Trigun 1. Chapter 1

TheGreatLyagushka here. I was in a total Trigun kick, so I figured I would rework an old OC of mine, and make her not as Sueish. Don't think I succeeded in that, but I definitely like her a lot more. I've already used the name Elzabet, but, I figured, since this isn't a serious writing that I could just reuse the name.

Uhm, I think that this first part is going to be the only chapter written in first person. I just wanted to rough out her back story a bit. It's important, but I'm not going to focus on it long. Just enough to get a decent picture of the how, the why, the who and the what.

I don't own Trigun or any characters besides Elza. Please remember to critique! I absolutely need it!

I was only a child when I met him. I was a happy, normal child. I loved both my parents unconditionally, and aside from a few spats here and there, they loved each other too. Our home was nothing spectacular, but it was far from a shack. All in all, my life was wonderful.

I suppose I'm getting ahead of myself though. My name is Elzabet Warshed. I am better known by my moniker: Elza the Massacre.

I would have never thought, even for a second, that I could be so...docile, but that idea dissipated into nothingness the second I met him.

You must be wondering who HE is by now. Of course you are. The he that I refer to is none other than Millions Knives. I suppose I was taken by his beauty as a child. I'd always been quite a trusting child, so when he told me that flowers such as myself should not bloom in the desert, I was quite flattered. With a small wave of his hand and a sly smile, he took my hand and effectively dragged me from my home in the bright light of day and pulled me into an exhilarating blackness of which I had never dreamed existed.

I quickly grew accustomed to what Knives wanted of me. There were no sexual favors, of course, but I allowed him to violate my innocent mind; let him fill me up with anger and hatred for my own kin. I was entirely his. If Knives asked me to peel back my skin so he could rip out my still beating heart, I would've asked if he wanted me to pull it out instead so he wouldn't dirty his hands.

I knew that I was nothing to this god of a man, but, foolishly, I tried to gain his trust, thinking that it may very well lead to him loving me. I probably could've made him look at me, but Legato had to intervene at the last second-just like always.

By the time I was eight, I was so doll-like and fragile that I could easily stop grown men in their tracks, something neither Legato nor Knives were very appreciative of. Their solution was to cover up as much of me as possible. Each time I left, I was required to wear a hood, black pants and a black long-sleeve shirt. As much as I hated the coverup, I went along with it without question. If Knives didn't want men staring, then I was glad they didn't.

By nine, I was being trained as a sharpshooter. And I was good. I could hit a bullseye from two hundred feet and a sparrow's egg from four. The gun in my hand was never a weighty piece of technology; it was, instead, an extension of myself. Holding the gleaming steel piece in my hand gave me the kind of comfort most children would get from being cradled by their parents. As Knives so eloquently put it: I was a thing born to kill my fellow man.

I grew each passing day, spending my precious free moments sitting at Knives' feet and reading dusty volumes of poetry from long before my time. I was content to live in this manner for the rest of my life. Ah, but times change.

For years, we remained in statis, sitting silently in the other's presence, him lost in thought and me watching his lovely face change. But, once I hit fifteen, that all changed.

It was late at night. Though I was tired, I buried my nose into my latest volume, sitting peacefully at Knives' feet. In a blur, I was on my feet. "M-master?" I stammered, my eyes widening as his lips crashed into mine, hard enough to make me cut the inside of my lip on my teeth. My body tensed, then relaxed. His tongue slipped past my lips with no resistance, and his hands slid roughly up my back, nails digging painfully into the soft skin of my back. "Lay down." He growled, shoving me hard. I complied with little argument, laying on my back, and staring up at him. He discarded both of clothing, and, in cold silence, I lost my virginity to a man I saw as my god.

Okayyyy. That wasn't the most wonderful thing I've written, but it serves well enough. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Elzabet needed a drink. The night was hot and still, impossibly humid and clear. She sighed quietly and entered the saloon. The rowdy Friday crowd was still going strong, the smell of hops and barley almost a tangible haze hanging midair. She silently slipped past a throng of noisy men toasting to nothing and slipped into an open booth. She closed her pretty green eyes, rubbing her temples. God, but did she have a headache. Knives had been overly aggressive tonight, bruising her cheek and splitting her lip.

"Can I get you something to drink mam?" Asked a perky blonde waitress, pulling out her pad and grinning vapidly.

"Whiskey on ice. And keep them coming."

"Will do mam!" She walked pertly away, her long uniform shifting over her hips. Elza settled into the cheap booth and rested her forehead on the table. Five minutes later, the peppy waitress returned with a glass of ice and a bottle of whiskey. Elza waited until she had left, then poured herself a generous glass, swallowing down the booze and relishing in the burn it made as it went down.

"Having a good time?" Great. Legato.

She sighed and set the glass down harder than she intended. Legato was the most disgusting human she had ever had the displeasure of meeting. Though she found herself physically attracted to him, his mannerisms made her feel ill. She dreaded the second he laid his hands on her, dreaded hearing him speak. "I was." She grumbled quietly, refilling her glass. He didn't respond but sat across from her. "What do you want?" She asked angrily. Again, he didn't respond, but picked up the bottle and sloshed the contents around. "I want...absolutely nothing." He finally said, setting the bottle down lightly.

Elza sighed inwardly. Of course he picks now to be as obtuse as possible. "Listen. My job'll get done. And it will be done to master's standards. You don't have to follow me around, you freak." He only laughed.

"I hardly think you'll find our...problem in a place like this. I believe you should look for the man instead of drinking and wallowing in self pity with the riffraff." Pause. A lick of his hand. "Master is going after Vash. He can't have any distractions. So, I recommend you get this kill over with. And soon."

God, Elza could've screamed. Instead, she resigned herself to standing and walking away, her back stiff and stride long.

The mayor. That was her target. A portly man who seemed likable enough, Knives needed him gone in order to proceed with his plan. Why, Elza didn't know. She found that she wasn't normally privy to details such as that. And you don't question Knives. Not if you wanted to live.

She walked up to his office, flashing a flirtatious smile at the male secretary. Of course, he left her in without a moment's hesitation—after a promise of a "special favor." -men were so easy. She trooped up the stairs, pulling her gun and fitting on her silencer. After she did, she carefully stowed it back in her well worn grey coat. She made mental note of everyone she passed in the hall, knowing that she would have to off all of them.

With a practiced grace, she slipped into the mayor's office and hid behind a huge fake fern. He'd come at some point.

It took twenty minutes. The chubby man entered with a girl on his arm and a wad of bills in his free hand. Elza tensed. God dammit! He was supposed to be alone! She made a soft sound and shrugged. Sorry lady, she thought, you were at the wrong place at the wrong time. Pulling her piece, she stood in a flurry and shot from the hip. She didn't need to aim. The bullet hit him square between the eyes, killing him instantly. The girl, probably a few years younger than her upon closer inspection, screamed and dropped. "Daddy?!" She howled, gathering the man in her arms and weeping. "Ah. Shit..." Elza grimaced, but took aim. "Listen girly, I'm sorry. But you can't live after what you just saw." The girl began carrying on, completely hysterical. Elza heard a door down the hall open and groaned. Without a second thought, she shot the poor girl just as she had shot her father.

She made a quick round of the building, nipping into her witnesses rooms after peeking through the glass on their doors, and cleanly executing each one. After shooting the secretary, she left as silently as she had come and disappeared into the foggy haze of the dessert.

"You've done very well." Knives purred at her.

"Thank you master."

"Mm."

It wasn't much of an interaction, but it was enough. Speaking to Knives made her feel odd inside. It was a battleground inside her head every time. An overwhelming surge of affection, followed by disgust, then shame, then love. She felt as though she might cry every time he looked at her. Probably would have, had she not forgotten how to long ago. She realized he had finished speaking while she had been soliloquizing to herself. He was now speaking with Legato.

She stood and took her leave, walking into what had been made into a makeshift living room on the first floor of the hideout. "Ah! Kitten!" Midvalley called grinning. "Monsieur Midvalleee." She replied, giving him a curtsy and copping an accent. He laughed and motioned her over. She could rightly say that Midvalley was her only friend, more by proximity than anything else. Still, she greatly enjoyed his company; often times, he would try to convince her to play the guitar in unison with his sax. It rarely happened, but they bonded over the few times she had agreed. "So..."

"Hm? What?"

"When did you...I mean why did you pick up guitar?"

Cute. Elza laughed. "I didn't really have a reason. I just...needed to do something with my hands."

Midvalley shot her a mischievous grin. "Of course that's what you jump to first." Elza sighed, hoping he couldn't see the blush rising like steam on her face. He laughed. "No need to get so defensive, love. No need at all." Elza allowed herself a giggle at this. Midvalley smiled back, but immediately dropped it when Legato entered the room.

Elza glared at him, and stood. Most of the time, she could at least be in a room with him, but not today. He made awkward eye contact, letting his eyes slowly slide to her mouth.

"Going somewhere?"

"Out." She replied gruffly.

"Be careful. It's dangerous out there." The son of a bitch is mocking me now! Elza thought. That thought was accompanied by a very tempting image of his head on a pike.

Elza lived for the night. The stunning silence and the infinity of the star spattered sky above made her feel tiny, a feeling she quite liked. Some nights she would wander for miles; sometimes stopping in the dirty dive that served as the town's only bar, her destination tonight. She wandered in, growing wary of the silence in town. She took her usual spot at the neglected corner table and watched. She felt like a normal, living being when she was watching the drunken idiots. This was...normal.

Tonight, though, there seemed to be an odd air about the place, a tenseness she couldn't figure out. Silently, she moved closer to two men whispering in worried voices. "-ter what happened in July? No way! We'll end up just like them."

"I've seen the guy. He seems off in the head. Big crybaby too."

"I hear he's the real deal though. Vash the Stampede...I was expecting something much different."

Well...there went her fun night. Yippee. She sighed darkly, turning to leave. Knives would be pissed if she didn't report something of this magnitude immediately. Maybe...maybe she could "keep an eye on the target" and stay awhile longer; she got her booze and Knives got recon on his brother. Win, win.

She settled back down into the grimy seat. He'd be here at some point. There were no other bars, and besides, this dive had the best inn in town attached directly to the back. Best, of course, being used very loosely, but, hell, a bed is a bed is a bed.

She was right. At five til ten, a group of strangers walked in, led by a man who could only be Knives' brother. Tall and beautiful, he was an immediate swan amongst a batch of plain Jane ducklings.

"Hello sir! Would you happen to have any rooms open?" And so polite! Elza was impressed. The bartender eyed the man with something akin to disgust, and made a show of checking the rack—completely filled with room keys- then turned back and said "nope. No rooms for the likes of you."

"Aw, come on! You have plenty of space for us!" That was the black haired one with the obscenely large cross on his back. Elza grinned slightly. People in this hellhole of a town were wary of strangers. Add in the fact that the stranger was Vash the Stampede and you had a perfect storm on your hands.

"Get out of here murderer!" The bartender shrieked, pulling his gun.

"H-h-hey now! No need for violence!" No violence? From Vash the Stampede? Laughable.

She stood and meandered towards the group, keeping a careful eye on the argument.

"Ahem. Sir?" He couldn't say no to her, she knew.

"Don't get too close to these men Elza. Killers, both of them."

She nearly laughed. Killers weren't afraid of others like them. No, killers longed for death from the hands of someone better.

"I'm sure one night couldn't hurt. Come on Fred. I'll stand guard if it'll make you feel better." A smile. And gone.

"...I...hm."

"I promise to watch them like I'm gonna be tested on it. Come on Fred. I'll make sure they're gone before you even get up."

"Well, if anything happens, Elza, it'll be on you. Kapeesh?"

"Of course."

Fred handed the keys to 108 over grudgingly and kept his eyes on Elza's back until she was out of sight.

Once they escaped Fred's prying eyes, Elza turned back to the group, giving her brightest PR smile. "So, do you folks always make such a scene?" god, that sounded simpering. Vash laughed quietly. "Yeah, you could say that."

"Well, it'd probably be best to hightail it out of here as soon as you can. People don't trust anyone 'round here." she grinned more naturally; wasn't that the truth.


End file.

Trigun, Drama