[wpnsiu86]

hi everyone, i'm actually thinking of writing a claymore fanfic, but on a different timeline, with entirely new characters. This story takes place 200 years after the current events in the actual manga (why 200 years? well... just a random number). Below is a little prologue, i will some comments before i continue with the main story. Hope you guys will like it!

Spoiler for Prologue:

“Oh… there you are. I thought you were lost or something,” a middle aged man in a black coat called out to a similarly dressed young man.

“Sorry, I got the location mixed up,” the young man said apologetically. Still in his early twenties, Makedon ran up to his mentor. He was supposed to learn the trades of a handler. In due time, Makedon will have to handle a few Claymores. Their clothing, missions, everything. Not an easy job, but probably the most prestigious job for males working in the organization.

“My oh my… you’re just as your name suggests,” the older handler remarked, having to tilt his head upwards just to see the young man’s face. Makedon was tall, and well built. A perfect physique for a warrior.

“Ahh… sorry about that, Master Ruben,” Makedon replied sheepishly, probably a bit embarrassed that he caused some problems for his mentor. It was then that the young man noticed a group of young girls training at a grass patch nearby.

“Punch harder!” a loud voice filled the air, “You girls better not slack off! I’ll kill you if you do that!”

Just beside the group of girls was a huge man. Standing just as tall as Makedon, the burly trainer had his eyes fixed on the young girls. Any mistake, and the trainer’s gigantic fists will greet that unfortunate girl. These girls have yet to receive the operation. They’re just training to ensure that they are physically and mentally ready for the upcoming operation.

“That’s Jorge,” Ruben spoke suddenly, startling Makedon a little. “He is the toughest of all trainers. In fact, more girls have died under his training than all the other trainers combined. Pretty impressive, huh?”

What’s so impressive about that? Makedon thought to himself.
“Hey! You! What are you doing!?” Jorge shouted out. One of the girls had apparently stopped training. She just started walking away for no reason.

Whack! Jorge’s fists landed on the girl’s right cheek, sending the girl on her knees.

“This training is shit. I don’t need it,” the young girl retorted as she stood up, before she looked at Jorge straight in his eyes. Tears weren’t forming in the girl’s eyes, as one might expect. In fact, no a single shred of fear was detected on the girl’s cold and unfeeling gaze.

Jorge was taken aback. Known to be a no nonsense trainer, not once has a trainee dared to look at him in the eyes. All the other girls in the group dare not even look at what was happening. Yet this young girl showed no fear.

“You little slut! You sure are asking for it!” Jorge rushed forward to throw another punch at the girl.

Without warning, the young girl leapt sideways and pushed Jorge in the direction he was running. Slightly off balance, Jorge stumbled a bit before turning around to attempt another punch. Predicting that he will do that, the young girl quickly ran towards Jorge, then ran past him as he was turning. By the time Jorge turned around, the young girl was behind him again.

“Your movements are painfully predictable,” the young girl said in a calm manner, behind giving a hard kick to the back of Jorge’s left knee. With his left knee on the ground, the young girl could easily grab Jorge’s knife, strapped at his waist. Before he knew it, the sharp blade of the knife was only a millimeter from his windpipe. A small cut would be sufficient to kill him.

“Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic,” the young girl whispered to Jorge’s ears, before slashing his windpipe, her eyes not flinching one bit.

Makedon watched in horror as Jorge’s lifeless body slumped to the ground. A huge guy like him… has been killed by a girl less than half his size. Impossible! No way! Just who is she?

“My my… it’s been quite some time. Looks like we’ve got quite a talent,” Ruben smiled to himself, and walked off.