Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Even Demons can love ❯ Enter Farfarello ( Chapter 1 )

Chapter 1

 

I remember the first time that I saw him.

 

Appearing in front of me, in a flurry of fire.

 

Flying into my sanctum, my cage, attacking even as he smiled.

 

Everyone claims I'm insane, hell I'll even admit it, but that was the first time that I had ever had someone else's voices in my head.

 

Hundreds of them, covering my mind in a fog so thick I couldn't find myself at all.

 

Desperately I fought them off, trying to distance myself, to fall into my own red haze, into the place I go when people get hurt.

 

That place reserved for me and all my desirous dreams, that aren't quite really mine. The dreams that sometimes even scare me.

 

There, I did it! I pushed the voices away, violently thrashing out at them, my own red haze completely taking over.

 

Sprawled across the floor, the flurry of fire now distinguishable as a man, stared up at me in amazement, grabbing at his head.

 

Then I heard laughter, intense and cruel.

 

“See Schuldich, that's why you shouldn't attack crazy Irish men, even if you do want to show off.”

 

I turned my head to see another man walking into my cell.

 

This one was an American, ebony hair, glasses and dressed in an impeccable suit.

 

As he entered, he kicked the man, now known as Schuldich, out of his way, almost casually, as if the man had no meaning to him.

 

Maybe he didn't. This man stopped inches away from me and started speaking. I paid him no attention.

 

He had nothing to tell me that I cared to know. I'm insane after all; I don't have to listen to people wasting their time and mine, trying to make sense to me.

 

Instead I focused on the man now attempting to sit up, wincing and holding his ribs.

 

The American stopped speaking once he realized that I wasn't paying any attention to him.

 

Then it was all I could do to keep from laughing as I watched him trying to control his tempter at being ecnored.

 

Obviously he thought that he had something important to say, but I could really care less.

 

I continued to watch the man on the floor.

 

He was beautiful, now that I got to get a long look at him.

 

The fire that I had seen around him was actually hair.

 

A bright flare of red, curling down to end at his waist, held back by a yellow bandana that was falling down over his face, and under the bandana, the most amazing emerald eyes that I had ever seen.

 

I wanted him.

 

People think that since I'm insane I don't feel, need or lust.

 

That is not true. Right there watching this man I felt, I needed, and god how I lusted.

 

Then I wanted nothing more but to take this beautiful man, bury myself inside him and make him mine.

 

I bet he is a screamer, a yeller. His orgasm must be amazing. I want to see it for myself.

 

The American finally seemed to realize the reason behind why I wasn't listening to him.

 

He walked over to the man, Schuldich, and yanked him up by his hair. I saw Schuldich wince but he said nothing.

 

The American backhanded him and then they seemed to carry on some sort of silent argument.

 

After a quick battle of wills, he won out and the beautiful red head nodded and left my cell with his head bowed down.

 

The American turned back to me and started talking again. Damn, doesn't this man ever shut up?

 

I obviously am not interested in anything he has to say, so I start playing with the straps on my straight jacket, oblivious to the man's continued talking.

 

Maybe he will go away soon… Then out of nowhere a hand grabs me up by my jacket and the man slams me against the wall making my teeth rattle. Guess he likes getting attention.

 

“Haven't you been listening to anything I have been saying since I got in here?” he yelled, continuing to slam me in the wall, over and over starting to drawing blood and making me see pretty black spots.

 

I just laughed.

 

“You can slam me into the wall all day long and I'm still not going to listen to you.” I said giggling.

 

“Why?” he asked genuinely curious, loosening his grip on me.

 

“Because I'm insane, I don't have to listen to you. It's not going to matter, it's not like you can hurt me anyway.” I replied promptly.

 

“Besides your boring.” I added, as an afterthought.

 

“Your not insane” he said, smiling at me in a way I didn't quite like.

 

“And I'm not boring.” This said with a slight frown.

 

“Oh yes I am, I kill, and I feel nothing and I will happily kill again if allowed to.

 

The only thing I'm good for is killing and being abused. I like it and it keeps the doctors happy. And yes, truly you are.”

 

“Really?” he asked amused. “You like your doctors?” I grudgingly nodded my head.

 

“I don't think you do. I think that you would love to kill them, mutilate them. Make them bleed.” An evil grin crossed his face as he looked at me.

Ok now he had my attention.

 

The American smiled, and slowly took his hand back, thus allowing me to slide down to sit on the ground, while taking my seat in the process.

 

“Well, now that I seem to finally have gotten your interest lets talk shall we?” I nodded my head slightly enthusiastic.

 

“First off my name is Crawford, I represent a company that is interested in hiring you.”

 

I couldn't control myself any more, I started to giggle.

 

“What company in their right mind would want to hire me? I would end up killing them all for fun before I even got my first paycheck. ”

 

“Ah”, he said, “that's were things get interesting, because I would love to see you be able to kill my employers.

 

I would hire you myself if I thought you could do that.” I just looked at him, cocking my eyebrow.

 

Interesting response. I was starting to warm up to him.

 

“You don't believe me? My employers are dangerous, they have powers such as you and I could only dream of.

 

Their talents make ours appear weak and unsubstantial in comparison.”

 

“Talents?” I asked, “I have no talents”.

 

“Really?” Crawford asked. “So how is it that you can stand excruciating amounts of pain and are not effected by it in the slightest besides for your blood curling laughter?”

 

“Err, good point, but that is hardly a talent.” I said skeptically. “More like a mentally disturbing ability.”

 

“Well that and the fact that you can kill almost anything that gets in your way.”

 

“You're a berserker, you will kill whatever you get your hands on, once you go into your haze, won't you, even you own family?” He looked at me expecting some sort of outburst but I didn't give it to him. Instead I just smiled at him.

 

“Your right, I will kill what ever I want to when I go under and my family deserved to die.

 

I feel no sorrow over their deaths. I made god cry that day and have been doing so ever since with no remorse.”

 

“Yes, and that is what brings me here to you today.

 

My employers have been following your movements for years since you killed your family, and have been interested in hiring you for quite awhile.”

 

“Hiring me to do what?” Now I was just damn curious.

 

“Assassination.” Crawford replied.

 

“Controlled Berserking, bloodletting.

 

If you come to work for them you would be paid to kill, mutilate, and be able to cause god daily intense pain.” I liked this proposition.

 

“Fine, but how will you get me out of this prison? I don't think my kindly doctors would like me to leave just yet.

 

They haven't finished all their loving tests on me yet.”

 

“Ah that can be easily accomplished.” God this man has a truly devious grin.

 

Suddenly I was standing, my straight jacket was on the floor and I was following Crawford out of my cell toward freedom and a new job.