Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Demon Angelic- rewrite ❯ Chapter 5 ( Chapter 5 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Demon Angelic

+Chapter 5+

I had no idea why I was feeling so sluggish, like my brain was pulling a loaded cannon up the sheer side of a cliff. I was elbows deep in warm water, scrubbing the dinner dishes. I had agreed to clean since Nagi still hadn't had a chance to change out of his school uniform. The water felt good on my skin, smooth as silk, an all encompassing void of clear heat. I wondered vaguely if that is what a risen soul felt like… if it could be felt at all. Laughing my thought away, I finish rinsing the last dish and headed for the stairs. Nagi should be done dressing by now, and I really would like to see that new episode of Yami No Matsuei that he had talked about. I had never been allowed much downtime in the Yakuza, but when I did have an opportunity to relax, I tried to catch up on my idle pleasures, one of which was watching the shiningami battle to balance the scales of life and death while staving off evil. Funny-- always seemed to me like a familiar song and dance, or maybe I'm just trying to justify my own sins.

I had a little trouble keeping my balance on the stairs and decided I must be coming down with a head cold. I thanked the spirits profusely once again for sturdy handrails.

When I finally got to Nagi's room, I found him, sporting army green drawstring cargo pants and white t-shirt, cueing up the anime on the computer with the largest monitor. He didn't say anything just finished up at the keyboard and turned to me with a smile before walking past me and out into the hallway. Must be going to make those s'more things he was talking about earlier. He said that Crawford had made them for him his first winter with the team while in Milan; the American had a secret sweet-tooth that only Nagi and now I knew about.

I crawled onto the foot of the bed and stretched out on my stomach, feet pointing toward the pillows. Lying like this always made me feel like a little kid, reminding me of a hundred rainy days inside with papa and my little shadow. Any intention I had of sinking into the saccharine sweet bitterness of memory was interrupted by the sound of flesh rubbing over carpet as Farfarello stalked through the door in all his somber, black-clad glory and sank with a near boneless grace to the floor at the foot of the bed. He leaned his back against the bed and tilted his head so the functional left eye was regarding me placidly. “Good evening.” I needed to ask Nagi if he had any cold medicine- my voice was starting to sound a little thick, almost like I was tipsy or something.

He made no reply just looked away, toward the monitor to watch as the credits scrolled across the screen. I saw that he had changed shirts since this morning from a black tee to a shimmery, fishnet tank top and had added a leather collar that buckled at the side of his neck. The black of the band stood out against his chalky white skin. My gaze shifted away from him as Nagi came through the door levitating a tray of snacks and three glasses of milk. He had returned just in time for the show to actually start.

The dark-haired boy stooped down beside Farfarello, directly under my position, retrieved a tray stand and erected it near enough that I could reach it from the bed, before settling the goodies on it. He handed me a small, sticky square that was oozing chocolate and white cream from all four sides. The sugary sludge was just a shade over lukewarm when I gave it an experimental lick to keep it from slithering onto the pale comforter. The taste was a mixture of bitter dark chocolate tang and the mellow sweetness of near liquefied marshmallow. The shift in weight on the mattress called my attention away from the treat that had so enraptured me. Nagi was sprawled gamely beside me, mirroring my posture. His gaze was riveted on the screen as he used his tongue and lips in an interesting display of dexterity to capture the thin tendrils that trailed from the s'more after each small bite. It made heat begin to glow in the pit of my stomach and snake its way down to pool low in my pelvis. The sudden surge of warmth made my skin flush and my mind roil as fog began to crowd my usually unobscured, if confusing, surface thoughts. Schuldig had said he was good with him mouth. I flushed even harder at the thought.

After that, I couldn't stay focused on any one thing for long. My thoughts as well as my eyes roamed ceaselessly. The show was interesting, but too quickly forgotten as I looked from the flickering screen to the blue-faced Japanese youth beside me, finally down into the darkened floor.
I hadn't realized at first that the lights were off… no wonder Nagi looked blue, the only illumination in the room now was from the screen. My thoughts were getting muddy; I should have clued into that fact a long time ago. When had someone gotten up to switch the light off anyway? Oh, yeah, telekinesis, stupid! My head felt as though it were full of cotton, and my eyes were getting kind of heavy. But, I tried my best to stay alert and my what an alluring picture the kage warrior posed…

The blue cast from the monitor bathed the Irishman's skin in eerie shadows as the hue flickered and glinted across the fringe of silver hoops that lined his left ear from lobe to crest. The dance of light across the metal was fascinating. I missed my blades with a sudden intensity. Strange thought I know, but seeing the play of light across silver tugged at my heart and other things. My eyes drank the sight, his scarred, alabaster flesh showing beneath the tiny perforations of his shirt, the lean defined muscles of his shoulders, the silvery hue of his hair in the colored light, the line of his jaw and that smudge of chocolate defining the almost imperceptible scars across his bottom lip. Without thinking, I reached out to wipe the glistening stain away, and he actually jumped.

“Wha' the hell are ya duin'?” he hissed, twisting to look full into my face. His expression was unreadable in the ambiguous light.

“You have something… on your face.” Before he could move again, I closed the distance, the activity requiring more concentration than normal, and ran the pad of my right forefinger across the swell of his lips. The almost green iris widened at the contact, but narrowed again as I raised my finger to show him I hadn't been lying.

I was startled almost to falling when I felt my finger engulfed in a wet heat up to the first knuckle and the bruising pain of sharp, even teeth clamping down on the bone to secure its capture. I let out an involuntary gasp at the wash of sensations. A warm, slick glide of satin twirled around the throbbing digit, stopping to lave just ahead of the unrelenting pressure of remorseless fangs. I forgot to breath, my eyes fell shut…

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++

The little crease between her eyebrows, the way her teeth worry the flesh of her bottom lip, the tight shuttering of her eyelids; her body responds, her heart is torn and her mind balks. Interesting, Nagi concluded as he took a last sip of milk before sending his glass to the tray with a gesture.

He sidled his still recumbent form closer to the girl and stroked her raven hair, brushing back a strand that had somehow worked its way into her eyelashes. Farfarello seems to be enjoying himself, he smiled at that. How often was it that his friend was looked upon by outsiders with anything other than apprehension or outright horror? The girl seemed genuinely fascinated with the madman-- so much more convenient for him and his accomplice he supposed. Farfarello was staring up at him, the girl's finger still in the torturous grip of flesh and bone. The medication had done wonders for both the girl and the Irish and given Nagi the opportunity to film a new fantasy to add to his growing collection of Schwarz headliners.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++

The girl's soft sigh gusted out into the room as the white haired youth laved roughly at the digit, chocolate stain long-since devoured. He was distracted by Nagi's intense, lust-filled gaze and wondered vaguely how the girl would react were he to reposition her finger farther back into his mouth, force it to rest on his file-enhanced teeth. He could drive one of those self-made fangs through the spicy flesh, easily severe through the bone with a few more pounds of pressure…

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++

I had to distance myself from that feeling; it was making my head float as though it were no longer anchored to my body. I could feel my skin scathing with the heat of my … loathe to admit it, but arousal. The aching pinch of sensitized flesh, the throb of sudden circulation as his teeth shifted slightly, the now near brutal flogging of his tongue were a kaleidoscope of pain and oddly enough a degenerate pleasure.

Finally, the sensation changed to a strong suction that was slowly being withdrawn. I opened my eyes to find that even though withdrawing his hold on my finger, Farfarello had pushed himself onto his knees to peer up into my face with hooded eye. His fingers were wrapped around my wrist as he guided my hand away from his mouth. The voice that misted chocolate-perfumed breath over my lips and chin rasped, “Got it?”

I couldn't find my voice, so I nodded in reply. A strange smile played across his face only seconds before he lunged. His lips were surprisingly soft even though the scraping of teeth that followed was anything but tender. I could taste my own blood as he worked my lips apart with insistent nips and probing thrusts of his serpentine tongue. The aggression behind his assault was no doubt pay back for making him angry this afternoon. My brain was trying to process the fact that my mouth was being raped but the indifference of my baser instincts and a sluggishness that could very well be one hell of an on-coming cold squashed the message in transit. The only thing I could do was defend myself-- meet him blow for blow as I would in any other confrontation. I closed my eyes and threw myself enthusiastically into the fray.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++

Nagi had been concerned that the girl would be frightened by Farfarello's manic intensity, but she seemed to weather the maelstrom readily enough. He caught sight of the confusion and alarm in his teammate's eye before he realized the girl was returning the assault with fumbling determination. Sending out an unseen hand, the boy stroked the faltering Irishman's cheek and offered him a sultry smirk before motioning up with a quick jerk of his chin.

Seeming to catch his meaning, Farf began easing his way up from the floor, placing his free hand on the ravishing angel's shoulder, wrist still firmly in opposite palm and drew her along with him. When he was finally standing, without so much as easing his assault, Nagi used his telekinesis to reposition the enrapt girl from her knees to seated. Farfarello maneuvered with catlike grace to keep from relinquishing his grip on the no doubt kiss-bruised lips and crawl to kneel inches above her knees. The Japanese boy's smirk intensified as he slid behind the dueling doll and molded his body against hers.

The heat of her enjoyment was radiating in tingling waves across her still veiled flesh and the sensation caused the teen to stifle a moan as the growing protuberance hummed with the prickling of energy against the small of her lower back. She was pliant, small body reclined against him, head grinding into the juncture of his neck and shoulder with the force of his teammate's oral coup. He kept his arms draped loosely about her waist. Content to play the close-range voyeur for the time being.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++

The incubus has come to my rescue in the heat of battle, the Berserker's mind mused as he consumed the metallic tang of blood and bitter sweet remnants of chocolate that flavored her tongue. Best to reward him…

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++

I was unprepared for the sudden cessation of lustful blows or the sharp nip to my bottom lip that brought a trembling drop of crimson to the surface of the brutalized flesh. I wrenched my eyes open with an effort. Farfarello's gaze was disturbingly calm as I felt his hand leave my shoulder and take possession of my chin with hard, soothing fingers that extended to lie benignly along the length of my cheek and jaw. My head was turned slowly on the cushion that I only then realized was Nagi's shoulder.

He was cradling me against him, looking down into my now redirected gaze. His lips encompassed my entire field of vision as I watched them form words, “May I kiss you?” It was a needless question, but I nodded obediently. His lips closed over mine in that warm, chaste press of the previous night. So very different from the savagery I had been party to not moments ago. As the kiss deepened with the first tentative swipe of his tongue against my bloodied gate, I felt the initial stirrings of panic. The kiss was a leisurely exploration that gave me too much time to muster what remained of my quickly diminishing mental faculties. I was so exhausted, stretched thin between the wanton passion stirred by the Irish and the consternation brought on by the placid ministrations of his partner in seduction. My head was beginning to throb and my vision, when I tried to focus, blurred and swung uncontrollably. I was drugged…I tried to push the realization away, but it just wouldn't retreat. I should have felt betrayed, should have been furious. But, I was allowing them to do this to me. No matter what help I had in silencing my demons and forestalling my inhibitions, accepting them was still my decision. They have no true power over me unless I let them.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++

Farfarello felt the girl tense and for the first time registered the humming pulse of her aura and the overwhelming heat of her skin. She was the human equivalent of a live wire, no doubt her blood was writhing with pent up energy. Headless of the veiled threat that her body was posing, he kept his hands on her, one still wrapped securely around her thin wrist, the other loosely clamped across her lower jaw and cheek. He enjoyed the sensation of rippling waves that flowed over his fingers and down his body. Besides, Nagi had secured his hand there; placing one of his own over Farfarello's to help bind and soothe the girl. The younger boy was stroking the soft bans of skin exposed between the Irishman's splayed fingers as well as the restraints themselves, sending shocks of his own magnetism coursing through the human shackle.
Nagi always knew how to make him feel essential. The sudden spiking in the amperes of the girl's aura was enough to make him pinch the nerves in her wrist as he forcefully broke the kiss between the two younger teens. It wouldn't do to have the boy sustain a direct strike to the brain should she elude the leeching drag of the downers. Had it been anyone but Nagi, the sight may have proved entertaining.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++

My lungs were screaming for air when the hateful wrench of my chin freed me. I gasped and fought back the tears that were trying to form out of the hazy chaos of my awareness. I wanted this, didn't I? I wanted to give up control for a while, didn't I?

“Stop,” the word was barley above a whisper, almost lost in the low growl that Farfarello snarled into my face, only centimeters from my quivering lips. I felt Nagi tense behind me, arms wrapping more securely around my waist as the other boy made a lightening fast grab for my left wrist. The release on the clasp was surprisingly easy to strike; the needle-thin blade sprang from the band and stabbed through the muscle and bone of Farfarello's palm. It made my heart hurt to hear the wet sucking of greedy flesh, to feel him force the blade through his own hand to crush the metal circlet into the knobby bones that formed my wrist. His grip was so strong; the bracelet was bending under the pressure of his fingers. I stared into his face, struggling to make sense of the wavering image and for the first time since I have known him, I am truly afraid of the indefinable darkness I see whirling in the pit of that amber pool.

I felt myself being jerked from Nagi's embrace, only to be slammed onto the floor a moment later. I fought the sudden brightness of stars erupting across my already fading field of vision as an oppressive weight blanketed me. I cried out as I felt the sharp bite of fangs at the meeting of neck and shoulder and suppressed a shudder as the ripping of skin sent the scalding trickle of blood seeping into the black fabric of my fishnet undershirt. His words from our second violent encounter mucked their way back through the blackening fog.Are any of us truly the masters of our fate? Do ya have any control at all over what is done here this moment? I had to believe I did.

I didn't bother to mask my fear, but fought desperately to silence the sob that would otherwise accompany my plea, “Please….. Stop.” The attack on my shoulder abated, only to be replaced by the wrenching of my arms. Both wrists were being forced above my head into one, blood- drenched manacle. My attacker hadn't even bothered to unpin himself from the band-blade, just used it to help keep hold of me. He's not going to stop, I realized sadly.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++

Nagi was thoroughly confused. Things had been going perfectly well until Farfarello had decided to flip out and rip the girl's focus away from him. The medication must be wearing off, his healing factor plays hell with that stuff, the enrapt voyeur smirked. He hadn't intended the experience to be decidedly unpleasant, just a little game of wills. Seems that the resident madman was changing the rules a bit.

Their pawn was still visibly under the influence of the drug, but she was scrabbling for purchase under the wrath of her assailant. Too bad for her Farf's a masochist or that little stunt with the blade might just have cooled him off a bit. She was trying so desperately to evade the scarred mouth and gnashing teeth as his teammate settled his weight over her. The raw timbre of her terrified plea was enough to make him feel unexpectedly ill. He himself had cried and pleaded his first go round and the two men had been much gentler than the sadistic Irish was now. However, the girl had yet to dissolve into wailing, slavering hysteria. She still seemed remarkably self-possesed.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++

Are you crying yet, God? Farfarello lapped eagerly at the unstaunched dribble of acrid salt that leaked from the angry punctures, as he drew in her scent. Lavender, strawberries, strengthening reek of fear infused pheromones-- so, the allure of pain or perhaps terror was something they seemed to share. Her strangled pleas were not falling on deaf ears; the agony in her tone was enflaming. All the while, the tension in her aura had been rising, sending off sporadic surges of low amperes. Some were enough to jolt a growl from low in his throat as he nipped his way up her neck and latched onto her earlobe, worrying it with his front teeth.

He would defile God's temple and leave it a ruin.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++++++

Do I deserve this? The question ghosted across my mind as sharp incisors raked my throat. My body was automatically reacting to the threat, charging itself. I could feel the intensifying fervor of the amperes marching along my veins, pounding against the walls of my heart. Could I bring myself to kill him if it came to that?

The thought tightened my throat and made my eyes sting. I imagined what it might be like to feel his body still and know that the gleam was forever gone from his eye. The idea was enough to thrust the tears over the brim and send them cascading down my cheeks, leaving wet stains across the broiling surface. “I'm sorry,” my voice was almost indistinguishable from the punctuated stillness.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++

The first brush of moisture across the life-stained cushion of his lip brought on the urge to cackle. The second made him want to pierce the lobe with fang, and the third made him dig sharp nails into the trembling contours of her stomach. The exhalation that served as a voice stopped him dead. Sorry? What the hell did she have to be sorry for?

He had never had a victim apologize to him, not even the supposedly all forgiving church clerics he sometimes amused himself with. He raised his head to stare down into her face as if she were the lunatic and wished he hadn't.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++

Nagi watched as Farfarello stilled himself over her. She was absolutely immobile, except for the crystalline tears that ran in glittering tracts down her struggle-flushed face. Every muscle in the Irishman's back had rippled to life at whatever had just taken place. A secret kept by distance and the two prone forms under his disconcerted gaze.

“I… I… can't let you do this. Please, don't make me hurt you,” her voice cracked on the last word.

An expression of pain etched itself into the lines of the Irishman's brow and around his eyes and mouth. His gaze never wavered from her crumbling face.

Nagi knew in that moment that Farf would never be the same; the guy finally had lost his mind. Knowing that the man had never let anyone go willingly, the Japanese teen used his power to pry the stunned tormentor from the disheveled angel. The man made no protest, not even as the girl rolled to her knees and crawled to the door, leaving a winding trail of crimson tears on vanilla-toned flooring.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++

I still couldn't see well; whatever they had given me was making my vision unreliable. The distorted perception of his face had been set in lines and angles that resembled pain, but I bet it's just that my head's screwed. I heaved myself to my knees and crawled in a falling, pell-mell line to the door. When I finally bumped into the jamb with my shoulder, I decided I would climb up the support and put as much distance between myself and this fiasco as I could. Although he took his sweet time, Nagi saved both of us in the end. I don't know how much longer I could have kept my powers at bay if Farfarello had continued to pose a threat.

I wove my way down the corridor in what I am sure any outsider would have pegged as a drunken stupor. I banged into the wall repeatedly and walked face first into my bedroom door before I registered the distantly painful fact that it was shut. On my fifth or was it ninth grab for the spinning knob, I finally got the door shoved open, waddled across the threshold on fumbling feet and leaned the door closed.

Ummm…lock…tonight. I turned my full attention to the impossibly small key and worked a goodly time in getting it secured. At what moment during that time, my brain finally clued into the fact that there was a flickering orange glow flittering around on my door and my nose reminded my throat to gag on the overpowering cloy of orchids and lilies I couldn't even venture a guess. Where the hell had all this stuff come from?

::Look what the kids drug in:: came right one the heels of one strong arm snaking around my waist and nimble fingers snatching a handful of hair before the floor disappeared from under my feet.

I'm goin'… sick, I slurred inside my own head moments before I was slammed over a hard surface. The healing bruise on my cheek throbbed back into life as I felt the weight of a larger body pinning me in place.

“St…op…” I was overloading, my body was on fire and breath was in short supply under the smoldering wave of heat. The power that had begun to rise during my foray with the boys had not dissipated in the time it had taken me to stagger to the supposed safety of my room. The refraction of light off the surface of something made me start to recede into the frigidity of the abyss. The German was about to die a very horrible death if he didn't let go soon. “Please…St…op… now!”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++

“Farfarello, are you alright?” the boy had not moved since Nagi's power had embraced him, trying to keep regret at bay.

“Aye…” the whispered reply rasped from the catatonic statue. And neigh, he finished in his own mind as he felt the other boy's invisible arms fade away to be replaced by the genuine article.

The tears on her face had been nothing like the ones he had fantasized about. They were not selfish, despondent lies but something honest, deadly. The clear gems had ardently promised an end and mourned it in the same instant. Would she truly have been powerful enough to kill him? Would she weep for him afterwards?

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++

The insurmountable crash of the tsunami exploded outward from my writhing veins, and I wondered if the red-head would survive. I screamed, as the memories pulled me under. I was abruptly lost to the lowest hellscape of my subconscious, where the biting winds of Caina devour the spectral flesh of my past sins.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++

It was nine o'clock and the city was thrumming with life and light, the vision hit Crawford as he pulled out into the blaring night traffic of Tokyo. I hateitwhen it happenswhile driving, he groused as the images poured over him in a rabid stream. There and then gone. All was not well on the home front.

He slammed on the brakes even though the light in front of him was still green and was rewarded with the screeching of brakes, honking of horns and the sudden darkness he had foreseen. The sleeper had awakened.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++

The throttled shriek and feminine roar had brought the two boys up from the floor and out the door. Nagi was alerted to the surge of power as he heard one of his computers practically explode in their wake. He slammed shoulder first into the girl's bedroom door and was nearly crushed under Farfarello's added weight. Shoving his friend back with unseen fingers, he distanced himself from the wooden barrier, gripped it with a murder of ghostly hands and wrenched it from its hinges, accompanied by a rousting chorus of splintering timber. Please let them be all right… damn Schuldig! Barrier finally removed, both boys barreled into the room. Farfarello skirted the standing girl and made a dive for the limp body.

It was strange to see the sultry smirk twisting her lips as she stalked toward him, hips swaying seductively, skin lighted by an unnatural inner glow. The sight of Schuldig's body still as a corpse some feet behind her caused Nagi to evade the outstretched fingertips that stroked the air mere millimeters from his face. The voice that spoke was husky, sensual, “You desired her body a moment ago; now you're not so sure are you?”

“Hikari-chan?” The figure pressed forward as the boy took a tentative step in retreat.

“Yes,” answered a voice a little less sensual and then the tone dropped an octave before continuing, “And No.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++

Farfarello was disgusted to see the red-head sprawled across scattered ashes of cremated flowers, Kodachi sword still firmly in hand, white suit charred a bit around the edges. His breathing was shallow, but steady and the flesh of his chest was an enraged pink, covered by a layer of swelling blisters. The Irish gave a snort and turned from the bad to the ugly.

The girl had completely lost her mind, like she was altogether a different person. She had pinned the blue-eyed boy against the wall and was talking to him in a hissing whisper punctuated by languid swipes of her little pink tongue but otherwise did not touch him. He couldn't tell if Nagi was enrapt or terrified. His money was a healthy mix of both.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++

“What the hell? Hey, what is going on here, Hikari-chan?”

The girl before him laughed as his back slammed against the wall. She placed a forearm on either side of his face before insinuating her slender, supple frame against his.

“Hikari…. Stop!”

The throaty chuckle was accompanied by the fluttering of curtaining lashes and the swipe of a warm, slick tongue across the underside of his bottom lip.

He groaned inwardly, why did she have to loose her mind to respond like this? “Stop it now! What the hell do you think you're doing?”

“She. Cannot. Hear. You.” Each word was punctuated with a rock of sharply boned hips against his pelvis. “Her mind is a million miles away… I think she might have taken your friend with her. She redirected at the last minute or he might have ended up like that child-killer Awikuda…”

“What?” it was getting hard to concentrate with the weight of her body burrowing into him, her breath gushing over his reheating flesh.

“She suffers under the press of guilt, rival to that of your bastard German who proclaims it so proudly. Betrayal weighs heaviest on the heart… breaks down the soul…”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++

The muted whimper that the kid let out was enough to send the lunatic into action. He crossed the space in a few strides and clamped his hand over the still oozing mark he had placed on the girl's shoulder. Securing the opposite wrist, he spun her around, momentarily blinded by the thick whip of hair that swung past his eye and slammed her with bone jarring force against the wall. She laughed and her enflamed jaded gaze bore into his own, a short moment later the light faded from her eyes. The body slumped down the wall and dangled bonelessly in his hands.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++

::Who are you?:: my voice seemed to echo in the smudged haziness of this place.

:: Do you really not know?::

I stood facing the other at the rubble strewn gate of the lower realms of my personal hell, one that I only had fleeting, indistinct glimpses of in nightmares. The torii of memory had been blown open by the explosion of power. I had no sure idea the extent of the horror that lay in wait on the other side of the gate. Nor did I wish to know.

::You're my power, my guilt.::

::Very good…:: it cooed seductively as the white light moved closer to me, extending a hand to brush my cheek. The contact sent jarring tingles down my spine. ::But you have no clear understanding of what you've done to earn that guilt, do you?::

I was trembling now under that fount of energy. ::I don't want to know, all that matters is that I am guilty and I suffer for that every day.::

::We are all guilty in one way or another:: the thing replied. ::Isn't that right, Schuldig?::

At the mention of his name, he peeled himself away from shadows. ::Ja, but it is what we do with our guilt that can save or damn our souls.::

The being seemed to be displeased by the answer, the mist that had been curled languidly about my feet like a slumbering dragon began to stir as the crackling coo issued once more. ::To suffer in ignorance, to lock away those transgression is not penance enough to atone for what you have done and failed to do.::

I felt myself falling, plummeting away from the hurtful brightness. I struck upon a ledge and lay there, jumping only slightly as I felt the telepath's presence well to existence beside me. ::I can't tell you what you might see here, but I want your vow that it will never be spoken of.:: I shifted to face him and caught the glitter of his pale green eyes turned stone.

Before I could demand a binding promise, not that I am sure it would have held him anyway, the ledge crumbled beneath us. The descent was slower than when we had first gone over into the abyss, and the landing was much gentler as we were deposited in a familiar setting-- the barren garden of my family's private dwelling. The gruesome scene was bathed in the silvery wash of moonbeams. The house I had set fire to myself had long since deteriorated from the burnt husk that had been created by my grief, the Sakura orchard of my infancy stripped by the temperatures of mid-winter and the tranquil beauty of the Koi pond long since overwhelmed by hydrophilic weeds. The stench of spilled blood clogged my nose as the sound of a struggle accosted my ears.

The man at my side was forgotten as I moved forward cautiously afraid of what I might encounter. I should have been… bodies were strewn about as though the Sakura blossoms had still been dancing in their languid revolutions to the welcoming earth, lighting where ever it pleased them. Moving around the jagged obstruction of the stagnant pool, I was arrested in my journey by the sight of man, his powerful body restraining a writing form. A sword lay near by not far from the struggling child's captured hands; she couldn't be more than thirteen or fourteen, covered in blood and gore, hissing angrily beneath her assailant.

My breath hitched in my throat as the girl's head was forced back, the scrunched eyes flying open… the girl was me. This had happened to me and I hadn't been able to remembered.

The panted words that reach my ears as the beastly man kept raining blows down on my past-self stilled the beating of my heart. “The half breed died wailing for her sissy to save her. You really should thank me. I cleared the way for you- the Teniawai's killing doll…” Each word punctuated by another solid crack as his fist pummeled me.

I hadn't been there when Miaka had needed me. I had run away in hopes of protecting her… and Calliou. I had seen what those men had done to them, touched their desecrated flesh with my own two hands and dies inside knowing I had let it happen.

The ground shook as an inhuman shriek ripped itself from my anguished doppelganger and the man atop her stiffened. Tears coursed down the bloodied face as the larger body shuddered viciously and began to smolder. The dormant trees caught light and the inanimate carcasses of the Genboku hit squad shivered and charred where they had fallen. The throttled hiss that issued after the cry sent shivers down my spine and kicked my pulse into high gear, “You will die screaming for what you did to them… for the creation of this thing that I am.”

The courtyard was engulfed in a blinding burst of energy as the man, Genboku head-assassin Awikuda Sanoske, was ripped to shreds by demonic talons of unadulterated power. The convulsions were redolent with wailing shrieks as the life-essence ignited into flame, the flesh began to darken and crack. The girl's head jerked aside when the eyes finally popped under the increasing temperature.

Tears were streaking down my own face as I crumbled to my knees, watching the quavering, sadistically-satisfied smirk twist the lips of my past visage. What had I become?

The spill over of my power made their corpses dance and cooling blood boil among the flaming grove of Sakura bones. “Who is the puppet now?” the still smirking girl breathed into the charred, desecrated face of her life's destroyer.

::Wir sindalle Puppen. Wer zieht unsere schnure?::

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++

“I pulled the strings… and cast my innocence into the abyss,” the girl's voice came out in a choked whisper of hesitant German.

The injured telepath, who had woken up five minutes ago, was perched on the edge of the girl's bed, watching the tears course from her tightly shuttered eyelids. He had seen it all and was thanking the God he did not believe in that she had seen fit to spare him from becoming another crispy abomination.

“What did she say?” Nagi asked, drawing tentatively closer to the bed. She had really freaked him out earlier. She may very well have eaten him if his guardian demon hadn't been close at hand.

“She has never been innocent. And now she never can be.” The idea was absurd to Schuldig's way of thinking since there were no true innocents, just some people were better pretenders than others. The red-head swept a pale finger across one cheek and captured a stray tear before it could loose itself in the sable forest of her hair. He peered at it whimsically, before flipping it away. Tears were wasted on the wicked.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ ++++

Crawford arrived home at one o'clock Tuesday morning to a silent house. It had taken hours to get the power back on in downtown and he sure as hell wasn't walking all the way home, no matter what kind of trouble the German had instigated. Pressing in the lock sequence at the inner threshold, Crawford toed off his shoes and made his way into the kitchen. He slid his briefcase onto the counter and headed for the girl's room, the setting of his last vision.

When he finally made the door, he saw the candles scattered about the room were nearly burned down to stubs and ashes were ground into the carpet at the foot of the bed. The bane of his existence was curled in on himself on the far side of the girl's sleeping form. Nagi was snoring softly at the desk, head cradled on his folded arms. A noise behind him made the twenty-seven year old step farther into the room to allow Farfarello clear passage. “What the hell happened?” He had not bothered to look at the scarred man to his left, just concentrated on the slumbering occupants of the chamber.

“She nearly killed the cocky bastard,” the Irish was stoic as usual, voice a low rasping hiss.

“Pity her mistake,” Crawford smirked as he took a few steps closer to the bed. He was annoyed that the other men had not yet reacted to his presence. He would have to remedy the situation by attacking them unexpectedly in their sleep during the next few weeks.

“It was no mistake. She had enough amperes behind that blow to knock out the power in the entire house…”

The power outage downtown could have simply been a coincidence, Crawford mused.

“The fool brought it on himself,” Farfarello continued without sympathy.

“What is that?” Crawford strode over to the desk and barley avoided being sucker punched by the startled boy as he shot from his repose.

Swatting the teen on the back of the head, he scooped up the items in question and riveted the Japanese youth to the spot with a steely grimace.

“What the hell are these doing in here?” He thrust the naked blades dangerously close to the boy's face.

“We decided to give them back to her,” he answered in a sleep-graveled tone as he leaned away from the cold smile of the steel.

“I never gave you orders to do such a thing,” the American growled as he slammed the bugnuks and sword onto the desk and stalked over to the still reclined German. He grabbed him by the hair as the green eyes leapt open to regard him petulantly, before sliding shut again. With a growl, Crawford jerked the man from the bed by his shaggy mop and swung him against the wall. “And you, who said you, enter my office?”

“When have I ever asked your permission to do anything?” the sneering lilt retorted. The girl slept on undisturbed. Truth be told, Schuldig had sent her into a dreamless trance that would keep the memories at bay, no need to break her completely. “Besides, I was following orders in my own way. That thing is untangled, now all we have to do is find a way to pull her strings.”

The aggressor let his target's hair run through his fingers as he stepped away, straightening his tie in an absent gesture.

“Hikari-chan wasn't trying to kill us,” Nagi stated firmly as the gaijin came over to the desk to run his fingers over the well-kept weapons. “And even if she were, she wouldn't need these, Crawford-san.” He nodded toward the pile of leather and metal.

“Besides, I would much rather take my chances with the blades than be turned into crispy critter, thank you all the same.”

The man actually smiled ruefully down at his youngest subordinate. “I suppose you have a point, Nagi-kun.” Without another word the Schwarz leader quit the room with only a nod to Farfarello to keep watch over the other
three.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++

“Yes, it has surfaced,” Crawford answered flatly as the female elder on the other end posed the question. Eszet had believed that the brunt of the girl's powers would remain dormant for much longer, but the hedonistic antics of the three sadistic stooges had brought whatever barrier that kept the thing walled in crashing down around the child's ears. “From the condition of things, Schuldig was the intended target… No, he sustained minimal damage… Farfarello assures me it was no accident; she intentionally redirected…”

He unbuttoned his suit jacket with one hand and shrugged it off as he listened to the droning voice vibrating in his ear. “The girl is sleeping. Whatever memory triggered the release has been restrained for now.” The seer pushed his glasses atop his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. It had been a long, tedious day and this conversation was keeping him from the comfort of his bed. “I will keep a close eye on her... Schuldig is already searching for possible means of manipulation. No, there is no need to send anyone else…. We have the situation under control…. I understand.”

Could his team handle her? What kind of question was that? Schwarz had sent established governments to their knees in a matter of days, set up petty dictatorships and subjugated the minds of entire populations in the name of their cause, surely they could handle the re-education of one little girl. However…The generator outside the house had been in pieces and the electronic security system was fried. Eszet would have to send an engineering squad to correct the damage to the hi-tech equipment.

::She really has come far in so short a time.::

He must be tired if he hadn't sensed Schuldig slipping behind his shields until now. ::She still has a long way to go…::

:: Not so far as you think.::

::Explain.:: the mental tone was Brad's usual flat command. So cold and businesslike.

::The sleeper really did awaken and seize control… But unlike at the range, the girl was able to temper its actions with her own …emotions.::

::What did you learn from the whole experience?::

::It killed with such passion and bloodlust, I believe Farfarello's God cried along side the lamb when she was shown her sins.::