Welcome to the first chapter of my rewrite. If this is your first time reading this, I wrote this story a few years ago and since, my writing skills have developed. This rewrite is because I've recently re-read my own work and decided it was time to take another crack at it.
For those who have already read my story, if there is anything you want me to keep or drop, please let me know either be PM or in the comments.
"Soul, let's go. The kishin's getting away, " Maka Albarn yelled over the roaring of Soul Eater's cycle as they chased after their 80th kishin soul.
"I'm driving as fast as this baby will let me," Soul called back, "Just hold on."
The team raced down the streets of Monte Carlo, chasing a newly formed kishin.
"Why is this kishin so fast," Soul growled in his throat.
"It's newly formed, Soul. Turn right, the kishin is heading towards a dead-end."
"Gotcha."
The kishin came to a halt at the end of an alley just as Maka leaped off the cycle to stand five feet away from it.
"Your days have come to an end, kishin. Your soul is ours."
Soul kicked the cycle's kick stand just as a bright flash of light surrounded and shot the young weapon into the air where his meister caught him with a experienced grace. With a smile, the kishin sprinted at the team of two, claws sprouted from his hands, reaching out to strike anything in front of it. Maka hopped into the air before slamming her combat boot in the kishin's skull, throwing herself backwards into the air, landing on a nearby dumpster.
"This stinks," Maka's face twisted into an expression of disgust, swinging Soul, now in his scythe form, down on the kishin.
It jumped back with a snarl, claws gleaming under the setting sun dripping under the horizon. Claws and metal clashed together as Maka and the kishin dance a dangerous tango. Just as the light light of the sun disappeared behind the earth, the ground began to rumble.
"There you are my little pet," a voice laughed, sending a chill down Maka and Soul's spines.
"Who's there," Maka halted her fighting long enough to see the shadow of a man appearing between her and the kishin.
"You could call me a hunter, little weapon," the voice, now the man, chuckled. "Now, run along before you get hurt."
"Hey, buddy," Soul transferred by into his human form standing in front of Maka, "that's our kill."
The wind blew around the man, lifting a dark trench coat swiftly into the air. Gravity seemed to increase as the power team felt a murderous intent pushing on them. Suddenly, Soul was lifted into the air and slammed into the nearby dumpster, a blast of air, rushing past Maka. Make barely had enough time to look back Soul before she doubled over in pain from the man's boot knocking the breathe out of her lungs.
"Maka," Soul groaned out, trying to stand to protect her meister, unable to get his legs underneath him.
"Hold still, weapon," the man warned, "patience is a virtue."
Scraping from the claws of the kishin, before now forgotten, trying to scale the walls of the alley in the hopes of escape. The man walked away from Maka, leaving her grasping for breathe, his boots slapping heavily on the concrete as he strolled towards the cowardly kishin.
With a brief reflection of light, the kishin's head went rolling towards Maka, a soft red glow emanating from the kishin's corpse. The man turned back to the partners, ignoring the kishin's soul and started walking towards them.
"What. Do. You. . . Want," Maka choked out, attempting, and failing, to stand and defend her weapon.
"Destruction," the man laughed, slamming Maka back to the ground before continuing to Soul. "I wonder how you would react when we take away your weapon."
"Soul," Maka called, barely able to turn to see Soul struggling to move. "Transform."
"I can't," Soul growled, his limbs glowing briefly before dying back into their original form.
Maka gathered her strength as she pushed her arms beneath her body, forcing herself up from the ground. Ignoring the immense pain coating her body, she began moving towards Soul.
"Maka," Soul called softly as the man withdrew the same weapon he had used on the kishin.
An overwhelming desire to protect her weapon spread throughout her body, numbing the pain and replacing it with pure adrenaline Maka has never felt before. With a burst of strength, Maka ran straight at the man and pulled back her arm preparing for a punch. Suddenly, a burst of light surrounded her arm. As Maka threw her arm forward, her cloaked arm became a silver blade clipping the man trench coat just as he jumped away.
"Looks like the meister is also a weapon," the man laughed. "Until next time then."
Wind blasted around Maka and Soul, forcing them to close their eyes. When you looked back, the man had disappeared as well as his murderous presence.
"Soul." Maka knelt next to Soul, checking for injuries. "Are you okay."
"Maka. You're a weapon." The meister seems to ignore him as she continued her hunt for severe injuries. "Maka, you're a weapon. Are you listening to me?"
"Looks like you've got concussion," Maka noted, avoiding making eye contact with her weapon.
"Maka," Soul grabbed Maka's arm, forcing her to look at him. "How can you be a weapon?"
"I don't know," Maka blushed. "This is the first time I've done it."
"Well we need to see Death and ask him. As well as your dad."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Now help me stand."
Maka laid Soul's arm over her shoulder and helped him to stand. "What should we do about the soul?"
"I'm not hungry, just stick in your pocket."
Maka guided Soul to his cycle, letting him down on the seat and quickly jogging to the kishin soul.
Maka sighed in relief as she pushed the kishin soul into her coat pocket. "Okay, let's go to the Death Room."
Thank y'all for reading. Join me in the next chapter :)