A/N: This is my first real attempt at starting a fanfic. It will be action and adventure, with some big battle scenes and some smaller ones. There will also be romance, for how real is teenage life without romance?
IMPORTANT NOTE: This is a repost of the story so if it seems at all familiar, it is probably because you read it before. I am going to try and iron out some flaws that you guys pointed out, and then get back to posting.
Prologue
The wind howled, driving the rain horizontally through the streets of night time London. The rain swept streets were completely devoid of human life, no-one wanting to be out on such a night. Only the faint noises of the sleeping city could be heard.
Suddenly, a loud crack broke the silence, startling a nearby cat that had been rooting through some garbage. A blond haired man was suddenly standing in the center of the deserted street. He looked around, and then sped off down the street, his shoes clacking loudly on the hard concrete. He reached a side alley, and he darted down it.
He continued down the alleyway for several moments, before a noise at his back startled him. He stopped, and looked over his shoulder. In the mouth of the alley, there was a figure, long cloak billowing and blocking out the light of the alley way.
The blond-haired man spun quickly on his heel, but when he executed the turn, he found himself still staring at the figure at the end of the passage way.
"Let me go." The man pleaded softly, his voice tinged with fear.
"I've been waiting for you." It said, pleasantly, as though it hadn't heard the man's plea. The blond haired man turned full around, hand buried in his coat, grasping at something. The thing blocking the entrance way shook its head, and brought its hand up, pointing the open palm at the blond man. The fingers closed, and the man in the alley fell to his knees, gasping for breath. It opened its mouth to speak, and this time there was nothing pleasant about the voice now.
"We can't be having any of that can we?" it menaced, its voice filled with hatred, anger, and undeniable power and authority.
"No. I'm afraid that you will not be leaving here alive. Your little friends can never retrieve the information you are carrying. It's much too valuable. If you would be so kind, please, hand it over." It asked its voice again pleasant. His hand opened again, and the man fell flat to his face, gasping in great quantities of air. His hand continued to grope beneath his coat.
"Go to hell, you bastard!" The fallen man gasped, his voice carrying through the still night air. The figure at the mouth of the alley way shook his head in a most disappointed manner.
"You could have just given it to me, and died peacefully. Unfortunately, your time has run out. Goodbye!" It roared, flicking its hand forward, sending the cringing man flying into a wall, where his neck snapped with a sickening crunch. The figure now beckoned with his hand, drawing the corpse toward him. It floated eerily along the ground, and stopped, hovering a foot from the figure, who reached out, and grasped it by the shirt.
"Your rest shall not be so peaceful. You will serve a much greater purpose now." It whispered, almost lovingly, before it disappeared noiselessly into the night.
A/N: I know this doesn't seem like much, but it will be relevant later in the story. I beg you, don't be dissuaded from reading if this seems odd, it will all work out in the end.
Thank you,
Dave
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