Hidden Behind The Mask
By Black Rebellious - a dark Sailor Moon/Gundam Wing cross-over
Rated: R- Drugs, self-torture, death and darkness.
Note: Sailor Moon and Gundam Wing belong to their respective companies and originators. This is a fanfic, meaning it's a piece of fiction written by a fan- both of which hold true in this story.
Chapter I
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The Latin music ripped through the air, stirring her blood and moving her body. Maybe it wasn't the music by itself- the drinks intoxicating her blood helped. Either way, her head swung from side to side, long blonde hair becoming tangled into knots. It wasn't the easy, comfortable music they were playing that night. No, it was the fast, breath-taking salsa music that girls listened to and wished they could dance to. It was the music that called for the human body to be pressed up against its opposite sex and just dance. She couldn't understand the words but it didn't matter. With all the tequila she'd drunken, she wouldn't have understood the singers even in her native tongue.
"Hey beautiful, care to dance?" a deep voice asked. She opened her eyes, not remembering when she'd closed them, and looked up into the dizzying picture before her. It was a guy, that much she could tell. The wild lights and smoke machine wouldn't have given even a somber person a good look at him but from what she could tell, he looked handsome. Of course, all guys looked handsome at this time.
She gave what she thought was an inviting smile- it looked as inviting as any drunk looked- and slipped her long fingers to his chest. "Of course," she mumbled, words tangled with the gasps of air she decided she suddenly needed.
He smiled and in the hazy smoke pulled her close to him. Real close. She gasped, feeling a drum beating beneath her hands. Slow and steady, the only thing that was steady for her in her current state. Sweat-filled air filled her nostrils as over fifty others crowded the popular night club, most as wasted as her. His breathing on her long neck brought her to some sense and suddenly she didn't like the situation. Not at all.
"I-I gotta go," she stated, pulling away. Her wobbly knees and his firm grip prevented her not-so-graceful escape and she was suddenly faced again with his smile. His white teeth fascinated her, so white against the blackness of the dance floor.
"Not so soon, babe," he crooned in her ear, warm breath blowing into her sensitive earlobes. She shivered violently. "We just started.
"But-" and her thought left as he suddenly stabbed her with something. Stabbing wasn't' the right word. It was more like poked. She barely caught sight of a long, silver needle coming out of her forearm before she became totally reasonless and collapsed.
---
The man held her limp body tight, keeping up the pretence that she was still awake in case of peeping eyes, until he thought it was safe. He lifted her carefully, not wanting any harm to come to his precious package, and made his way across the dance floor. He shouldn't have worried about curious onlooker. The entire dance crowd was wasted and those that weren't were far too interested in the vulnerable female population to bother with him. And if anyone asked, he already had a fail-proof answer. She was a friend and had taken one too many drinks. He was taking her home. It happened enough times at places like this, no questions would be pressed.
He allowed himself another glance at the resting beauty in his arms, asking him that inevitable question: why did it always happen to the good people?
She was about twenty but it didn't show. She looked as young as a fifteen-year old, possibly fourteen if she'd tried. At the moment, she looked positively wasted but he'd seen pictures of her when she smiled without wine, beer, or drugs and she glowed. Fake bracelets rattled on her too skinny arms and makeup that was caking off from her sweat hid her beautiful innocence. He carefully wiped the line of mascara that was beginning to run and, careful not to drag her incredibly long blonde hair, left the dance club.
Outside with the fresh air, he wasted no time in putting as much distance between the foul drug party in the club. He started with a casual pace but it quickly grew faster until he was running, carrying her weight like it was nothing. Which it was. He frowned again at the ribs showing beneath her mare mid-drift. Anorexic, most likely. The public image of a perfect woman seemed to be one hunched over by starvation. Personally, he liked the ones with a little more meat on their bones.
Though he didn't look it, his guard was on at its highest level. The alley he ran through was mostly empty but sounds and sight was deceiving. He knew from experience as a child of the street that quietness was nothing more then an invitation to trouble.
The part of the city he ran through was nothing more then a run-down, drug lord run Mafia hideout. Not even police dared to walk alone, even during the day. The nights meant death to those without experience, reputation, and protection and he had none.
A trashcan fell to the ground, scaring the shit out of him. He increased his speed, clutching the girl tighter and preying to the only god he trusted in that he wouldn't be visited that night. If not for him, then for the girl in his arms. The god seemed to listen because he reached his destination safety.
Two black motorcycles gleamed in the streetlight, looking to be free for the public. Had it not been for the man standing beside them, in broad sight and seemingly helpless beneath the streetlight's bright glare. He seemed that way to many but those who knew him, or at least of him, knew much better then to try to get in his way. The man holding the girl allowed himself a tight smile of relief and reached the bikes. Neither said a word but they had known each other long enough that verbal communication was no longer needed. They both got on their separate bikes, the first making special care of his package, before grabbing the handles and speeding off into the night.
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"Well?"
The two boys had barely parked their bikes in their garage before being assaulted by the question. The first pulled off his helmet, shaking free his long brown braid and smiled. "No problem."
The other two men in the garage, the ones who had entered as soon as they saw the lights of the bikes, relaxed with relief.
The second man also pulled off his helmet, revealing a cold face and dark brown hair spiked wild in the air. He gave the new two a measuring look and then set to work unloading the girl. The other two, one with light, almost white hair and a soft face and the other with short brown hair, with the exception of one rather long bang that fell right into his fight eye, glanced at each other before moving forward immediately to help. Their eyes widened at the sight of such an innocent. "She's the one we're after?" the blonde asked lightly, delicately.
The first, the one with the braid, nodded with distaste. If he hadn't been in the blonde's presence, he would have spat. "Yea. That's her. Make you kind of wonder, doesn't it. If the report's are true…" His voice trailed off but all present heard the emphasis he put on a particular word. If.
The second lifted her from her position and held her in an efficient manner. It was the only way he would touch anyone, without any true care but with a manner that spoke of his total control. The others watched and followed him outside.
The garage was a separate building from the house. Its size was similar to a one-level, modest middle class home but paled in comparison to the real living quarters of the team of young men. It was, in short words, a mansion. But not just any mansion. It was the mansion. A concrete trail, plain white bricks, lead from the garage to the house, and the view was spectacular. Whoever built the mansion wasted no talents.
It was three stories from the outside but two levels were underground. Dozens of clean opened windows, outlined by billowing curtains, shone at them and the white wood looked freshly scrubbed. No weeds built up against the paths or leaned against the building. The small group entered through two front doors of ivory, doubled by glass, and the first room that they saw was the greeting hall. The receiving room, a great hall full with soft couches and a warm main fireplace could be caught from the left side of the greeting hall. From the right, a dining area with elaborate tables, carved from stained black wood, and beautiful cabinets with pottery, priceless artifacts and beautiful pictures stood desolate with no company to host. The greeting hall itself had its walls lined with armless couches where guests could catch a quick rest or someplace to sit as they took off their shoes and coats. Walk in closets and coat hangers were waiting to be used and two grand stairways leading to the upper levels were in straight view. Off to the side, a nearly invisible door led down a hall to a quiet study where the blonde would hold extensive phone conferences or would sit as he worked out company procedures, leading his corporation into the new years.
The first level was of courses the only level of the house most people ever saw. Only the few most trusted saw beyond that and even the maids were restricted from the lower levels. They didn't even know of their existence. The second level was mostly just two of the group's bedrooms and a special phone case that was never used. At least not yet. There wasn't much to the second floor, considering that much of the floor had been taken out to make the floor more of an elaborate maze of a balcony.
The third floor was the last three bedrooms and a stairway leading to the helicopter landing on the roof. The landing was carefully hidden and almost non-existent but emergencies had proven to show themselves in these boys lives and it was always better to be prepared then not.
The four walked to the receiving foyer and then to the backyard door. All around the mansion was clear lands. It was built on a rather strategic position, the top of a large hill. About four hundred yard down, enormous trees grew. A grown-in fence around the perimeter. Convenient. Which was the main reason the group choose this particular mansion.
Outside and a couple feet away, the four lifted the hidden entrance to the lower levels. It was a trapdoor, concealed beneath a layer of rather thorny rose bushes. A button placed well inside the thorns opened the hatch and the second boy, the one with the wild dark hair and stormy blue eyes, sacrificed his arm to press the button. The hatch clicked open and all four went down. The first boy was now carrying the girl, his braid swinging quietly with his steps. The second took his arm from the bush, ignoring the deep scratches caused by the vicious plant, and waiting until all were before him as he closed the hatch to its original resting position.
The first of the lower levels was an extensive training ground. There, the fifth and final member of the group hammered himself mercilessly, performing perfected sword swipes that he had preformed day after day for the last fifteen years of his life. He looked up briefly, seeing his comrades enter, but made no other sign of acknowledging their presence until he was through with his exercise.
"Is it finished?" he demanded, wiping the sweat from his face with a damp rag.
The braided boy sniffed and made a deal of plugging his nose. "Jeez, Wufei. Take a shower man! You smell awful."
Wufei made no comment to the statement, his posture declaring him to high of status to resort to name calling. Instead he kept his black eyes focused on the boy he deemed in control of the situation, the one who's stern face stared back at him with the same wither-less determination. He nodded once and Wufei backed off.
"Sally called," Wufei remarked over his shoulder, leaning over to do some cooling down exercises. He touched his toes and then folded his hands to the ground, back straight and knees unbent. "She said that there were some rumors going around about us Gundam pilots."
"Like what?" the brown haired boy with the long bang asked, studying Wufei's exercises with a measuring eye.
Wufei shook his head. "She never told me."
The blonde sighed. "It's probably because out of all of us, only two of us are making any effort to maintain contact with the outside world."
"And who would those two be Quatra?" the braided one asked good naturally. He had taken the time to lay the girl down on a resting mat, making sure she was comfortable.
Quatra smiled. "I would say that it would be me and Wufei. Me, because I take care of my colony and Wufei because he's a Preventer."
"What about Trowa?" the other pressed. He stood and stretched his back, grinning at the cracking sounds as his spine popped. "He's always hanging at the circus."
Trowa shook his head, his right eye showing momentarily from beneath his long bang. "I'm not doing anything to help anyone other then myself, Duo. Wufei is protecting the Earth and Quatra is protecting his colony, and consequently, the rest of the colonies."
Duo pouted. "What? Don't they count what I do as helping the colonies?"
Quatra smiled. "I don't think that many people would be concerned if your scrapping shop suddenly went out of business, Duo."
Wufei had finished completely and had already disappeared to the showers. The last man, the silent one, leaned against a wall and watched the scene played out. If truth be told, his entire attention was focused on the drugged girl on the floor but enough of his brain was also following the conversation. So when Duo asked him if he saw where Wufei went, he didn't hesitate to give the answer. Not that anyone expected less of the perfect soldier.
Quatra sighed loudly as the conversation dwindled off into silence and took a good look at the girl the latest mission had been focused on. She was a skinny thing, skin gaunt against her bones and rib cage nearly poking through. She wore what was the typical outfit from where she'd been picked up at. A revealing, tight skirt almost short enough to be considered underwear. Her shirt was more like a miniaturized sport bra. All that it covered was the absolute necessities and left nothing for the mind to wander about. Her long legs were covered with panty hose and had calf-high black boots. Her skirt and shirt were both deep red, almost crimson in color but her makeup was glittery yellow. Quatra supposed it was the latest trend or something like it. He stood. "I'll go get some clothes to change her into," he announced as he left. No one commented. Most likely because there was nothing to say.
A freshly showered Wufei walked in a few minutes later, still toweling his damp hair. He noticed the faint twitch of the girl's hand and prepared another shot of the sleeping drug. The silent one caught his attention without a sound and shook his head no. Wufei nodded and replaced the bottle of sleeping potion to its spot.
Quatra was soon back and Duo helped change the girl as modestly as they could. They placed an overlarge T-shirt over her own and slipped a pair of the smallest pants Quatra could fins over her panty hose. Her skirt and boots, as well as the large silver earrings and the several plastic bracelets she wore, were taken off and placed nearby. Quatra also made a fuss of cleaning her sweat dirtied face with a white rag that promptly went into the garbage, dark with sweat, grime, bad makeup and whatever else she had picked up. By then, the others had picked up on her waking consciousness and watched her apprehensively.
She stirred and the first thing she did was stretch. Like a cat after a long nap, her long arms and legs stretched out as far as they could go, raising her hips above the ground. She yawned largely, tongue curling up in her mouth. Her arms then separated and, in a show of range, stretched further before she folded them back to her sides. Even her toes stretched out and Duo quietly thought that if she had claws they would be out as well. finally, she curled up into a little ball and rolled over to her side. She was asleep again. She had gone through the entire exercise without opening her eyes.
Quatra scrunched his face up in confusion and Duo laughed to himself at the strange behavior of their newest acquaintance.
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"Have you found her yet?"
*Negative. She's gone. No one has seen her since Saturday night.*
"Where did they see her? Did you check there?"
*Yes. It was at…at the club she liked to go to. Andrew-I mean, David said he saw her come in, even served her a few drinks. He never saw her leave but she was gone by closing.*
In her room, a dark haired priestess groaned. She was really just in training but seeing as there was no one else to watch the temple, she'd personally upgraded her status. A hand went to her forehead, rubbing the sides of her eyes as though the motion would stop the headache raging in her head. For the last two weeks, her leader and friend had been pulling tricks on them, disappearing without a trace and then reappearing without a word. Each time, she was totally wasted and the last time so much so that her life was at stake. Today was Monday, getting close to four in the afternoon. And the priestess was getting frantic.
She held up her watch-like communicator and looked at blue haired girl, about her own age and who's face looked just as worn as she assumed hers did. "Well, just take a break Amy. No use in exhausting ourselves."
*Alright* the girl responded and the communicator went out.
The priestess pressed another button on the device and a new face appeared. I didn't want to do this…
The new girl looked tired, not the kind from tearing yourself apart looking for a lost friend but the good kind you get from a good workout. Her brown hair was pulled into a pony and she looked surprised at seeing the priestess.
*Ray! What are you calling me for?* Her tone was defensive, almost offensive. Her eyes were narrowed in the same feeling.
"Lita, there's a problem."
*Yes, well deal with it yourself. I told you, I quit. So stop trying to contact me-*
"Lita, Serena's gone. She's been missing for two days. No one's seen her." Lita's defensive glare faltered a bit and Ray pressed on. "Look, I know you're still mad about…about that but we need you. We need everyone. The Scouts are falling apart and Serena's already hurt. She was hurt before you and Mina left. You guys…" Ray gulped and changed her guilt trip plan as she saw the glare gather strength again. "She needs you guys. She needs all of us. Especially now."
Lita seemed to consider it. Her eyes hardened. *All right. I'll be back tomorrow. But only for Serena. As soon as I find her, I'm leaving.*
Once more, the watch went blank. Ray let out the breath she had no idea she was holding and just sat there in her room, not wanting to make the last call she knew she needed to make. The fire tried to comfort her. It cast its flames towards her, warming her and lighting the room at the same time, giving her the strength to push the last of the symbols on her communicator.
Almost as soon as she pressed it, a blonde haired girl with a deadened face appeared. A face deadened by sorrow and unbearable pain. Immediately, Ray regretted pushing the button and had the girl's eyes not lit up, even dimly, at seeing Ray, she would have thrown the watch into the fire.
"Mina…"
*Ray. How are you?* Mina's voice had a forced cheerfulness to it that even Mina could hear but Ray supposed it made her feel better, just trying to act like nothing was wrong.
Ray took a deep breath. "Mina, something's happened." Mina's unfocused eyes began to focus on her and Ray could feel the powerful gaze, even through the communicator. "Ser-Serena's disappeared and-"
As soon as the words left her mouth, the reaction happened. Mina's jaw went slack and her eyes went blank as a self-loathing expression took over her once-beautiful face. Ray wanted to slap herself. She could almost hear Mina's thoughts, tearing her up inside. Oh god, I failed again. I failed, what a miserably bitch. I-I can't stand this. I don't deserve this. Gods, I failed so bad. So bad. So bad. I failed. I failed. I failed…But Ray didn't have to hear them. She'd heard Mina muttering them after the first accident and that was enough. "Mina-"
Mina winced at Ray's voice, almost like she'd been physically slapped. *I-I'll come as soon as I can. I'm so sorry, Ray. So sorry-*
The communicator went dead and Ray had to resist the urge to throw herself into the flames. After a moment, she decided she didn't have to. The flames that threw their warmth to her, the warmth she had thought to be comforting, now felt like the intense heat of a witch burning. The great fire wasn't trying to help her, it was trying to destroy the foul demon in its presence. Ray cried and wished for Serena, Mina, any of her friends- even Luna or Artemis. A twang cut into her heart and she sobbed. She wanted Luna but that was impossible. Because of her. No. No! Luna! Please, please don't. I failed you. I failed you. I failed all of you so bad. So bad. So bad.
And just like all her nights, the nightmares took over and the burning fire would have been a blessing to the twisted memories that burned a hole through her broken soul.
---
She could feel that night, over and over again. Remember every detail,, from coming home that day, laughing with friends, to feeling the new enemies. Seeing the new enemies.
They had looked like normal people and they were- in the basic sense. Unfortunately, none of the Scouts were prepared to fight. When the future King Darien had said the world slept for a thousand years, he did not mean literally. He meant that there was no magic, no surprises. Even their magic, even the magic from the Silver Crystal was canceled. Darien had thought that it would be a good practice, living a life without magic. It would allow them to understand what the people they protected felt like.
But the Scouts never realized how dependent they were on their transformations until they were attacked.
She shuddered and tossed in her sleep, muttering and crying out.
The people had attacked with such speed, swiftness and accuracy, inhumane came to mind. There were two of them, both matured men. They'd laughed at Lita's clumsy attempts to retaliate and even more when Darien told Serena to run. Luna and Artemis joined the fray and worked rather well. Artemis tore up one of the men's arm badly, to the point where it would have to be removed to save his life. The cat didn't stop there. It moved to the same man's eyes, rendering him helpless with a swipe of his sharp claws.
Luna had tried to do the same but only managed to tear off the other's nose before the men got smart.
The bullet shots rang through the air. Both cats fell to the ground, dead bodies rising up dust with the final *thump*. Darien and Lita attacked with furious agony at seeing the two advisors, dead and broken. The sirens went off and the men started hurried up their jobs, knocking out each of the Scouts one by one. Not before Darien permanently hunched one over and not before he turned around and gave one more shot out.
Darien felt no pain. He'd been shot directly between the eyes.
She couldn't take it anymore. But she didn't have to see him long. Her eyes snapped wide, irises widening to the point where she could no longer see and her neck snapped back on the pavement.
Her cries grew louder and louder, tears now pouring through her sleeping eyes. And then she awoke to a house of strangers.
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