Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Falls the Shadow ❯ Introduction ( Prologue )

Falls the Shadow

(Anastasia, anonymous celebrity's muse, walks in)

Anastasia: Since this is not a Humorous Fanfiction, I'm not allowed to stay very long. Just popping in, saying hi, and setting up the boring stuff: disclaimers and such. (she grabs a bowl of popcorn and sits in an area outside of the story) Run info!

D I S C L A I M E R: I don't own Gundam Wing or the characters therein (sniff). They belong to a bunch of Japanese people that I hope won't sue me (smiles and waves). However, Diana Simen, the Sulegna, and all other original characters in this story are mine, and I intend to keep them. =P Keeping an iron hold would be hypocritical (what am I doing with our beloved Gundam characters here? stealing them), but please don't take them, okay?

W A R N I N G S: self-inflicted injury, supernatural stuff, violence/blood and gore, language, rape

P R O N O U N C I A T I O N: Please forgive my ghetto phonetics guide... Simen (SIGH-men), Sulegna (soo-LEG-nah), Wodahs (WOE-dahs), Tsohg (SOHG), Rusaert (roo-SAYERT), Kaivér (kie-VEHR), Leine (LANE), Xaniel (ZAN-iel), Tirips (TEE-rips), Naccel (nah-SELL)

...Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
and the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow

For Thine is the Kingdom...

- from T.S. Eliot, "The Hollow Men"

I N T R O D U C T I O N

He knelt there, holding the knife in his hands, waiting for the unseen voice to continue its instructions. His slight body seemed smaller in the vastness of the conference room, and blond hair cascaded over his cloudy blue eyes.

Without knowing, he knew what to do.

With sudden, impulsive force, he jammed the knife into his throat, then winced as he removed it just as sharply. He fell forward, and watched the crimson pour from the wound as the voice spoke to him again.

'You'll be found this way and survive… we will crown you Wodahs yet.'

And, softly, from his hidden consciousness, he asked:

'Why?'

* * * * * * * * * *

Diana Simen flew up in her bed, hunching forward and holding her throat in imaginary pain. She remained frozen in that position for several minutes, trembling violently in a cold sweat. Slowly, painfully, she pried her hands away and gaped at them, almost expecting to see blood.

She had never had a dream that felt so real.

Still shaking like a leaf, she scrambled out from beneath the covers and went into the bathroom, inspecting her image in the mirror. Dark eyes peered back at her through the tangled brown hair that fell past her shoulders. "You're better than this, you know," she scolded. "You're really letting your imagination get away with you, making up scenarios for that Winner case because he remembers jack squat. Don't be such a moron."

That said, she washed her face and went back to bed, the dream all but forgotten.