GS--Prologue

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GS--Prologue

           "Damn you, bastard!  Why in the world did you kill Louis?!  I never knew you hated your cousin so much!" Vincent ranted at his half-brother.
           Eugene started, "I wasn't trying to kill him, I just-"
           "Yeah, like it wasn't your fault, huh?  So it was Louis's fault that he got shot?"
           Eugene tried again, "Like I said-"
           "No one needs any of your excuses!" Vincent yelled.
           Angrily, for he reckoned he shouldn't be guilty, Eugene yelled back, "I WAS GOING TO SAY WHY HE GOT SHOT, BUT OF COURSE YOU WOULDN'T LISTEN TO ME!"  Finally catching Vincent's attention, he countinued, a bit more calmly, but with a voice still shaking with anger, "You know how we like having our little mock gunfights, right?  Well, he had his gun, and I had my regular pistol.  We always fire blanks at each other, because usually no one uses the guns.  So I didn't know that mine's was loaded.  Perhaps Dad took it out for target practice yesterday afternoon.  Anyhow, I shot and...and..."  He faltered.
           Vincent growled, "You could have felt that it was heavier than usual."
          "I wasn't expecting it!"
          Vincent muttered, drawing a blade, "I'm still hella pissed.  By the looks of it, you're thinking that you can run away, huh?"  He nodded at Eugene's stance, which clearly stated that he was about to make a dash for the nearby woods.
Eugene stared warily at the dagger, then to his own holster, in which was his pistol, fully loaded.  Vincent took notice of this, and said darkly, "You want to shoot your own half-brother?"  
          Eugene carefully measured the distance between him and the woods.  Suddenly he ran forward.  Although he was tall, strong, and fast, Vincent, who was the same age as him, was even faster, though not as strong.  He saw Eugene coming, and slashed straight down.
          An anguished howl rent the air.  The knife had cut Eugene straight to the bone of the right side of his face, not sparing his eye. He doubled over, panting.
"You really think go can win against a person with a dagger?!" yelled Vincent.
Without speaking, Eugene struggled to his feet, and charged again.  This time, he completely took Vince by surprise, and Eugene took advantage of this.  He spun around, swung a fist towards the back of Vince's head, and quickly knocked him out.  His opponent out, he sped towards the woods.
          Over ten minutes later, Eugene stopped to catch his breath.  He slumped againt a mossy tree trunk, and pondered what to do next.  What would he achieve from running away?  He sighed.  Suddenly, he thought of the local police.  If he was to evade them, he would need another name to go by.  He's also need a new look.  That won't be a problem, he thought, remembering the small bottle of bleach he'd brought along.  Somewhere in his high school career, he'd gotten into the habit of bleaching his hair.  
          He struggled to come up with a name.  He thought of his trait, personality, everything.  Nothing seemed to fit.  Eugene shrugged off the heavy jacket he'd taken for his dad's closet.  It was incredibly heavy, since it had the old-fashioned chain-mail bulletproofing.  But he was strong enough to wear ot for a whole day, two whole days.  Out of nowhere, it struck him.  Fully clothed in metal...Full Metal...FM...  He laughed out loud.  Perfect.  His new initials would be FM.  He thought about his last name.  What described him in one word?  He ran through a list of his traits: vengeful, smart, tall, somewhat intimidating, strong, defiant, angry...angry.  How to describe anger...Images flashed through his mind.  A flash of lightening.  Thunder.  Natural disasters.  Storms...
          Eugene jerked up.  Full Metal Storm...He laughed inwardly.  What a childish name!  F.M. Storm.  But it was his only name.  He would have to take it.