[WP]There were eight swords, and each sword could control an element: earth, water, air, fire, light, darkness, life, and death. You somehow managed to find the Life and Death sword.
It was by a stroke of pure luck - nothing, nothing but pure luck, that I found the two most iconic of the legendary swords.
Or so I thought.
Fire. Water. Earth. Air. Light. Darkness. Life. Death.
Created by the Almighty, using the sun as his very furnace, these eight swords were sent to angels so that they would be used to properly watch over the earth. Lucifer got control over the Death sword, and soon, the war was waged in Heaven for control of the throne.
Lucifer lost, and was banished to Hell, but not before he'd lost his sword. He had to fashion something else - the scythe that he gave his son, Death, to carry. Death was permitted by the Almighty to operate as a force of nature independent of the influence of either side and was allowed to harvest souls as he saw fit, plunging them into seconds of terror before he took them with him.
He was allowed to take anyone he pleased, so it was up to the Almighty to save those he deemed worthy of salvation.
The rest of the swords were scattered all over the world - darkness was once used by Hitokiri, a dangerous ninja during the Tokugawa shogunate that blended with the night like he was a part of it - striking and returning to the darkness he came from.
But today, not much was known about the whereabouts of these eight swords.
Until two days ago.
******
The shootout must have been heard by someone other than me. Yes, it took place in a remote location outside the urban or suburban area, but at least someone must have heard it. But nobody came to the site. When the shooting stopped, I left my shack by the river and went to the site, but all I saw was carnage.
Four cars, all riddled with bullets. They were both moving in opposite directions, but one of the cars coming had blocked off the road, meaning it was an ambush. Neither of the 13 men from both parties survived the shootout.
I quickly picked up their guns and searched through their pockets for any spare change I could find. Maybe when I was 10 and innocent, I would have viewed this as sacrilegious. But now, I saw it as survival.
They had a lot of money on them, which they couldn't use now that they were dead. There was no reason for me not to help myself.
Carrying my loot back to my shack, I opened the door and threw them all on the ground, turning to see an old man sitting on my favorite chair. He helped his stomach and winced in pain, carrying a guitar case on his laps. His eyes twinkled when they met mine, but he winced as he let the guitar case fall down and kicked it towards me.
"Is THAT a bomb or what?!" I asked, freaking out already.
"No, it's not. It's life and death..."
"Bro, I think you lost too much blood! You're halluc..."
"Asides from the fact that I am dying from this gunshot wound in my abdomen, I am PERFECTLY FINE!" He growled.
"Look, Vince..."
"How do you know my name?!"
He smiled. "There's a lot about your identity which you don't even know. I believe your father taught you fencing before he died, right?"
I nodded, watching as the labored to breathe and make his final statements.
"The address is written on the inside of the case. Run, go to that address. Go, just go. Hide...hide! They are... coming... Vince... Go..n-n-now...." the man said, slumping in the chair and giving up the ghost.
I walked over and tapped him. "No man, no. You can't fie here! Who the hell are you? Who shot you? Where are you coming from? Who's coming? Why should I run?"
But these questions would not be answered, because the one being questioned was already dead. He had been shot. Why did he then expend all his last strength trying to get across a message to me? About an address?
I opened the box, and before I could look for the address the glint of a blade hit me. As I looked down, I saw it was two blades actually. Two blades left in the hollow cavity where the guitar was meant to be. I panicked and shut the case.
What the hell was that?
Opening the case again, I noted the address as I packed a few clothes and essentials. I quickly carried all those, got on my tricycle, and drove off. There was an ambulance on the road, driving towards the scene of the shootout. Its plate number flashed briefly before my eyes. FK2334-023.
Within minutes I was headed for the urban area, where the address was located.
******
The two men looked around the tiny house for the objects, but they couldn't be seen. All that was there were a few personal belongings, furniture, food, and a dead man in the chair. Their target.
"Well his body is here alright, and the clothes' drawer seems to have been ransacked. I think the boy may have run away."
"You think? Congratulations, Inspector freakin' gadget. Of course, he ran w=away." the leader said. "And the only reason he would be running is if the dead b*stard here has given him the objects."
"Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn. What do you think we should do man?" the other asked.
"Take a bus to New Mexico, join a Mariachi band, and live out the rest of our lives as gin-drinking, easy-going musicians."
"Really?!" the other guy asked as he beamed.
"No you freakin' moron, we go find the boy. And fast, before the Boss gets mad.
******
Alright, guys, I decided to do something for NaNoWriMo, which stands for National Novel Writing Month. It holds mostly in November and encourages authors and writers to create a 50,000-word book in a month. Of course, you might not reach the number of words, but the goal is to inspire you to put in work at writing something.
This is my little teaser for what I'll be doing in November, so enjoy this and anticipate!
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