~ All standard disclaimers apply

~ Warning: Deathfic, tons of blood, morbid, stuff like that

~ Note: This is only the prologue, so that's why it's so short. All reviews appreciated

~ Tears of Blood: Ninmu ~

HellFire

In a darkened room two shadowed men sat, one on the floor, the other in an armchair. The man in the armchair laughed, the sound soft and low. He picked up a glass from a nearby table, swirling the half-empty goblet. The dark red wine possessed the only color visible in the small room. The man took a sip, then replaced the glass on the table. Leaning back his head, the figure spoke.

"Winter. A time of harsh coldness, a time of death. The cold kills plants, burying them under a smothering blanket of snow and ice. Food is scarce, warmth even more so. People and other animals hole themselves up in their homes, attempting to stay warm and escape the winter's harsh winds and biting frost.

"Winter in this area is specially harsh. Many have died of malnutrition and cold, just as many left on their deathbeds. They wait for the summer to finish them off. Never has there been a proper burial given, never will the people be able to give one. The dead outnumber the living. If these people knew the secret of necromancy, the dead could drive out the living just by sheer force of numbers.

"Every winter is the same as the previous one. Cold gales blow, whipping the skeletal trees back and forth, preventing any snow from settling, if the people are lucky enough. Most often there is no snow. The air is too cold, freezing the snow into hailstones. Always the wind blows, never ceasing in its howling.

"The people don't move because they can't. There is nowhere for them to go. Even if there were, the people would die long before they reached it. Crops are hard to maintain, often dying before they ripen. The people would have no food, and would die of starvation, if the cold didn't steal their souls first. Or rather, if the cold didn't give me reason to want their souls.

"Yes, I'm rambling. No smart-ass remarks. You know very well what would happen, I'm sure. Ah, you and your comrades are forced to stay in this area for quite a spell yet, am I correct? Yes… and that Arab boy provides for you. Not that it would matter if he didn't, in your case at least.

"Now, I'm giving you a side mission, one I expect completed within a quarter moon's turn. Don't worry, you'll be rewarded, as usual.

"What I want you to do is get rid of the other Gundam pilots. They're a nuisance, sending me such strong souls. What's that?

"Why not kill the scientists? Those idiots may be the ones who trained you boys and give you orders, but it's you boys who kill the soldiers and give me such reluctant spirits. I want those boys dead and I want you to kill them.

"Now go, and don't fail me. I own your soul. I can do whatever I want with it, to it.

"I knew you'd understand. I'll be waiting."

The black figure vanished, leaving behind the half-empty glass of wine and a single, red rose, petals tipped in black, thorns wicked sharp. The other person lowered his head, a long braid of hair slipping over his shoulder. The snowstorm raged on outside, oblivious.

~ Tsuzuku ~

~ A/N: Remember, this was only the prologue. I'm working on the next part, and hopefully it'll be better. Ja.