Email: Foxneko@aol.com
Disclaimers: Weiss Kruez is not mine. I'm just...playing. It's not like I'm gonna torture them...yet. ^^
Warnings: Make this PG13 for two swear words and a very short situation that is not very appropriate for kiddies.
Notes: italics are thoughts
[ italics ] are dream sequences
// italics // are visions (Bradley-kun!)
Fourth chapter! I dunno if it's IC or satisfactory, but I've been kinda busy...
L'il dragon muse: ::is all bruised from being beat by his accomplice, who had forced him to help her write a research paper:: @.@
Eh heh heh...^.^;;;
[ She couldn't run any more. The soles of her shoes had long ago worn away, and her bare feet were sore and bleeding, leaving an obvious trail. She didn't care. Her clothes were torn, her hair was a mess, her fur was matted, and she was exhausted. Not even the psychotic cackling that echoed around her could make her go another step.
She had backed herself up into a cliff. No trees, no shrubbery, nothing except a giant wall of cold rock. No place to hide. This was it. The end of the line.
She turned around toward the sound of clattering hooves. She didn't know when her hunter had acquired a horse, but that didn't matter now. All that she thought about was her attacker. Her pursuer.
She could not understand it. Never before had she felt fear. What had happened to her? When did she become so cowardly? Faint memories flicked in her mind. Fights she had fought. Fights she had won. How? Why couldn't she remember? Why?! ]
He watched her. Watched her dream. What does a fey angel dream about? God? But why would she dream about God? He was the one who banished her, and He was the one who let his own angel fall into the clutches of His worst enemy. Why would she still pray to Him after all He's done?
She started shivering. It was cold in his cell, and her entire being was wet, except that backpack. Probably water-proof. But she was wet and cold. She's an angel though, so she can't get human diseases...can she?
Why would God let her get sick? Unless...
He strained futilely against his straps. He can't let her die. He won't let her die. Not by God's hands. He won't let Him take her back. No! She was his. His! His to control. His to torture. His dark angel. God can't take her. She belongs to Shinigami. And Shinigami wants to hear her scream. Scream until she cries. Scream until God cries. Scream until the last bit of her soul drifts away from God's reach and into the empty black void.
Scream for me. Cry for me. Bleed for me.
"Get her to the gym."
Crawford watched as Schuldich dragged the thin girl out the door. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he felt something from the young girl, surrounding her like an aura. But he wasn't empathic, he wouldn't know.
Farfarello was watching him. Something was different about the Irish man. His piercing glare almost caused Crawford to shiver. Then the vision hit him.
// She was getting away. Laughing. Laughing at them as she easily ran away.
Farfarello. He was out of his jacket. Hate. His stare was full of vengeance.
She had paled, and was no longer amused. Grim determination. Then she was gone.
Farfarello looked distant. It wasn't over. They would meet again. //
Crawford snapped back to reality. Sweat formed on his forehead. Never before had his visions been so choppy. Never before had his visions been so intense. He had never felt what was going on before.
Farfarello was still staring at him. No matter. What ever was going to happen, he could deal with it. At least he hoped so.
She barely remembered being roughly carried away. They were taking her somewhere. It was big and bright. There was noise...voices. A sharp pain shot up from her chest. Someone had kicked her.
"Get up, girlie."
Her vision was blurry. She could just make out five or six men. Big men. Towering over her. They held things in their hands. Weapons. She stood up, stumbling slightly. The lights were too bright. It hurt her eyes.
"Don't see why the boss bothered to pit us against some tiny girl." A push. She staggered and almost fell. "She can barely stand."
"Orders are orders." Another said.
"Maybe we can have a little fun first, huh?" Someone grabbed her. His hand was halfway up her shirt. Before she knew it, lips pressed forcefully against hers.
This can't be happening. She wouldn't let it happen. A flare of anger sparked within her. There was no were left to run. So she was cornered. That won't stop her.
She bit down hard, causing the man to yelp and pull back. The metallic taste of blood stained her lips. But someone still had a hold on her.
Whack. Her head snapped to the side. A red imprint was left on her cheek.
"Now, that wasn't nice."
She didn't want to be nice. She raised her arm to strike back, but something wrapped around her wrist. It was a chain. Wrapping her other hand around the end of the chain, she pulled. The man on the other end let go and flew over her head, then crashed into some of his buddies.
The cold steel held in her hands seemed to wake something inside her. She could see clearly, could hear the slightest sound, could fight. She swung the chain, knocking the man that held her away. Then, wrapping it around another man's leg, she tugged, sending the man to the ground.
With a slight flick, the chain came back and wrapped around her waist. Three other men advanced. She smirked.
Crawford watched. It was just like his vision. She was fighting. She was winning. She was laughing. He knew what would come next.
"Schuldich, Nagi," He called. "She's going to run away. Make sure she doesn't."
They were puzzled, but didn't question him. They never did.
Now to wait for Farfarello.
Schuldich could not believe it if he hadn't seen it. The once thought weak girl was...to put it bluntly...kicking major ass. All seven men were down in less than three minutes. She stood among the groaning bodies, tall and defiant, as if drawing strength from the air around her. Why would she run when she has beaten them?
The German was puzzled. Suddenly, the girl had stiffened. Her smirk was wiped off her face. He looked out of the corners of his eyes. Farfarello was there. Why would she be afraid by him? Sure, the guy can be freaky and insane sometimes...but still...
Something was wrong. Schuldich knew he could only read minds, but now, the air just felt wrong to him. Tension. Ever since Farfarello had walked in, tension was high. A minute passed by silently with no movement. The Irish man was different. He was grim with a look of mixed emotions swimming in his one eye, something Schuldich had never seen in his fellow assassin.
She had bolted. Damn! She was running before he could do anything to stop her. Nagi had froze for a second before trying anything. Too late. He watched her make an impossibly high leap for one of the open windows. He stared as her head turned to look back while still in the air.
Suddenly, he could see a different image appear faintly. Her black tresses flashed gold, flowing like the sun's rays towards Earth. And atop the golden hair, a set of pointed furry ears. Her skin smoothed over like silk, the dirt washed away. Her clothes morphed from rags to a set of cream-colored tunic and pants. From under the rim of the tunic, poked out a glossy tail, perfecting the creature that could only exist in dreams.
And only a dream it was, as the image disappeared as soon as it had come. She was gone. Like Crawford had predicted. Was she a ghost? A spirit? A demon?
He had found her. After all this time, he had found her. She remembered they had fought before. Always the same. She would run, and he would follow. But who was he? She could not remember any more. Nothing except he had grown more powerful. She'd have to watch out. So for now, she would still evade him. It was not running. No, she was waiting. Waiting for the right time.
'Til we meet again...
...Rowen.
~ Silver Fox ~
