Chapter Thirteen

Maka's POV

"It's not like Lord Death to send agents out to kill a student like this…" Stein's glasses reflected the light into Maka's eyes, making her blink.

"We need to go out and find Crona before the agents do." Maka said, clenching her gloved fists. "Once we've done that, then we can find out what's going on and try to sort this mess out."

"I agree. I also believe that it would be better to hide Crona once we've found him, at least until I can talk my father into not locking him up or killing him on sight." Kid agreed, the young shinigami busily cleaning up the last of the bloodstains in his room.

"The hardest thing is going to be figuring out where he is, though. After all, he's far enough away that Maka can't find his soul wavelength when we drove through the desert. Just to explain exactly why that's such a big deal, she was able to faintly feel his wavelength all the way up at the school from our apartment when she really strained before he disappeared." Soul put in, sitting on the edge of Kid's bed. "He could be just about anywhere in the world now, and Lord Death has way more resources that'll help him find Crona than we do."

"Fortunately, I am able to access most of those same resources; anything that Father's spies or agents tell him, I can probably find a way to overhear." Kid tugged the cuffs of his suit jacket tight, double-toned amber eyes serious. "Not only that, but once we find out where Crona is, I can find a mission for you that is within a ten mile radius."

"That way the school pays for your travelling expenses… Very smart." Stein nodded his approval, leaning up against the doorframe.

"So, what do we do right now?" Soul asked, frustration in his voice.

"Nothing. We can't do… anything. Not yet." Maka hated the words that were dropping from her lips, but she spat them out nevertheless. "Without knowing where to find him, going out to look for Crona would be a waste of time and resources."

"Wait, we can do something…" Liz got up from bleaching a blood stain, blue eyes furrowed. "Hey, Kid. Didn't you say that your father said that the main reason that he was having agents act in a hostile manner towards Crona was because of something that some supposed witness said?"

"Not in those exact words… but yes, I believe that what this mystery witness said directly influenced my father's choice in putting Crona's soul on his death list."

Maka began to pace, seeing what Liz was getting at. "So, if we find this witness, we should be able to convince him or her to tell the truth about what happened."

"What if they're being blackmailed to do it by one of the townsfolk?" Stein inquired, his head tilting to one side as he carefully watched Maka.

"Why would that even come up?" Liz asked, shocked.

"Because of Crona's past as Medusa's evil pawn - the Demon Swordsman - Lord Death's acceptance of him into the academy twice didn't set well with the city folk. I know that he's gotten hundreds of complaints from not only the citizens of Death City, but also Crona's fellow Maister and Weapon classmates." Stein shrugged, looking unconcerned. "I would be extremely surprised if Crona didn't receive a multitude of similar letters."

"He did," Maka confirmed, only to have Kid shake his head.

"He still does. I caught him dumping a sack of envelopes just the other day. When I pressed Crona, he allowed me to read one. The one I read was very aggressive in its suggestion that he leave the Academy, or else."

Maka frowned, upset that Crona had been keeping that to himself. One day when she had come to visit him, Crona had been sitting in the corner of his room, crying into a pillow. When Maka asked him what was wrong, he had directed her to a very large pile of letters, all demanding that he leave the academy. She had asked him to talk to Lord Death about having his mail screened, and had thought that either he had, or that the letters had just stopped coming, since she had never seen another letter since that day.

Apparently he hadn't.

"Well, this is not cool. So we've basically got most of Death City as suspects who want to get rid of Crona? This sucks." Soul grouched, falling back onto Kid's bed.

"What exactly was Crona accused of, again?" Maka asked, feeling that she was right on the verge of something helpful… There was something just out of reach in her mind, something obvious that was going to pick at her until she got it.

"From what I can remember, the mystery witness said that Crona was the person who attacked Spirit, then later added a virus to some of my father's tea and switched out the pills that you," gesturing toward Stein, "brought to Father, before attempting to kill Spirit again."

Maka paled as Kid spoke, suddenly realizing what her mind had been trying to tell her. "Hey, guys. I'm gonna go grab some lunch, anyone want anything?"

"No, thank you though."

"I already ate."

"I'll take a sandwich, if you don't mind."

"Yeah, me too."

"Nah. You want me to come with you?" Soul asked, flashing her a small jagged grin.

"No, I'll be back soon." Maka trotted out of the mansion and headed back towards the Academy, hoping that her suspicions were wrong.

Crona's POV

Crona slowly gained consciousness, fighting his rising panic as he remembered what had been going on the last few times he regained consciousness. He would wake up, then one to three boys would come in; Crona wasn't sure how many there were. He wasn't sure because that while he could see them, they all looked exactly alike… so he didn't know if there were actually three identical kids in the room, or just one but the serum that they kept injecting him with was just messing with his head.

Once however many there were came in, then they would start the pain. It wasn't that bad; Crona had gone through far, far worse, but the sheer length of time that they kept it up would wear down his resistance. The shots- not the sleeping one – weren't too painful, they just made his head go all foggy. It was the electricity that really got to him. The boys would attach wires to his head and wrists, then suddenly his vision would burst with white spots as electricity coursed through his body. After a while it would get worse, the boys increasing the voltage until Crona screamed in agony.

It wasn't like the times when Lady Medusa would have him get captured by her enemies; they weren't asking him questions. It wasn't like when Lady Medusa conducted her experiments either. They weren't stopping to write down what was happening, and they didn't check any charts. It wasn't even like when the bullies at school would beat him up; they weren't beating him senseless, and they weren't hissing at him about what a horrible person he was. Instead, his tormentors almost treated him like he wasn't there, joking and laughing with each other while Crona cried out, torturing him for what seemed like forever before finally letting him slip back into slumber with a prick of a needle.

That was another thing; they never let the pain get bad enough that he fainted… they danced along the line, but they never let him pass out until they gave him the injection.

This time was different; there weren't any tormentors there yet. However, how long this would hold true Crona didn't know. He yanked at his bindings uselessly, only managing to bruise his wrists, ankles, waist and neck. "D-dang it…" Crona growled, forcing himself to struggle harder.

The door handle rattled, making Crona flinch. He thought fast, letting his head flop down against his chest and feigning unconsciousness. The door opened and two people walked in; one had heavy footsteps - probably a large man- while the other person's footsteps barely registered at all on the tile floor, the soft sounds that reached Crona's ears telling him that that person probably was either dragging their feet or limping.

"I hate doing this. It always seems like an invasion of privacy, you know?" This voice was a weak, tired young girl's voice, probably the owner of the soft footsteps.

"I understand, but you understand that what Uncle wants, Uncle gets. Think of it this way; if it were left up to him, the people you do this to would be dead for working for our enemies." Crona remembered this voice… The deep tones belonged to the guy who had injected him with the sleeping potion the first few times he had been here, before the multiple boys had arrived to fill most of Crona's waking hours with pain.

The girl sighed deeply, coming to a halt directly in front of Crona's chair. "Is this really all that different? I mean, look at him. He looks half dead to me already, and this is just from the preparation." A petite hand rested on Crona's forehead while a second pressed against the center of his chest; directly above where Maka always said his soul was. "But I suppose that the sooner I get this over with, the sooner Father will cease this torture."

Crona couldn't help himself and let out a shocked gasp as something… prodded, at his soul, a light, almost airy presence that was utterly unfamiliar. He squirmed in his restraints as the prodding sensation grew stronger and stronger, now almost feeling like something was hammering at his very being. He hadn't known that anything could directly attack his soul; this was unbelievably uncomfortable and highly frightening. Crona had spent the last few months of his life trying to purify his soul with the help of his friends, so the thought of these people doing something to it was terrifying.

Crona stiffened and yelped as the sharp jabs suddenly pierced his soul, something wafting into it with the sensation of cool steam. It felt like his soul was being soaked by this unknown soul from the inside out.

The hand against his head pressed in harder, the girl's skin warm against his skin. He winced as a splitting headache ripped through his head with the force of a sledgehammer, the pain almost melding with the uncomfortable sensation of…whatever was being done to his soul.

"Pox and fever…" The girl's voice was horrified as she spoke, her hands beginning to tremble. "This poor boy…"

"What's wrong? Did Cerberus go too far?"

"No further than Father instructed, but this boy… Crona… he's gone through worse pain than this in his life, far worse." The hands were removed, the girl stepping a few steps back. "I hate myself for saying this, but… His mind and soul will have to be far weaker than even this, seeing as how I not only have to reshape-"

"Hush, let's continue this conversation outside."

The footsteps quickly exited, the door slamming shut behind the two, leaving Crona shaken and very worried.

Maka's POV

Maka strode through the halls and corridors of the DWMA, her pace getting slower and slower as she neared the medical wing until she finally came to a dead stop right in front of the hospital door. "Damn it." Maka rested her gloved hand against the wall, unable to continue. What if her suspicions were right?

She leaned forward to press her forehead against the back of her hand. 'Crona… what happened to you?' she wondered, her eyes closing tightly. 'If what you said was right…' If what Crona had said was right, then his disappearance was probably her father's fault. Maka knew that she should be in the room already, demanding an answer from Spirit, but…

It was one thing to half-heartedly dislike her father and just let him think that she hated his guts, the only thing standing between them being Spirit's irritating and embarrassing habit of still going to Chupacabra. She hadn't completely gotten over the fact that he had cheated on her mother, but she had grudgingly forgiven him a long time ago. However, if he had actually betrayed the Academy and Lord Death by poisoning the cheerful headmaster, then had blamed it all on Crona…

Maka's hand clenched into a fist at the thought, anger and worry burning hand in hand through her mind. "Papa…" She wanted nothing more than to just turn around and pretend that everything was fine. Spirit was out at Chupacabra, sobbing about how his family didn't love him anymore to one of the various hookers there, and Crona was just hiding somewhere, trying to convince his Weapon partner to keep the origins of where he had gotten his various injuries hidden from his friends.

Maka had a feeling that Crona's big secret was that he was still being bullied; it was just the sort of thing that the meek boy would feel bad about sharing. Not because he was embarrassed or afraid of his tormentors, the normal reasons for not letting others know, but because he didn't want his friends feeling bad about the fact that he was getting hurt in the school that was supposed to be a safe haven of sorts. Maka was unfortunately not just guessing on this.

"Why is it that you were the one who reset my alarm clock so we got to class late, you were the one who tried to cheat on our test and you were also the one to get into a frog gut flinging contest with Black Star, and yet I'm stuck here helping you clean?" Maka sent a dirty look Soul's way, rolling her eyes in exasperation as she saw that he hadn't even noticed; the albino boy was half-heartedly swishing a mop around on the floor, spreading bleach water over the cold stone.

"Black Star's the one who started the frog fight, but Mifune had already set up an extra tutoring session with him before class. So, he and Tsubaki had an air tight excuse to get out of punishment duties for now." Soul shrugged casually, apparently not bothered by his blue-haired friend's antics. "By the way, the whole reason that I delayed your alarm was so that you could finally get some sleep. You stay up half the night after your nightmares, finally falling asleep around dawn only to get woken up to go to school. I figured that skipping one class wasn't too big of a deal in return for you getting the stick out of your rear that you get when you're exhausted. And I did not cheat!"

"Really." Maka stopped wiping off the desk tops to glare flatly at her Weapon partner, not appreciating the reminder of her night terrors. "So, trying to copy off of Crona is something that's perfectly acceptable, hmm?"

"Come on! I just accidentally saw his paper, and he just happened to have the right answers. Which, just so you know, I did come up with on my own." Soul wiped a bead of sweat off of his forehead before getting back to work.

Maka rolled her eyes again, unconvinced that his statement was true since Soul had spent the last few days playing video games instead of studying, the fact that even she had just barely gotten an A on the test while he and Crona had been the only two in the class to receive an A+ not helping his case either.

"Speaking of Crona, where in the heck has he been hiding? He always disappears immediately after class, and you can't find a trace of him until the next day."

"I think that he's been in his room. At least, that's where he's been every time I go to look for him."

Soul paused and flopped into a nearby chair, letting his mop lean against Stein's desk as he propped his head up with his hands. "Hey, why don't you look around for him now? You know, use your soul wavelength and all that."

"Alright." Maka closed her eyes and sent her Grigori soul wavelength out in a wide beam. It immediately picked up on Soul's soul; the hum that the ball of energy let off sending shivers down Maka's spine; a constant, tiny version of Soul's special musical resonation. Further out, she ran into the souls of Professor Stein and Miss Marie. Stein's soul was a contradictory unto itself; both calmly logical and wildly insane, unable to feel and yet filled with affection towards his friends and students with a little bit of uncertain love towards Miss Marie. Miss Marie's soul felt like a feather brushing against sensitive skin; the unusual sensation making Maka's lips twitch upwards while, deeper down, the female teacher had a kind, generous center.

Maka pushed her soul out even further, this time coming across Kid, Liz and Patty. They must have been headed back from a talk with Lord Death, because Kid's soul had the tinge of irritated amusement that it always had after speaking with his highly exuberant father. Liz's soul was full of weary good humor, while Patty's bubbled and sparked with excitement, both so similar and yet so different that it hurt Maka's head to concentrate on their souls for too long.

Moving on, she finally found the soul that she had been searching for. When she had first seen Crona's silver soul she had thought that it was as fragile as a thin glass egg, but as soon as she had embraced it, taking part of it into her own soul, she had realized that he had a truly strong energy. However, the strength in his soul was boxed in and kept at bay by the years of fear, pain and self-hatred that Medusa had forced onto him; leaving him a weak tool for his mother's amusement. In any case, ever since Maka had first resonated with Crona after she had broken through his weak mental defenses, wiping away the circle in the sand that 'protected' his mind against others, Maka had found that she was able to connect deeper with him than anyone other than Soul.

She touched Crona's soul with hers, making a face as the normal feelings of despair, loneliness, fear and self-hatred washed around her with the sensation of sticky oil. Then she jolted, eyes flying wide open as she ran for the door. Maka heard Soul ask her what was going on as he followed, but her attention was on finding where exactly Crona was right now. Sharp pain ripped through Crona's soul, a short flash of anger and madness quickly drowned out by fear and a noticeable attempt on Crona's part to calm back down. The pain never stopped, just getting worse and worse as Maka got closer, until both she and Soul heard cruel laughter echoing through an empty wing of the Academy.

"Come on, Kishin! Attack me back!"

Thud thud THWACK!

"No wonder Albarn was able to defeat the last one, if they're all this pathetic." More laughter followed the comment, along with breathless cursing and a wet cough. "Guess what? We don't want Lord Death's pet demon here, whether or not the headmaster's broken your claws and filed down your fangs."

Maka rounded the corner and froze in horror, the scene in front of her worse than she had thought. Eight Maisters and Weapons stood in a wide circle, the Weapons having Manifested their various limbs while the Maisters held regular weapons. They ringed two figures; Crona was barely able to stand on his feet, blood running down his cheek from a long split across his brow, while the other boy smirked at his obvious discomfort. "Get the freak, Damen!" One of the Weapons cheered the boy in the center on, waving his spiked iron ball of a fist; he was apparently a Mace.

Damen cracked his neck as he slowly swaggered over to where Crona was, the lavender-haired boy just watching his approach with a tired look in his eyes- the same emotion wafting through his soul. The bully lashed out a brutal side kick, sending Crona flying back toward the circle of students. Maka expected them to scatter, but instead, they lashed out with their various weapons, Crona smashing to the floor under their assault. Ragnaroc had been cursing their attackers as loudly as he could, the small Weapon forced to grab Crona's hair in a death grip to stay upright as his Maister was flung around. "R-Ragnaroc, would you p-p-please go back into my blood?" Crona's soft voice was full of pain, and as Maka watched in frozen horror, he was racked by a painful-looking cough; his entire thin frame shaking at the motion. Black liquid dripped from his lips, slowly oozing down the side of his mouth to leave a small puddle on the floor.

"Monster." Damen's words were almost cheerful as he grabbed the hand of one of the Weapons, the girl Manifesting into a two tonged blade. "You'd think that all of our little lessons would have gotten the fact into your pink head that no one wants you here, but apparently we're gonna have to get a little more… convincing." The bully strode over to where Crona was slowly struggling to his feet, shoving the Weapon hilt deep into Crona's side. Black blood poured from the wound as Damen ripped the Weapon back out, coating the white floor in ink black ooze before Ragnaroc healed the injury.

Maka was still frozen, her mind screaming at her to move and go help Crona while her body just ignored all of her brain's commands. Crona giggled, making Maka stiffen in a mixture of fear and worry, the sound full of insanity. "Did you know that my blood is black?" Then he paled and shook his head with a wince, his voice shaking but free of madness as he continued. "P-please, st-stop!"

"Hear that? The demon wants us to stop hurting him!" Damen leaned in close to the other teen, an ugly sneer splashed across his face. "I wonder how many of your victims begged you to stop."

At the unfair comparison between the two boys, Maka's paralysis snapped, allowing her to run forward. "How dare you?" The cold growl of her voice made all of the tormentors jump and turn towards her, all instantly paling at being caught. Crona glanced up, Maka feeling a spurt of intense relief and happiness at seeing her splash through his soul before it changed to intense fear, his eyes widening in terror…for her.

"M-Maka, run!"

"Yeah, I'd listen to the freak. Run away and pretend that you never saw us, and we'll give you the same courtesy."

Maka felt herself shaking with anger at their cowardice. "I don't think so."

"All right." Damen smirked, nodding at his fellow bullies. "Can't say we didn't warn you." He swung his Weapon at her face, intending to leave a mark.

CLANGGGG!

Everyone did a double take; Crona somehow having managed to get to his feet,get across the room, get Ragnaroc to come back out in Sword form, and block Damen's Weapon, all in a mere couple of seconds. Damen yelped and jumped back, no longer so cocky now that his former 'opponent' was now ready to fight back. "Are you alright, Crona?" Maka asked worriedly, seeing how the swordsman was holding his side instead of his arm like he usually did.

"I-I'm fine." Crona said dismissively, his gaze flicking between Damen and Maka. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

Crona turned back around, his grip on Ragnaroc tightening. "Ragnaroc, Scream Resonance."

"It's about damn time, too." Thick red lips popped out of the black and silver blade, pursing for a minute before the Weapon hiccupped and screeched at a painfully high level. "Guh-goop gupi! EeeeeYAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!"

Everyone, Maka included, flinched and winced. Maka felt Crona's soul grow tense and pained against hers, his soul's energy shifting uncomfortably. The boy himself closed his eyes, his black-streaked ivory fingers pressing tighter against his side, suddenly screaming in a horrific harmony with his Weapon. His soul trembled violently; flickering from his gentle icy blue soul to an X marked red soul to a pale blue winged soul, before finally settling on an unnatural violet soul. Maka watched as violet light poured out of Crona and into Ragnaroc; the Sword growing huge, wicked looking jags on his blade as the dark purple energy rippled through him.

Maka and all of the bullies clapped their hands to their ears to close out the horrible sounds that Crona and Ragnaroc were making, Maka straightening in quite a bit of relief as Crona's unusually colored soul reached out and sheltered her from their attack, lightening to almost the same pale shade of lavender as Crona's hair as his soul melded with her Grigori soul. She watched as the bullies slowly began to crumple and fall to the ground, scarlet leaking from their ears. When the last one had fallen Crona bit off his cry with a whimper, Ragnaroc following suit a minute later as the large pair of lips pulled back into the blade with a sigh.

"Are they alright?" Maka asked, feeling mixed feelings on whether or not to hope that they were. She still wasn't sure if she was glad as Crona nodded.

"Y-yeah, as long as Ragnaroc qu-quits screaming after a few m-minutes, it only knocks p-p-people out. We also d-didn't scream at our h-highest pitch, so th-that helped too." Crona shrugged and immediately collapsed, his grey eyes rolling up in his head as he lost consciousness. Maka barely managed to catch him before he hit the floor again, his lithe frame lighter than she would have liked.

"Does he have another injury that you haven't been able to heal?" Maka asked Ragnaroc, the Weapon giving her a dirty look before smirking and disappearing into Crona's bloodstream again.

"Why don't you look and see for yourself?"

Maka frowned, confused by the sudden glint of mischief that had appeared in the Weapon's x-ed out eyes and his words themselves. Had he intentionally left a wound open to hurt his Maister? It didn't make any sense and didn't fit in with the Sword's usual behavior towards Crona, but why else would he have said something like that?

Maka gently lay Crona down on the floor and began to unbutton his uniform shirt to check for wounds, but just as she had undone the first few fasteners and had gone to pull Crona's shirt open, Crona's eyes shot open and he turned pale white. The boy yelped and backpedaled as best he could, yelping again as he accidentally slammed into a wall, one hand whipping up to hold his shirt closed. Maka blinked a few times as Crona hastened to re-button his shirt, wondering why on earth she was feeling embarrassed.

"Are you okay? Is there still an open wound somewhere?"

Crona frowned, looking confused as he finished buttoning his shirt back up, his hand then running over the pulled up straight collar of his uniform top to make sure that it hadn't fallen down. "N-no; Ragnaroc h-healed them all."

"Then why did you faint?"

Crona flushed and ran a hand through his cropped lavender hair, a few strands sticking up in odd patches. "I d-dunno…"

Ragnaroc poured out of Crona's back, the small Weapon sneering as he leaned on Crona's head. "Um, you don't think having the shit beat out of you might be a cause, do you? You must have taken one too many blows to the head; you're being a fucking moron." Ragnaroc laughed loudly, yanking on Crona's hair roughly. "Though, come to think of it, you were actually like this before today."

"Ragnaroc…" Crona sighed heavily as he slowly got to his feet, wincing and putting a hand to his head.

"But I suppose that these jack-asses could still have caused your idiocy. You could have just gotten whacked wrong on one of the other times they cornered us."

Crona paled again, dark grey eyes flicking over towards Maka. "Ragnaroc!"

"How long have you been getting bullied?" Maka asked, a growing feeling of dread creeping up on her. Her fears only grew as Crona looked at the floor, the ceiling, the walls; anywhere except directly at her. "Crona, how long?"

"A c-couple of w-weeks." Crona's grip moved from his side to his arm, long fingers wrapping around his biceps tightly. "It's n-not a big deal, really."

Maka felt her face slowly beginning to turn red as she tried and failed to keep her temper under control. "Yes, this is a big deal. How could you not tell me? Or Lord Death? Or Professor Stein? Or Soul, or Kid, or… somebody? Anybody? Did they threaten you?"

"Yeah." Crona shrugged, not sounding all that worried about their threats. "But I j-j-just didn't w-want to drag any of y-you into this m-mess. I've already b-been putting you all th-through a lot of w-worry and t-trouble because of what I've d-done in my p-past and who I am." He looked at the floor as his eyes darkened. "Besides, I know th-that I don't deserve to b-be as happy as I am; n-not after the things that I've d-done. So, I l-lke to th-think of this a-as penance, of s-sorts; p-payment for my l-life here."

Maka grabbed his shoulders, looking him straight in his dark cobalt eyes. "Crona, never think like that. You don't need to pay penance, at least not like that. Getting yourself hurt doesn't help anyone; not you, not them, not your friends, not even the people that Medusa forced you to kill. All it does is make you feel bad, it makes them-" waving a gloved hand at the unconscious bullies, "get closer to becoming Kishin eggs themselves, it makes us, your friends, feel awful when we find out that you've been getting beat up for a while in a place that we assured you would be safe, and it does nothing at all for your victims." She sighed deeply, worry for the thin boy in front of her wriggling through her stomach like Medusa's snakes. "If you feel that you absolutely have to pay penance, then volunteer somewhere; help the people that are still trying to finish rebuilding Death City, offer your time at the library, put up food at the local food pantry, go and pick up trash on the streets, so on and so forth. Do something productive instead of destructive to feel better about yourself. Please?"

Crona hesitated before he nodded, Maka letting go of his sagged shoulders to wrap him in a tight hug. "A-alright."

Maka shook her head, caught between amazement at the boy's insanely stubborn sense of protection towards his friends, irritation at his inability to realize that all of his friends hated him being in pain, and hurt surprise that he would have broken his promise to her.

She shook her head, her short wishful daydream cut short by the heart-broken wail from behind the door, reminding her that Spirit was in the hospital, and that Crona was missing. "Why hasn't my little Maka come to see her father?"

"Ugh…" Maka groaned softly, her head falling forward to gently slam against the wall, not looking forward to having to not only deal with asking her father if he had been behind all of the problems at the Academy recently, but also having to do this while he was in one of his clingy moods. "This day just couldn't get any better, could it?"

She straightened and tugged on her gloves, working on getting her emotions as controlled as possible as she made sure that her tie was centered, her jacket was smooth, and her shirt was tucked neatly into her skirt. By the time that Maka's outfit was immaculate, she had sufficiently calmed down enough that her mind was running smoothly once more- not knotted up in worry and fear.

Maka took a deep breath and swung open the door, striding into the medical wing of the Academy with only the barest of hesitations, ready to ask her father several very hard questions.

Crona's POV

Crona howled as electricity crackled through his body, struggling against his restraints hard enough that his wrists were beginning to bleed from where he had scraped them raw. This was the worst torture that he had been forced to undergo so far, having been started off with an injection that had hiked up his sensitivity to pain. It seemed like it had been going on forever, to the point where Crona felt that Lady Medusa's experiments on him had been mere pinches next to this.

He could taste black blood, a nasty mix of copper, oil and molasses, from the throbbing wounds in his cheeks and tongue where his three tormentors had shoved a small spiked ball in his mouth before covering his mouth with duct tape. It was actually still in there, a sharp, heavy obstruction that forced him to keep his jaw loose. That got pretty hard, especially when he was used to clenching his teeth during these sessions.

Crona wasn't used to losing this much blood; it was making him feel nauseous on top of the pain of the actual torture. Usually Ragnaroc stopped any bleeding, but whatever drugs that his tormentors were keeping him on had apparently messed with Crona's Weapon companion pretty badly. He hadn't seen Ragnaroc since that first day, and Crona's blood had been spilling like any other person's… well, other than the fact that it was black, and slightly thicker than normal blood.

"Oy, ya think we're about done yet? We've been at this fer… what? A couple'a hours at the least, right?"

"Sounds about right ta me. I'm kinda bushed out too."

"Nah, let's give it a few more minutes. Ya know the boss likes stuff ta get done right."

The rush of electricity got stronger, Crona having to struggle to keep from letting his jaw snap shut at the white-hot rush of sparks. His cries had long ago turned ragged from screaming so long, the lack of moisture in his throat not helping matters any either. The few times that he had been able to swallow down the pool of blood that constantly gathered in his mouth, he had almost thrown up at the sensation of the slowly moving black ooze sliding stickily down his throat, the dark liquid burning the scratches and raw tissue.

"Come on… Not like he's going anywhere."

"Fine. If yer want us ter get on Highness's bad side, then yer can turn it off."

Crona sagged in relief as the stream of fiery agony finally stopped, barely feeling the prick as one of the other boys injected him through the slowly dimming jolts of scorching sparks, his body still unconsciously jerking in spasmodic convulsions. He welcomed the descent into oblivion, short as it may be, sighing softly as his vision began to darken.

"Oy! Yer get the kid moved over, we'll go out and get some dinner."

"Aw, come on!"

"I'd hurry, didn't you hear? Cook's making steak… first come, first serve. If yer take too long, there might just not be any left fer yer."

"Which'd be a crying shame, fer sure."

"Yer two bite, yer know that?"

"See yer." Two of the boys left, leaving the last one alone in the room with Crona.

Crona vaguely felt the restraints holding him into the chair being loosened and released, a thin arm sliding behind his shoulders to push him forward. One of his arms was draped over the boy's shoulders before the boy dragged Crona up off of the seat, the boy grunting as he took the brunt of Crona's weight. "Dang, yer gonna need ter eat pretty soon. Yer lighter than I am." The boy licked his lips as he half carried half dragged Crona across the room to a strap covered table. "Speaking of eating, I've got hurry this up, or I'm gonna get left eating salad… again. Just cause I'm the runt doesn't mean that I'm a vegetarian."

Crona was unceremoniously dumped onto the table, the boy rushing through the task of fastening the various restraints. He cursed loudly as he twisted up some of the leather straps, having to untangle them before he could go on.

"Ooh… This meat's reeeal good ternight, don't yer think?"

"Oh aye, so juicy and tender. Just the way Junior likes it, isn't it?"

"That's right! Too bad he's taking so long…"

The boy cursed again, louder this time. "That's just plain mean." He groaned wistfully, his tongue flickering out to run across his teeth as he gazed at the door. "I should go out and get some before those two actually do eat all of the meat up; after all you're gonna be out of it for a while." The boy still hesitated, eying the remaining straps, but he growled and darted for the door when more comments on how good the food was drifted into the room.

Crona's last coherent thought was one of irritated anger, frustration at the fact that he was this close to escape wriggling through his mind as he slipped into dark unconsciousness.

A little while later…

Crona bit back a pained yelp as he woke up, his mouth one big raw wound from where the spiked ball had been doing some serious damage. He had a strong suspicion that that was what had woken him up, but for once he was very glad for the additional pain.

His tormentors had apparently not come back to finish tying him down, the restraints for his left arm still lying limp on the table next to him. Crona swiftly undid the straps that ran over his throat, chest and right arm, sitting up to undo the restraints over his legs. Then he yanked the tape off of his mouth, wincing as he slowly pulled his jaw open and wiggled the ball out from where it had sunk into the roof of his mouth, having to quickly bite down on his shirt sleeve to keep from howling in pain. Crona grimaced at the taste of his black blood, his white shirt stained beyond repair with black streaks and spots.

"Ragnaroc!" he whispered urgently, getting to his feet. "R-Ragnaroc, I n-need your help r-right now!" Crona felt butterflies of worry for his Weapon start to flutter around in his stomach when Ragnaroc didn't reply; fear of what his torturers might have done to the rude Sword twisting his stomach into hard knots. He tried to ignore that for the moment, grabbing a scalpel off of the table in the room to use as a temporary weapon as Crona got ready to make a break.

He took a deep breath, walked over to the door, and carefully cracked it open a sliver. Peering out, Crona saw that the small building he was in was at the side of a large cemetery, gravestones dotting the large courtyard around him. No one was in sight but a tall stone wall surrounded the entire cemetery, broken only by a thick metal gate. Crona pulled the door open as quietly as he could, finding when he had stepped outside that the building he had been kept in was actually a crypt. "That's n-not encouraging."

He softly crept across the deserted area, scalpel held tightly in his hand, all senses on high alert for any sound or movement. Crona made it over to the metal gate without incident, flinching as the iron gate swung open with a loud screech. He darted back and got ready to attack the first person to come charging in, waiting in the shadows like Lady Medusa had taught him. Crona didn't know what to think as minute after minute went by without a fuss, the evening light getting dimmer and dimmer as time went by. He slowly padded out, muscles tense as he waited for an attacker to jump him from some hidden spot… But nothing happened. Crickets chirped noisily, cicadas buzzed, and the wind rustled the tree branches and swept through the grass; all perfectly normal noises.

Crona kept his guard up but began to move quicker, boots crunching the grass as he began to jog forward, headed for a wooded area a few dozen yards away. He reached the tree line and began to relax a little, figuring that if anyone was going to stop him, they would have done it by now. Crona trotted into a small clearing, pausing momentarily to catch his breath and figure out what to do next.

"Hello." The deep voice made Crona jump and spin, growing agitated as he searched frantically for the source of the sound. "You're very fast." The voice was familiar; the same voice that had talked to him before the three tormentors had arrived, and the one that had been speaking with the girl. "I wasn't expecting you for another five minutes, at least."

"Y-you were exp-p-pecting me?"

"Yes. I only gave Cerberus a quarter dose of the sedation drug; I figured that you could figure out how to escape the rest of the way on your own. I must admit, I was merely guessing on which direction you would run once you had escaped, but as you can see, it was a successful guess." Crona's gaze snapped over to fix on the large figure that had just dropped out of one of the trees, landing on the ground in a crouch with a huff before slowly straightening. "In any case, I fear that the time has come for me to destroy you."

A brief smirk flashed across Crona's face. "I can't tell you how many times I've heard that… I've hoped that someone would follow through with their threat, but no one is ever able to."

"Well. They're trying to kill you. I, on the other hand, will be breaking you; something for which I wish to apologize to you for from the bottom of my heart." The voice sounded genuinely sorry, making Crona's lips twitch up in a sad smile.

"Don't apologize. You can't break something that's already been broken beyond repair." He brought the scalpel up into a guard position, wishing that Ragnaroc would hurry up and pop out.

"Allow me to introduce myself, since I already know who you are." Glowing orange eyes stared at Crona from the shadows, the figure slowly striding towards him. "My name… is Timor."