scared Henry?" Henry jumped at the sound of his name, he whirred around to see the culprit.

"Damn it Zack." Henry cursed the twenty-five year old trainee. "You scared the be Jesus out of me."

"What's wrong old man?" Zack mocked the senior, "Afraid that a witch might come and take you away to boil you in a stew?" Zack laughed, and then stopped, he coughed and then it seemed he was being lifted up into the air. Blood trickled down Zack's chest, Henry watched in horror and then he saw the sparkle of the moon shine off of a black blade that had been used to cut the boy through the chest. The black blade tilted downwards and Zack slipped off of it, Henry reached for his gun.

"I don't think that would be wise old man," a dark voice chuckled, Henry took his hand off the butt of his gun. "Good, besides all I wanted was to make a slight withdrawal." The dark laughter rang out into the night, witching hour had come with a slash.

Part 2
"Hey listen mister I can offer you three lotion bottles for your wife at the price of only five maloons, it's a great deal!" Peter Defaunt the dessert salesman offered a man who would rather spend his maloons on whiskey than this cheap lotion Peter was offering him. "Come on sir, only rarely do you get a deal like this!"

"I don't have a wife," the drunk man said in malice towards this man who had bothered him in the middle of his drinking session.

"Oh a husband then?" Peter said, not knowing the ultimate affect of his words. The drunken man got off of his stool and glared at Peter.

"What did you say?" The drunken man towered over Peter, he balled his fists, threatening Peter to repeat his remark.

"Oh," Peter gulped, "qu-quite sorry, my mouth just seems to run on and on sometimes without stopping to realize what its saying. I'm sorry if I offended you and called you a homosexual, but if you are a homosexual then I'm sorry for bringing out what you didn't want." This only seemed to anger the man, he grabbed Peter by the collar and dragged him towards the door. Peter was flung out of the bar and into the hot forest, he stood up and brushed some leaves off the front of his green shirt and brown pants.

`A probable customer!' Peter thought as he looked down the forest trail. A man clad in black bell bottom pants, a shirt with only one long sleeve on the left arm the other was naked, the man had brown eyes and spiked black hair, he also carried a sword in its sheath tied around the mans waist.

"Excuse me sir!" Peter called to the man as soon as he came into earshot, the man didn't even look at him. "I see that the handle of your sword is a bit worn, I could replace it at a price of ten maloons." This time the man stopped.

"My sword is fine," the man looked at the handle. "There's no need to replace it." Peter was disgruntled, he had to get that money. A few weeks before he had made a deal with some very interesting men, when he found out that he couldn't pay it back he had to start selling items for them and if he didn't get the money by the end of the day then he would be pushing up daisies in some gang members backyard.

"Please sir," Peter begged. "I have a lot of different items, I'll give you a good deal but I need the money." Peter took out a bag and showed the man the measly items he had to sell.

"You have nothing of value for me." The man walked forward along the trail until he was out of sight. Peter stood there holding the bag out, he closed it and turned around, he felt cold hard metal press against throat.

"You are useless," the knife holder said as he spat into Peter's hair.

"I beg you, give me a few more days," Peter begged for his life.

"Sorry deadlines today," the knife holder said as he pressed the knife closer to Peter's throat.

"Put him down," Peter heard the familiar voice of the man who had refused to buy anything. The knife holder tossed Peter to the ground, and laughed.

"You would protect this foolish man?" The knife holder laughed, "It would be a waste of time to just kill him." The knife holder laughed harder, Peter saw the man in black frown and then disappear. The knife holder stopped laughing and looked around.

"You find that is a waste of time to waste a measly soul?" The man in blacks voice was all around them, it bellowed through the forest. "Every soul is important!" In a haze of black the man had jumped down from somewhere in the trees and knocked into the back of the knife holder, he went down to the ground and even further. By the time the knife holder stopped moving he was fifteen feet into the Earth. "He'll live." The man in black was standing next to the hole he had created.

"How did you do that?" Peter asked in amazement.

"That is not important." The man in black replied as he jumped over the hole and started to walk away.

"Who are you?" Peter asked, throwing the pack of junk into the hole, the man in black stopped.
"Hikotsu," the man in black said without turning. "Hikotsu Tarandine."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Short but future questions will be answered, I'm open for opinions, R&R.