Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ No Restraint ❯ Pain ( Prologue )

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

Disclaimer: We dun own it. Leave us alone or die.

Warnings: Yaoi, Angst, Darkfic, Violence, Language, Character Bastardization, Possible Squick

Notes: Unfortunately, Pickles disappeared before the notes stage, so I can run rampant!!! ^^;;; Err no. Anyways, I have nothing to say, so here!!

No Restraint

a collaboration

~Pain~

Ken hurriedly gathered his things, shoving them into a duffel. He was leaving. Tonight. Now. He couldn't risk them finding out, he couldn't chance what they would do. He had seen what they could do. They had made him do it... And he didn't like it. The killing he could handle, much as it disturbed him. But this... this was too much. He simply couldn't deal with it. They were... supposed to be the good guys, right? So why had they done that? Why had they... tortured that man?

The muffled noises of the other three members of Weiss filtered through the apartments, adding to Ken's haste. If they found out that he was leaving, he knew they'd make no qualms about killing him. No one got out of Weiss without a body bag. No one.And Ken could see it, he could see what they would do to him before they killed him. First, Aya would take one of those wicked knives, and... and... well, it didn't bear thinking about. He had to go, had to leave. As an after-thought their own apartments?

There. The sounds of Yohji's after-hours entertainment for the night as he or she cried out in pleasure. How could the man do it, bring home innocents night after night, use them, then discard them like so much trash? Despicable, that was the word for Weiß's eldest member. Barely above the level of half their targets, the organizers of prostitution rings.

Ken stayed away from thoughts of his teammates -- former teammates, he reminded himself firmly -- as he slipped down the stairs. He had liked them, had actually cared for them. He had found out today that they had actually been protecting him from what they already knew they had to do, because when it came down to it, he was the innocent one. Ken. Not Omi. He appreciated that protection now, but with the removal of it, he could no longer consider them to be human.

Persia was wrong. They were the dark beasts, not the white hunters that destroyed the corrupt who plagued the city. They were the ones that killed, that ruined lives. Not once had any of them stopped to think about whether any of their targets had families, families that may not have known about their crimes, and the latest mission had shown that.

~~~~

"Please! Have mercy!!" The man stared up at Weiß's impassive faces. Three of the four stared back, eyes full of loathing, with the fourth looked away, horrified by what was going on. This was no dark beast. This was simply a family man, caught up in affairs that he had no purpose in knowing about, someone falsely accused. His office was decorated with pictures of his family, a not quite beautiful, but loving wife, an effeminate son, and a daughter that would never be thin. An ordinary man, with an ordinary family.

"Mercy?" the coldest of the four, Aya, had scoffed. "Why should you be shown mercy? I never was, and I don't think you deserve it..." Out from under his trench coat he pulled an evil-looking blade, serrated and nearly a foot long. "I can make you talk, and if I can't, one of them can..." He jerked his head backwards towards the tall one, Yohji, and the one seemingly so bright and innocent, Omi. "Tell me what you know about the financing of this drug ring."

"Drug ring?! I don't know what you're talking about!" Ken could see it was the truth, he didn't know, didn't have a clue. But he was struck speechless by the macabre parody of it all. Weiss was supposed to protect the innocent, not hurt them.

"Tell me!" The knife flashed in the darkness and a line of crimson appeared on the man's face, running from below his eye to his ear. "Tell me, or this family of yours will suffer as well."

"I -- I don't know anything! Leave my family alone!" the man sobbed. Aya's ice-cold violet eyes narrowed, and he pulled up the man's hand, and began to saw in between his second and third finger. Ken held back a retch as the scent of blood and the sound of screams filled the air...

~~~~

The torturing had gone on for several hours, until the man was dead, the last drop of blood drained from his body. Ken had thrown up, several times, until there was no more in his stomach, and had started to leave, but Omi had restrained him, forced him to watch what Aya did. He lectured as Aya went about systematically killing the man, saying something about inquisition techniques, and the guilt trip idea. Omi... thought this was all just part of the job. Aya... Aya could care less. And Yohji -- Yohji was the worst. Ken had actually seen in his eyes a perverse pleasure at every new line of crimson on the man's body, every new scream he let out. It disgusted him. It sickened him. It frightened him to no end. He had to get out.

~~~~

Somehow, he made it past them all, including Omi who was up late at his computer. A fake excuse of going for a jog since he couldn't sleep-- Normally Ken hated lying, hated liars, but he ad been an assassin for too long to have any qualms about it anymore. It was necessary. He'd been forced to leave his bag behind however, with everything except the clothes he was wearing, his bugnuks, which were inside a pocket of his jacket as usual, and his wallet. He had been able to steal some money from the shop register however, so he could afford a motel room and food for a few nights. After that, who knew?

He just didn't care. The future, whatever it was, would find him. He knew that. All he was focused on right now was getting out. He couldn't take his motorcycle -- he had told Omi he was going for a jog -- and so he simply ran. He ran, and ran, and ran, not caring where he was going, until he couldn't run anymore. Tokyo was a big city. Surely he could lose them in it?

As he was soon to discover, it didn't matter. His eyes widened in shock, disbelief, and horror as a flash of fire-crimson hair appeared before his eyes, belonging to a tall, slender gaijin. No. No, not now. Surely Schwarz wouldn't... they couldn't... Not after today, after all he'd been through...

Mercifully, the telepathic slid into his mind and pushed the right buttons, and he passed out.

~~~~

"Well done." The words were stark, though the speaker never showed more emotion than he needed. Not even now, when his team mate had successfully captured the one of their opponents. Not to mention, the opponent with the powerful latent ability. He should be proud, but when was Bradley Crawford ever anything more than cold and calculating?

"Ach, you have no idea, Crawford. It was easy shit. The poor kitten had his first torture viewing today, and all he really desperately wanted was to be out of it. I gave it to him," Schuldich said easily. He lit his cigarette, and laid back on the couch, smoking indolently. "Nothing like a hard day's work that took no effort." Beside him, Farfarello smirked, looking over the unconscious form sprawled in a chair, bound hand and foot. It would be fun to watch the brunette suffer, make him cry for mercy. Would he call out to his God, giving the Irishman more reason punish him for his sins, and the sins of his God? He hoped so. It had been a while since he had last had satisfying prey.

Nagi contemplated the Weiß member silently. Former Weiß, he reminded himself silently. He would soon be Schwarz. They would make him so. Nagi could remember being in that situation, weak, a mere mortal, with no idea of what was happening to him other than his "client" had suddenly died back when he had been forced into whoring out. He knew what would happen, what they would force this man, this boy, really, to go through to tap his power. He would participate in it. The thought gave him no joy, but it would be so. Crawford, the all-powerful in this situation, had said it would. There was no point in trying to deny what would come. Still, he felt pity for the boy...

"Sympathizing, Nagi?" Schuldich's voice drew him from his thoughts. "Never penned you as one to sympathize. After all, your worse than Crawford some days." A disapproving noise from Brad didn't deter the telepath as he turned to look at Nagi fully. "So what's your verdict? Going to help, or do you need 'persuading'?" Nagi knew what he meant. Another session of pain and abuse as they used his body, while Schuldich raped his mind, forcing him into submission once more.

Nagi slammed his mental shields up quickly, causing the German to wince and making him want to smirk. "I never said I wouldn't help," Nagi countered quietly. "Besides... Crawford knows I'm going to help with no problems at all. Don't you, Crawford?"

The older man nodded, glasses sliding down his nose slightly. "I know," he said quietly. "Schuldich--" he glared at the redhead -- "simply likes to hurt you. But he knows the rules. He has to have a reason to punish you."

The words made no visible impact on Nagi, though inside he froze. Schuldich would find reasons to punish him, despite his behavior. Silently he shook it off. "Shouldn't he be waking soon?"

Schuldich shrugged. "Who cares," he muttered. "If he doesn't, I can force him to. After all, I'm the one that turned him off in the first place."

The redhead watched, bored, as Farfarello reached out slightly to pet the captive male in their midst like a dog. "He's one of God's innocents, he is," Farfarello whispered to himself. "Oh, God will hurt when we're done with him. Can I play with him first, Crawford?"

Coffee colored eyes snapped daggers at the Irishman before the annoyed anger subsided. "We'll see. No touching him before I give the word though, or you'll feel the kiss of not only your own knives but Schuldich's mind." The American could order the telepath around with ease, so long as he played Schuldich's games.

"Oh no, he'll ruin him," Schuldich said immediately, "don't let him, Brad. I want to have him first. Please?" He turned a pout upon the American, full lips looking kissable -- until Crawford forced himself into remembering that this was a man who would kill him as soon as be under his jurisdiction. No dalliances with this one, not in this lifetime. He had foreseen the consequences of such actions.

"If you want him, then you can have him first, I suppose," Crawford said, disgruntled. "But take care that you don't break him. It's pointless to have a broken psychic. They simply don't care, and don't utilize their gifts to the full extent. If you even come close to it, I'm putting you in Farferello's chains, and letting Nagi have a chance to get back at you." He saw the immediate visceral smile on the teen's face at the thought.

Schuldich made no reply, though he blanched slightly. Nagi made his hatred of the German quite obvious, and would gain both revenge and pleasure from causing the red head pain. "Fine. But I get to punish him the first time he slips up."

"I promise," Crawford stated. They all knew that to be a useless phrase. Promises were for easily bought, gullible people, like the one they had caught. Not for them. Schuldich had no guarantee to be able to hurt Nagi, or vice versa, until such a situation arose as the rules allowed it, and Crawford gave it his seal of approval.

"He's waking up," Nagi said quietly. And indeed, he was. Ken's head lolled to one side as he groaned his way into half-consciousness.

Steel flashed as Farfarello brought one of his knives to the fore. "Can I play if he decides to fight us?"

"No," Schuldich pleaded, "let me deal with it, I'm more than capable--"

"Nagi will deal with such a situation if it arises," Crawford said flatly. "He is best equipped to do it without taking damage. If, during Schuldich's 'play time,' he does so, it will be because he was seriously provoked. If such is the case, I get to play a little game of my own." A wicked smile in the direction of the German reassured everyone of Crawford's true dark nature.

The German shivered, half fearing that smile, then steeled himself. Bastard.

But of course, Mastermind. What else have you come to expect of me?

It didn't matter, as the captive Ken blearily opened his eyes -- and stared straight at Farfarello. "Holy shit!" he shouted, and tried to jump backwards, but found himself restrained. "Get that -- that thing away from me!"

"Thing?" Farfarello's expression was amused as he turned to look at Nagi. "Am I a thing?" At the teen's shake of his head, he grinned. "Didn't think so. I'll punish you for that later, kitten." A sadistic smirk tainted the madman's lips at the thought. "Do you believe in God, little kitten?"

Ken narrowed his eyes at the crazy Irishman, and stated his beliefs. "No," he said firmly. "I don't. I believe that we are random creations of the universe, and that darkness is inherent in our nature. We cannot be saved, by 'God' or any other. Now leave me alone."

"Aww, poor Farf, lost his little playmate." The German's nasal voice sneered, only to cut off abruptly as Farfarello lunged across Ken's body and several feet of floor at him, blades out.

"Care to volunteer, guilty one?" The madness burned in Farfarello's eye as he drew closer to Schuldich, only to be halted by Nagi's telekinesis, knife inches from the red-head's throat.

Nagi shot a look at Crawford, knowing that the man would foresee what he wanted to ask. Just force the Irishman's hand a little lower, perhaps to the collarbone or so, and let go, let him drive it in... At the shake of Crawford's head, Nagi pulled Farfarello back to his original spot. "Stop," he said quietly. "Or they'll make me get out your strait jacket. Much as I would love for you to kill him, you know Crawford won't let you."

Farfarello glared at Crawford, gaze promising endless pain before he resided, settling back. "Just watch what you say, Schuldich," he sneered the name, hatred lacing each syllable. "Or I'll catch you when Brad and Nagi aren't around. Ever wonder what color your heart is? I'll cut it out and show it to you before you die. Oh, and it'll be fun..."

"Enough of this," Crawford snapped. Everyone was immediately silent. Satisfied, he turned his attention to Ken. "You are here," he began to explain, "because you have extremely strong latent powers. The power of illusion, to be specific. We are going to help you tap them. After that..." he waved his hand around the room. "You become one of us. There are no choices. Are you clear on this?"

Ken's eyes widened before he began to pull against his bindings, testing their strength and finding no weakness. "Iie! Let me go!"

"Silly Hidaka..." Schuldich's smirk was pure venom. "Why would we want to do that, when we haven't even had a taste of you yet?"

Realizing the futility of the situation, Ken slumped against the chair he was bound to. "What does 'helping me realize my abilities' entail?" he asked flatly.

"Pain," Schuldich stated. "Lots of it. More than you can handle... In more ways than you can imagine. And I have first dibs on you." Then pain slammed into Ken's mind, tainted with the sense of laughing green eyes, dark humor, and malicious intent. Ken screamed, then it was over, and he sat panting in the chair, eyes half closed as the agony slowly faded away. "That was just a taste of what we can do. And you'll be getting more. No doubt of that."