Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Prayers of the Fallen ❯ Observation of Feeling ( Chapter 8 )

Chapter 8:

She had been staying with them for what was nearing two weeks now, and hadn't gone outside. Not as far as any of them knew. Farfarello being the only to see her outside that one night and never again since. She must be getting anxious.

She had been tested over the days she had spent with them. He had watched; if not in the open, from the shadows. She was quite the creature, made to be an instruement of death, an assassin like no other. She had been tested first on her abilities just as they were, to demonstrate what she was capable of alone. Then, she was set up against each of them seperately, matching her abilites to the others and himself, all except Crawford, who watched and observed the entire time.

Against Nagi, instructed only to use her telekinetic abilities, she was fierce. Even with the playing field evened out to accomidate the young boys one Gift, she had overcome him easily; having him pressed to a wall and the boy's ragged breathing due to the invisible hand at his throat. After Crawford had instructed so, she let the small telekinetic down to the floor gently, running quickly to his side in case he was injured. Such a strange quality in a weapon, to apologise to its victim, even if only in practice.

Next it was Schuldig, and again the girl, Eversor, had been limited to a single Gift, this time it being telepathy. Though hand to hand combat had ensued at first - both showing exceptional speed and endurance - the girl eventually won the war, bending Schuldig's seemingly unbreakable mind to her will. Schuldig always, always had a small pistol hidden somewhere on his person at all times, and in the end, he was on his knees pointing the small weapon to his own head. His eyes being the only indication that he was still there in his mind. So the Lady had control over the Devil. How amusing. But by the way the German swore after she let her hold of him go was something that would make God cringe in disgust. Farfarello had laughed at the thought of God cringing at the German's foul mouth. Quite a hilarious sight, really.

Now it was his turn. Brad was instructing Eversor not to use her psychic Gifts, but her combat knowledge. She was given a weapon; a twelth inch steel blade. He had his favorite needle-sharp dagger. His licked the blade, tasting the cold metal on his tongue. Maybe he would get to taste her on it soon. He looked into her eyes and watched as they turned cold and menacing. It seemed a mirror image of the look he prided himself on. The look that instilled fear in all save a few. Such tactics wouldn't work on him.

"Try not to break any bones, and don't kill eachother." Crawford spoke calmly from his seat at the wall. Nagi and Schuldig sitting on the floor next to his chair, both scowling, their pride having been beaten worse than their bodies.

"Go." Schwarz' leader said. Neither he nor the girl moved. Both standing ready for an attack but neither making the first move. Farfarello lost all patience and ran towards the girl, blade arm held up to attack, a loud roar of a battle cry echoing from his lips. Eversor didn't even flinch at the advancing madman, not until the last possible second. Just when all thought that the Irishman would certainly run her through with the dagger, she ducked out of the way. Luckily for Farfarello, he had been expecting an evassive move as that, and balled his fist and thrust backward, connecting with the back of the girls neck. She fell to the ground, though not knocked out, not even phased it seemed. She countered with a swift practiced swing of her leg and the Irishman was on his back. Quickly Eversor jumped on him, straddling his stomach, holding her blade to his throat. He not being one to give up easily raised his own weapon to stab her arm for a distraction, but no matter how fast he was, she was faster it seemed. Her hand flew out and grabbed it, the two fists struggling against each other for dominance, both seemingly equal. But somehow, she managed to wriggle the sharp dagger out of his grasp and throw it across the floor.

Farfarello glared at her as he bore his teeth. The fact that he had been bested was pain enough for him, the fact that it had been a girl younger than he, didn't even really factor in. It was the fact itself that angered him.

He felt the cold steel of the girls blade press further against his throat; no pain where there should have been, only the feeling that it was there. Then it was gone. She had lifted the blade away from his skin. This angered him even more. She was showing mercy? How sorry she was if she was a trained killer. But no, it wasn't mercy at all.

Farfarello watched in both frustration and mild fascination as the girl brought the blade to her finger and slowly drug it across the pale white skin. He noticed that her face never changed, still cold, but her eyes were holding something new. He looked back to the finger and watched as a thick rivelet of crimson blood emmerged and begin to drip. And then, the most curious and surprising of all, she took the injured finger and brought it to his lips.

What is this?, he thought, looking at her questioningly. And for the first time since they had begun, she smiled and whispered in his mind.

//You wanted to know how I tasted// She said simply.

Despite the obvious curiosity in his mind and most likely in his eye, Farfarello wasn't about to be bested. She was open. Quick as lightening, he forced his torso up off of the ground, grabbed the blade from the girls hand, and reached around with his free hand to pull on her long black hair. With her throat exposed, the large knife pressed to it he whispered.

"I will take it myself; I don't appreciate charity."

An angry, yet amused look flooded the girls features and Farfarello stared at her, grim satisfaction on his own. He heard a grown coming from her throat. He let the slightest smile spread across his lips. Then, he quickly lifted the blade and cut the girls cheek. She didn't wince, nor was she surprised; the anger on her face deepened. His smile grew broader as he jumped to his feet, backing away as he began to lap at the crimson fluid on the blade.

'Mmm, sweet', he thought at the girl, knowing she was listening. This time her growl of displeasure was audible to all in the training room.

Crawford looked as if he was about to say something when all the sudden a slight sound of a rushing breeze could be heard and the girl was gone. She had teleported out of the room. Disappeared all together.

"What the hell was *that* all about, Farf?" Schuldig questioned from the wall as he stood himself up. He still looked peturbed at his little bout with the girl, but unabashed curiousity was not showing clearly on his face, a slight trace of that ever present smirk coming back.

Farfarello just shrugged, staring at the three that were all standing now, looking at him with varying degrees of curiosity or amusement. He had either angered or scared off their charge, and they all wondered, or in Schuldig's case, demanded why and how. He starred at them all in scope with his one eye fixed in indifference. He didn't quite know himself what had just happened, only that he wasn't going to be beatten. He could feel Schuldig press throuhg his mind trying to find the answer; if indeed the madman had some sort of alterior motives. He wasn't about to ward him off, there was no point, but he kept the girl's secret locked away. He fancied that he had hid it in his insanity, somewhere that the redheaded German didn't dare to go for fear of being consumed by it.

He felt the telpath's mind pull away from his own, a bemused and flustered look contorting the mans features. Then Crawford's voice interrupted the silence.

"Schuldig, go find her." he said flatly. "And you best hope that she hasn't gotten out of the house." he added just as dryly, though his tensing jaw gave away his worry that the girl was loose.

I wonder what he would do if he knew she's been outside once already?, the Irishman thought to himself as Schuldig lef the training room on his retrieval errand.

"Nagi, take Farfarello back to his room." Crawford took his glasses off, cleaning them briefly before they were placed back on his face. His room, not his cell in the basement, his room. Interesting to say the least.

"Come on, Farfarello." Nagi said, moving a bit stiffly as he lead him out of the room. Farfarello assumed it was because of his interraction with the Lady in battle. She did seem quite powerful; able to kill any of them if she so chose. Yes, quite a complex creature she was. Able to kill, wanting to kill, but yet there was something that kept her at bay, no matter how fragile that something was. Was is morality? A lingering sense of humanity? And what was it that had turned her from Esset, making her run, making her come to them in particular for help? How strange indeed, but stranger still that they were helping her and that she was not yet dead.

Having been lost in his thoughts, Farfarello was slightly startled when he found Nagi pushing him down onto his bed. He reached for a knife that had already been confiscated by the boy.

"Calm down, Farf." he said levelly, trying to sooth him. "Just relax."

Now he was sitting on his bed, staring at but yet past the slim boy charged to take care of him for the time being. The slight amusement melted from the boys face and he shook his head in - what, pity maybe? How typical. The bleeding heart of the young; though a slight surprise coming from one who has killed on many occassions.

"Get some rest." he said as he left throught the heavy door and locked it. Farfarello could hear every bolt slide into place. But these now everyday sounds didn't register anymore. His full attention was on the girl. His thoughts centered around her. It disgusted him, it intrigued him, it puzzled him most of all. She was such an odd creature. He wanted to kill her for the threat she posed to them all - the same instinct that Crawford had - but at the same time he wanted to know her; to listen and to understand her.

He felt a tightness in his chest the more he thought on the subject. And the more he concentrated on the feeling in his chest, the larger it seemed to grow. What is this? he thought, for the feeling was so alien to him. What could this mean?

***

He had found her in 'her' room, sitting on the small bed therein. Her back was against the wall and one knee pulled up to her chest. She looked pensive, her eyes seeming to look through everything and having a far-off feel to them, and her finely arched eyebrows were knit together. Pensive, deep in thought; those were the words to describe her.

Schuldig closed the door quietly behind him and walked over to the bed, standing right in front of the still as stone figure thereon. He tried to invade the thoughts that, for the moment, had her full attention, but all was for naught. He couldn't, just as she had said he wouldn't. How strong she was. She had overcome Nagi and himself - he cringed at the memory of her mind bending his own. Her mind was immense, infinately stronger than his own, which was a shock in itself. He had been a puppet to her thoughts. Again, his body tensed and shook slightly at the memory of his hand searching for the hidden firearm, then its cold metal barrel being pressed to his temple with his own hand. He had been terrified, doubts running throuhg his mind that she had been sent to kill them, and this was how it was going to end. Then she had released him, and his mouth went on auto-pilot; strings of profanities falling like vomit from his lips, both out of anger and relief.

Now he looked upon the seemingly fragile girl who had caused his body to do such things. How amazing that someone so young could hold such power, and the fact that she wasn't born to these gifts was puzzling in a way. She commanded them like she was an ancient being, having had them from birth. If she had been against them, they wouldn't even stand a chance.

"I'm sorry."

A whisper he had barely heard with his ears, but it had been echoed in his mind. He looked down at the girl, looking into her eyes that slowing turned upwards to meet his questioning gaze. She continued.

"I'm sorry for what I did - to you, to Nagi - you've both been so nice to me. I didn't want to have to use my powers against you." she was whsipering this, like it was a dirty secret meant to be kept within the shadows. Her eyes seemed to tremble. Now he was beginning to understand how Fafarello kept calling her 'a strange creature' in his thoughts. She indeed was just that.

Schuldig sat down on the bed, scooting backwards to be right next to the girl, who kept staring forward.

"It's alright, Eve." he said, his pride suddenly forgotten, discarded in her pressence. "We only wanted to see how strong you were, and we accomplished that." he smirked at her when she turned her head to face him. The saddness seeming to lift a little.

"He's afraid of me."

"Who?" The girl stared straight into his eyes, then answered.

"Crawford." Schuldig gasped in shock, but all thoughts were halted when Eve continued. "You wouldn't know because he keeps it burried where he thinks no one will see it, but he doesn't realize that I can know everything if I so choose. And he's afraid of me. He's afraid that I will take his life and the lives of those he has come to know as his family - you three." She paused, averting her eyes more. "He cares for you all deeply, no matter how much weakness he sees in it. Quite noble really."

Schuldig just sat there; shellshocked and confused. The words having reached his mind but still not quite understanding. He let his head fall back against the wall, his body taking on the girls posture; carelessly relaxed, seemingly forgotten. Then his mind began to work. He had seen glimpses of the feeling that Eversor was referring to - that Bradley Crawford really cared about the Nagi, Farfarello and himself like family. But hearing this from her - an outsider - was such a shock to the system he could scarce take it in.

Suddenly the girls demenor changed. She jumped up off of the bed and looked Schuldig with a sly grin crossing her lips. Schuldig looked at her confused.

"But it doesn't matter, 'cuz I'm not going to kill any of you. And don't sit there thinking, it'll only make you depressed." At that, she leaned in towards him, grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet, though he stumbled. She tried to catch him, but at such a precarious angle, she only managed in letting both bodies fall to the carpeting.

The force of both Eve's strength and falling to the ground, Schuldig was knocked out of his confused state. He laughed, the first real laugh he had uttered in a long time, and that Eversor had ever heard. The laughter she had heard days before had been mocking and berrating, but this was true laughter. Before he knew it, bothe he and the girl were rought with silly, nonesensical, yet fulfilling laughter. Slowly, they calmed themselves, their faces and stomachs hurting from the effort, and began to untangle themselves from eachother.

Now, both were sitting on the floor, smiling broadly, small giggles escaping now and then. Then Schuldig's coniving mind thoughts of the days prior events and thought to ask something he couldn't discern from the Irishman.

"What is there between you and Farfie?"

The girls face froze up, if only briefly, but Schuldig had seen it. Interesting. Then she looked him right in the eye to answer.

"Nothing." her voice seeming indifferent, but her eyes relaying another, yet undifinable emotion.

"Ah, then why did you let up on him? You gave him room to attack. You don't seem the type to do such a thing."

Eversor sighed, looking from the floor to Schuldig and back again several times.

"I don't know. I could hear his thoughts, he wanted something, I wanted to give it to him, then -" she stoped . Her words having seemed strange, contemplative maybe. Then she smiled, innocence mixed with pure mischief. It made Schuldig smile.

"He intrigues me." she stated finally.

"Oh Lord," Schuldig groaned, his smile having faded into his trademark smirk. "The two of you deserve eachother."

Eve raised an inquisitive eyebrow, as if to say 'And what is that suppose to mean'. Schuldig just shook his head, the remnants of laughter bubbling up his throat and echoing in his mouth. "Why not ask him -" then, suddenlt stricken with words - seemingly random at the time - that he had stumbled upon in Farfarello's mind, he played with them and added, "- m'Lady."

Eve's eyes narrowed, but her mouth curled lopsidedly, and she mentally nudged him for his cheekiness. Schuldig then gazed upon her from behind his usual demeanor. She was quite the little beauty; her pale skin, her raven black hair, her bright eyes that were such a pale blue that they seemed unnatural. Put together with what he had observed of her actions thus far, he couldn't help but reiterate Farfarello's phrase: such a strange creature. Undeniable beautiful, but strange none the less.