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Solitude of the Devil's Village
Topic Started: May 3 2010, 10:15 PM (305 Views)
Saito
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Actually Saito's Sister

I hope I'm allowed to post here... Not really a Fanfic, but just a stroy.

"To different minds, the same world is a hell, and a heaven."

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

A lone coach rode trough the countryside, the rain pouring down. It was cold and dark, with the dark shadows of the mountains obscuring the light of dawn. The water slicked the flagstone rode, causing the wheels of the coach to slide. The road had been worn and was rough, with wheels of others long past. A man sat in the front, round and portly, with a bushy mustache, wet with rainwater. His fingers were tightly gripping the reins. His hands were worn with years of work. The man wore a hat, the rain pelting the rim. There was a small lamp hanging beside him on the coach, illuminating the dark night. Inside the coach, sat a young man, no more than 20, wearing a brown coat and black slats. He was asleep, book in hand. On his belt, was a leather sheath for a long hunting knife. His brown hair was combed and his reading glasses lay in their dark case. His arms were crossed, his hand covered by white gloves. Inside the coat was a brown vest, buttoned up, the tacks glimmering in the dim light of the inside of he coach. His name was Noah Cowell, detective of the Department of Special Investigations. Opposite to him, on the other side of the coach, sat another man, age 22. His wore a black coat, and wore clothes similar to the first man. His vest was black, and he wore no gloves. His hair was jet black and he had sharp bangs which hung slightly over his eyes. His eyes seemed blank, a sea of darkness, preoccupied with things that no one but himself could understand. This man's name was William Grimm, Special Unit of the Department of Special Investigations. Both were partners to the Department. Just newly assigned to the case in the village of Lavos to locate missing agents Edward Quentin and Vel Ginger, who had gone missing two weeks prior.

The man outside was named Frank Wenre, private coach driver to the Noah, and they were headed for the village in the Valley of the Devil, Lavos. Recently, there had been reports of killings there. The department had sent people to investigate, but they had disappeared. Fearing for the worst, they sent two more, the best in their department to go and try to locate the missing operatives. Now the two were hurtling along in the wooden coach.

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