Chapter 1: Expect the Unexpected
Sometimes there's a clear cut path to choose in life. Good or evil, light or darkness, hero or villian. Those who have these options are the lucky ones, the ones who are respected by all, loved by most and hated by few. Heroes that simply do the right thing, no matter what the consequences are, no matter if something bad may happen because of it. Heroes that would spare their worst enemy's life, instead of destroying them.
They are fools.
Then there are the confused heroes, the ones who do anything to achieve their goal. What's that old saying? The ends justify the means? They lived by that and would probably die by it too.
They don't have it right either.
I am not one of those heroes. I'm not even sure if I'm a hero, or just some nameless mercenary. It doesn't even matter. I do my job, get paid, and go on to the next one. Stay busy. Its the only way I can keep my mind off the past, off of memories that could taint my heart if I let them. So instead of lying around thinking, I throw myself into each assignment I'm given. I do it with such care, such passion, that I am hailed as Seven. Sevens are the elites in the group of mercenaries that I work with. We don't have a name for our organization, just as we don't tell each other our names. We create new code names each time we take a mission.
Why?
No one wants to get too close. The life of a mercenary doesn't have an insurance policy or health care benefits. We die as easily as flies, sometimes beginning a mission and perishing before we actually start it. No one really cares for mercenaries. We are seen as the hyenas, viciously attacing and stealing without care for anything.
We are diseased, avoided by everyone who lives in this city of perpetual darkness.
We are hated, by the family of those who have been assasinated.
We are spit upon, by the victims of our theft.
We are feared, by witnesses to our destruction of what they hold dear.
And yet.
They come to us, pay us to perform some task they they are too afraid, or too ashamed, or too proud to do themselves.
Ironic?
Damn right it is.
They think they are better than us, and yet we are the ones controlling them. They pay us to be gods, to take life, to create chaos, to protect them.
And through the carnage, we laugh.
They think they have us in the palm of their hand, right beside their money, but they're oblivous. They don't see that we are the ones with the keys. The keys to their life, their fate.
We are angels.
We protect and serve them. Care for them when commanded, save them when asked, love them when paid. We make them laugh, shout, and cry with joy.
We are demons.
We kill them, assasinate them, we completely eradicate them. We bathe in their blood, we mutilate them, we are their worst nightmare come true. We make them scream, bleed, and cry with fear.
We are nonexistent.
We are put away in our box when they don't need us, ignored when nothing needs to be done. We are invisible, not seen until someone's husband has cheated, or someone's kid needs saving, or someone's enemy beat them up.
...we don't care.
We don't do this for the respect, because if we did, we'd all have jobs selling cars or something. We don't do it for the love, because if we did, we'd have probably gone mad and committed mass suicide for lack of emotional attention. We don't do it for the intense hatred, for if we did, we'd be the happiest bunch of mercenaries on earth.
We do it to escape. Some people have drugs, but when you're on drugs, you're not in control. Some people have sex, but one can become easily addicted and have a one track mind. Some daydream, but daydreaming is just a personal wish, something that most likely won't occur in their life. And some people go crazy, so disappointed about their pathetic life that they spend their time inside the chambers of their mind, not wanting to leave.
We're different.
What we do is far more dangerous, far more addicting, far more idiotic than all of those combined. But we have payoff, literally. There is always something waiting at the end, some treasure, some money. It doesn't matter though, most dont do it for the pay. They do it to get away from boring wives, boring kids, boring friends, boring lives. They do it to feel a sense of purpose, a sense that they're making a change, no matter if that change is good or bad.
"Hey, that girl's checkin' me out."
Now back to our regularly scheduled program.
My friend...no...associate, was looking at a young brunette sitting about five stools away from us. Every now and then, she'd look up from her drink and glance in our direction. She'd flash a little smile and look down, waiting for the object of her affection to come and sweep her off her feet.
"Sorry, but I believe she's looking at me," I replied, brushing a lock of ebony hair from my eyes. She looked up again and stared directly into my eyes, mine the tint of fine wine, her's the color of a stormy sky.
"Damn," my associate cursed, knowing he was defeated. I got up, patting him on the back as I did, and walked over to the girl. I stood there until she looked up and smiled.
I returned the latter.
"Mind if I sit down?" I asked politely. She nodded shyly. I've heard that nice guys finish last, but I have yet to experience it.
"Would you like a drink?" I asked, in that same soft voice. As soft as a cloud.
"No thank you," she replied, her voice melodius. I could almost sway to it. "My name's Airya, what's yours?"
Airya. Beautiful. Fits like a glove.
The bartender awaited my order, and I asked for a water. He smirked and filled up a glass from the tap. I guess to be a real man, I had to order the strongest drink in the bar.
I looked to the girl, to Airya, and saw that she was looking at me expectantly.
Oh yes, of course. My name. I guess there was no harm in telling her. A fake name that is.
"My name's Janus," I lied. "Pleased to meet you." I reached out my hand.
She smiled and shook it, replying, "You should work on that."
"Work on what?" I asked, smiling back.
"Lying."
I stopped shaking her hand and my smile froze.
Damn. Smart as well as beautiful.
I gave a short laugh, looking into her eyes.
"How would you know if I were lying or not?" I questioned, curious. It was not everyday that someone pointed out my attempts at deceit. They usually had valid reason though.
The girl turned her head and looked at the bartender. "Two Twilight Hours, please."
I raised an eyebrow, not at the fact that she had ordered the strongest drinks in the bar. She didn't answer me right away, using my same tactic against me.
I could appreciate the irony.
We were given our drinks and I downed mine quickly, wanting to get back to the conversation. I expected her to sip on it, ladylike and all, but of course she throws it back like its nothing. There was more to her than looks, that much was sure.
"You don't remember," she said as she set the glass on the table. "Do you?"
"I remember a lot of things," I replied emotionlessly. "Anything in particular?"
The girl looked hurt.
We are demons.
As I said before, my past is something I don't like to think about.
"You don't remember me...?" she asked, her voice berely above a whisper.
Do I remember a brunette with gray eyes?
Do I?
Do I care?
Should I?
"I'm afraid I don't," I replied. "I've forgotten a lot of things...some of them purposely."
"How can you not remember?" she asked. "You've done so many great things."
Haha. Me? Do great things? I don't remember doing things for others.
We are angels.
"Would you like to refresh my memory then?" I asked, a little irritated, "or do you want to beat around the bush some more."
"I know your name," she said softly. "Even though you don't use it anymore, I've still treasured it."
"Don't say it," I warned, glancing around.
Who knew how many people in this would love to know my real name? Once someone knows your identity, you're all theirs.
"Why not?" she asked, a little loudly. "You're a hero-"
"Shutup," I whispered frantically.
Too late.
"Tell us about this hero, kind woman."
A man stood up, as bald as he was ugly. But he did have one thing going for him. An insanely muscular body and what I thought was a kick-ass scar under his eye.
The girl stood, eager that she had a little crowd going.
"This," she paused dramatically, gesturing toward me.
I wanted to throw up.
"This is Develyn Bishop," she continued. "The greatest hero of Twilight Town!!"
So she did know my name...damn. I glanced at my associate to find him shaking his head in astonishment.
Great.
Grunts and whispers of disagreement followed at her last statement.
I smiled.
"That's funny! I heard he was an assassin and a thief!!"
Baldie had the floor.
"The blood of hundreds are on his hands!!"
Hundreds? Who's counting?
"We'd better get out of here," my associate whispered, sliding up behind me. "Before things get uglier than him." He gestured toward Baldie.
Nice one.
"Alright, let's go," I whispered back, standing up. I was kind of bored anyway. The girl was giving some bullcrap speech about how I had saved two kids from a burning building.
Ridiculous.
"Where do you think you're going?" A man with a mop of blonde messy hair stood in my path.
I wasn't angry, just exasperated.
"I'm leaving," I replied. "Do you want to move, or die?"
We are demons.
At least I am. My parents saw the demon inside. They named me Develyn. They saw me for what I was.
A devil.
Parents can be such a drag. Or so I'm told.
I was wearing a long black overcoat that day. Not for style, although it did highlight the red in my eyes. It was big enough to hide a sword in, and I decided it was time to unveil my friend.
That sound, that excruciating sound of metal aginst metal. Like a symphony to me, a nightmare to enemies.
I grinned as I unsheathed the sword slowly, for full effect. The blonde guy's eyes widened, and he took a step back.
Yes. Please. Rethink life.
I heard another sword unsheathing, the sound coming from behind me. I glanced backwards to see that my associate also had his sword out. He smirked and shrugged. I returned both.
I turned back and saw that a lot of the men also had weapons on them. Of course they did. The city wasn't a safe place. It would be interesting.
"Are you going to let us leave?" I asked quietly.
The bald man looked around, knowing that if he backed down now, he would be deemed a coward.
Pride is man's downfall.
So am I. At least for these guys.
"We're gonna get rid of you murderers once and for all!!"
Murderers? That's valid. But they're not calling us saviors, bodyguards. We've worked a lot of different jobs, but we're condemned for the bad ones. I thought they would balance out.
Oh well.
"Then come on," I gestured boredly. "Or do you need a couple more steroids to get you started?"
He raged, then charged.
The girl was behind the counter, hiding after causing all of this.
Ten on two. Easy.
The bald guy swung an axe, and I blocked it with my sword, one-handed. Doing that looks way cooler than blocking with two hands.
I swung a fist, connecting with his cheek. I heard a sharp crack, as if someone had snapped the leg of a chair in half. He flew back onto a wooden table. Of course it collapsed under his weight. A metal table would collapse under his weight.
I glanced back to see my associate fighting off two people at a time, his long white hair flying around wildly. Looks like he didn't need my help.
Another man swung a sword at me and I dodged quickly to my left. Before he knew what happened, I drove the hilt of my sword into the back of his head and he crumpled to the floor.
I didn't even get a chance to celebrate my victory, because I was attacked simultaneously by three men. So was my associate, so there would be no help there.
I was debating whether I should kill them all, or just knock them out. Killing them would be way easier. I would just wait for an opening and give them the old sword-in-the-gut. To knock them out, I would have to get closer than I wanted to.
But.
I had an idea.
I ran back toward the bar, the men hot on my heels, and jumped behind the bar. Grabbing the girl, I slid my sword across her neck, the dull side of course.
"Stand back," I commanded. "You guys wouldn't want this pretty lady to have a second mouth, would you?"
Checkmate.
The guys backed away, slowly. So did the men who were fighting with my associate.
"Drop your weapons please."
They complied, of course. They were good, hard-working men, and they wouldn't cause the death of a girl, even accidently.
I walked from behind the bar, the girl struggling in my grip. She couldn't break it though, she wasn't strong enough. We walked all the way to the door, my associate right behind me with his sword. We were going to escape.
Breathing wasn't this easy.
"Well gentlemen," I smiled. "I have to say that you are the weakest people I have ever fought." It wasn't really necessary, but I just had to.
Anger in their eyes. Laughter in mine. Like fire and ice.
"Good day," I said, throwing the girl into the group. My associate and I ran out, already knowing what to do.
It was raining, big droplets that splattered everywhere. I hate the rain. For some reason, it plays hell with my hair.
"See you there!" my associate called, running down an alley.
I took a different one, knowing that we would have better luck splitting up. We'd meet at the hideout later.
As I ran down the darkened alley, I thought back to the girl who started all of this. I've never seen her before in my life, nor have I done all of these good deeds. So who was she?
I was so deep in thought, that I almost didn't see the pairs of yellow eyes that had emerged from the shadows of the alley.
Heartless.
I stopped. Sliding the sword from its sheathe once again. And that's when I heard it.
You hold one of the keys...
Strange voices in my head? So on top of everything else, I'm crazy?
You will help open the door...
"What door?" I asked aloud. "Who are you?"
The door to the Light. You will help open it with the weapon of your heart.
The Heartless were still standing there at attention, as if waiting for the voice to stop its speech.
"What's the door to the Light? And the weapon of my heart?"
The door to the light. Kingdom Hearts. The place of eternal light, and darkness.
"And the weapon of my heart?" I asked as the rain hammered down even harder.
See for yourself. Put your hands out, in front of your chest.
Sure, I'll play along. I have nothing better to do besides wait for another mission to fall into my lap.
I held my hands out in front.
Now close your eyes, and concentrate. Concentrate on your heart, and the strength within it.
I did. I thought about how nothing has been able to break me, no matter what I've seen. No matter what has happened to me, I'm still here. I'm still standing, ready to face whatever comes my way. I thought of all the abuse I had suffered throughout my life, physical and mental. And I thought about how it had only strenghened me.
And it happened.
I felt something in my heart. Something that was both warm and cold. Something that hurt, and yet felt good at the same time.
I opened my eyes and saw it. A keyblade exiting my body slowly, glowing softly. It was black, blacker than the shadows that surrounded me. The blade was straight for about four feet before curving wickedly at the end. It finally exited and I grabbed the hilt, taking a few test swings. It was light and easy to use.
Use it well, Keyblade Master. There will be times when the darkness will try to take your heart. Where you will feel as if the weight of the world is crushing you down, but don't give in. You have one of the strongest hearts of all. You will bring peace. You will bring hope. You will bring light. Farewell.
"Wait! What am I supposd to do now?!" I yelled, looking into the sky. At that moment, I saw a star disappear. If I had blinked, I would have missed it. A planet had just been snuffed out.
The voice had left, leaving behind questions and the keyblade. I held the latter up, letting the rain splash off of it. A Keyblade Master.
They say expect the unexpected, but not even they could have predicted this. Me, murder, savior, thief, lover, arsonist, bodyguard, terrorist. The list goes on. I stood there for a moment, lost in it all. Then I shook my head.
Whatever. I'm thinking too much. I'll figure it out in the morning.
I started to continue my walk when the Heartless attacked. I jumped back lightly and took my fighting stance, the keyblade in hand. The first time. Let's see how it handles. The Heartless rushed me, and I let them.
Sometimes there's a clear cut path to choose in life. Good or evil, light or darkness, hero or villian. Those who have these options are the lucky ones, the ones who are respected by all, loved by most and hated by few. Heroes that simply do the right thing, no matter what the consequences are, no matter if something bad may happen because of it. Heroes that would spare their worst enemy's life, instead of destroying them.
They are fools.
Then there are the confused heroes, the ones who do anything to achieve their goal. What's that old saying? The ends justify the means? They lived by that and would probably die by it too.
They don't have it right either.
I am not one of those heroes. I'm not even sure if I'm a hero, or just some nameless mercenary. It doesn't even matter. I do my job, get paid, and go on to the next one. Stay busy. Its the only way I can keep my mind off the past, off of memories that could taint my heart if I let them. So instead of lying around thinking, I throw myself into each assignment I'm given. I do it with such care, such passion, that I am hailed as Seven. Sevens are the elites in the group of mercenaries that I work with. We don't have a name for our organization, just as we don't tell each other our names. We create new code names each time we take a mission.
Why?
No one wants to get too close. The life of a mercenary doesn't have an insurance policy or health care benefits. We die as easily as flies, sometimes beginning a mission and perishing before we actually start it. No one really cares for mercenaries. We are seen as the hyenas, viciously attacing and stealing without care for anything.
We are diseased, avoided by everyone who lives in this city of perpetual darkness.
We are hated, by the family of those who have been assasinated.
We are spit upon, by the victims of our theft.
We are feared, by witnesses to our destruction of what they hold dear.
And yet.
They come to us, pay us to perform some task they they are too afraid, or too ashamed, or too proud to do themselves.
Ironic?
Damn right it is.
They think they are better than us, and yet we are the ones controlling them. They pay us to be gods, to take life, to create chaos, to protect them.
And through the carnage, we laugh.
They think they have us in the palm of their hand, right beside their money, but they're oblivous. They don't see that we are the ones with the keys. The keys to their life, their fate.
We are angels.
We protect and serve them. Care for them when commanded, save them when asked, love them when paid. We make them laugh, shout, and cry with joy.
We are demons.
We kill them, assasinate them, we completely eradicate them. We bathe in their blood, we mutilate them, we are their worst nightmare come true. We make them scream, bleed, and cry with fear.
We are nonexistent.
We are put away in our box when they don't need us, ignored when nothing needs to be done. We are invisible, not seen until someone's husband has cheated, or someone's kid needs saving, or someone's enemy beat them up.
...we don't care.
We don't do this for the respect, because if we did, we'd all have jobs selling cars or something. We don't do it for the love, because if we did, we'd have probably gone mad and committed mass suicide for lack of emotional attention. We don't do it for the intense hatred, for if we did, we'd be the happiest bunch of mercenaries on earth.
We do it to escape. Some people have drugs, but when you're on drugs, you're not in control. Some people have sex, but one can become easily addicted and have a one track mind. Some daydream, but daydreaming is just a personal wish, something that most likely won't occur in their life. And some people go crazy, so disappointed about their pathetic life that they spend their time inside the chambers of their mind, not wanting to leave.
We're different.
What we do is far more dangerous, far more addicting, far more idiotic than all of those combined. But we have payoff, literally. There is always something waiting at the end, some treasure, some money. It doesn't matter though, most dont do it for the pay. They do it to get away from boring wives, boring kids, boring friends, boring lives. They do it to feel a sense of purpose, a sense that they're making a change, no matter if that change is good or bad.
"Hey, that girl's checkin' me out."
Now back to our regularly scheduled program.
My friend...no...associate, was looking at a young brunette sitting about five stools away from us. Every now and then, she'd look up from her drink and glance in our direction. She'd flash a little smile and look down, waiting for the object of her affection to come and sweep her off her feet.
"Sorry, but I believe she's looking at me," I replied, brushing a lock of ebony hair from my eyes. She looked up again and stared directly into my eyes, mine the tint of fine wine, her's the color of a stormy sky.
"Damn," my associate cursed, knowing he was defeated. I got up, patting him on the back as I did, and walked over to the girl. I stood there until she looked up and smiled.
I returned the latter.
"Mind if I sit down?" I asked politely. She nodded shyly. I've heard that nice guys finish last, but I have yet to experience it.
"Would you like a drink?" I asked, in that same soft voice. As soft as a cloud.
"No thank you," she replied, her voice melodius. I could almost sway to it. "My name's Airya, what's yours?"
Airya. Beautiful. Fits like a glove.
The bartender awaited my order, and I asked for a water. He smirked and filled up a glass from the tap. I guess to be a real man, I had to order the strongest drink in the bar.
I looked to the girl, to Airya, and saw that she was looking at me expectantly.
Oh yes, of course. My name. I guess there was no harm in telling her. A fake name that is.
"My name's Janus," I lied. "Pleased to meet you." I reached out my hand.
She smiled and shook it, replying, "You should work on that."
"Work on what?" I asked, smiling back.
"Lying."
I stopped shaking her hand and my smile froze.
Damn. Smart as well as beautiful.
I gave a short laugh, looking into her eyes.
"How would you know if I were lying or not?" I questioned, curious. It was not everyday that someone pointed out my attempts at deceit. They usually had valid reason though.
The girl turned her head and looked at the bartender. "Two Twilight Hours, please."
I raised an eyebrow, not at the fact that she had ordered the strongest drinks in the bar. She didn't answer me right away, using my same tactic against me.
I could appreciate the irony.
We were given our drinks and I downed mine quickly, wanting to get back to the conversation. I expected her to sip on it, ladylike and all, but of course she throws it back like its nothing. There was more to her than looks, that much was sure.
"You don't remember," she said as she set the glass on the table. "Do you?"
"I remember a lot of things," I replied emotionlessly. "Anything in particular?"
The girl looked hurt.
We are demons.
As I said before, my past is something I don't like to think about.
"You don't remember me...?" she asked, her voice berely above a whisper.
Do I remember a brunette with gray eyes?
Do I?
Do I care?
Should I?
"I'm afraid I don't," I replied. "I've forgotten a lot of things...some of them purposely."
"How can you not remember?" she asked. "You've done so many great things."
Haha. Me? Do great things? I don't remember doing things for others.
We are angels.
"Would you like to refresh my memory then?" I asked, a little irritated, "or do you want to beat around the bush some more."
"I know your name," she said softly. "Even though you don't use it anymore, I've still treasured it."
"Don't say it," I warned, glancing around.
Who knew how many people in this would love to know my real name? Once someone knows your identity, you're all theirs.
"Why not?" she asked, a little loudly. "You're a hero-"
"Shutup," I whispered frantically.
Too late.
"Tell us about this hero, kind woman."
A man stood up, as bald as he was ugly. But he did have one thing going for him. An insanely muscular body and what I thought was a kick-ass scar under his eye.
The girl stood, eager that she had a little crowd going.
"This," she paused dramatically, gesturing toward me.
I wanted to throw up.
"This is Develyn Bishop," she continued. "The greatest hero of Twilight Town!!"
So she did know my name...damn. I glanced at my associate to find him shaking his head in astonishment.
Great.
Grunts and whispers of disagreement followed at her last statement.
I smiled.
"That's funny! I heard he was an assassin and a thief!!"
Baldie had the floor.
"The blood of hundreds are on his hands!!"
Hundreds? Who's counting?
"We'd better get out of here," my associate whispered, sliding up behind me. "Before things get uglier than him." He gestured toward Baldie.
Nice one.
"Alright, let's go," I whispered back, standing up. I was kind of bored anyway. The girl was giving some bullcrap speech about how I had saved two kids from a burning building.
Ridiculous.
"Where do you think you're going?" A man with a mop of blonde messy hair stood in my path.
I wasn't angry, just exasperated.
"I'm leaving," I replied. "Do you want to move, or die?"
We are demons.
At least I am. My parents saw the demon inside. They named me Develyn. They saw me for what I was.
A devil.
Parents can be such a drag. Or so I'm told.
I was wearing a long black overcoat that day. Not for style, although it did highlight the red in my eyes. It was big enough to hide a sword in, and I decided it was time to unveil my friend.
That sound, that excruciating sound of metal aginst metal. Like a symphony to me, a nightmare to enemies.
I grinned as I unsheathed the sword slowly, for full effect. The blonde guy's eyes widened, and he took a step back.
Yes. Please. Rethink life.
I heard another sword unsheathing, the sound coming from behind me. I glanced backwards to see that my associate also had his sword out. He smirked and shrugged. I returned both.
I turned back and saw that a lot of the men also had weapons on them. Of course they did. The city wasn't a safe place. It would be interesting.
"Are you going to let us leave?" I asked quietly.
The bald man looked around, knowing that if he backed down now, he would be deemed a coward.
Pride is man's downfall.
So am I. At least for these guys.
"We're gonna get rid of you murderers once and for all!!"
Murderers? That's valid. But they're not calling us saviors, bodyguards. We've worked a lot of different jobs, but we're condemned for the bad ones. I thought they would balance out.
Oh well.
"Then come on," I gestured boredly. "Or do you need a couple more steroids to get you started?"
He raged, then charged.
The girl was behind the counter, hiding after causing all of this.
Ten on two. Easy.
The bald guy swung an axe, and I blocked it with my sword, one-handed. Doing that looks way cooler than blocking with two hands.
I swung a fist, connecting with his cheek. I heard a sharp crack, as if someone had snapped the leg of a chair in half. He flew back onto a wooden table. Of course it collapsed under his weight. A metal table would collapse under his weight.
I glanced back to see my associate fighting off two people at a time, his long white hair flying around wildly. Looks like he didn't need my help.
Another man swung a sword at me and I dodged quickly to my left. Before he knew what happened, I drove the hilt of my sword into the back of his head and he crumpled to the floor.
I didn't even get a chance to celebrate my victory, because I was attacked simultaneously by three men. So was my associate, so there would be no help there.
I was debating whether I should kill them all, or just knock them out. Killing them would be way easier. I would just wait for an opening and give them the old sword-in-the-gut. To knock them out, I would have to get closer than I wanted to.
But.
I had an idea.
I ran back toward the bar, the men hot on my heels, and jumped behind the bar. Grabbing the girl, I slid my sword across her neck, the dull side of course.
"Stand back," I commanded. "You guys wouldn't want this pretty lady to have a second mouth, would you?"
Checkmate.
The guys backed away, slowly. So did the men who were fighting with my associate.
"Drop your weapons please."
They complied, of course. They were good, hard-working men, and they wouldn't cause the death of a girl, even accidently.
I walked from behind the bar, the girl struggling in my grip. She couldn't break it though, she wasn't strong enough. We walked all the way to the door, my associate right behind me with his sword. We were going to escape.
Breathing wasn't this easy.
"Well gentlemen," I smiled. "I have to say that you are the weakest people I have ever fought." It wasn't really necessary, but I just had to.
Anger in their eyes. Laughter in mine. Like fire and ice.
"Good day," I said, throwing the girl into the group. My associate and I ran out, already knowing what to do.
It was raining, big droplets that splattered everywhere. I hate the rain. For some reason, it plays hell with my hair.
"See you there!" my associate called, running down an alley.
I took a different one, knowing that we would have better luck splitting up. We'd meet at the hideout later.
As I ran down the darkened alley, I thought back to the girl who started all of this. I've never seen her before in my life, nor have I done all of these good deeds. So who was she?
I was so deep in thought, that I almost didn't see the pairs of yellow eyes that had emerged from the shadows of the alley.
Heartless.
I stopped. Sliding the sword from its sheathe once again. And that's when I heard it.
You hold one of the keys...
Strange voices in my head? So on top of everything else, I'm crazy?
You will help open the door...
"What door?" I asked aloud. "Who are you?"
The door to the Light. You will help open it with the weapon of your heart.
The Heartless were still standing there at attention, as if waiting for the voice to stop its speech.
"What's the door to the Light? And the weapon of my heart?"
The door to the light. Kingdom Hearts. The place of eternal light, and darkness.
"And the weapon of my heart?" I asked as the rain hammered down even harder.
See for yourself. Put your hands out, in front of your chest.
Sure, I'll play along. I have nothing better to do besides wait for another mission to fall into my lap.
I held my hands out in front.
Now close your eyes, and concentrate. Concentrate on your heart, and the strength within it.
I did. I thought about how nothing has been able to break me, no matter what I've seen. No matter what has happened to me, I'm still here. I'm still standing, ready to face whatever comes my way. I thought of all the abuse I had suffered throughout my life, physical and mental. And I thought about how it had only strenghened me.
And it happened.
I felt something in my heart. Something that was both warm and cold. Something that hurt, and yet felt good at the same time.
I opened my eyes and saw it. A keyblade exiting my body slowly, glowing softly. It was black, blacker than the shadows that surrounded me. The blade was straight for about four feet before curving wickedly at the end. It finally exited and I grabbed the hilt, taking a few test swings. It was light and easy to use.
Use it well, Keyblade Master. There will be times when the darkness will try to take your heart. Where you will feel as if the weight of the world is crushing you down, but don't give in. You have one of the strongest hearts of all. You will bring peace. You will bring hope. You will bring light. Farewell.
"Wait! What am I supposd to do now?!" I yelled, looking into the sky. At that moment, I saw a star disappear. If I had blinked, I would have missed it. A planet had just been snuffed out.
The voice had left, leaving behind questions and the keyblade. I held the latter up, letting the rain splash off of it. A Keyblade Master.
They say expect the unexpected, but not even they could have predicted this. Me, murder, savior, thief, lover, arsonist, bodyguard, terrorist. The list goes on. I stood there for a moment, lost in it all. Then I shook my head.
Whatever. I'm thinking too much. I'll figure it out in the morning.
I started to continue my walk when the Heartless attacked. I jumped back lightly and took my fighting stance, the keyblade in hand. The first time. Let's see how it handles. The Heartless rushed me, and I let them.