Bloody Roses
Chapter One
The Witch and the Clock

"Happy birthday!" A young blonde woman wearing a nightgown came bounding into a dim room where her brunette friend was still sleeping, a big smile plastered on her face. "Natasha, hello! Wake up! It's your birthday! The big double two!"

"No, shit," the brunette, Natasha, replied. Her voice was barely more than a whisper and half of her face was still buried in her pillow. She looked at her alarm clock and groaned. "Jeanine, it's 9:30!"

"I know. Get up!"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I need my sleep, so bugger off!"

Jeanine smirked, walked over to the window and pulled open the blinds, letting the morning sunlight shine through. Natasha covered her head with her duvet and growled. "Jeanine, I said bugger off!"

"Nope," Jeanine replied, pulling that large, thick blanket off the bed. "It's you birthday and we've got lots of stuff to do, so get up! It's your fault for staying up too late last night."

"Hey, it's not my fault I'm a night owl," Natasha said as she finally sat up and stretched. "Besides, I was almost finished Devil May Cry 3 and I wanted to see the ending."

"You and your video games," Jeanine commented, shaking her head. "When will you get a life?"

"When you stop interrupting mine."

"Ouch, that hurts," Jeanine replied, placing her hands over her left breast. "You break my heart."

"I'll break more than that if you don't stop that drama," Natasha commented, her eyes narrowed. "I'm going to have a hot shower."

"You'd better not take too long or there'll be no hot water for me."

"Too bad. You should have thought about that before you woke me up." Natasha strode past her friend and towards the bathroom, locking the door behind her so she wouldn't be interrupted. Looking in the mirror at her tired face, Natasha caught sight of dark circles beneath her eyes. Thanks a lot, Jeanine. Now I look like I haven't slept in days.

Sighing, Natasha removed her pajamas and turned on the water. After spending a good thirty-five minutes in the shower, she turned off the water, wrapped herself in a towel and walked back to her room. She sighed with relief when she saw Jeanine was no longer there and dressed in silence, slipping on her favourite pair of jeans and a navy blue short-sleeved t-shirt. She combed out her curly hair and tied it into a small ponytail, keeping the loose strands at bay with a few small hair clips.

Natasha could smell something good as she strode towards the kitchen. Her eyes went wide when she saw a plate of freshly made fettuccine alfredo pasta on the table. Her gaze then moved to Jeanine, who pulled a small ice cream cake out of the freezer.

"Jeanine, you really shouldn't have ..."

"Don't say another word," Jeanine cut in. "This is you birthday. You're supposed to be treated like a princess. Besides, it's not everyday your best friend turns twenty-two."

"True," Natasha replied with a smile as she sat down at the table. "If this is what you did with only half an hour, I'm almost afraid to see what you would do with just one hour."

"Relax. I know how picky you are, so after I get ready and we finish eating, we're going out to a have a day of fun at the mall. And you can pick out whatever you want. My treat," Jeanine answered with a wink.

"Are you serious?"

"You forget who you're talking to."

Natasha gave a small smile. Jeanine came from a rich family and she often loved to treat Natasha, who came from a much less fortunate family, whenever she had the opportunity. The two met in high school and have been friends since. And to think it all started with Jeanine having issues with her homework assignment and asking Natasha, who was supposedly the brain of the class, for help. Although Natasha wasn't actually brainy at all, she did help Jeanine answer the question. Math was always a tough subject to tackle.

"Tempus fugit," Natasha muttered as she lifted her fork.

"Yeah, time flies alright," Jeanine said in reply. "Be back in two shakes."

By the time Jeanine returned to the kitchen twenty minutes later, Natasha had finished the entire fettuccine plate and had begun eating a piece of cake. "You just couldn't wait, could you?" Jeanine questioned with a smile.

"The cake was going to melt if you left it out too long," Natasha replied, blinking her eyes innocently.

Jeanine chuckled. "Yeah, right. I'll let your food-stealing ways pass for today."

"Stealing? Have you forgotten whose birthday it is?"

Both girls laughed. Natasha had a reputation for eating ... a lot. Jeanine could swear Natasha had a bottomless pit for a stomach. Food also went missing if you left it in the refrigerator for more than a day, and it was always because of her. The bugger of it all was Natasha weighed only 102 pounds at most.

"So, where do you want to go first?" Jeanine mumbled through a mouth full of cake.

"I don't know," Natasha replied. She held her chin up with her right hand and thought for a moment. "We could go to Chapters at the Hallman Bank Mall. There are several other stores there I wanted to look through for a while anyway."

"Sounds good."


"Tasha, are you going to stand at this shelf all day? How long can it take to look through a book?"

"As long as it takes," Natasha replied, turning another page in the novel she had been reading for the past half an hour.

"That was not a good answer, Tasha."

"Suck it up!"

"No! Are you buying the book or not?"

"... No."

"Then put the damn thing away and look at something you will buy!" Jeanine grabbed Natasha by the collar of her coat and began dragging her out of a huge bookstore. "We are going to browse some other stores for a while."

"Fine," Natasha muttered as Jeanine let go of her coat, allowing her to walk normally. "Where should we go next, then?"

"How about ... there?" Jeanine pointed to a small store several meters away.

"It's an antique shop," Natasha commented.

"And? You like antiques, don't you?"

"Since when have you cared?"

"Since today." Jeanine proceeded to grab Natasha again, but her friend pulled away and started walking towards the antique shop herself, not wanting to get dragged around again.

Natasha entered the small store to find herself surrounded by exquisitely beautiful pieces of furniture and decorations. Some were as small and simple as Christmas ornaments while others, like a nineteenth century grandfather clock, were large and complicated, yet beautiful. It didn't take long before a woman, the only employee, approached the two girls.

"Good afternoon, ladies," the woman said with an odd smile. She was wearing a black and white pinstriped suit. Her dyed icy blue hair was rolled into two neat buns on her each side of her head, and her skin was unusually pale. She spoke with a European accent that Natasha couldn't quite point out. "What can I do you today?"

"We're just browsing, thanks," Natasha said in reply, smiling back.

The woman nodded. Her dark blue eyes seemed to flash and were piercing. "Very well. If you need any assistance, please let me know."

Natasha suddenly pulled Jeanine aside. "That woman's beginning to creep me out."

"Why? I don't think she's scary."

"She's just ... I don't get a good feeling about her, that's all."

Jeanine shook her head. "Tasha, Tasha, Tasha. Sometimes I think these 'gut feelings' of yours are a little off."

"I've learned to listen to my gut feelings, and I don't like her," Natasha replied, sounding slightly annoyed. "I can't help it if I'm a little psychic, but it has saved my ass more than once." Natasha tried to leave the store but Jeanine stopped her. "Jeanine!"

"Okay, okay. We'll leave, but only after you pick out something."

Natasha sighed. Jeanine was obviously itching to buy something for her and she wasn't going to let Natasha out of this one. Natasha started walking around the store, gazing at the shelves and trying her best to ignore the feeling of that woman's eyes upon her. It sent a sharp chill down her spine.

"I see you're interested in clocks."

Natasha jumped and gasped, turning to see the woman was suddenly standing right next to her. She was still smiling, but now Natasha could tell it was forced.

"Um, yeah... Roman numeral clocks, preferably."

"May I suggest something for you, my dear?"

Before Natasha could answer, the woman walked away for a few seconds and came back with an object in her hand. Natasha couldn't help by stare at its beauty. It was a small clock with roman numerals, made of wood and plated with gold in various places. The design made it look like the face was sitting on a pile of books. The woman smile seemed to become more genuine when she saw Natasha's eyes widen.

"It's ... beautiful."

"Oh, yes. This one of the rarest and most beautiful items we have in stock," the woman said.

Now I recognize that accent, Natasha thought to herself, thinking back on one of her favourite movies. German. She's from Germany.

"This object is one of a kind," the woman continued. "I can give it to you for ... one thousand Canadian dollars. No taxes."

"One thousand? ... Um ..."

"C'mon, Tasha. Who cares? It's you birthday."

The woman gave a laugh that sounded somewhat like a cackle. "Goodness, dear. Is it really your birthday? You should have mentioned that sooner. In that case, you can have it for half price: five hundred Canadian dollars. How does that sound?"

"Well ..."

"We'll take it!" Jeanine cut in. Natasha felt like strangling her friend. The woman nodded and brought the object to the front desk, proceeding to wrap the item in tissue paper and slip it into a bag. Jeanine gave the woman the amount in five one hundred dollar bills, picked up the bag and gave it to Natasha.

"Thank you for shopping with us," the woman said as the girls left the store.

"Are you satisfied?" Natasha asked when they were at least five meters away.

"Why are you so uptight?"

"I'm telling you that woman is pure evil, and it's not because she's German!"

"How'd you know she's German?"

"The accent."

"I thought it was British."

"You have seen the Harry Potter movies, right?"

"Yes."

"Based on that, did her accent sound British to you?"

"Well ... no, but what makes you think that woman is 'evil'?"

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Never mind. If you don't get it now, you're not going to get it."

Jeanine sighed. "Look, Tasha. I want to believe you, I really do, but ..."

"There's no proof that she is," Natasha finished. "There isn't always physical proof for something right in front of you. Sometimes you just feel it. You just don't believe me. Admit it."

"Tasha, I ... I didn't mean it like that."

"Whatever, can we just go home?"


Despite that creepy antique store employee and her friend's bossy nature, Natasha actually had a good birthday. On the way home, Jeanine convinced her to stop at a McDonald's for a couple of sundaes and they spent the time chatting about random stuff like cheesy commercials, movies, television shows and Jeanine's ex-boyfriends. They didn't actually get back to the apartment until a few hours later. By then, it was past six o'clock and the sun had already gone down.

"So, overall, how would you rate your birthday this year on a scale of one to ten?" Jeanine asked.

"Well, I'd say an eight point five," Natasha replied.

"Not bad. Better than last year, even with today's events," Jeanine commented with a satisfied smile. "So when are you going to set your new clock?"

"In a few minutes. I'm going to read through the cards I received from my family first."

"Ah." Jeanine opened her mouth in a huge yawn. "Geeze, I didn't realize I'd be this tired so early. This day really took a lot out of me."

"Don't tell me you're going to go to bed right now?" Natasha looked at the clock. "It's only six thirty."

"Oh, well."

"You'll be up at five thirty again tomorrow," Natasha warned.

"You think I care? Good night," Jeanine replied, yawning again as she left the living room.

Natasha shook her head, a small smile slipping into view before slipping away just as quickly. She was tired too, but she couldn't sleep. Something about that blue-haired woman from the antique shop continued to put her on edge. And why was she so desperate to sell that clock to her in the first place?

Feeling a minor headache coming on, Natasha decided to push those thoughts aside and focus on her clock. It was very beautiful in the semi-dim lighting of the room. She picked up the clock and began setting the time. Then she realized that she needed to wind it up, but with what? She rotated the clock in her hands, looking for some sort of mechanism to wind it with, but found nothing. There wasn't even a space for a battery. Frowning, Natasha placed the clock down on the end table and crossed her arms. Getting up, she began pacing around the room, trying to find some sense in this whole thing.

That witch must have ripped us off, Natasha thought. That's it! We're going back tomorrow and getting our money back!

Then she heard a small click, like something was moving. She approached the clock and picked it up. To her surprise, the hands of the clock were moving by themselves. She watched in disbelief as they rotated counter-clockwise and stopped at twelve o'clock. Then the clock began to ring.

Bing, bing, bing, bing ...

"What's going on here?"

Bing, bing, bing, bing ...

"There must be a ghost in this place."

Bing, bing, bing, bing.

The clock stopped after twelve rings. Suddenly, she felt the floor collapse beneath her and her vision went blurry. She closed her eyes and held the clock close to her. Her stomach felt like it was inhabited by a swarm of butterflies and Natasha held her breath, afraid she'd hurl if she didn't. Then it was over almost as quickly as it came. She fell to the ground back first, the clock falling out of her hands. The wind was knocked out of her and for a moment, she couldn't breathe. She slowly rolled over onto her stomach and moaned. Looking up, she found herself in a large room she found unfamiliar and staring at three people she didn't know. Two of them, a man and a woman, were dressed similarly to a cardinal of the Catholic Church. The third was standing in front of a throne, dressed all in white with a staff and hat that spelled ...

Pope? She thought, staring in disbelief. That ... that just can't be right. He's no more than sixteen years old, if that. No more than a boy. Our current pope is that old man ... what's his name ... Benedict something-or-other? This must be a movie set or something...

"Arrest the intruder!" the man shouted in a loud booming voice.

Suddenly, Natasha was forcefully pulled to her feet; her hands held firmly behind her back as there were placed in metal cuffs, and found several blades and guns pointed at her throat. Now she could fully view her surroundings and couldn't stop her mouth from hanging open. The she was in a huge domed room, with marble floors and large stone support polls on each side of the entrances. She was surrounded by several other cardinals and armoured guards. One of the guards, who was holding a blade to her throat, was a woman with short silvery blue hair covering one eye. Her gaze was very cold but didn't contain the evil nature of that witch from that antique store. Despite how bazaar things were, there was no way this was a movie set.

This can't really be ... the Vatican? I can't be ... can it?

"Well, heretic," the man said, his stern and booming voice making her shiver. "Who do you work for? The Empire? Rosen Kreuz? Some other Methuselah terrorist organization?"

"Hey, hold on a second!" Natasha said, both afraid and aggravated. "I am NOT a heretic, I work for no one and I have no idea what a Methuselah is!"

"No idea what a Methuselah is? Vampires have been roaming this earth for centuries! Making up lies to protect your comrades, no doubt!"

"Are you deaf? I told you I work for no one!"

"You dare talk like that in front of His Holiness Pope Alessandro XVIII? The very act is blasphemous! You are under arrest for blasphemy and attempted assassination of His Holiness ..."

"Hey, I did not such thing! How was I supposed to know I would end up in the middle of the Vatican? You're the one whose making up lies!"

"How dare you?! Take her away!"

Take me away? To where? Natasha tried to squirm, but found herself suddenly in pain as a fist found its way to her stomach. Her body instantly weakened and she began shaking in pain, wanting to hold her poor stomach but unable to move. She found it hard to keep her eyes open and felt herself being dragged across the floor. The last thing she saw before being pulled out of the room was the sad and concerned face of the young boy they called Pope.


Author's Note: Thank you for reading. This is my first Trinity Blood story and I just got into the series recently. I have only read the first four volumes of the manga and seen the entire anime series, so if there are errors, please kindly let me know and I will fix them. Brother Petro was holding Natasha from behind and Sister Paula was the one who oh-so-kindly punched her in the stomach. Nice welcome from the Inquisition, eh? Well, that's what she gets for pissing off Francesco. Oh, and three guesses as to who that blue-haired woman from the antique shop is. ;)