Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Yes Master ❯ Chapter 4

Part 4

It's just after nine when I hear the front door close. I look up from watching television and realize Schuldig has finally left. I myself haven't moved once, save to get a soda or something. I return to flipping through the channels, setting the station on some B-list horror movie that's just started. The thing about these horrors is that most are ridiculous. Either the people doing them are rubbish actors or the plot is so irritating, it draws you away from the gore that is currently happening. My worse annoyance is females.

They have their place in everything sure, but it's how they're written. Unless they are the heroine of the show they either do the most stupid ass things ever or get themselves killed for fucking the bad guy, or waiting around for the bad guy to kill them. You don't need a lot of brains, but if there is a murderer, or monster, or something following you, you do NOT walk up a flight of stairs, or into an alley, cause how the fuck do you get out of the house when you're on the top floor? Or out of a usually one way alley? Hello! You have brains people, use them. And for one thing, if I see another idiot investigate a noise, which turns out to be a pack of zombies, a blood sucking vampire, or a crazy killer, self not included, it will be to soon.

Be fucking original!

If I wasn't so bored, and there was nothing else on but porn or sport I'd watch something else, but this will suit me for now. Turning my gaze back to the television I figure out first glance it's a zombie film, and bright red blood like paint isn't convincing and if I see another vampire with slicked back hair, red eyes and the come hither look, I'll cut my other eye out.

Anyway, it's relatively peaceful and for once, mainly because I'm not being irritated. Schu's out, so he can't piss me off and get me in trouble. Nagi's in his room on the pretense of homework. Looking up porn is probably closer; he's at that age now. Sighing a bit I clasp my hands over my chest, I think I'll wait just a little longer and then go see Crawford. Another smirk forms on my face as I waste away the time, waiting for the opportunity to seize the day and all that shit.

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I let maybe an hour go past and finally fed up of the horror I'm watching I decide that the time is right. As I make my way towards Crawford's office I wonder if his visions have started working, and he's waiting with a gun to blow my brains out. I'm glad the floorboards don't squeak and as I draw closer I pull my knife from its sheath and finally press my hand to the doorknob. I hold my breath and turn it, the door thankfully opens silently with the softest gush of air showing it's passing. You could be the stealthiest person in the world but no way can you stop a door from squeaking and giving you away. I have to be glad that Crawford's so precise in his daily dealings and over usage of his room to keep everything in pristine order. No squeaks, no rust…works for me.

I push the door open just enough so I can slip in, now I see the inside of his office I worry that he may notice my reflection in the computer screen. It's not turned on which could make me more noticeable in the black screen, but as I draw closer he makes no notion of seeing me, even when I'm stood behind him. I realize he's reading the paper… well, was, would be closer. At the moment his glasses are on the table and the paper is poised on his chest, one hand rubbing the bridge of his nose. I wonder if he just had a vision, he seems to do that a lot when he gets them but maybe it's eye strain, he doesn't appear to be worried or going for his gun and so far I smell no fear. I move back just a little for what I'm about to do.

Bringing the knife to my mouth, I lick across the sharp side before clutching it between my teeth. I take in a breath and inch closer just a little, but leave enough space for contact. Placing my hands on either side of his chair I hear his startled gasp before I spin the chair round so he finally faces me. His eyes have shot open and he wears a startled expression, fear seeps into him as he takes in my appearance, knife in my mouth and a sadistic gleam in my eye.

"Farf…"

I cut off his shout by yanking him up by the hair sharply and pull him close, my fingers curling into his dark locks. Nose to nose he stares at me, to shocked that I would do this before I slam him into the wall. He screeches a little as he gets crushed, my body pressing him tight and finally he struggles against me, only then, I take my knife from my mouth, yank his head back by my grasp in his hair and press the blade tightly against his throat.

"Farferello..."

It's choked out and he has to finish his sentence prematurely because his speech makes the knife press deeper into his skin, almost cutting. Keeping the knife against his throat Crawford can't move, I know he could call out for Nagi but his pride wouldn't allow him to let the boy see him in this position, no, only I will have the pleasure of seeing him so submissive. Moving round I push him against the wall, his back flat, and I bring the knife off his flesh just barely so I don't slit his throat with the movement. His death is not what I want. This brief time gives him a moment to talk.

"What the fuck are you doing! Let me go now or…"

"Or what Brad? You gonna lock me up? Tell me I'm a bad boy and not let me out to play?"

He glares at me but keeps quiet… I see a lot of potential in him, already working his role without me even saying so. He knows when to keep quiet and be good, especially with his life in the hands of a madman. I take in his widened eyes and lean closer, pressing my body against his. He doesn't know what to think, he's unsure whether I'm going to kill him or not, he just waits, afraid. Not once have I seen the American like this.

"I have this theory Crawford… you're going to indulge my questions".

He stares at me and I think he'd do anything right now.

"You like to watch me don't you? Like to watch me lick my knives… you're jealous aren't you? That it's not you I dig the knife into, that's it's not your flesh I cut deeply, and let the blood flow from".

His smirk returns, his self-confident aura flowing, but even that can't hide his fear. I know he's putting on this pretense to try and seem his usual self.

"You don't know what you're talking about and when I get out of this…"

I push the knife tighter to his throat, breaking the top layer of skin and he whimpers slightly, his mask cracking again, one strike at a time.

"Let me go".

It's whispered softly and I press the knife deeper, threatening to draw more drops of his blood.

"Please…"

His voice cracks slightly and his eyes close before fluttering open. I find myself lost in their chocolate depths, without the glasses he looks much younger, and less the cynical leader.

"Is that what you truly want Crawford?"

He gulps slightly, a whispered "yes" emerging from his dried lips and his tongue flickers out to wet them. Once again I feel myself drawn from what I'm doing, until I mentally snap myself from it, his whimpers endearing, oddly erotic.

"You're sure about that?"

His eyes take on a slight wetness; I feel his barriers cracking like thin ice against my will.

"Yes… Farferello, please…"

It's desperate now, he knows he's loosing control. I smile softly and lean in until my nose is pressed against his and he can do nothing but openly staring at me. He must be frightened, my disfigured face so close to his own flawless skin, I wonder if his body is like that, and even if it is I know it won't be for long, his will and pride failing him against me.

"I can't do that Brad, and you know you don't want me to".

I do however, take the blade from his throat and his hand quickly moves to it, holding it protectively. However he makes no mood to leave me, to try and escape.

"What is wrong with you!"

He's almost hysterical and he winces a little at his shout, worried I'll pounce and this time slit his throat, or behead him.

"Nothing… I'm not the one getting aroused by a knife".

I smirk and his face slips with another mask, one of denial.

"Bull shit! Get out of my office!"

His voice is still quiet, raised only slightly, with less crisp and coldness. He moves away and I let him, let him think I've given up before pulling him against me, his back to my chest and my free arm tight around his waist, holding him to me.

"Don't turn your back on me!" I order.

I press the tip of the knife against his throat again, drawing another drop of blood before I trace the red tip of my blade over his shirt, staining it red, as I move the blade down. He's to scared to struggle again and knows I mean business. He would rather do as I please and hopefully come out of it alive. Slowly I let the blade descend until it's pressed snug against the front of his trousers, tracing gently over the growing erection, which I'd felt pressed against me earlier.

"You're not aroused? So, is this where you keep your gun?"

I laugh, and he whimpers softly, trying to pull away from the knife but only grinds himself further against me. I lean over him to watch what I do, biting back a short moan, and he shudders, my breath hot against his neck.

"Don't…you don't understand".

I don't listen and press the knife firmly against the bulge, tracing the length slowly and relish in his keening whimpers. I do understand, I understand completely what this admiration of my knife is… this want.

He whines softly as I press the knife harder against his flesh though not cutting… only when his whines grow louder do I finally push him away and drop him to the floor.

"What…"

He looks up from the floor, almost hurt that I stopped playing with him. Before that I would state some rules. If he wanted this, wanted me, he would follow them.

"Midnight you come to my room. If you want this you do what I tell you to. You will belong to me and no one else, if you can't follow this I will forget this night and nothing more will be said. Choice is yours Bradley".

I don't look at him as I head to the door, and the sign that he's not shooting me means he's thinking about it, or is to stunned to, right now. I know I could be treading on deadly ground, he is still leader and I must still follow him, but if he wants his little indulgence he will follow my rules for once.

"Midnight Crawford".

I wait a moment before opening the door and I disappear after closing it just as silently as I'd entered. I take a detour to my room, licking my knife clean of his sweet blood. All I had to do now was wait.

One way or the other, by midnight I'd have my answer.