Author: disintegrate

Title: Crimson Rain

Chapter: A Clichéd Beginning

Genre: supernatural/romance

Summary: She was supposed to be dead. Fortunately or unfortunately, you hadn't killed her.

Disclaimer: I don't own Nanoha or its characters. In fact, I suppose this is completely AU in the way I might as well have used any sort of characters to fit its roles.

Warning: Expect violent themes, fights, vampire like people who are not vampires. Demons, I suppose, would be a more correct word for them. But, this world of mine is completely unique. It doesn't take place in any well known realm. Just, well, you'll see as we go along, ne?


Her eyes changed from red, red wine to a soft shade of lavender. Her breath was heavy, ragged. Even their heart couldn't stop beating wildly from the rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins. There was nothing in the world like this feeling,

Beside her lay a familiar blonde, their features filled with warmth, trust. Forever frozen in that pose, only to rot with time.

and she knew that she would never have that feeling again.

She stood and took in the smell of her prey. There was nothing more to say. There were no more words that she could exchange, for the only one she would have liked to talk to was there, lying on her bed covered in copper tears and she could still remember their sweet, sweet taste.

Without bothering to toss a blanket over the blonde, she left the room.

Without bothering to check, she did not notice the blonde's hand twitch with life.


Ten Years Ago

She could feel the rain bearing down on them, washing away the burgundy that stained the polished floors. There were a few around that were still alive and the woman couldn't help taking in a deep breath to soak it all in, as if absorbing their very souls.

There was something about life that they always found utterly alluring, the way their heart beat ever so steadily. The way their chest rose slowly, indicating that they were relaxed in this pose of theirs. (Or perhaps, they knew that there was nothing else that they could do with their injuries.) Then the few who were panicking, those innocent (the woman scoffed at that, none were innocent in this battle field of theirs). Their hearts were faster than those of a hummingbird, frantically, wastefully, pitifully, trying to find a way out, to survive. Human instinct overriding any sense they had. Friends or foes, they could recognize both lying around them. There was even one man she'd trained with back during her early school years.

Yet, that was not what the woman was focused on. What held their eyes was the life coursing through their veins, until they reached those red stained floor. It was dripping, ever so slowly. The life each of the slain had done the same. The cuts were not as kind as to avoid such a death.

Their thin, normally neutral smile became more focused, more intense, as it slowly curled upwards. Along the many halls, she'd sensed another soul. It was horribly injured, judging by the way the sound of their soft foot fell against the marble floors.

It did not take too long to greet them and pin them down to the cool floor beneath. As a silver blade narrowed the distance between them, the woman could tell that their prey was struggling to stay conscious.

And the woman wanted no more than to take hold of that very life in their hands at that very moment.

A hand pulled back preparing to strike the final blow. Their gaze steadied on theirs, awaiting their reaction. The cool steel went forth,

And they stared up at them defiantly, horribly confident that they would survive this, no matter what the woman were to do to them,

stabbing nothing but the wood around them.

There was something that caused them to stay their hand, to spare them. The way their prey stared up at them, unyielding. The pride held in those burgundy eyes of theirs. It was as if they were speaking to them wordlessly, "this is not the end." They were no foe, yet the symbol on their shirt said otherwise. Under those burgundy eyes, they felt lost.

And they never had felt this way before.

They stepped back, and a friend of theirs (whom neither did not even notice until now) noted their reaction to the child and verbally wondered if they should take this prey.

"No." The woman's voice surprised herself and clearly the other who'd come with her. "I am taking her with us."

The other shrugged, figuring that they shouldn't butt in. That didn't stop them from giving the woman a bit of advice though. "Remember, you will have to kill her one day, Signum."

And with that, the other left, leaving the woman to stare at the crimson clad child.


Present

"How was it?" A honey blonde woman asked, snaking her way to her in order to take hold of the other's hand. They pulled away from her, however, causing her to frown. "Not good I take it then?"

The stoic pinkette said nothing in response, hoping that the other would quit badgering her. The thrill of the hunt was gone. There would be no going back.

"All those years were a waste then, I take it?"

To this, she finally spoke up, never looking in the blonde's eyes. "No." She gave a rather depressed sigh. "There should have been more."

Right then it was as if a light bulb clicked in the blonde woman's mind. The medic shook her head at that, knowing just what she'd meant, "I told you to kill her when you had the chance."

"It wouldn't have been right. She was only a child."

"And you've seen children that are worse than adults."

"Does it change the fact that she was still a child that bore not even a hand against me?"

To this, the medic sighed as well, even going as far to give a small shrug. "... that honor of yours will get you killed one day, you know." The medic said sadly.

"I know that well, Shamal. I know that all too well."

And with that, the two met their destination, the room where their leader rested.

Inside the room, there was a long table used for meetings, such as now, that was able to sit as many as twelve people per side. It made the room appear smaller than it really was, however, with the high ceiling; it was far more intimidating that it should be. The room was always a bit colder than any other.

At the head of the table a slim brunette, just a head shorter than the blonde, approached the two. Quickly, efficiently. Just a blur or a blink, as if they had not just been at the other side of the room a few seconds ago. There was something about the way that she held herself that clearly showed her dominance over them, the shroud of mystery hidden beneath those smoky eyes. As if just sitting at the very head of the long table did not show their leadership.

Momentarily ignoring the medic, she turned to the pinkette. "Have you finished her off then?" She asked bluntly, obtaining the stares of the others in the room, whom the two did not seem to have noticed until that very moment. Among the men and women in the room, there was a particular orange haired woman, whom Signum recognized as the white devil, glaring at her. No matter what answer she were to give, that woman will always be mad at her, she knew this well.

"I have. If she were to survive," there was a gasp among the table to which the brunette quickly turned to glare at them before urging her to continue, "it would be considered a miracle even for one of us."

"... I see. Very well." And with that, she disappeared again, only to reappear at her seat waiting for the two of them to take their seats as well. "Shall we resume our meeting?"


BAM!

The wood splintered just where her head had been, narrowly dodging the punch. "Nanoha." Signum began, but the orange haired woman wasn't listening. Instead, she continued with her barrage of attacks that Signum did not fight back at, only dodging them easily. The woman before her was never that good at dodging strikes. She focused on power, just as Signum had. However, she was far more balanced, taking in her own speed as well. Each strike (had she done so) were never wasted in flailing as wildly as Nanoha had now. "Nanoha."

Signum clicked her tongue, disliking the fact that she may have to use force in order to get this farce to stop. She doubted that Hayate would take kindly to the damages to their surroundings due to the orange haired's wild attacks. "After all that time, all those years you'd spent together, I can't believe you would kill her off so easily just because you were ordered?" She cried openly, the tears now flowing down her cheeks.

As the woman bent down, she focused her power on her thumb and flicked the handle of her sword. Almost like a rocket, it flew up and hit the woman in the middle of the forehead, instantly knocking her out. Her body slumped against Signum's, and the pinkette decided to carry her to their room to rest.

After placing the young woman in bed, she learned in to their ear and murmured, "I'm sorry, Nanoha. For everything."

And with that, Signum left.


They were not peaceful creatures. She knew it. They knew it. Strife and chaos was what would and always be part of their lives for as long as they live. Their hands will always be stained with blood. That was what it meant to survive these days, and it had been far too long since she could remember when there were days without it.

She leaned back, pressing a hand against the soft fabric on her bed behind her before realizing something chilling. There was supposed to be another one lying behind her, at the very center of the bed. The sanguine sheets were supposed to be tainted dark red now from the blood that would have dried since she had left it, not this shade of dark red from dyes.

"Just how -"

And there they were. Their red eyes clearly focused on them, before smothering them into those red sheets of theirs. A pair of wine red lips smothered against hers.

They fought, they struggled.

Neither one let up.