|
Pickle_Chan
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Name: Nickname: Achie-san/kun/w
Country: United States
State: Tennessee
Birthday: 10/28/1988
Gender: Female
Interests: Right now, writing this story.
Summary: When a boy raised by a band of bounty hunters and mercenaries is forced to run from his home, where is he to turn? Can he manage to find a home and someone who is willing to take in him and his dark past? Or will he be left to fend for himself against the elements and his past as he strives to prove he is worthy of being a Ranger.
Expertise: Ok, people, I'll try to run this through spell check, but don't worry about any typos or spelling mistakes you see. I'll get around to fixing them someday, if I ever feel like it. This story is just for fun, and I doubt I'd ever publish it or anything like that.
Occupation: Student
Message: message me
AIM:  Cheeriko
Member Since:
5/9/2005
|
|
| Bear
“Hey, kid,” a rough voice said accompanied by a less than gentle
shaking sensation. Kuma snorted and woke with a start, looking up at
Mitchell in confusion.
“What?” he asked drowsily, frowning at the intrusion on his sleep.
“We’re here,” Mitchell announced, “Unless you want to sleep in the car
get out.” That said the man stood back and squeezed between the open
passenger door and a red van, cursing when he stepped in a puddle of
oil.
Hesitantly Kuma shifted so he could peer out of the beaten car.
Towering over him was a large, dank building he assumed was a type of
apartment. The windows had thick coats of dust and pollen over the
glass and upon the walls were small clumps of every type of moss or
fungus he could think of. Kuma turned up his nose at the water damage
that filtered the roofs and floors. With every step Mitchell took up
the rusty stairs he cringed at the horrible shriek the rotted iron made.
“This place doesn’t look very healthy or safe,” Kuma announced as he stood and shut the car door.
“Yeah, but it’s cheap,” Mitchell called back, reaching his doorway and
fumbling with the keys, “And that’s the important thing, right?”
Kuma chose not to comment and began his own ascent up the stairs. Upon
reaching the room Mitchell had just finished swinging the door wide
open and flicked the lights on. “Home, sweet home,” he announced rather
proudly as he motioned to the utter chaos inside.
“You call this sweet?” the boy asked, quirking a
brow at the half eaten sandwiches and dirty clothes assorted through
the room.
“You’ll learn to love it,” Mitchell said with an
indignant snort. Kuma sighed and decided not to argue with the blonde.
“Where do I sleep?” he asked, looking up at Mitchell.
“Actually, I haven’t thought that far ahead yet,” the ranger said with
a shrug, “let me go see what I can dig up...” And he meant that
literally. Kuma could only nod and tried to find somewhere sanitary to
sit as the older bachelor lumbered over the sea of clutter that he
called a living room.
The boy’s rich blue gaze traveled around the room, noting the
collection of clothes, candy wrappers and other unidentifiable objects
that covered the Ranger’s home. Kuma began to wonder how a person could
live in such conditions. He wasn’t known for being the tidiest kid in
the world but he never let things get this bad back home. Kuma froze at
that and shook his head. 'No, that’s not home... Not anymore', he told
himself firmly.
It was several hours before Mitchell came back, seeming a bit winded.
“I cleared out the back room if you want to sleep there,” he said, “I
bet you’re tired, so go ahead and sleep. We’ll figure something out in
the morning, ok?” The only response he got was a stiff nod and the teen
cautiously made his way through the trash and down the hall.
The room was small and only had enough space for a beaten up mattress,
a small coffee table and a window. Both the walls and floors were
stained with water damage and spilt drinks or food. There was one large
crusted spot that suspiciously resembled blood. However, Kuma was too
exhausted to care about that. His body and mind were weak after all the
trauma and unwanted exercise he had been through. Stumbling over, he
allowed hid body to crash down on the mattress like a heavy weight. On
contact a plume of dust and dirt rose from the bowels of the sleeping
cushion with a loud whine of complaint. Every time Kuma shifted even
the slightest on the rough and stingy springs the mattress wailed over
the fact it was being used like an old man who no longer wanted to work
due to his crippled back and hips. Kuma himself began to wonder if he’d
be just as crippled as the old man he was sleeping on in the morning as
he felt his own back and hips start to cramp due to the mattress. The
boy smiled wryly, wondering if that would be the old man’s revenge on
him for sleeping there. With that last thought he allowed the dark
abyss of sleep to claim his weary mind and soul.
When Kuma next awoke he assumed it was sometime near sunrise since he
could see a soft pinkness slowly creeping across the night sky. He
simply watched it gradually spread and warm up the darkness like a
maternal nanny gingerly nudging the day into existence and informing
the sleepy sky it was time for day to begin. The pink began to blend
with shades of purple and orange in a delicate manner as the sun crept
into the sky. Kuma was silent and still, numb in the mind for a long
time before he turned over on his side away from the morning sunrise.
'Now what?' Was the first thought that hit him. Now where was he to go
and do? So much had happened in such a short time the day before that
his head was still swimming. With a sigh the boy began to slowly piece
back together a puzzle of events. It was too complicated to be called a
plot or even a sequence. Everything was just too jumbled together for
it to be anything but a puzzle, and he was sure many pieces were
missing.
Simon was dead. That much he knew for sure. Mitchell had killed him,
and Mitchell was the person who was currently letting him take shelter
in this house.
Kuma sighed softly and bitterly. He wasn’t sure what he felt at the
moment. It seemed when Simon was killed a small part of him died too.
Despite the horrible things the former leader had done the boy still
looked up to Simon as a father. In fact, until just a few nights ago
Simon had treated him like a son. Many of the other bounty hunters
rumored that one day their leader would want Kuma to take over for him
when the kid grew up. So many things had gone wrong... There was so
much he didn’t understand.
'Now what?'
The thought continued to plague the brunette’s mind. He had no family,
at least not one he knew of, and no friends who weren’t bounty hunters
and most likely plotting to kill him. In one night he had lost
everything. A home, friends, family and a future. In return he gained
more enemies than he could imagine.
'That’s right... The others will want revenge,' Kuma realized softly,
'They’ll probably want to kill Mitchell, too. He was the one who killed
Simon...' The boy assumed it wouldn’t take long for them to figure out
what happened and find a new leader. After that they would surely come
to the town and seek vengeance. Guilt welled up in Kuma’s stomach at
that. Mitchell had been nice and rescued him and surely he would die
for his kindness.
Kuma grumbled a few curses under his breath and sat up, ignoring a wail
of complaint from the mattress. He sighed as he tried to find some sort
of answer to this problem but none came to mind. The puzzle pieces of
memories were disordered and chaotic and he was having trouble placing
them together. At times like this, he remembered one of his comrades
say, it was best to look at the problem from the very beginning. He
picked up the first piece of the puzzle.
Things had been changing around the ship for a long time now. They were
subtle changes that no one seemed to notice right away if at all. Most
of them were changes in the other bounty hunters’ behaviors. The laid
back members became more serious and tense, the irritable became
temperamental and the loud mouthed became silent. However, it was a
gradual change and shift in their personalities so Kuma didn’t notice.
Simon had also been changing. He was once laid back and allowed the boy
free roaming on the ship or on missions. As long as the mission got
done successfully and without incident he didn’t care how they did it,
but he started getting angry over small details. Everything had to be
perfect and he always wanted to know what Kuma was up to. He had to
know where the boy was and if he was just a little late coming back to
base then Simon would have his head. However, Kuma stuck it out even
when Simon became raging drunk and lashed out or snarled curses at him.
But why did things change so suddenly? Perhaps if it wasn’t for the
change Kuma could of over looked the truth about how he had actually
been taken from his home so that Simon could get his inheritance and
money. If he was totally honest with himself then he knew he would of
over looked it. As much as it sickened the teen he was horribly devoted
to Simon and he knew it. He knew how wrong it was and he shouldn’t, but
even as he placed the puzzle pieces together he felt tears sting at his
eyes for the loss of his "father".
“I’m an idiot,” Kuma hissed at himself, but was unable to silence his
tears. He roughly wiped at the salty droplets with his sleeve as his
chest swelled and tightened. His stomach started to twist in unnatural
ways as if to thrash against his grief like a fish thrown on land.
“Hey, kid,” the gruff voice of Mitchell suddenly called out from the other side of the door, “You awake yet?”
Kuma jumped and gasped sharply at the sudden voice as he was knocked
out of his thoughts. With a soft curse he took a moment to gather his
thoughts and emotions before speaking. “Yeah.”
“I’m going to get some food,” Mitchell said, “Get a shower and let’s go.”
Kuma hesitated a moment before crawling off the old mattress’ back and
opened the door. Mitchell had already disappeared down the hall so he
said nothing and padded away to the bathroom to clean himself up. Some
breakfast would be good. It was hard to think on an empty stomach and
eating did have a somewhat calming effect...
----
Mitchell flopped himself down in his favorite chair and kicked his feet
on a coffee table with a content sigh. Today was his day off and first
official day of babysitting the witness. Perhaps it wasn’t quite what
one would call a day off, but he didn’t have to go to the office, so it
was a time for rejoicing and beer.
The man stretched and folded his arms neatly behind his blonde head and
whistled to himself as he listened to the water start to run from the
bathroom. Hopefully the kid wouldn’t take too long in there. Mitchell
was always hungry in the morning and hated to wait for anything,
especially breakfast.
A soft ringing from his pocket distracted the ranger and he carefully
plucked out his cell phone and flipped it on in one fluid motion.
“Mitch speaking,” he said.
“Mitch, we’re still investigating the Banks murder and how it’s linked
to Simon,” a male voice, one belonging to a special unit operative and
good drinking buddy, said.
“Find anything out?” Mitchell asked.
“So far we’ve identified that Simon Gauldile was the definite murderer
but we aren’t sure why he killed her yet,” the man said, “Have you
learned anything from that kid?”
“I haven’t finished my report,” Mitchell said, “The kid knows
something, but he was too shaken up to talk about it. For some reason
Gauldile was chasing him... I haven’t figured out why yet. Once the kid
calms down some I’ll question him some more.”
“Alright,” the man said, “Mitch, I’ve got to warn you, the Bounty Guild
won’t be happy with you for killing their leader. There’s bound to be
someone out to kill you for sure.”
“Yeah, I already figured that much,” Mitchell said, “Any ones in particular I need to worry about?”
“I heard there’s one really nasty guy you need to watch out for,” the
man said, his voice lowering ominously, “He was said to be very close
to Gauldile. No one’s actually seen the guy and lived to tell about it.
He’s a sharp shooter who caries dual pistols, but I heard he can use
any gun. This guy’s a genius when it comes to assassination and hitting
his marks.”
“Clever and a good shot,” Mitchell said with a nod, “Anything else you can tell me about this guy?”
“Just what people have called him,” the man said, “He goes by the name Bear.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wahaha. I finally got it written!
I put thoughts or special words in little 's since I couldn't figure
out how to make the text italicized. It was a very tragic moment for me
to realize my search was futile. Oh, well.
| | |
| Papers and Tea
Kuma gingerly sipped on the hot tea set before him.
The soft smell of apple spice wafted from the dark liquid as it dripped
down his throat and pooled in his stomach. Its dull warmth slowly
spread through his body as he watched the mug shiver in his hands.
Despite its heat he felt numb and strangely calm as if he was too tired
to feel sorrow or pain.
His gaze cautiously shifted from his mug to
the messy desk in front of him. It was covered in important looking
papers the owner had carelessly thrown about. Among the chaos were a
few pens, a small green lamp, some white out and assorted rubber bands.
What stuck out to him the most was a picture of a young woman with long
blonde hair, delicately pulled back into a lose pony tail. Her gentle
smile almost seemed to encourage him and he slowly craned his head to
look about the room.
There was little color in the busy building, most in
various shades of gray or blue. Othere desks were spread through the
middle of the room, each with their own serious drones pecking away at
their computers, each eye fixated on the screens as if looking away
would cause their work to flee for the depths of the hard drive. Kuma
noted that a few desks had walls about them to either shut out the
hustle and bustle of the room or box the workers in. The boy watched
these men move about in a purposeful march with something of the utmost
importance on their minds. He shifted uncomfortably and settled down
further in his chair, turning his sapphire gaze back to the mug.
“Ok,” the blonde stranger, now identified as
Mitchell Landry, said as he walked back to his desk with a clip board
and paper. He shifted among the chaos he called a work station and
produced a black pen. He scribbled on a scratch sheet of paper before
turning to the boy.
Kuma quietly followed Mitchell’s every move. Even if the man had saved
him he still didn’t trust this basic stranger.
“What’s your name, kid?” Mitchell asked.
“Kuma,” the boy said.
“Kuma what?”
“Just Kuma.”
“No last name?”
“Nope.”
“How come?”
“Why should I tell you?”
The man sighed heavily. “You’re not going to make this easy on me, are you, kid?”
Kuma was silent.
“Fine, we’ll play it your way,” Mitchell said,
sitting back in his chair, “You ask me a question and I’ll answer it,
but then you have to answer mine, ok?” Kuma eyed the blonde
suspiciously before nodding.
“Good,” Mitchell said with a wave of his hand, “Ask away.”
“Where am I?” Kuma asked.
“Right now you’re in RHQ, on the southern beach front of Irange Island,” Mitchell said.
“RHQ...?” Kuma repeated slowly.
“Uh-uh, my turn,” the blonde said with a chuckle, “why don’t you have a last name?”
“Because I can’t remember,” Kuma said reluctantly,
“I don’t remember my real family and no one on the ship called me
anything but Kuma.”
“Ok,” Mitchell said slowly, scribbling on his clipboard, “Shoot.”
“What is RHQ?” Kuma asked.
“Ranger Head Quarters,” Mitchell said, “We’re sort of like the cops, but we handle special cases.”
“Special cases? Like what?” Kuma asked.
Mitchell smirked. “My turn.” Kuma made a soft huff and pouted.
“What were you doing on the beach?” the man asked.
“Running away from Simon Gauldile,” Kuma said softly, suddenly finding his tea very interesting to stare at.
Mitchell’s eyes went wide. “The head of that bounty hunter guild?”
Kuma started to nod before looking up and glaring at Mitchell. “It’s my turn now,” he objected.
“Right, right,” Mitchell said, chuckling at the boy,
“don’t get your panties in a knot.” Kuma frowned and blushed softly but
let it slide.
“What did you mean by special cases?”
“Stuff normal cops can’t solve,” Mitchell said, “and
we sometimes handle missions the government doesn’t want to get
involved in. Messy stuff.” Kuma didn’t quite understand but nodded.
Mitchell grinned at the boy’s blank, confused expression though he didn’t comment. “Why did you run away?"
Kuma bit his lip and tensed, quickly turning his gaze back to his cup.
Mitchell frowned at the change in the young
brunette. “Ok, different question,” he said quickly, “um...” He quietly
looked over his clip board, chewing on the back of his pen. “You know,
that’s enough questions. You should get some rest.”
“I want to ask you something,” Kuma said softly, “why were you on the beach?”
“Looking into a missing person’s case,”
Mitchell said, “a little girl disappeared earlier today. Her name was
Emily Banks.”
Kuma drew in a sharp breath at the name, tears threatening his eyes. “Did... did you find her?”
Mitchell was silent for a moment before solemnly answering. “Yeah, I did.”
“S... Simon did it,” Kuma said softly, feeling tears
come to his eyes, “He shot that little girl... She didn’t do anything,
but he....” The boy clenched his fists, guilt stabbing into his chest
and throat. Simon had been looking for him. If Kuma hadn’t been near
Emily then Simon wouldn’t have found her and she would still be alive.
Mitchell sighed and ran a hand through his hair. As
much as he wanted and needed answers for his report he could see how
much this was upsetting the boy. “Look, kid, let’s talk about this
later,” he finally said, “You’ve had a rough night and I suggest you
get some sleep. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”
Kuma started to object, but hesitated and looked down. “I have no where to go,” he said softly.
“Oh, right,” Mitchell muttered, “I forgot to
talk to the boys about finding you a place for the night... I guess you
can bunk with me tonight. You don’t mind sleeping on a couch, do you?”
“No,” Kuma said with a shake of his head and shifted
nervously, “Is it really ok for me to sleep at your house?”
“I’m the one who offered,” Mitchell said as he
deftly rummaged through his desk and retrieved his coat, “So just calm
down, shut up and go with the flow already. Geez, kid.”
Kuma frowned and pouted at that before glaring off to the side, earning a soft chuckle from the man.
“You are like a moody little girl, you know that?” Mitchell said.
“Shut up,” Kuma grumbled with a deep blush, “I’ve had a rough night.”
“Right, right,” Mitchell said as he gathered his dark over coat, “Let’s go.”
Kuma unsteadily rose to his feet, his legs feeling
thick and heavy from the burnt out adrenaline that had gathered in his
muscles. The boy shivered again as he downed the remainder of his tea
before setting down the mug.
Mitchell snagged a pair of keys off the desk before
motioning for the run away to follow him out to his car, or at least
the boy assumed it was a car. It was old with sickly green paint that
was slowly peeling off. The roof seemed to sag inward and the covering
was almost completely rotten away.
“That’s a really bad car,” Kuma said bluntly.
“Psh, what does a kid like you know,” Mitchell said, “this is a classic.”
Kuma quirked a brow but said nothing as he slid into
the worn leather seats, kicking away some spare trash from his feet.
The boy shifted and tugged the seat belt over his shoulders and slid it
into the buckle with a dull click. Mitchell was soon to follow, but he
skipped the harness of a seat belt and simply shut the door and turned
on the motor. It sputtered a few times, not making Kuma feel any safer
in the old contraption, before finally starting and they were off.
Kuma kept his face low, mind distant and far away as
he listened to Mitchell’s out of tune singing that overpowered a jazz
singer on the radio. Part of the teen was curious and desired to look
out the window, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. For some reason
he didn’t feel he had a right to look away from his damp shoes. With a
weak sigh he leaned his head against the window and allowed himself
some much needed sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sorry it took me longer than I wanted to get this typed and ready. T_T
*sobsob* But I finally got it here. Not a very eventful chapter, but at
least you know some of what's going on. *shrugs*
| | |
| Lost Boy
The cold fiery adrenaline pumped through his veins,
propelling him forward through the death trap that had once been his
home. With a soft grunt he forced his way through the large metal doors
and onto the ship deck. He could hear them coming, coming for him. His
rich blue eyes darted about for an escape route, hoping, praying for a
small boat or other escape vehicle but, as was his luck, there was
nothing.
He gasped softly when he heard the angry voices grow
louder. His chest swelled and tightened with icy dread. They couldn’t
catch him, he would die before he let them take him again. Acting
before thinking he jumped off the rail, plummeting the two story drop
into the murky water.
The waves were surprisingly warm and gentle, but he
wasn’t sure if it was from sympathy or mock kindness, teasing him with
the sensation of a loving embrace from his so called father. With a
bitter snarl he tore away from the water and pushed it aside, throwing
it behind and away from his body. He attacked the surface of the cruel
liquid with every stroke as he dragged his body further and further
away from the battle ship of bounty hunters that were no better than
pirates in the end. His only family.
The boy lost himself in his struggles, his mind
becoming thick and heavy with fatigue. Everything felt like an unreal
dream. His body became merely a puppet he controlled from far away and
nothing more. It wasn’t until wet sand brushed against his legs that he
felt the weakness and pain drag down on his arms and legs. Gasping in
sharp gulps of air that stabbed into his chest then was savagely ripped
out with every breath, he pulled himself from the surf and collapsed
against the sand.
The young teen whimpered softly, pulling his knees
close as the pressure of the situation fell on him like an inescapable
weight. Now that he couldn’t run away anymore, his sorrow caught up
with him and he sobbed. The recent events of the past few days began to
viciously attack his memory, heart and wounded soul.
It had all gone so wrong. What happened to the days
when he was simply a child they had rescued and dragged in? No one was
ever particularly kind to him but never cruel. He even looked up to the
leader as a father. Where had the trust and affection gone? Did it
change when he realized he hadn’t been rescued, but kidnapped from his
home for money? Or was it when his ‘father’ turned violent with alcohol
and cursed him, spilling the truth and admitting how he killed had
brutally the poor boy’s family just to take him and get a hold of his
biological father’s fortune? Everything had changed so quickly. He once
admired them as powerful bounty hunters, but in the end they were
nothing more than pirates.
The boy had wanted so badly to be like them, to be
one of them even if they never excepted his presence. Why he pushed
himself so hard he forgot. It might have been for affection from his
‘father,’ but now it was all too obvious that love had been one sided
from the start. His ‘father’ never cared nor loved him. What a stupid
child he was to have ever believed otherwise.
“Mister?” a soft, quiet voice asked. The boy turned
his dark gaze on a small girl who couldn’t have been over ten years of
age with short, dark brown hair, almost black, and pale skin. Her shy
ebony eyes followed his movements as she remained partially hidden
behind a tree. “Mister, are you lost?”
The boy laughed bitterly. “You could say that,” he finally said, a sad, miserable smile on his face.
“Where is your home?” the little girl asked.
“I don’t know anymore,” the boy admitted, forcing
himself to sit up, “I used to think it was on the sea, but now I’m not
sure. Maybe I never had one to begin with.”
“That’s sad, mister,” the girl said softer.
“I guess so,” he said with a shrug, running one of
his hands through the now dry, salty mess of chestnut brown hair. He
grimaced at the feel and put his hand down again.
“Mommy says home is where people love you,” the girl said, voice still soft.
“Then I definitely don’t have one,” he said with a bitter chuckle.
“Want to borrow mine?” the little girl asked, “my
name is Emily Banks. You can borrow my home until you find yours...
It‘s on the other side of the hill.”
The boy stared at Emily for a moment before smiling
weakly. “No thanks,” he said, touched by her offer, “your mommy
wouldn’t want someone like me hanging around. Besides, I’d only bring
you guys trouble.”
“Why?” Emily asked.
“Because... Well, let’s just say there are bad people who might bother you guys with me around,” he said.
“I don’t understand,” Emily said softly.
“And it’s best you don’t,” he said, slowly pushing
himself to his feet. He still felt weak but he needed to move on before
anyone else could stumble on him or Emily. The last thing he wanted was
to put a little girl in danger. “Nice meeting you, kid, but I need to
go.”
“Ok, bye, mister,” Emily said softly, watching the boy.
The boy only smiled at her and nodded before forcing
himself to walk down the beach. He sighed and treaded along, wondering
where he would go and what his next move would be. He hadn’t honestly
thought ahead before he jumped ship. Now that he had escaped he
couldn’t figure out what he would do with himself. Perhaps he should
have taken up on that little girl’s offer... No, that would only bring
them grief and trouble. If he could get some work in the nearest town
then maybe he could save up enough money to travel somewhere else or he
could find someone to take him in. It was a long shot but what choices
did he have? People didn’t usually take kindly to strays or runaways.
Loud thunder crashed against his ears, causing him
to jump and freeze in place. No. Not thunder. Something far more
dangerous and terrifying. His blood turned cold as he forced his head
to turn and watch Emily’s dead body drop to the ground behind him. Her
attacker sneered at him. “Simon,” he whispered, voice broken and raw
with terror.
“So you thought you could get away from me,” the
pirate captain snickered, “silly, silly Kuma. You belong to me. Now
come ‘ere, boy.”
“You... You killed her,” Kuma said softly, shakily,
as if he couldn’t understand what had happened, “you killed that little
girl...”
“Get over it, ya’ dumb brat,” Simon snorted, “she was in me way. Now come ‘ere before I lose me patience.”
Kuma could only numbly shake his head and take a few
steps back, tears glistening in his eyes. He barely choked out a soft
no before turning and running off through the sand as fast as his legs
would take him. He could hear the crunch of his pursuer’s boots against
the sand coming for him, slowly gaining with every step. Kuma began to
cry as he ran, shutting his eyes tight while his heart thrashed in his
chest, desiring a freedom he knew would never come. It was only a
matter of time until it was all over and he would be theirs again.
“Help,” he finally screamed out without thinking, “someone help me!”
Cruel laughter met his ears from behind. “No one can save you from me,” Simon chuckled darkly.
“No,” Kuma sobbed out bitterly, trying to move
faster, “please! Somebody, anybody, help me!” When an arm suddenly shot
out and wrapped itself about his chest, pinning his own limbs down he
screamed and thrashed, trying to break lose from the iron grip.
“Be still,” a different voice, one the poor boy didn’t recognize, hissed softly.
Kuma shivered and opened his eyes, craning his neck
to try and see who had him. It was a tall man with short, curly blonde
hair and hazel eyes that held him captive. He had dark navy clothes
that fit loosely under a large, brown over coat. It was hard to tell
for sure, but he looked like one of the beach patrol officers and held
a rifle raised at the pirate captain.
“Who are you and what do you want with this boy?” the stranger asked, narrowing his eyes at Simon.
“He’s me kitchen boy,” the captain snarled, “hand ‘em over. He belongs to me.”
“No, please,” Kuma begged the man, “he’s just a
pirate, a dirty pirate! He killed a little girl. Don’t let him take me
again!”
The stranger looked from Simon to Kuma then back,
his frown deepening. “I don’t believe either of you,” he finally
concluded, almost breaking the captive teen’s heart.
“No,” Kuma all but sobbed out, breaking into tears now that he knew his fate was sealed.
“But I’m taking this kid with me,” the man added,
holding Kuma closer, “he obviously doesn’t want to go with you so I’ll
just keep him myself.”
Simon snarled and raised his gun but he wasn’t fast
enough, and a cold bullet found it’s way from the stranger’s rifle to
his heart. The crazed pirate’s eyes widened with shock and strangled
croak was all he could manage to gurgle out as blood filled his lungs
and mouth. He stared at Kuma with his glazed eyes and, for a brief
moment, Kuma thought he saw regret and sorrow filter through the
pirate’s vision before his ‘father’ fell dead before him. The boy
shuddered and buried his face against the stranger.
“Shh,” the stranger soothed out, hugging Kuma a
little tighter before releasing his hold, “come on, kid, let’s get you
cleaned up.”
Kuma weakly nodded and followed his savior numbly to his new home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thus ends chapter one. <.< Reviews are welcome, and don't worry
about the spelling mistakes if my spell checker didn't catch some.
| | |
| Well, everybody, I
decided to post my story on the net over the summer, so all my beloved
friends can read it (along with whoever just happens to run into this
site). Anyway, I'll be sure to post the first chapter tomorrow unless
school interferes. Hope people like my story.
| | |
|
