Disclaimer: I don't own Cyborg 009. I'm sad now. *sigh*

Bullet in the Dark


Author's Note:

I can't believe I'm doing this. I'm an extremely strict Inu-Yasha fan only when it comes to fanfictions, but I just couldn't help myself. In case any of you are wondering, I'm also known as Totally Wicked. Wait… I just noticed I'm pretty strict humor, too! Well, 'tis the time for changes. I have never done this kind of writing before, so if it sucks, bite me. Enjoy the story!


He was an assassin. He is an assassin.

A killer of the innocent, or the not so innocent, but it didn't matter to him.

They were all going to die in the end.


Lonely, cold, shaking, it didn't matter.

Rich, beautiful, powerful, it didn't matter.


What a powerful word.

Was it release, a curse, a blessing?

What had brought them to this?

Were they all born so they could die in the end?

To find happiness and then have it all ripped away from them?

He already knew he was corrupt. If there was a thing as heaven, he wouldn't be able to get in even if he tried. He had blood on his hands, blood of others.

Money. Power. Destruction.

That was what made him do this.

Cowards. Hiding in the shadows, like the worms they are.

He asks himself 'Why? Why do I do this?'

But he needn't ask. He already knows.

He's doing this for the rush it gives him, as if he is on a roller coaster, but without the seatbelt.

Waiting for the moment he gives up and dies.

Some say he's sick.

But it is an addiction, like any addiction.

The swoosh of the blood, the eyes that turn blank… all like play things to him.

Besides, he gets paid to do it, not that he minded.

If he broke free, they would kill him, or expose him.

No… Who was he kidding? They would kill him, watch his blood fall to the ground.

And laugh. They would laugh. At his foolishness, and why didn't he just keep on doing what he liked?

But he didn't care.

In his mind, he was already dead, already buried.

Had he ever lived?

He had heard that laughter was life.

When was the last time he laughed? The last time he had truly laughed, truly lost himself in the pleasure of life?

Not since three years ago, since he became a killer of the night.

What made him think all this?

The young woman standing below him, her eyes pure and untainted.


He could hear her laughing.

Her blonde hair twisted around her as she twirled in the sun, blue eyes shining.

He knew she was happy, content. She loved life, and it was obvious.

Too bad she had to die.


Okay, I must say that that was way darker than I intended it to be. I love it. Probably my favorite prologue I've ever written. I know it's short, too, but please bear with me. I'll update faster, and besides, this was a prologue! Please, please, please tell me if you liked it or not!