This is another test fic for another version of Tamer of the Hazard, this time it's about a vampire Takato. I feel this one would work much better than the werewolf version for digimon battles and the Omegavice. I've been wracking my brain for ways to combine the powers of the Omegavice with lycanthropy, but I just can't do it without turning Takato into a Weregarurumon!
I'll warn you all now, this is heavily influenced by Hellsing, in several ways.
I must stress the fact that this is a PROTOTYPE fic, just like the werewolf version, so any mistakes most likely won't be corrected, and it's all up to you whether it continues or not.
The next chapter of the original will be coming soon, after nearly a year on hiatus, so look out for it.
I hope you all like it, I actually had quite a bit of fun writing it.
...Well, I DID have fun writing it, but then I realized how lame it was, and how much it had strayed from my original concept. So consider this thing dead, with a complete rewrite on the drawing board(but not coming anytime soon, so don't hold your breath).
That said, you might want to go read something else right about now. Something good. Which this isn't. You've been warned.
A figure, dressed in a black trenchcoat, crouched on the ledge of the roof of a three story building; a warehouse. The figure stared down at the string of black sedans pulling up around the back, away from prying eyes...All but his unseen crimson orbs, hidden behind reflective, black rimmed, red-tinted sunglasses.
The figure raised a gloved hand up to its ear, brushing aside a few locks of dark brown, almost black shoulder length hair and pressing on the small communicator.
"They're here." a low, masculine voice spoke, identifying the figure as a male. "What are my orders?"
There was a pause, then the another voice, digitally altered to sound British, spoke from the other side.
"Wait until the meeting is over, record everything they say, then silence them. These Yakuza thugs have been a real thorn in the side of our client, so there will be NO survivors, is that clear?"
The man nodded. "Of course."
"Good. This may be the one time I ask you to be...flashy in disposing of them. I want you to send a message to both the Yakuza and the police force. Show those thugs what happens when they get on the bad side of professionals. And show the law enforcement that these gangs are making a comeback, and are operating right under their noses."
"You're oddly passionate today, Boss. Something up?" the man chuckled lightly.
"Ah, so I am. Forgive me, it's late, and I don't feel like dealing with this bullshit. I mean we're professional assassins, for God's sake! We shouldn't be pulling off hits on Yakuza lowlives, we should be assassinating foreign ministers, tyrannical leaders, political extremists, important people, you know?"
The man scoffed, watching the men down below shake hands. "I know. My...talents are being wasted here. Why am I even here? There are two other agents in the area, both with more experience in dealing with these guys, and both have a LOT more patience than I do. I could be at a party, a concert, anything! I could even be scaring the crap out of random people on the streets. That would be more fun than this."
The man on the other end of the comm. link snorted. "Typical teen. No matter what it is, work is never 'fun' for you. Even when you get paid, very well, I might add, to kill people, you still complain about it not being enough fun. You want fun? How about I drop you into the middle of North Korea without any weapons, or, better yet, without any clothes, and leave you to fight off an entire army by yourself. Would THAT be fun?!" the Boss was almost at the point of screaming.
"...That would kick sooo much ass! Though I could do without the naked thing, when do I start?" the assassin asked eagerly.
"...You...You're a freak, that's the only explanation. You're just plain unnatural!"
"Correction, I'm a vampire. And I'm not natural, I'm SUPERnatural!" the man laughed, then saw the Yakuza thugs walk into the warehouse. "Gotta go, Boss, the meeting's started, and you've got to start recording."
"Yes, quite. We'll discuss this later. Remember, WAIT until the meeting is OVER! We think there's a alterior motive behind the client wanting them dead, and we aim to find out as much as we can before the hit is carried out."
The assassin grumbled under his breath. "Don't call it a 'hit', it cheapens what I'm doing here...Makes me wonder why I took this job."
"We both know why. It was either this, or we send wave after wave of agents to kill you, and everyone you know. You may have been happy being a neutral vampire, but people were going to come after you sooner or later, and most wouldn't give you any kind of choice in the matter. Just be glad you still have free will. Others would have turned you into a mindless puppet by now. We've had problems with neutral vampires before, and you are far too powerful for us to simply let you go."
"Yeah, whatever. I get to kill anything I deem a threat to my family and friends, so I'm fine with this arrangement." 'For now.' he thought silently.
He took his fingers off of the communicator and silently crawled down the wall, Spider-man style, and went into the warehouse through an open window. Inside, he continued wall-crawling and settled on the ceiling, his coat and hair somehow defying gravity. He looked down, or up in his case, at the thugs on the ground level.
'How cliche is this? Black suits, black sedans, secret meetings, leaders standing inside of a circle of thugs. Look at these fools, I can smell their egos! They both want to kill each other so badly they're twitching!' he smirked when he saw some of the thugs shifting anxiously, just itching to unholster their weapons and let loose on the rival gang. 'Maybe I can start a little trouble, make these turn on each other. Hell, I could probably start a huge war between different Yakuza Clans!' then he thought about it. 'Nah, that's not my style. Besides, all of Shinjuku would be turned into a massive battlefield. Innocents caught in the crossfire, everyone would be in danger, and that's something I don't want to deal with. Might as well deal with them the old fashion way.'
Down below, the meeting was finally getting started. Two men, in their early thirties, dressed in black Armani suits began talking. They looked like your classic Yakuza badguy. Short, slicked-back hair, dressed in all black, shades, gloves to ensure their were no fingerprints, 9mms hidden under their suits, switchblades hidden in their sleeves, earpieces to keep in contact with the scouts outside, and the "paranoid evildoer" personality. It was like every guy there was just waiting to be busted and have cops swarm the building. Oh, of they only knew, they'd be praying for the cops.
"Glad you could make it, Yokozuna." the taller of the two mean said.
"I almost though you wouldn't show, and that this would be some kind of trap. I'm glad to see I was mistaken. How are you this fine night, Kenshin?" the other greeted.
"I'd be much better if our bosses weren't constantly at each other's throats."
On the ceiling, the assassin rose an eyebrow and whispered into the communicator. "Hold up, 'Bosses'? I thought these guys were the bosses?"
"So did I. It seems we made the right decision in questioning this mission. There is, indeed, more to this than meets the eye."
Down below, Yokozuna nodded and sighed. "Those old fools, their blind following of the age-old traditions will be the downfall of the Clans! The other Clans have embraced the new ways, and are rising quickly through the ranks, while we're slowing falling behind."
Kenshin nodded in agreement. "Exactly. Revenue is at an all-time low for the Khaichou, and I assume the same goes for the Yokenzou?"
Takato's eyebrow twitched. "Hey, Boss, isn't that the name of..."
"The client? Yes. It seems he tried to pull a fast one on us. Some pathetic Yakuza crimelord should not know who we are and what we do. When I give the order, kill them all, then move on to the client."
The assassin smirked, showing off a long fang. "Yes sir." then he went back to focusing on the conversation below.
"Sadly, yes. We've fallen on hard times, indeed. Even our hitmen are recieving fewer and fewer jobs. It's that damned 'Way of the Samurai' that's getting in the way!"
"Same with our whole 'Shinobi Pride' bullshit. It's all collapsing around us. Not only are we being left behind by these newcomer Yakuza, we're losing funds to this pointless 'Secret War' going on between our Clans! So what if ninjas and samurai are supposed to be ancient enemies. So are cats and dogs, and my pets get along just fine!" Kenshin rubbed his temples and grumbled.
"And that's why you've called this meeting tonight? Are we finally going to do something about this?" Yokozuna asked eagerly.
"That we are, my friend. I've got it all worked out. We get both Clan Heads together in one place, but make sure they don't know the other's there. We then show up and kill them both."
"But how are we going to keep the rest of the Clan off of our backs?"
"I've got a couple of spies from the Icotori Clan tied up in the trunks of our cars out back. We'll be dressed up as assassins from the Fuku Clan, so initial blame will be put on them. But we'll dress those Icotori spies up in the same way, kill them, and leave their bodies at the scene. When the Clan finds them, they'll blame the Fuku Clan first. When the Fuku come out to claim their innocence, they'll see that it's actually Icotori Clansmen dressed up as them, and they'll point the finger at them for attempting a frame-up. We'll take control of both of our clans, and bow out of the conflict, saying we don't have the time, nor the rescources to fight them, but we won't forget, and we won't forgive. So, you see, I've got it all planned out!" Kenshin faught the urge to laugh maniacally.
Yokozuna nodded vigorously. "Yes! This is it, we'll finally bring our Clans back to power! When should we do this? And is anyone else in on it?"
Kenshin shook his head. "No one else knows about this, nor will they ever. We'll do it two days from now, on Monday, so make sure you and your men are ready for this. We have to come with our A-game, as I'm sure you understand. All it takes is one dead body from our end and the whole thing will be blown to shit."
Yokozuna nodded, then looked over his shoulder. "Do you even get the feeling...you're being watched?"
Kenshin looked around as well. "Yes...now that you mention it, something doesn't feel right about this." the other goons surrounding them started pulling out guns, looking highly paranoid.
"Sir?" the vampire was getting tired of awaiting orders.
"I've heard enough. Kill them." the comm. link went dead and the assassin grinned and dropped from the ceiling.
Every thug watched in horror and awe as a tall man dressed all in black dropped down from the rafters.
"You know, you guys should really choose better places to plan a mutany. In this place, the walls have ears." he stood to his full height of nearly six and a half feet, towering above every other man present.
Yokozuna shook off his fear first and snarled, "And just who are you?"
The man turn his attention towards the short man. "Me? Well, I'm not so much a 'who' as I am a 'what'."
Kenshin fingered the trigger of his .45 ACP semi-auto pistol, which sprang out from under his sleeves.
"Then what are you? A hitman? Or just a guy with a serious deathwish?"
The man's smirk widened a bit. "Half right. I'm a hitman, of sorts, but I'm not some little half-assed thug, like you. But, as for what I really am, the answer is simple: I'm a vampire."
The Yakuza thugs all shared looks, then burst out laughing.
"You...expect us...to believe that?!" a random goon choked out between laughs. "Kid, you're funny. What are you, sixteen, seventeen?"
The vampire never lost his smirk. "Seventeen, but I don't see what that has to do with anything."
This caused the thugs to laugh even harder, some actually keeling over and clutching their sides.
"Kid...just go home...and we'll forget all about this...You're funny as hell!...So we'll let you go...How about it?" Yokozuna wiped his eye, which nearly bulged out of its socket as he spat up huge amounts of blood and looked down. The teen he had just been laughing at now had his hand jammed through his chest, and was currently holding his left lung.
"I say..." the assassin squeezed the organ, causing the man to spit up more blood. "Have fun in hell." he ripped his hand from the man's chest and let him fall to the ground, dead.
Kenshin looked at the scene of brutality and screamed to his mean, "K-Kill him! Shoot him, SHOOT HIM!" he started to fire his handgun wildly, as did every other thug.
The vampire laughed as he ducked and dived in between round after round, weaving in and out of their line of sight.
"You're all pathetic, every last one of you! You have the nerve to call yourselves assassins when you can't even shoot straight?! You're a disgrace, even to something as low as Yakuza! Do everyone a favor, and DIE!" long katar blades shot out from inside the sleeves of his coat, just above his wrists.
"Dammit, someone shoot this g-!" the goon was cutoff by one of the blades being jammed through his skull.
Thugs started falling left and right, some being shot by their own companions, but most being torn apart by the teenage assassin. Limbs were severed, bodies were bisected, heads were lopped off, and blood flew everywhere.
Yakuza Clansmen outside were stumbling into the warehouse, drawn by the screams and gunfire, only to end up lambs to the slaughter. Some men tried to escape from the windows, but they were dragged into the shadows and fed upon by the vampire.
Soon it as all over. A small army of thugs, all supposed to be trained killers, completely decimated by a teenager. All that was left was Kenshin. He still had more info to give, and the assassin was intent on getting it out of him.
Kenshin whimpered in pain as he held the stump where his left hand used to be. His head snapped up and his eyes widened in fear as he heard the boot thumps of the vampire coming towards him. The monster appeared out of the shadows, its jaws around the throat of another man, holding him a foot off the ground with ease.
"Nice to see you stayed for the finale of this little party." the vampire spoke, though it was muffled by its meal.
Kenshin screamed, then picked up his .45 and fired four rounds at the monster before him before an empty click made the exhausted magazine known. The man dropped the gun and stared in horror, while the vampire laughed.
The creature looked down at the victim in its jaws, which had taken all four rounds, then released it, letting the limp corpse fall to the floor.
"Your aim really does suck, you know that?" the assassin stalked forward, instilling more fear into his prey.
Kenshin stared up at the towering beast that was now standing above him. "Please, have mercy! Spare me!"
The vampire glared down at the pathetic whimpering mess that was once a proud Yakuza. "...You suck...Big time." he muttered, then sighed. "Fine, I'll let you leave this warehouse alive. This is a one time deal, so I suggest you become a priest, and pray that you never meet me again. Am I clear?"
"Y-Yes s-s-sir!" Kenshin hopped to his feet and ran out of the warehouse.
He never saw the vampire pull a large handgun from behind his back, inside of his coat. He never heard the hammer of said gun being pulled back. He never registered the sound of the gunshot. But he felt the intense pain of a large caliber bullet ripping through his body. He tasted his own blood as it rushed up his throat. He smelled his blood as it spilled from the soccer ball-sized exit wound. The last thing he saw was the fact that he could see his own insides, and that his heart was gone.
The vampire walked out and sneered down at the corpse, then lifted it and tossed it back into the warehouse.
"Well, he got out of the warehouse alive, just like I said." he smirked, then took out eight small metal disks and placed one on the back of every sedan outside of the warehouse. Then, after taking to the rooftops, he took out a small remote and pressed on the red buttons. There was a small beep, then the entire warehouse went up in a giant explosion, accompanied by the smaller explosions from the cars.
"Well, I did tell you to be flashy, didn't I?" the Boss spoke from the reactivated comm. link.
"Yep. So, on to the so-called client?" the vampire asked, bounding from rooftop to rooftop.
"Yes. He tried to play us for fools, and he knows way too much about us. Get any information you can out of him before you take him out, preferably about who else among the Yakuza know about our organization. We can't have these lowlives blabbing to everyone, or the government will cut our funding. We've been put on notice quite a few times, mostly for stunts that you pulled. But all that's meaningless compared to this. Your mission is simple: find Shinji Yokenzou, interrogate him, then kill him. Destroy anything and/or anyone that gets in your way. Extreme prejudice is authorized, but try to keep explosions to a minimum. And if the autorities show up, kill Yokenzou and get out. Good luck, not that you'll need it. I'll inform the higher-ups of these new developements. Now, get to it, Agent Seventeen." the comm. link was shut off again.
The assassin smirked. "Yes sir." his eyes then widened as he felt a familiar presence, and he dove down into a pitch black alleyway.
And not a moment too soon, as a yellow blur shot passed overhead.
The vampire rose an eyebrow. 'Renamon? What is she doing roaming this far away from Rika's house? Meh, I don't have time for this, she's going towards the warehouse anyway, probably just drawn by the explosion.' he decided it was too risky to travel via rooftops with the ninja-like kitsune digimon roaming around, so he took to darting in between shadows, silent as a ghost, towards his next target.
(Thirty Minutes Later)
It was nothing short of absolute chaos at the Yokenzou mansion. Cars were flipped over and burning, walls were destroyed, entire sections of the home were demolished, bullet holes littered every surface, blood soaked the ground and floors, dead bodies were piled up around every corner, and a cocophony of screams and gunshots rang out all across the property.
No one was sure of exactly what had happened. It had been a normal night, guards armed with QZB-95, M4A1, and Type 89 assault rifles, and vicious attack dogs patrolled the grounds. While guards armed with Knights SR-25 XM110 semi-auto sniper rifles and long barrel FN SCAR-L/Mk.16 assault rifles roamed the rooftops. Inside were more guards armed with MP5's, P90's, SPAS-12 shotguns, and katanas patrolled the hallways.
With well fortified property, heavily armed guards, and a lot of political connections, the Yokenzou Clan had little to worry about from outside forces. That is, natural outside forces. They could never have known that they'd be dealing with a creature that no normal weapon could kill.
It had started off as just some random intruders, probably some novice assassins looking to make a name for themselves. The dogs were released along with two guards, both armed with M4A1 assault rifles. Neither they, nor the dogs ever returned. The other guards shared looks, then all hell broke loose. Most of the guards at ground level were felled by a salvo of automatic fire from within the dark treeline. The remaining guards fired at the last muzzle flashes, but hit nothing.
Other guards were sent to check it out and walked over, being covered by the snipers from the roof. All they found were two spent M4A1's and the mutilated corpses of the dogs and the first two guards. The live guards were each then gifted with a new hole to breathe out of before they fell to the ground. Everyone's attention turned to the snipers, only to find them all dead and two rifles missing.
Guards were being picked off one by one. Heads were exploding like the men had been chewing on M-80's. Cars were blowing up seemingly without reason. Sections of the compound were set on fire by some unseen being. Nothing, and no one, was safe from whatever demon had descended upon the Yokenzou household.
This thing just didn't stop! They had shot it, thrown grenades at it, some had even used throwing knives, but nothing worked! It just kept killing. Guards, dogs, Clansmen/women, everything with a pulse was hunted down and torn limb from limb. Only children and members of the clan that had no dealings in Yakuza affairs were spared.
Shinji Yokenzou was holed up in his private den, surrounded by twenty of his elite guards, each armed with the latest models of HK417 assault rifles, firing the powerful 7.62x51mm NATO rounds with magazines modified to hold 30 rounds, as opposed to the 20 rounds in a normal HK417 rifle. With a rate of fire set at a blistering 600 rounds per minute, these guards were ready to deal out some serious ass-kicking, and were well trained in the art of doing so.
Shinji was confident in his guards, as well as himself. Armed with a 2006 model AA-12 full-auto assault shotgun with a 20 round drum magazine, he was ready for anything short of Godzilla himself. Too bad, for him, that what was coming was even meaner than the big, green, nuclear lizard.
"Boys, get ready. As soon as that door opens, light up whatever the hell's on the other side! By the end of the night, I want this guy to have more holes than a sponge." Shinji unfolded the bipod on his shotgun and propped it up on his desk, checking the iron sights to make sure his aim was true.
More screams were heard, along with the sound of a P90 being unloaded. With a rate of fire at a dizzying 900 rounds per minute, the FN P90 had the highest rate of fire of any submachine gun, maybe the highest for anything short of a machine gun. But, apparently, it wasn't having any effect at all, or the guy was just too busy screaming like a little girl to aim correctly.
Before they knew it, the 50 round magazine had run dry and there was another scream, which was abruptly cutoff. Whatever the man had been shooting at was still alive and well.
Some of the elite guards started scratching their fingers on the triggers of their guns, just waiting for that demon to walk through the door. They'd send it straight back to hell with more holes than a Charlie Brown ghost costume!
More screams and gunshots, from an SPAS-12, much closer than those before. The next set of screams were from the guards in the hallway leading to the den. Soon the sounds of battle and slaughter died down, and whatever this thing was, it was right outside the door.
Three slow knocks, then a voice. "Housekeeping."
The guards opened fire on the door, the powerful rounds ripping through the solid red oak like it was wet toilet paper and tearing up the enemy on the other side.
Soon each 30 round magazine was exhausted and the guards quickly reloaded. But, before the empty mags even reached the ground, the door burst open and a black blur darted in and started cutting them to pieces.
The men didn't shoot, they didn't scream, most of them didn't even get a chance to inhale again before they were eternally silenced.
Shinji could only stare in horror. 7 seconds. That's all it took. His personal guards, the elite! ex-Special Ops. men. Black Ops., Green Berret, there were even a few ex-SEALs mixed in. But none of them were a match for the monster that was now standing before him, covered in the blood of his men.
"I feel sorry for your maid, I really do. You know, she deserves a raise after this." the killer laughed. "From her new employer, that is."
Shinji snarled, looking into the red lenses of the man's glasses, only see his own terrified visage reflected in them. His eyes widened, wasn't he just snarling? Why did he still look so afraid?
'It's like...he's looking into my soul...' Shinji thought.
The killer grinned, putting his long fangs on full display. "You tried to play us, Yokenzou."
Shinji started to sweat. "W-W-What are y-you talking about? I-I d-d-don't even know y-you!"
"True, you don't know me. But I know you, and you know my employer. You hired an assassin to take out a rogue branch of your own thugs, and they sent me. You thought we'd just kill them without getting any info we could out of them? We aren't you, we're true professionals."
Shinji's eyes widened. "Y-You! Y-You're from the A-Agency!"
The assassin nodded. "Yes, I am. I'm one of their top assassin's, as a matter of fact, and I've only been with them for four years. But that's beside the point. You seem to have forgotten that, no matter what you do, there will always be someone better at it. You tried to mess with the best, now you're going down like the rest!" he lifted one of the katar-like blades, which was covered in blood and gore from the nearly 200 men he had killed. "Look at these. They're real beauties, eh? Solid titanium construction throughout, rust proof, bullet proof, heat resistant, acid resistant. Damn near indestructible, but I've got four spares, just in case." he stuck out his unnaturally long tongue and licked some of the blood over, leaving a clean streak showing the shiney, unmarred metal underneath.
"Just look at that, the blood comes right off." he whipped it to the side, causing the rest of the blood to fly off, then showed Shinji the clean blade. "Non-stick, just like momma's cookware." he laughed, then looked at Shinji's forgotten weapon. "Oh, an AA-12 assault shotgun! I don't have one of those, you mind if I take it after I kill you? I'm taking some of your other toys as well. I'm a collector, of sorts. And besides, you never know when this kind of firepower will be useful!"
Shinji smirked. "You like it? Why don't I give you a little demonstration, then we'll see if you can handle it!" he opened fire on the vampire.
20 shells later, the assassin was down. How he managed to stay standing while being shot 20 times with a 12-gauge shotgun, Shinji would never know.
"Hah! Couldn't take it, could you, kid? This is the best the Agency has to offer? What a fucking joke!" he got up and made to walk around to the front of the desk. "Don't get me wrong, you were one hell of a killer, but you lack the finesse of a true...assassin...What the hell?!" the body was gone.
Shiji heard the sound of the bolt on his shotgun being cocked and turned around, only to stare down the barrel of his reloaded AA-12.
The "dead" assassin was sitting in the chair, boot-clad feet propped up on the desk, a picture of Shinji's teenage daughter in his left hand, the shotgun in his right.
"Wow...I mean fuckin' WOW! Your daughter is one hot babe! You sure she's yours? I don't see the resemblance." the killer smirked. "I've seen better," a scowling redhead in a bakini popped up in his head, "but she's definately up there."
Shinji growled, but only got his nose pressed into the barrel of the shotgun. "You can kill my guards, you can kill my Clansmen, but please, leave my daughter alone." he pleaded.
The assassin sat the photo down, took off his shades, and looked straight into Shinji's eyes with his glowing crimson ones. After a few seconds he narrowed his eyes and replaced his glasses.
"I can see you were a good father to her. You're all she has, since she doesn't like your latest wife. I'm sure she'll be fine, but she will suffer enough from the death of her father."
Shinji pulled up another chair and sat down, the shotgun still in his face. "So, this is how I go out? Without honor, without pride, a disgraceful death."
The assassin shook his head. "There's no honor in running away from a fight, but there's no shame in fighting and getting your ass kicked."
Shinji chuckled. "At least someone remembers the old ways." he closed his eyes and sighed. "May they live on in the hearts and minds of people like you."
The assassin nodded, then squeezed the trigger. The lound shot rang out across the now silent compound, almost deafening. The vampire arose from the chair and gave a respectful bow to the former samurai. For the next few minutes he walked around the mansion, picking up any weapons that he didn't have and taking all the ammo he could find. He walked into the garage and found a black Chevy Avalanche just sitting there and he whistled.
After stuffing all of his weapons and ammo into the truck, he turned on the comm. link.
"Yes, Agent 17?"
"Right. Good work, as always, 17. Is there anything else?"
"Yes. I found a truck here that I want you to register in my name. It's a black Chevy Avalanche. Must be stolen, it still has an American license plate:" he leaned back to look at it, "Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" he laughed.
"What is it?"
"The license plate is, get this, 'AGNT 017'. Freaky, right?"
The sound of someone spitting something out and laughing was heard.
"A destined meeting if I ever heard of one! Everything will be taken care of, don't worry about it. We'll have to modify your truck, of course. Do something with the engine, put some Ro-Plates on it. Anything else?"
"We've discussed this before. No."
"Already comes standard."
"Game and internet setup?"
"Do it yourself."
"Missiles in the headlights?"
"N-?...That's not too bad of an idea, actually. Bring the truck in, after you drop off your 'toys', and we'll fix it up for you. After this you've got a bit of downtime scheduled, so take it easy. The other two Agents in the area are now back on the active roster, and now it's your turn for a vacation. And NO HUNTING! We do NOT need a fiasco like that one that resulted from your last rampage!"
"Hey, Wolfgirl started it, and I finished it!" the Agent defended himself as he got into the truck. He could hear sirens in the distance.
"And you couldn't have 'finished it' in a dark alley somewhere?!"
"...That sounded so wrong when you said it. And she was hunting me, not the other way around!"
"And you stalking her through a carnival at night isn't hunting?"
"Oh, for fuck's sake, for the last fuckin' time; I. Was. Looking. For. Some. Sugarwaffles! She saw me, assumed I was following her, dragged me into that lame-ass 'Haunted House' ride no one wanted to go on, and tried to rape me!"
"Eat me! She tried to eat me!"
"You said rape."
"No, I didn't."
"Yes, you did."
"I just recorded you saying it!"
"I'm orry, I'm oing oh a unnel. Alk oh you ater." the Agent switched the comm. link off and cursed to himself for making such a bad slip-up. He'd be the laughing stock of the Agency if they found out he was terrified of being raped by nymphomaniac shewolf. Even if most vampires saw werewolves as inferior beings, and, in some cases, pets, there was no getting around the fact that a fully transformed werewolf could overpower almost any vampire. And she was no different.
It also didn't help that she was someone that knew his true identity, even though she didn't know they were the same person, and was friends with his friends. It was a very delicate situation, but as long as he didn't fuck it up, things would be alright...Right?
And there you have it, the prototype for the first chapter of Tamer of the Hazard: Vampire Version. If you have any suggestions about a better subtitle, please tell me, 'cause my mind is kinda blank at the moment.
This fic is influence by Hellsing in the way Takato interacts with his boss. He loves to annoy him, and point out when he's out of character. He also likes to point out the obvious when speaking to him, which also annoys the Boss to no end. The guns are NOT inspired by Hellsing or Alucard. The way he carries them is inspired by Dante from the Devil May Cry franchise, and the way he shoots is inspired by Ocelot from Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater. He relies mostly on accuracy and speed to get the job down, but will frequently perform tricks with his guns to distract tougher opponents, and will pull off seemingly impossible trick shots when he's bored with his enemies. Oh, and he also keeps three revolvers in his own private "torture chamber" for the gun juggling trick, used for interrogation.
He may have a weird name, and a lot of weird habits(who doesn't in the MGS series?), but he's undeniably badass(again, who isn't?).
Oh yeah, and you all might want to read grimandgrimmer's fic Devil May Cry 3: Takato's Awakening. You can guess what it's about, but, as far as I know, it's the first of its kind on this site.
As always, if you have any questions, feel free to ask.
Until next time, folks!