A/N—This is a story about Brad and Schu. It is a Brad angst about his past, present, and possible future with Schuldig. Due to the fact that little is known about his past, I have taken creative liberties. This is a shounen-ai fic, please read and review
Disclaimer—I don't own Weiss Kreuz or any of the characters in it ; but I wish I did!
"You are forever stained," a gentle whisper calls.
A small figure leisurely approaches my lifeless body. Emotionless eyes swiftly study my still figure. Small, fragile fingers tenderly explore pink, luscious lips trailing down the nape of my neck. Probing fingers soon wraps around the sturdy neck of my body. My hands tremble up my bruised neck, grasping the figure's delicate hands; eyes slowly open only to see an immaculate boy.
"Those eyes," I tried to voice out, muffled, as if the words were unspoken, carried away by the bitter air.
A tiny moist droplet fell upon my cheek. I reach up to touch his frail features, but his image cracks into a million shards. Piercing indigo orbs searching my chestnut ones, his eyes pitying me before his image shatters lacerating my ethereal entity. Rivers of blood travel down my wounds, warmth dispensing from my being. My eyes expanded in sheer agony, forcing the vessel I occupy to sit up breathing heavily; clenching my once crisp white shirt. A nasty, painful sizzling hum tackles my eardrums. My body temperature rises as I feel a burning sensation.
The rivers of blood now look like oil on a sweltering pan. Screaming, a malicious sound surrounds my being. Feminine appendages viciously bolt from below me, devilish nails pierce my skin, and crimson slime oozes from the newly formed gashes. They haul my body toward the pool of blood, drowning in this red mass. Glasses float to the top of this red mass, a fleeting moment, darkness pounces into my soul; nothing, but the twinkling of my glasses remains.
Panting in horror, I sit up from a dream that I have seen many nights before.
Ripped ivory sheets lay before me,
"Why. . .why does this dream haunt me?" I said in a spiteful tone.
A vile, faint cackle echoes in the room. I reach for my gun as a figure crawls away from the shadows, entering the moonlight. A boy with jet-black hair and sapphire eyes gazes at me. The boy's gaze pierces through me, searching for a tainted window within me. Nothing but dark ice waters lies within.
"I am Brad Crawford, Junior," the boy said softly, a small smirk forms upon the boy's mouth.
"Ju. . .Junior," as the word left my lips, taking my aim off the boy. Junior, a name I was once called long ago; a name I despised. Even the thought of it gave me chills.
The boy walks towards me,
"Junior. . .you really have become a nobody. I'm disappointed in you," he says bitterly as he takes the gun from my hand.
"Your good for nothing mother had high hopes for you. . .too bad she can't see you wallowing in this God forsaken hell hole!" my forgotten father said angrily, pointing the gun directly at me.
"Good-bye Junior," the boy pulled the trigger, the sound of the gun echoed through the building as the bullet hit my chest; again I was dead.
"It's 8:27 a.m. Where's Crawford?" the telekinetic asked himself, looking around the room. Nagi searched the area carefully, making sure not to make too much noise.
"I'll be late for my class if he does not show up soon!" the boy said with concern.
Nagi headed toward the front door . . .
"Let's go," a deep, aloof voice said.
Nagi froze as he whipped around to see Crawford fixing his tie and slipping on his sleek black loafers. Nagi studied him vigilantly; there was something different about Crawford that was peculiar.
"Are you ready?" Crawford said without looking up at the boy as he picked up his briefcase.
"U. . .un," the telekinetic said shakily. The two men headed towards Crawford's beamer.
The ride to school was unsettling; the telekinetic did not want to disturb the American while he was driving, but something was distressing him. Crawford looked a bit worried, almost as if something appalling happened recently.
Did Crawford have a vision? Even if he did. . .Crawford never concerned himself with them much. Did he receive an unsettling phone call? Maybe Schuldich and Crawford had an argument, Nagi wondered.
The car came to a halt when they reached their destination. Nagi got out of the car quickly, taking his bag and said firmly,
"I will take the bus home when I am done here."
Crawford looked at Nagi and gave the telekinetic a simple nod. Nagi closed the car door and walked toward the school building; Crawford
left the school grounds, heading toward his destination.
