Here is yet another Soul Eater fanfiction for your enjoyment. I should warn now that this is going to be my first attempt at something a little more…sinister. I hope I don't wreck it. Anyway, a little background, if one remembers from "Witches and Vampires," I mentioned an asylum for criminally insane weapons. This is the story of one inmate…Number 0721130.
Stein stood with Spirit at his side, both men staring with identical expressions of boredom. Before them, past the rusted, slightly open gate, loomed the dark silhouette of the institute known as Lost Soul Asylum. Their mission was clear: find and eliminate the pre-Kishin inside. This mission was considered highly classified, and only the two men and Lord Death knew about it.
"Do we have any more information on the target?" asked Spirit, putting his hands in his pockets. There was a flash of lightning that illuminated the dull square buildings that made up the Asylum, and the Death Scythe found that the atmosphere couldn't have been creepier. Behind him, Stein smiled and chuckled, only exacerbating the feeling.
"The man in question was admitted three months ago, after being transferred from Alcatraz."
"Alcatraz?"
"Yes. For murdering fourteen inmates and five of the staff, including the warden. I'm not sure why he was put in Alcatraz in the first place, but he was deemed insane and sent here. Why they didn't just put him down right then and there is beyond me."
"And does he have a name?" asked Spirit as rain began to come down, causing steam to rise from the hot asphalt. The summer heat was the cause of this.
"There wasn't a name listed, though I'm sure the man had one. All we know is his prisoner number: Number 0721130. Oh and be ready, senpai. He's a Scythe."
"…great."
Inside
The halls were dark and quiet, as was to be expected after what he had done. But he had to do it…didn't have a choice. He knew it was them. It was their fault. He looked around, at the scattered papers, the destroyed desk in the corner (he was currently in one of the staff offices), the broken ceiling lights, and the slash marks on the wall, accompanied by the crimson of drying blood. The only light in the room was from a single soul, glowing blue and bright. Too bright.
"Eat it. It will kill the light."
"No…I don't want to eat that man's vile soul,"
"But doesn't he deserve it? For what he's done?"
"He deserves worse…"
"Then destroy it, and be done with the light!" He nodded at this. The Voice was usually right anyhow. There was a quick flash of light before his arm took the form of a black scythe, and with one swift movement, the soul was gone and he was once more surrounded in darkness. His arm transformed once more, and even this light bothered his eyes. He knew that soon, he wouldn't even be able to stand the smallest of sparks. It was then that he felt it…well, not really felt it, but it was more of a smell. He could smell it. The smell of two souls entering the Asylum.
"More have come."
"And? What does it matter to me?"
"It matters the world to us, 0721130" the Voice said to him, barely a whisper, using the only name he could respond to, "These two are part of it. You and I both know why they are here: they know we know who is to blame…we should deal with them as well." To this, 0721130 only had one word on his lips.
"Evangeline," he muttered, then took off like a bolt of lightning down the hall, stirring the papers on the ground as he ran, the Voice egging him on the whole time.
Short, I know. I hope you guys like it, this is one that's been on my mind for a while. Well, like it is an overstatement I suppose. Oh well, read and review please.