"Our little group has always been, and will always be, till the end..." *** The year was 1991 when our story really began. The young boy shivered as he watched the news program unravel the events of the past few days. The reporter on the screen was one he had met earlier that day, but she looked prettier on TV. "It is on this Christmas day, that we bear witness to one of the most gruesome slayings in American history..." She was holding a microphone in her right hand, and fumbling with a device attached to her ear. The boy tried to wrap himself in a blanket that had been provided for him, but he felt himself not able to get warm at all. Some of the things he had witnessed this day were more than any child could bear. "...and although we were not allowed inside, some crutial details have been released to us. It seems that a small town in Ohio was wrecklessly attacked by a man, wearing a joker mask..." The boy shivered again. He had seen the man, himself. It was more than the boy wanted to think about. If he closed his eyes, even to blink, he could see the mask's face burned on his eyelids. "...As of yet, we have one confirmed survivor, a young boy. His name is being held from us, but he is unharmed..." It was weird to see this. The young 'Scottie', as he used to be called, had always dreamed of being on television, but not like this. This was more like a horror film. "...All we can report for now is that the criminal is on the loose, and that the police will track him down, provided they find a few leads." The boy promised himself he would never sleep again. He could see the man's body, walking away from him, in his mind. He was tall, thin and wiry. He held in his hand a scythe, reminiscient of the one his own father had often used while farming. Young Scottie Craven's life started on the verge of madness, in and out of institutions, foster homes and on various drugs to keep him stable. Those were part of this boy's future, though. For now, regardless of his promise, the boy fell asleep. And our story started, simple enough, with the brutal slaying of a small country town. A town called Stow, Ohio. *** Presenting: An alternate-universe fic, based on the "Culture Shock" series by Gitaro the Metalhead. Trial by Blood: In the end, ten people must surivive, but two must prove their courage... Prologue: Introductions Based on the Tenchi TV series, without any movies Concept and Idea by Scott Craven co-written with Gitaro the Metalhead *** Scott stood at the edge of the bus stop, smoking his cig- gerette. It was one of many addictions he had suffered since his encounter, nine long years ago. But he was a different person, then. He was weaker, of course... and younger... more naive. He took one last drag, and tossed it to the ground. He stepped on it, rubbing it into the pavement with his heel. < Nasty shit, really... > He thought to himself. Scott looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person he was supposed to meet. He had only a meager description. Most of the people in Japan looked the same. All of them wearing business suits, marching around him. He stuck out like a sore thumb. Not only was he white, and obviously foreign, but he was a good foot taller than everybody around him. It sucked being so damn tall. Not that he would have been helpless here. Since he was small, he was fascinated by Japan. He learned some of their history, some of their language, some of their customs... it was like an escape from his past to learn about a different world. But for now he was just waiting. Regretfully, he pulled out another ciggerette, and lit it. < I hope I got off at the right stop... > He thought to himself. *** "So, how's everything going, Tenchi?" Nobuyuki asked his son. They were sitting at breakfast, and he was going to be going to work pretty soon. His son seemed to be having difficulty remembering something. "I don't know, dad..." Tenchi took another bite of his food. "There's something in the back of my mind, trying to tell me something... I just can't think of what!" "Well, it sure is nice of you to visit the house off and on, anyway. I know you and Ryoko are having enough trouble trying to get your apartment downtown settled and all..." Sure enough, this was a few years after all of the hassle with Kagato. Things were very different. It was only last year that Ryoko and Tenchi had gone on a date, and things had rapidly picked up from there. The two had moved out only a week ago. Mihoshi and Kiyone had since moved into Tenchi's old room. Kiyone insisted on paying rent, but Nobuyuki would always end up sneaking the money back into her purse, one way or another. Ayeka and Sasami would occasionally drop by, but their visits were becoming less and less frequent recently. They were on the other side of the galaxy for the moment, discussing border treaties. "Maybe you were trying to remember joining me in the bath, for some...entertainment" Ryoko looked at Tenchi, seductively. "No... that's not it..." He scratched his head. Ryoko's remarks didn't leave him feeling nervous anymore, like they used to. "But I'd like to later.." Nobuyuki smiled at his son wilely. Tenchi continued. "Let's see, today's sunday..." Nobuyuki stopped his son mid-sentence. "No, actually it's monday... why would I be going to work, otherwise?" Tenchi's eyes suddenly went wide like saucers. "OH MY GOD! I FORGOT ABOUT....!" Tenchi ran outside, forgetting everything about breakfast, and such. He jumped on his mo-ped, and high-tailed it downtown. "What did he forget about?" Ryoko wondered. "Something about a foreign visitor he was expecting." Nobuyuki answered. "Oh, yeah. I almost forgot, too." *** Scott slowly drank his tea. He had waited nearly an hour for Tenchi to show up, but to no avail. So Scott decided to get something to drink, while he watched out the window for signs of anything peculiar. Eventually, he saw a rather stressed out boy, wearing a funny helmet, on a mo-ped. The boy drove up and down the street, watching the bus-stops like a hawk. < I guess that's him... > Scott thought. He paid for his tea, and went outside. Almost immediately, Tenchi saw him. < Man, that guy is tall! > Tenchi gaped. < He's freakin' short!! > Scott thought. Tenchi parked and removed his helmet. He seemed like a pretty decent guy. Scott seemed to be able to sense the kindness in him. After all, Tenchi was a pretty kind guy. Kindness almost oozed from his ears. "So... you're Tenchi?" The boy that had slain Kagato now stood more grown up. He even had a small mustache, and a small goatee. They were both Ryoko's idea, but Tenchi kindof liked them. "Mmm-Hmm." Tenchi smiled. "And I guess you're the guy that the Culture-Shock-Experience company sent here, right?" Scott smiled. "Yeah... Thanks for offering to be a host, man. I appreciate it." Scott had signed up for a program that would immerse him in Japanese culture. And fortunately for Tenchi, although he didn't know it yet, he was his host. "I guess I'll show you where we'll be living. It's a small apartment a couple of blocks down." Tenchi put his helmet on, and handed Scott another one. "I hope you don't mind my fiancee. She can be pushy, if you let her be." Scott fastened the strap to his helmet. "... I don't think I'll mind." *** That's all, folks. Keep in mind this is just the prologue, to let you know what this story is going to be about. It'll kick a lot of ass in the future, too, so keep reading. Future chapters are going to have a lot more meat to them, as far as Gitaro is concerned. Oh, and we're not going to put a discalimer down, because we don't want to. We're rebellious sons'a-bitches. C&C, send to Scott Craven (The original chocolate st*rfish) (main idea/writer) TwentyFltRock@aol.com Gitaro the Metalhead (Pantara Man) (writer/editor) Gitaro@msn.com