Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ What If ❯ From the Shadows ( Chapter 6 )

This is going to be a short chapter. I had been planning to put this in from the beginning, and after it was pointed out to me that the story needed a villain, my twisted mind came up with this scenario. Don't worry if you can't figure it out, all will be made clear by, oh, chapter eight or so. There-ish. I think.

Anyways, thanks for reading. I should be uploading chapter seven in another day or two.

Please send me reviews! Thanks to those who have, I look forward to hearing from anyone with comments. I'll take flames, compliments, answer questions (within reason. I don't want to explain what's going to happen later), so talk to me.

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The lab that the man stood in was unknown to everyone; buried inside several thousand tons of steel that was covered in hundreds of tons of sand. The unconscious person lying on the table in front of him was dead to everyone who had known him. And even though he now lived, he would remain dead to them. He would see to that.

"Wake up."

His voice was soft as silk, yet had an edge to it that threatened to cut. The body lying on the table stirred, and the machines hooked up to it continued to monitor it's condition.

"What are your wishes, my master?" the croaked reply was twisted by an unusual accent.

A sadistic smile twisted the other man's face. The blue lights of the room highlighted his pale blonde hair and shined off of the iris' of his blue eyes. "It worked again," he murmured to himself. "I thought it would after the first, but it's good to know I was right."

"Master?"

The man waved his hand at his servant, silencing him. "I cloned myself as a test," he mused. "And now that clone is dead. I will get the one responsible."

He looked down at the man on the table. "I will get back at him with the lowlifes he loves; with the best friend he had among them. That will be my vengeance. That will be my joy."

Monitors issued shrill beeps as the man on the table sat up. Pain shined in his grey-blue eyes, and his black hair seemed to glow in the dim lighting.

"You have adapted quickly," the master congratulated him. "Faster than I thought you would be able to. Come," he quickly turned away and walked across the lab. Behind him, the servant tore electrodes from his body and followed. He moaned in pain as he followed faithfully.

"Master. Who am I? How come I can't remember anything?"

The other man stopped next another table. Lying on it was a large metal cross. "You will be my weapon," he said over his shoulder, "and this will be your weapon. Press here like this, and it separates into two machine guns." He demonstrated the action as he spoke. "For your purposes, it would be best to carry it as a cross until you need it.

"You do remember how to shoot?" he asked after a pause.

His answer was a quick nod. "I am one of the best. I know there's someone better, but I can't remember who."

"That is inconsequential," the man with pale blonde hair waved off the memory lapse. "You will remember nothing about anything. All you will know is that you live to carry out my orders. And you will die to carry out my orders, whichever will make me happy."

"Okay, Master."

The lead man picked up a set of clothes off of the floor and handed it to the other man. "Put these on," he ordered. "In the pockets is money; more than enough for you to carry out your mission."

"What mission is that, Master?" the dark haired man asked as he donned the dark suit and white shirt.

"It is simple, my servant. The previous owner of your weapon was known as Chapel the Evergreen. He is dead, killed in the line of doing his duty. From this moment on, you will be known as Chapel the Evergreen. My servant."

"As you wish."

"And under that name," he finished, his eyes glinting evilly, "you will kill Vash the Stampede."