Summary: The seeds of insurrection are planted.
A.N. : Just a short one-shot to get me back into writing.
Weiss Kreuz and all related characters belong to Koyasu Takehito and Project Weiss. Frau Katina belongs to me. I am not making any money off of this.
"Have a seat, Mr. Crawford."
FlashRoses
"Mister Crawford." A woman's voice rang down the hall behind him, rough and nearly masculine. He stopped walking and turned to face the speaker. He already knew who it was. Frau Katina. He had gone to her class only once. She killed ten students that first day. He walked back towards her. He knew what this meeting was about.
"Mister Crawford, you have missed the past three weeks of class. You will accompany me to my office." She was shorter than him, with crew-cut hair and bruised eyes. Everyone knew she was insane.
"Yes, Frau Katina." If he was lucky, he would spend the next six months in the clinical wings.
He followed her dutifully down the hallway to her small office. It wasn't at all what he was expecting. He had been inside an officer's office only once, and from what he remembered it had rivaled any doctor's office. This was little more than a Rosenkreuz-grey room with a cheap metal desk and filing cabinets and two uncomfortable wooden chairs.
"Have a seat, Mister Crawford."
"Yes, Frau Katina." He sat. She unlocked a door on the filing cabinet behind her and removed a folder before she too sat.
"Your name is on my class roster. It has not been removed. I have not seen you in class since the first day."
He was panicking inside. She expected a response, but what could he say?
"Yes, Frau Katina."
"Why have you not gone to class, Mister Crawford?"
He was counting to one hundred in French. Gathered his thoughts. His eyes darted to the door. She noticed. She was inhumanly strong and fast. He would never make it.
"Well, Mister Crawford? Why have you not gone to my class?"
He told the truth. "Frau Katina. It seems to me you're wasting valuable man-power. You kill indiscriminately under the guise of weeding out the weak links. But out of the hundred and thirty that my year started out with, we're down to only seventy. You've probably killed forty of those students."
"Forty-six. So you don't attend class because I might kill you too?"
"Partially, Frau Katina."
"Partially? Explain, Mister Crawford."
"Rosenkreuz might not have a problem with your 'teaching' style, but perhaps they should. You've likely killed hundreds of students this year alone, and those students could have gone on to become officers or field agents." He stopped. He'd probably said too much. She would take offense.
"Exactly, Mister Crawford. I will take you off my roster. You are excused." He stood mechanically, stunned. Excused? She maneuvered around the desk and gently pushed him out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. He stood there, back to her office door, for a long moment before gathering himself and heading back to his dorms.
Her words, "Exactly, Mister Crawford" rang in his ears. Did she really mean….? It was madness, heresy. Destroying the future generations of Rosenkreuz right under their noses. It was madness. Heresy.
It was brilliant.
(END)