A cheery child skipped merrily through the forest, dragging a laden picnic basket behind her, without a care in the world.
Her blond hair occasionally peeked out from underneath her red hood and cape, and her cheery smile was often seen lighting up her face, and her frilly pink and white dress proclaimed her to be totally innocent to all who caught sight of her.
Which was good, because it drew attention away from her soulless and empty blue eyes.
Once upon a time, as the story goes, Bonnie Bulletta Hood might have been innocent - once upon a time. That had been a few years of Demon Hunting ago.
Nowadays, B.B. ('call me Bonnie and I'll shoot you') Hood only cared about two things: money and killing demons. Which wasn't to say she wasn't cheerful, because she certainly was - the current Slayer enjoyed her work far too much - but worthless things like relationships, mercy, and kindness meant nothing to her.
When Setsuna had activated the lesser Senshi of Earth in response to the usurpation of the Were-Clan's throne by a Servant of Beryl who had not been at the attack on the moon, she had probably not intended this end result.
Little Red Riding Hood skipped through the forest with a dozen guns under her red cape, a picnic basket full of high explosives, and murder on her mind. For one thing, the rest of her Hoods were late, and for another the Vampire she'd just dealt with had been singularly disappointing.
When the rag-tag group of mortal vampire hunters had approached her with the aid of a mystic compass and declared her the current 'chosen' Slayer, B.B. had shortly decided that she wanted to live to see thirty, thank you very much, and so she had immediately set out 'persuading' the gentlemen that things would henceforth be done /Her way/.
The Superhuman strength and stamina that came with her 'choosing', coupled with a skill with firearms that her papa - a fine, upstanding Don in the Mafia - had been proud to impart into his little girl allowed her to do that just fine, and so the 'Companions' of the Slayer became something other than what they were, and so did the Slayer.
B.B. Was almost satisfied with the operation she'd put together now - she'd 'persuaded' several high religious organizations to pay her and her men handsomely for each kill, and on the strength of that, her gang and she had begun seriously trimming the population of supernaturals Earth-side. A few personal trips Makai-wards had taught her not to bite off more than she could chew - but, by large, there was little that was such, between her supernatural abilities (quiet though they were) and her heavy weaponry, blessed by the church.
Now if she could just find good help...
B.B. kicked open the door to her cheerful little cottage and growled at the sight that greeted her; several of the guys were laid out on beds, variously banged up. One wasn't there - another casualty. Replacing Jim - or was it James that was missing? - would cost good time and money, and that irritated her. A lot. She had a report of several dozen Demon and Vampire sightings from the Vatican that she was itching to chase down and she didn't want to stop just to pick up another idiot goon, however much experience told her that backup was a good idea.
"What do I have to do to get you lugs to follow the game plan, huh? Do I have to tattoo it into your skulls with Betsy? Don't go hand to hand with vampires! It's a simple equation! I am the only one that does that!" 'Betsy' - B.B.'s favorite Uzi - was her favorite tool of threat. It got the cretins - mostly Mafia men who were too violent for even their Don's tastes - to listen, most of the time, because B.B. was perfectly willing (eager, even) to use it.
This time, however, it didn't have it's usual effect. Instead the tallest one - Clyde (she thought his name was. She went through henchmen so fast anymore that she wasn't quite sure), groaned and snapped back, "Leave off, Bullet. The guy who jumped us wasn't on the list - there were two more of them their, real bastards. Like the one you brought back from Makai last time - too tough for us. We're lucky they decided to leave!"
B.B Stopped at the rant, pinning Clyde to the wall with a glare. "Two extra, Makai-strength vampires? Plus the extra from the other day.... Mr. Fangs from tonight was all worn out, and His Holiness says they're coming out of the walls in Juuban-cho.. Something's got the other side all riled up. Okay, you guys are off duty for now - I'm gonna do a little poking around. Rest up - and Clyde, get someone to replace Jim -"
"James," Clyde corrected absently.
"-whatever." B.B. concluded. "Just get a new guy and train with him so he fits. I'll call you when it's shooting time, as usual."
"Whatever you say, Bullet." Clyde watched the little moppet of death bounce back into her rooms to pack for 'Personal' action and carefully did not call her an over-controlling bitch.
The last guy to do that had been pitched out a third story window and 'negotiated' with Betsy all the way down.
In Juuban-cho, another meeting of minds was taking place - one with as much actual Violence as had been potential in the last.
Chiba Mamoru was fighting for his pride, his dominance, and his respect against a circling wolf pack - or rather, someone who was /Not/ Chiba Mamoru was fighting for such.
The transformation had come upon him under the moon, as dark energies flowing from his beloved touched off his own heritage - but Mamoru was not just any amnesiac Lupin.
This was the reincarnation of Endymion, Prince of Princes, heir to the throne of all of the Earth, and he had a special connection with the moon, above and beyond the one that often drove Werewolves perilously close to madness. Under its influence, the walls that sealed his memory had fallen away - both those that made him forget his parents and the Makai that had been his childhood home, and those that bound him to this modern world and his modern personality.
Chiba Mamoru faded to memory of what had happened in this life, and Endymion, Prince, Warrior, and soon to be king, lived again.
Endymion snarled savagely as he twisted and heaved beneath an entire pack of Crinos-form werewolves and blasted them off of him with a wave of seething red power. All around, razor-barbed rose vines were exploding from the earth at his command, lashing the wolves that had thought to treat this newcomer as a common-born cub and leaving painful reminders of just who was the strongest wolf in this city, in this world - and it wasn't them.
The Wolves scattered against it, whimpering and growling, already knowing the gigantic black and scarlet Were had beaten them, but not yet ready to submit to a new pack-master. The Prince growled menacingly as they circled and ignored the ones seeking to take his back - none of these wolves had the potential to defeat him or even harm him in the least, and by ignoring them he let them know it. He feared no weapon they possessed.
On their part, the pack of werewolf scouts - descendants of those responsible for the Terrors against the human population all those aeons ago who had sided with Dmitri Maximov - widened their circle at his growl and whined as an instinctive bit of racial memory needled them in the back of their skulls.
The blood had been thin in his parents, diluted through centuries upon millennia from the fall of the last true-born wolf-king, but charged by the power of the Prince of Earth, it had changed, concentrating and distilling until the power of it was as potent as that long-lost royal family's direct line had ever been and more.
The Wolf King had returned.
Meanwhile -
Read the comments on this episode
(Posted Sat, 08 Feb 2003 05:30)
Questions? Problems? Suggestions?
Send a mail to addventure@bast-enterprises.de
or use the contact form.
らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
All other series and their characters are © by their respective creators or owners. No claims of ownership of these characters are implied by the authors of this Addventure, or should be inferred.
The Anime Addventure is a non-profit site.