Chapter 2
Crawford slammed the antiquated book down on the banquet table before him. The dim dining hall was empty, except for Crawford and the table with piles of run down books. He glanced at his watch: almost two in the morning. He needed to hurry and find the answers to Aya's mystery before other groups grew wise to what Crawford was up to; his big concern was Rosenkreuz.
Yes, he was creating a new world for psychics, but other people of Talent would not necessarily appreciate his vision. Some groups relied on maintaining the status-quo so they could hide in the shadows and live ordinary lives. Crawford had scorn for their attitude. He wanted his place in the sun, with Mundanes where they belonged, under his foot. He'd heard the arguments before, about operating behind the scenes and being protective of their community, but none of them had ever swayed Crawford's idealism.
Crawford was confident he'd spot trouble before it got out of hand, but the direction of his plans had changed. He needed to quickly, efficiently plan for that change. His left eyelid twitched slightly, signifying that he was getting exhausted and a premonition was in the works.
He picked up another book only to have the words blur and the image of Weiss come to his head. They would be invading soon. He put the book on the table and stood up. He stretched and took a deep breath to help shrug off grogginess.
:Schuldig.: Crawford formed the thought clearly. He felt the buzzing presence grow in his awareness. :Get ready. Weiss is about to show up in the rotunda. Summon the others and meet me there.:
Farfarello moved quietly along the thick wood beams of the rafters. He crouched down when he spotted movement below in the inky darkness of the rotunda. His amber eye narrowed and tried to spot the one Weiss, in particular, that had incurred his wrath: the Siberian.
He could hear the German yammering within his skull, gloating over his plans for Weiss. He wished Schuldig wouldn't be so vainglorious at a moment like this; it could bring about wrath and judgment, more so than what would be their due in their afterlives.
Finally, a gleam from three blades tipped off Farfarello. His blood felt blazing hot, coursing faster. He remembered the nun's eyes as she died. He took the blame for her death off his shoulders and laid it at the Siberian's feet. He'd killed everyone who had dared to love him, and he had killed Sister Ruth, too. But if it wasn't for Siberian's interfering, she may have escaped his curse.
He leaped from the rafters, blade held high, aimed for where Siberian's head should be. His knife caught air. The Weiss scattered from him as Schuldig, Nagi, and Crawford each appeared from different entrances. He wasn't concerned with his Schwarz teammates; he was concerned with killing Siberian.
The young man looked fierce and held up his hand bristling with blades. The torment on Sister Ruth's face as she insisted she was his mother gnawed at his mind and spirit. The reality of her connection to him, as his mother, and that she would risk death for that connection tormented him. He would release his rage at this Weiss. He wanted to see someone else experience pain, living in the dark world where he existed.
"Die!" Farfarello shouted at him and lunged with a blade towards Siberian's heart. Siberian dodged, but did get nicked on the upper arm. The young man's face grew furious.
"You'll pay for what you did to Sister Ruth!" Siberian shouted, glowering.
"It was your meddling fault! You brought that curse down upon her. Now you'll be the one who will pay. With your blood."
Farfarello split his concentration for a moment at the sound of one gun shot. He glanced to see Crawford had the Abyssinian subdued with a smoking gun. Farfarello smiled slowly; he noticed Schuldig was choking the Balinese from behind with his own wires. The man's face turned a delightful shade of purple.
"Omi!" the Siberian shouted out, eyes focused on something over Farfa1rello's shoulder. He turned in time to see Nagi had slammed the Bombay against the polished marble pillars. The child-assassin crumpled to the floor; Nagi, standing over him, frowned.
Farfarello felt a slight push to one side as Siberian went to attack Nagi. Siberian lifted his glove towards him. Farfarello was quicker. He overtook Siberian just as Nagi became aware of the attack, and it was Farfarello's knife in his back that stopped Siberian rather than a telekinetic shove.
He glanced at his blade and back at the bleeding Siberian laying at his feet. Nagi's voice saying, "Thank you, Farfarello," dampened his rage some.
He just nodded at the youngster and turned when Crawford called out, "Farfarello, throw them in the sea. Weiss will never plague us again. Nagi, help him. Schuldig, you go check on our guests and make sure the perimeter is secure. We have more potential enemies, now."
With that, order, one that brought him glee, he grabbed the Siberian by the ankle and said, "You first."
The light weight woman in his arms didn't stir, not once, as he took her down to the lower chambers. He was grateful she had passed out at the mere sight of him. He had contacted Crawford before he killed her, but Crawford wanted to interrogate her tomorrow morning. He suggest putting her in the cell with the girls to see what she may let slip without torture or mind reading.
No matter, he'd drag the information from the woman by telepathy if she didn't cooperate with them. He tried a slight push into her unconscious mind, but she was suffering from poor nutrition, as he had expected by her appearance. Her mind was in such a deep sleep, he wouldn't be able to get much.
He arrived at the cell door and had one of the guards unlock it. He walked in to see Sakura huddled in a corner, arms wrapped around her legs. She looked the very picture of misery. Aya-chan was comforting Tot on the other side of the room. Tot, when she saw Schuldig, changed from tears to a snarl.
"Where's Tot's Nagi?"
"Upstairs, helping Farfarello take out some trash." Schuldig didn't bother repressing a smarmy expression as he laid the young woman on the floor. The girls all scrambled over to the unconscious woman.
It was Sakura that leaped to her feet and bellowed, "What did you do to her?"
Schuldig grabbed Sakura's jaw, hard, and squeezed. "I did nothing. She was in the wrong place. Crawford will talk to her tomorrow and decide if he should let her go. I doubt it, though. He's not in a pleasant mood."
He squeezed harder still when she grappled with his wrist, trying to make him let go in vain. Aya-chan shouted, "Stop that!" It was Tot that jumped at him, out of nowhere. Schuldig barely had time to shove Sakura to the floor and block Tot's roundhouse kick. He mentally chide himself for getting distracted with Sakura when Tot was still a decent fighter.
He tuned to her addled brain, reading another roundhouse kick, but this time he caught her ankle and shoved her to the ground. He swiftly placed his white, leather shoe on her neck and pressed down. Tot squirmed still, trying to fight him, claw at his leg, as her face grew red.
"Stop, please," Sakura said, on her knees beside him. She grasped his hand tightly just as Aya started to hold the thin woman protectively. The two identical girls had the same tears. Schuldig was amazed it was all for Tot. It was such a short amount of time.
He lifted his foot off Tot's neck. She sat up, furious, but restraining herself now as she rubbed her neck. It wasn't pity that moved him or outpouring of emotions from Sakura or Aya. He yanked Sakura up by her arm and smiled.
"I want you to remember this favor I did for you one day. It'll cost you." Her eyes widened and her skin grew pale. Panic set in so hard that her thoughts were nothing more than a mass of half formed sentences. He slowly let her go and turned to leave.
A chuckled escaped him and he looked over his shoulder. "By the way, ladies. Don't count on Weiss rescuing you. I know that's what you hoped, but they're at the bottom of the sea, now. They attempted a pathetic rescue and it cost them their lives." He flashed them a smile as the girls grew grave.
Sakura's tears sprang forth as she wailed, "Aya!" He heard her stutter, "Aya, you can't... please, no..."
Schuldig started to leave, listening to where Sakura's thoughts were headed. The images of the dead Abyssinian now floated in his mind. No more than fish food in Sakura's darkest, fevered imagination. He threw back his head and laughed. "My dear, Miss Sakura. It wasn't as grim as all that. One gun shot is all it took."
:Schuldig, stop playing with our guest and get back to work,: Crawford chided, overly snappish. He sighed and said, "Good night, ladies," and left.
To be continued.
