SpaceFlare
insert custom title
Okay, I know personally, I'm not a very good prose writer. But I'll try to kick it off. My first fic never made it off the ground and I doubt if this one will. But I guess I'll just wing it and here goes:
Prologue
Life is governed by two major rules. And I, Leon, have figured them out the hard way. Let me begin by introducing these key concepts to life.
First rule: Express your dominance; or be eaten alive by others. Or as others would say it, “Kill or be killed; eat or be eaten.” As a young boy, I was picked upon for being small. I dreaded schooldays; I never came home without a beating from the bigger boys in my school. My parents showed concern but they never put it into action.
I learned to hate. To despise and be cynical of everyone. Including my family. And with this hatred, I started to become what I am now.
It was winter; I was in 11th grade then. I managed to sneak in a switchblade I had picked up from a street fight. That day was when I finally asserted that I was more powerful than anyone.
“Hey look, it’s Leon, the big wimp!” Bernard, the leader of the pack of bullies, taunted.
I stood up from making a snow fort in the middle of the schoolyard and flashed him a fist.
He and his underlings laughed. One of them proceeded to pick up a snowball and heave it at me. I was hit hard in the face and I fell to the ground. I got up quickly, fuming with anger, and threw, not a snowball, but a rock at the forehead of my assailant. The rock smashed into the bully’s forehead. Blood began to trickle down the bully’s forehead. The bully ran into the schoolhouse and into the infirmary.
“You twerp!” Bernard insulted, “You better be hungry ‘cuz were serving you some knuckle sandwiches.”
As Bernard and his boys closed in on me, trying to deliver fists. Being rather small, I would be beaten up if I fought with them. With all the strength I could muster, I drove the switchblade I had kept hidden in my pocket, into Bernard’s chest. Blood gushed out of his chest, and he followed it out with a cough. Taking the knife out of his body, I proceeded to give him three more strikes to the body.
The other boys looked shocked. I kept staring at my bloodstained hands. I had killed a man. Bernard lay on the ground while the pool of blood grew bigger and bigger. While the bullies were left dumbfounded, I struck down another man.
The rest of Bernard’s crew ran away, retreating into safety while I ran off from town to live in exile by myself.
Second rule in life: Sustain yourself and eliminate those who try to stop you.
After running away from home, I wondered how I would live. I began by picking food off the garbage cans in the alleys but sometimes there wasn’t any.
I lived this way for a year; it took me a year to realize that I could sustain myself differently.
It was spring; I was 17 years old. I learned to steal from the morning market stalls.
I lunged through the busy streets, bumping into people at every side. I tried to lose myself in the crowd, but the vendor was persistent.
“Get back here, you rascal!” the vendor yelled at me.
I picked up a rock the size of a pear and blindly pitched it into the vendor’s body. The rock hit his arm and hardly managed to impede him from pursuing me. I decided to stop and let him catch up. When he got near, I took out my old switchblade and drove five swift strikes to the body of the vendor. The vendor’s blood spilled all over the vicinity. People ran away in droves, as they feared for their lives, and left behind everything they had bought from the morning market.
These two principles governed my life for years. Now a third rule was about to be forced into me. When I met the creatures called Pokemon showed up in our streets.
---------------------------
Please review my fic. Suggestions welcome.
Iron and Blood
A fanfic by Lord_sNap
“The great questions of the day will not be settled by means of speeches and majority decisions... but by iron and blood.”-Otto von Bismarck
A fanfic by Lord_sNap
“The great questions of the day will not be settled by means of speeches and majority decisions... but by iron and blood.”-Otto von Bismarck
Prologue
Life is governed by two major rules. And I, Leon, have figured them out the hard way. Let me begin by introducing these key concepts to life.
First rule: Express your dominance; or be eaten alive by others. Or as others would say it, “Kill or be killed; eat or be eaten.” As a young boy, I was picked upon for being small. I dreaded schooldays; I never came home without a beating from the bigger boys in my school. My parents showed concern but they never put it into action.
I learned to hate. To despise and be cynical of everyone. Including my family. And with this hatred, I started to become what I am now.
It was winter; I was in 11th grade then. I managed to sneak in a switchblade I had picked up from a street fight. That day was when I finally asserted that I was more powerful than anyone.
“Hey look, it’s Leon, the big wimp!” Bernard, the leader of the pack of bullies, taunted.
I stood up from making a snow fort in the middle of the schoolyard and flashed him a fist.
He and his underlings laughed. One of them proceeded to pick up a snowball and heave it at me. I was hit hard in the face and I fell to the ground. I got up quickly, fuming with anger, and threw, not a snowball, but a rock at the forehead of my assailant. The rock smashed into the bully’s forehead. Blood began to trickle down the bully’s forehead. The bully ran into the schoolhouse and into the infirmary.
“You twerp!” Bernard insulted, “You better be hungry ‘cuz were serving you some knuckle sandwiches.”
As Bernard and his boys closed in on me, trying to deliver fists. Being rather small, I would be beaten up if I fought with them. With all the strength I could muster, I drove the switchblade I had kept hidden in my pocket, into Bernard’s chest. Blood gushed out of his chest, and he followed it out with a cough. Taking the knife out of his body, I proceeded to give him three more strikes to the body.
The other boys looked shocked. I kept staring at my bloodstained hands. I had killed a man. Bernard lay on the ground while the pool of blood grew bigger and bigger. While the bullies were left dumbfounded, I struck down another man.
The rest of Bernard’s crew ran away, retreating into safety while I ran off from town to live in exile by myself.
***
Second rule in life: Sustain yourself and eliminate those who try to stop you.
After running away from home, I wondered how I would live. I began by picking food off the garbage cans in the alleys but sometimes there wasn’t any.
I lived this way for a year; it took me a year to realize that I could sustain myself differently.
It was spring; I was 17 years old. I learned to steal from the morning market stalls.
I lunged through the busy streets, bumping into people at every side. I tried to lose myself in the crowd, but the vendor was persistent.
“Get back here, you rascal!” the vendor yelled at me.
I picked up a rock the size of a pear and blindly pitched it into the vendor’s body. The rock hit his arm and hardly managed to impede him from pursuing me. I decided to stop and let him catch up. When he got near, I took out my old switchblade and drove five swift strikes to the body of the vendor. The vendor’s blood spilled all over the vicinity. People ran away in droves, as they feared for their lives, and left behind everything they had bought from the morning market.
***
These two principles governed my life for years. Now a third rule was about to be forced into me. When I met the creatures called Pokemon showed up in our streets.
---------------------------
Please review my fic. Suggestions welcome.