Chrono Crusade Fan Fiction ❯ Pandemonium Moment ❯ Harvest ( Chapter 4 )

The Pandemonium Moment

By Prinder

 

Rated: R for violence, Religious warping, and questionable topics.

Summary: The devil Yashua has been taken to New York where his destiny will be determined by the less-than enthusiastic Sister Kate. Time over-laps and it seems that, as the actors take the stage for the raising curtain, one question is the most prominent: Who is good, who is evil, and who can tell the difference?

Disclaimer: Chrono Crusade does not belong to me.

Legend: “talking”

`thinking'

reading

written

“Talk Electronically sent somehow”

 

 

 

Chapter Four: Harvest

 

March 30th, 1938

 

“Sister Azmaria, this is certainly unexpected of you.” Sister Kate commented, her eyes on the small horned child in the lavender-haired woman's arms; its yellow eyes stared up at her, wide and clearly frightened. `Good. It would do to know the fear of God young, especially if it is to stay here.' She thought, looking back at Azmaria's face, which was scrunched into a look of desperate need, as though, if she did not get this request fulfilled, she would break. Kate sighed, already knowing that she was defeated.

 

“I know, Ma'am, but please, if you can only see it in your heart to do this for me—“

 

Kate raised a hand, silencing her before speaking her own piece, “Relax, Sister Azmaria, my answer is yes—“ Anna's screaming as she hugged Azmaria, rejoicing, cut Kate off.

 

“You did it! That's wonderful! I can't—“ Anna said, laughing, heedless of the child that was pinned between the two women. Kate cleared her throat loudly, indicating she was not finished; the two women fell silent.

 

“However, he will not be permitted to enter the Church itself. We will prepare a room for him in the Elder's workshop. He will stay there and assist him.” Sister Kate said calmly, resolutely nodding to herself, `It is a good compromise.'

 

She hadn't expected them to contact her about their mission so soon after being sent to Nevada to help the Virginia branch, and she certainly wasn't expecting them to request that she leave her office and meet them outside; in fact, if it were even possible, she expected even less to be looking down at a devil—a baby devil, of all things. Anna had quickly filled her in on everything that had transpired, from going to watch the bomb shelter, to meeting the devil and Ellen Hatchet, to taking the child back to the Virginia branch, to going to Ellen's home the next day and speaking to its mother.

 

“She said, `please, just take him away, I am unfit to be his mother, not while Louis was alive, and not now.' Ma'am,” Anna had said, “It will be put into a detailed report as soon as possible.”

 

“We had her sign his custody over to the Magdalene order. Normally something like that would take some time, but, since there was no real record of his birth, except for a police report about the blood stains in her car—We already collected those from the police officer who handled that investigation—there is nothing that proves that he's alive except for the fact that I'm holding him in my hands,” Azmaria further explained, “Since he isn't considered a real person to the real world, there wasn't need to bring the court into it. Signing him over was more for her sake.”

 

“It may be for the best!” Edward Hamilton, the Church Elder, announced, walking over to them, his back slightly hunched, “I'm getting up there in age, and I could use an extra helping hand, and what better than a Devil? He would know by instinct alone what sorts of things that could combat other Devils.” He peered at the child through his thick green spectacles, also taking time to admire Azmaria's firm breasts that the child so innocently was held against by Azmaria's arms. The action did not go unnoticed by Anna, who promptly called him on his lecherous ways and throttled him soundly for it. Only the child seemed alarmed by either action.

 

“His name is Yashua.” Azmaria said, blinking when she saw Sister Kate's expression change to that of mild surprise. “Ma'am?” Anna stammered.

 

Sister Kate shook her head to clear her mind, brushing the similarities aside as pure coincidence; the mother of the devil was a follower of the Holy Woman, if the child's identity was truly a shock to her after its birth, of course there was always a chance she had named it before she saw its face. That was Kate's logical reasoning for his name. “You said he could speak on his own already.” She stated, changing the subject.

 

Sensing the need to prove himself, Yashua looked up at the nun. “Who are you?” He asked as all of the other sisters and brothers murmured around them, astounded.

 

“This is our Headmistress, Sister Kate, Yashua.” Anna said answering for her. Kate took that as a sign to continue, recovering from her shock, she met the devil eye-to-eye while the others watched.

 

“Do you understand what I am saying, Yashua? It is very important, because there are rules you will be expected to follow here.”

 

“I will do my best, Sister Kate.” He replied, the words coming out of his mouth with only slight difficulty.

 

“Good. Sister Azmaria, Sister Anna, you are dismissed to finish your written report on the case. Elder, if you will take the devil from Azmaria and follow me, I will explain to him the rules.”

 

“Of course, Sister. Well,” the Elder said, holding out his arms, “Come along boy, we have a lot to talk about.”

 

“Ha-yes.” Yashua said, allowing the Elder to take him into his arms. Reaching his tiny hand over the Elder's shoulder, he waved his clawed fingers to the two sisters who rescued him, smiling when they waved back happily. `I have friends now,' he thought, his spirit seeming to grow calmer.

 

He had never realized just how scared he had been, surviving on his own in the bomb shelter, until he had been taking in by them. At first, he had been scared of Azmaria hugging him, but once she had told him about her friend, `Another one, just like me,' he had released the tension within himself slowly. Anna provided another means to ease the inner chaos inside him; on the long train ride to New York (they had given him a hat to hide his horns under, which he now wore like a treasure) Anna sat on the floor for hours with him, teaching him to play games; something he had never done before until that day. That night on the train, Azmaria sung him to sleep. Comparing it to the shallow life he lived before they came for him, he would easily agree to anything the Headmistress ordered him, if it would mean that he could stay.

 

“You will be expected to help with all of the chores, listen to the orders of the other brothers and sisters. During morning Mass, you are to sit quietly in the workshop or outside. You will NOT be permitted to interrupt the service in any way, shape, or form. For meals, you are to go to the kitchen and fetch the plates for you and Elder. Do you understand so far?”

 

“Yes, I do, Sister Kate.” He replied eagerly, holding onto each word she head.

 

Pausing for a moment to look at the devil in the Elder's arms, she continued, “You will not be permitted to use your powers here; if you cannot show control over them, we will place a cross barrier around your room, and you will not be allowed to leave it.”

 

Yashua swallowed the lump in his throat, it tightening on him as she spoke. He nodded so that she knew he had been listening, redoubling his efforts to try to find a way to reign his powers in; he wasn't going to let that be the thing that would ruin the one happy thing that had happened since he was born.

 

“You are to help the Elder with all of his tasks and you are to do everything he says to the letter and you will follow any of the rules he has for you as well.” She finished, stopping outside of the Elder's workshop.

 

“We'll get along swimmingly! Isn't that right, Yashua?” Edward asked the child, bouncing him in his arms lightly.

 

Yashua blinked, hanging onto the old man's white coat tightly with is small fingers, not sure what to think about his question until he looked up at the old man's eyes, able to see the reassuring wink behind the glasses before smiling, “Right!”

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

December 20th, 1937

 

“Honey, aren't they beautiful? God's little gifts.”

 

The child stared from her place on the ground, the mud and rain seeping into her tiny flowered dress, her twin brother (wearing a blue shirt and overalls) kneeling in shock next to her.

 

“Benjamin! Bethany! Go say hello to your daddy! Daddy's home!”

 

The sirens that screamed around them as firemen tried to heave bodies from the flaming car. No one understood how the two children made it out of it alive, not even the kids themselves, who were too young to understand anything that was going on around them at the moment.

 

“We're going to go up to visit grandma, won't you like that? I bet she can't wait to see you two! My little angels.”

 

Bethany and Benjamin, both only 1 and a half years old were the victims of fate. According the report from the New York Police, their father was driving the car in the midst of a downpour and lost control of the vehicle while making a turn; he hit and killed Richard Blythe, the owner of the bar at the corner they turned. Had he left at his usual time, he might have been able to save himself from sharing their parent's fates; why he was leaving so long past his usual closing time, only God knew. The search for their other living relatives would take some time, until then they would be at the mercy of the social services system.

 

“Those poor kids….”

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

February 13th, 1938

 

“Evan, could you take out the trash please? I've got my hands full!” Jane, a spunky woman with blonde hair and green eyes, called as she fumbled with diapers and her two-year-old twins, who were a spitting image of their father.

 

“Huh? Yeah, yeah, I'll get to it.” Evan, her husband, answered, waving his hand, but not moving an inch from his place in front of the television. Jane fumed and quickly changed their diapers and returned them to they play-pen, intending to give him an earful for not helping out with Tristen and Trisha—who were growing more and more rambunctious every day.

 

Evan, a gangly 5' 11” tall man with sandy brown hair and blue eyes, never saw her coming. It seemed like they had always been fighting since the kids were born, and he didn't know what to do with her. “OW! DAMNYOU, JANE, WHAT THE HELL?!”

 

The twins watched them through the bars of their playpen, their blue eyes reflecting the shifting light from the black and white television set.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

October 3rd, 1937

 

Mrs. Gene sighed, looking out the window at the children in the swings, mentally ticking off their names as she saw them. `Peter Simon, Andrew Lake, James and John Bishop, Philip Matthis, Luke Bartholomew, Thomas Didymus, Matthew Kingston, James Young, Judas Theoddaeus, Simon Farmer, Tabitha Dorcas, Pheobe Diakonos, Lucia Moore and 11 more war-orphans are on the way?' she thought with worry. She had been looking after the children in Seventh Bell Orphanage ever since she, herself, was an orphan. She still remembered all of the children before these ones, and though she loved them all equally, there was a special place for Rosette and Joshua Christopher; who, in a way, sacrificed themselves to give the others a new chance at living. `God bless them.'

 

For how broken their hearts must have been, the children of the second world war at Seventh Bell got along perfectly. Their ages varied; the youngest child, Thomas (called Tommy by the other kids), was turning two next week, and the oldest, Lucia, was 14—a young woman with a tragic story that started from the day she was born until she was nine years old, when the Sisters brought her to Mrs. Gene's door. In truth, some of them might not be completely orphaned, just misplaced by the system, and the adults in the world had not gotten around to finding their relatives (if there were any that were still alive). Not all of them were true WW II orphans, some of them simply were the result of everyday problems.

 

Parents were abusive. A single parent died of natural causes. Found on the side of the road with no name. Mafia child.

 

All of them forgotten.

 

`What kind of world is it when our nation's future is forgotten?'

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

April 7th, 1939

 

“Yashua, could you hand me that—“ Elder began to ask, stopping to look at the time on the grandfather clock at the other end of the shop, before being cut off by the voice of Yashua, who was reading.

 

“It's right next to you. I got it for you already.” He said, turning a page, bored. Idly, he skimmed the holy book for references to devils, but it gleaned little information.

 

“Oh, right you are. How did you know?” Edward asked, picking up the small box full of Holy Water shot, used to make Sacred bullets. He had a hunch on how Yashua knew; it was that the devil boy didn't actually. Glancing the clock he had only looked at a second ago, he noted that had jumped in time by two minutes. The Elder smirked, `Why that little devil.'

 

Yashua mumbled something incoherent, setting the Bible aside on the windowsill. Just by how the old man had responded, rather the lack of response, he knew the jig was up. Though the Elder had made it clear with Yashua, after Sister Kate had left them at the workshop for the first time, that he did not want Yashua to let his powers to diminish in strength (in fact, quite the opposite, the old man thought it would be beneficial to the Order if he used his demonic powers for good—or so he said, Yashua still didn't trust if that was actually what he meant), so during morning prayer, the Elder would usually set up a barrier area for Yashua to train himself in, so that they would not draw the undesired attention of Sister Kate. Despite that, the Elder did not seem to appreciate being used as a test dummy and Yashua learned very early that, when Edward Hamilton got quiet, trouble was soon to follow. “I didn't mean to do it; it just seemed normal to just make time stop for a minute so that I find them and you could get back to work.” He confessed.

 

“My boy, out of all of your powers, freezing time is the most hazardous one for you to just be playing with. Why, I knew one devil who had his horns given to a child, who then mistakenly used their full power to turn all of his friends into statues. The devil had to get an other devil's horns with a counter power to undo the effect! What would happen if you used that power too strongly?!” He demanded, hurling a fist full of Holy Water at the devil child.

 

Yashua panicked, having been attacked by the stuff before by the old man (on more than one occasion, and the result was never pleasant feeling) the next thing he knew the droplets of Holy Water had been turned into rock and fallen harmlessly to the floor. Yashua stared at them with shock as Edward scoffed, getting out of his chair.

 

“Can't change them back to normal, can you?” Edward asked, chuckling.

 

Yashua frowned; the old man was right. When ever he needed to make time stop, all he needed to do was just let his “spirit” stretch out around to cover the area around him, when he was done, all he had to do was draw that same feeling back in again and everything would return to normal; but this time was different. As though he had sent a concentrated blast of that power through his hand (which was still raised in front of him in a poor attempt to defend himself), and was absorbed by the water so completely that he could not pull them back from their hardened state.

 

“You should work more on controlling your astral consumption; if you can do that, you should be able to limit the shape that your form takes.”

 

“I've been trying to do like you said, but it's too hard!” Yashua whimpered, “The minute I see progress it reverts back again. Maybe the devil you knew could do it, but what if I can't? Baby Devils being born from human parents isn't—“

 

“FIDDLESTICKS! Quit your sulking and shape up, boy! You shouldn't dismiss yourself on the count that you're different! And who is to say that neither one of them didn't have devil in their bloodline somewhere, or one of them could have signed a contract with another devil to have you and didn't realize the price they would pay. Whatever the case, you have to keep working at it. You're already years ahead of most human children mentally and physically, and I'm willing to bet that you have something that other devil's don't have that makes you this strong when you're still so young so—“

 

“Thank you, Elder.” Yashua interrupted, walking over to the old man, “Someday I'll live up to your expectations.”

 

“Well that's more like it! Now give me a hand with these things before the girls start to wonder why their stash of ammo hasn't been replenished yet.”

 

“Yes, El— Ah!” Yashua stopped his sentence, turning his head to look at the door, hearing the dinner bell from the kitchen chiming. Turning back to Edward, he held out his hands, “Give me our clean plates; dinner is ready.”

 

“Eh?” Edward shrugged, reaching for the plates on the table and passing them down to the small child, “I shouldn't be surprised that you could hear that. An old man like me, I can't hear much of anything these days, but now that you're here, I guess I won't have to worry about missing the dinner bell.” He chuckled. “Don't drop anything.”

 

“Ha-yes. I'll do my best.” The devil child replied heading out the open door as quickly as he could manage with his short legs. He failed to see the Elder become misty-eyed.

 

`It's so hard to not expect to see Rosette tagging along with him. Oh Lord, that boy looks like Chrono… he looks too much like him. I can only hope that that does not become an even greater burden on his sweet heart.'

 

In the kitchen, Azmaria and Anna were busy helping Mary and Claire serve the others when Yashua walked up to the back door and knocked on it as loudly as he could with his hand.

 

“Heyhey! Don't crowd! Geez, you guys are being a bunch of animals today! PIPEDOWN!” Anna complained over the yelling of hungry men and women, her hair pulled up under her habit by a net cap to keep it out of the food.

 

“At least they will have the appetite to enjoy all of the food that Mary and Claire made.” Azmaria panted as she wiped her brow; she was busy cleaning a particularly large pot that was used to make the rice and it was proving to be more difficult than she thought it would be to scour the more over-cooked parts, that were stuck at the bottom, free from the steel.

 

“Mary, can you get the door?” Claire asked, collecting dirty dishes.

 

“Sure! Just give me a minute!” Mary pleaded, trying to help Anna deplete the line of nuns and monks.

 

“I can get it!” Azmaria announced, about to set her scrub brush down.

 

“But if you do that, we're going to have an even bigger problem of all of these dishes trying to kill us!” Anna growled, growing frustrated by the inability to think over the commotion. “SHUT THE HECK UP ALREADY!” she screamed, making Mary jump, ladle in hand, and drop a scoop of rice onto the floor.

 

“Oh no!” Mary moaned, mourning the lost morsel.

 

“Hey! What's the hold up?! We're hungry here!” another sister questioned near the back of the line, causing another flux of questions to go through the crowd.

 

“Do you think they're running out of food?”

 

“Oh that's great! I just got back from having to track down three devils who were unleashed by a bank robber! What else can go wrong today?!”

 

“Ahh! Sorry, sorry, So very, very, sorry!” Mary apologized as she redoubled her efforts. “Maybe, Claire, if you took over for Anna, she could get the door!”

 

Claire sighed, barely glancing at Anna, who was busy issuing threats of pain onto the next person who pushed someone into the tray that held the potatoes (the cart was old and did not look like it could put up with much more abuse), “Oh Mary, we couldn't do that, not at the risk of her going ballistic on them, too.”

 

“I heard that, Claire! Why don't you answer the door?” Anna fanged her rebuttal at the brown-haired nun.

 

“That's an excellent idea!” Azmaria chimed, wondering why she hadn't done so in the first place.

 

“Alright, I'm going right now…” Claire said, trailing off as she turned the knob and opened the door.

 

From the other side of the thresh hold, a pulsating gust of wind flooded into the kitchen and eating area. Suddenly, everything was quiet.

 

“Hi.” Yashua said sheepishly, looking up at the kitchen staff, who were blinking at him with surprise.

 

Azmaria turned to look at the people in the waiting line; they were completely still, like statues made of flesh. She turned to look at Yashua.

 

“It won't last long. I made bubbles around you so that you could keep working and get them all served easier.” The three-year-old explained, “Please don't tell Sister Kate, but it's the only way that I could help.”

 

Anna smiled, slightly distressed, but still grateful. “Okay! Let's make use of it, I guess! Everyone grab a pan! Yashua, you help too!”

 

“Right away!” The other women replied, hurrying to assist her. Yashua smiled happily and followed suit.

 

Once the work was finished and everyone had been unfrozen, Yashua took the food for the Elder and him self and left, Anna sat down to recover from the day's activities. `I didn't trust Chrono, either, when he was here.' She thought, sighing as she looked up at the ceiling, `We really took him for granted, too. Yashua thinks he means well by using his powers to help us, but he's more of a devil than Chrono was; Yashua has his horns, and the only thing that controls him is himself! I want to say that I'm okay with him, but it really terrifies me that he has so much power.'

 

“I'm glad we had Yashua, today. He was able to give us a chance to catch up.” Azmaria said, sitting down next to her partner, her expression thoughtful, “Chrono would never have used his powers like that. But it's hard, it's really hard, to remember that he and Yashua aren't the same people. I'm worried that he might feel that he has to live up to Chrono's legacy, because we're always confusing them with each other.”

 

“Az—“

 

“No, I think I'm going to take out the picture of the others and me at the festival in San Francisco.” Azmaria said, her mind somewhere else.

 

Anna's thoughts drifted to the picture of Azmaria and her late friends. Anna, herself, did not give herself the chance to get to know Rosette and Chrono; and she never really had the chance to know Satella. She remembered only being able to help Joshua back to The Magdalene Order, but aside from that, she was a bystander to the whole thing. In a way, she felt selfish, because she seemed to only think of using Yashua to make amends to the dead for her neglect. “He'd probably be shocked to see how much he looks like his predecessor.” She commented, offhandedly.

 

“I guess you're right, but that might be good for him! It might give him the courage to try harder to stay good, and not let the fact that he is a devil stop him from being that way.”

 

“Azmaria, you're really beyond words.” Anna remarked wryly.

 

Azmaria chuckled, “Thank you.”

 

 

Chapter Four end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~

 

Not exactly what we predicted, was it? Which set of twins is Rosette and Joshua? Who will remember who first? What is Aion up to? The pieces are falling together, and everything is falling apart.

 

Where are the disciples and apostles?!

 

Stay tuned to find out!

 

Ja ne!

 

~Prinder