Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction / G Gundam Fan Fiction / Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ The Least Expected ❯ Prolouge ( Prologue )

The Least Expected

Prologue

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Yu Yu Hakusho, Ruroni Kenshin, or G Gundam. I also take no responsibility for any hemorrhages, coronaries, recting, or brain tumors reading this story may cause, seeing as you are continuing on at your own free will.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'll be the first to admit it: I do say I'm a bad writer from time to time. Okay, I say it a lot. Even in stories I think are good, like TB. But this is the absolute truth: this story is perhaps the worst ever posted, perhaps even written.

Why I am posting this, you ask? Well, I'm not entirely certain myself. But I was flipping through my journals this early morning in a fit of common insomnia when I came across this story (if it deserves to be called so). So being the way I am at 2:16 in the morning, I decided to post it. So here I am……. posting it……

I present my condolences to Bandai, Yoshihiro Togashi, and whoever created RK. You deserve so much better than this.

This story is 100% unchanged. I corrected nothing, added nothing, edited out nothing. I did not correct any spelling or grammar errors. It is certainly crap in its purest form. I'm ashamed to admit that I'm the main character.

This is not for the weak of heart. It is for those fearless, brave souls who are willing to cross over into the realm of shitty stories where Memento, Gigli, and the Least Expected were spawned.

And now, without further adieu, The Least Expected…

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The slate- blue sky flashed warningly at me as I trudged through the water- logged ground. It was humid, but not raining. It was perfect.

I approached the abandoned house cautiously. There had been rumors of gangs using the abode as their hideout, so I had to be careful. The door creaked open and I peered inside, alert for any possible shadows lurking. Seeing none, I creeped inside and preceded to light the candals.

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Wiping the sweat from my brow, I dusted the house top to bottom. Sweeping, swoshing, polishing, rubbing, making the mansion as beautiful as it had once been, many years ago. All the candles were aflame, but the house still seemed gloomy. I suppose some things are beyond one's control.

The house had 20 bedrooms, but in reality we only needed 16 plus one for myself. I straightened the bedrooms next, assuring that the sheets were clean before turning then back. Most of the bedchambers were almost the same size, all except one. I was unsure of what to do with that one, So I simply loched the door. It has oviously been the master bedroom in it's prime.

Every room had a key. Every key was unique, and all were together on an old brass ring. I had all of them, and kept the ring on a chain I hid in my trenchcoat.

When every square inched had been scrubbed, polished, swept, rubbed, and scouraged, I sat back to observe my work. The sitting was perfect. I had bought enough food to last 17 people for a week, and had stocked up on extra blankets and candles for the chill.

I slipped out of my jeans and tee and into My all black ensamble: baggy black capris, black lace top over a black cami, and my pride black wool trenchcoat to complete the look. I smoothed my shag honey-blond hair back and put on a black lace bandana that had formally been my mother's prayer shawl. I fashioned my many homemade saftey- pin braces around my ankle. My feet I left bare.

Washing off my sweaty make-up and appling more, I hurried down-stairs to wait for the company I was expecting.

They would be here soon.