11-05-2008, 08:42 PM
This is my first try at a fan fic. Please rate and review. Any ideas or suggestions will be appreciated. I might even use some of your ideas in my fan fic!
Prisoner of Justice
Episode 1 (Click to View)
The rain fell down in buckets as he made his way down the dark street. A faded lamp was the only light that shone on the cracked sidewalk, except for a few windows facing the street where the light slipped through the thin slats of the blinds. He wrapped himself up in his coat and attempted to walk quickly without stepping into any puddles.
As he turned the corner, the scene became unfamiliar. He had never been this deep into the “bad part” of Treque before. This was East Treque, a place known for the illegal Cage Duels that still frequently took place. Kiyel had heard about such duels, but had never participated in one before, and didn’t plan to any time soon. In fact, the only reason he was down here in the first place was that he had received a note at school instructing him to go there, or else he would be in serious danger.
He glanced at his watch. It was 3:17 in the morning. Why wasn’t he in bed, he said to himself. He tried to calm down himself by saying that not all East Treque was bad, but he was not entirely reassured. He had brought his best deck just incase anything went wrong and he would have to fight, yet he hoped he wouldn’t be forced to. He had heard that the East Treque duelists, who called themselves “The Taipans,” were some of the toughest duelists in the city. He shivered.
Out of the gloom came a cloaked figure of tall countenance, his face hidden in the fog. He came up and whispered to Kiyel,
“Are you the one?”
Kiyel didn’t answer.
“Are you Kiyel?” he asked again.
“What is it to you?” replied Kiyel, cooly. He was not ready to divulge his name to a total stranger at three in the morning unless he received some more information. The stranger seemed to understand.
“Come with me,” and he clutched Kiyel’s hand in his. Never had Kiyel felt such a clammy hand in his life. His fingers felt like they were being wrapped in a wet dishtowel. He looked at the man who was now leading him down the street. The man’s white hair covered both his ears and his cheekbones. All Kiyel could see was the man’s bright orange eyes, his long, hooked nose and a tattoo of a snake running down his arm.
“Are you familiar to this part of town?” the man asked, but Kiyel didn’t hear what the man said then.
All he saw was the man’s forked tongue.As one of the Taipan members led Kiyel down the street, his chances of escaping grew smaller and smaller. If he shouted for help, who knew what the Taipan member would do to him. Instead, he decided to play it cool.
“What’s your name?” Kiyel asked of his captor.
“My name? What’s it to you?” he replied, quoting the very words Kiyel had said to him. They walked on in silence as the rain fell harder down onto their already soaked figures.
Suddenly, the Taipan whisked Kiyel into an alley and, opening a termite-eaten door built into one of the buildings, climbed up the stairs, dragging Kiyel behind. Thoughts raced through Kiyel’s mind as he mounted the rickety stairs. What does he want with me? What could I possibly do for him? These questions were left unanswered as they entered the room.
The room was old, musty and dank, with little furnishings, except for a chair in the corner, and a table in the center of the room with a pile of Yugioh cards spread on top of it. Kiyel was shoved into the chair.
The Taipan began,
“So Kiyel, I take it you received my message. Now, you’re probably wondering what this is all about, right? Well, I don’t know yet either, so I suggest we both find out.” He walked over to the table and sorted the cards into stacks. Some stacks were taller than others and some were left fanned out on the table.
“Now,” he hissed. “Pick a card, any card.”
As he turned the corner, the scene became unfamiliar. He had never been this deep into the “bad part” of Treque before. This was East Treque, a place known for the illegal Cage Duels that still frequently took place. Kiyel had heard about such duels, but had never participated in one before, and didn’t plan to any time soon. In fact, the only reason he was down here in the first place was that he had received a note at school instructing him to go there, or else he would be in serious danger.
He glanced at his watch. It was 3:17 in the morning. Why wasn’t he in bed, he said to himself. He tried to calm down himself by saying that not all East Treque was bad, but he was not entirely reassured. He had brought his best deck just incase anything went wrong and he would have to fight, yet he hoped he wouldn’t be forced to. He had heard that the East Treque duelists, who called themselves “The Taipans,” were some of the toughest duelists in the city. He shivered.
Out of the gloom came a cloaked figure of tall countenance, his face hidden in the fog. He came up and whispered to Kiyel,
“Are you the one?”
Kiyel didn’t answer.
“Are you Kiyel?” he asked again.
“What is it to you?” replied Kiyel, cooly. He was not ready to divulge his name to a total stranger at three in the morning unless he received some more information. The stranger seemed to understand.
“Come with me,” and he clutched Kiyel’s hand in his. Never had Kiyel felt such a clammy hand in his life. His fingers felt like they were being wrapped in a wet dishtowel. He looked at the man who was now leading him down the street. The man’s white hair covered both his ears and his cheekbones. All Kiyel could see was the man’s bright orange eyes, his long, hooked nose and a tattoo of a snake running down his arm.
“Are you familiar to this part of town?” the man asked, but Kiyel didn’t hear what the man said then.
All he saw was the man’s forked tongue.As one of the Taipan members led Kiyel down the street, his chances of escaping grew smaller and smaller. If he shouted for help, who knew what the Taipan member would do to him. Instead, he decided to play it cool.
“What’s your name?” Kiyel asked of his captor.
“My name? What’s it to you?” he replied, quoting the very words Kiyel had said to him. They walked on in silence as the rain fell harder down onto their already soaked figures.
Suddenly, the Taipan whisked Kiyel into an alley and, opening a termite-eaten door built into one of the buildings, climbed up the stairs, dragging Kiyel behind. Thoughts raced through Kiyel’s mind as he mounted the rickety stairs. What does he want with me? What could I possibly do for him? These questions were left unanswered as they entered the room.
The room was old, musty and dank, with little furnishings, except for a chair in the corner, and a table in the center of the room with a pile of Yugioh cards spread on top of it. Kiyel was shoved into the chair.
The Taipan began,
“So Kiyel, I take it you received my message. Now, you’re probably wondering what this is all about, right? Well, I don’t know yet either, so I suggest we both find out.” He walked over to the table and sorted the cards into stacks. Some stacks were taller than others and some were left fanned out on the table.
“Now,” he hissed. “Pick a card, any card.”