Bloody Wings
I don't own any of these characters, well,at least not anyone from Weiß. This was for a fanfic challenge, and I'm sorry if I offended anyone with the whole heaven thing, really. ::Claps hands together:: Gome gome.
Beta-reader needed, please help me!

Icya



Prologue

Four wounded Angels with lost memories would fall into the mortal world, given their wings and eternal life for a touch of human sorrow.

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Four Guardian Angels were sent down to Earth long ago from the stars of Heaven to watch over the human world. These four-winged young men answered to their call and came down to the human world, but found nothing as they had expected. Sorrow, pain, hatred filled that world of mortals while happiness and love disappeared into nothing more than just a thought. The four Angles decided that they would stay, and as what God had wanted, bring justice and love back into this Sinned place. The 'mortals' did not know their existence within the land of humans, the ones that they called earthlings. Over the time of longer than forever, their memories of Heaven were forgotten and was replaced with Earth, their thoughts of Angels turned to humans. Soon, the four strongest of all Angels were forgotten by the Heaven, and by themselves.

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Blood dripped from the walls of crimson, covered up the once snow white paint that had stayed for as long as anyone would remember. Little flowers of scarlet darted onto the white-gray marbled floor, like the end of a summer drizzle, filled in the cracks as the tiny rivers flowed towards the steps.

A body hung on the ceiling by the neck with a thin black rope, furred rope like a bat wing. His wings were torn off, feathers covered with blood stuck onto the now red shirt, shaped the man's body. Dry blood tracked down the mans cheekbones from the two black holes where the eyes should be as the mouth hung open, showing the half cut off tongue. A golden cross struck through his lifeless body from the chest with the other end appeared through his back. He doesn't bleed any more, then again, who will if they had no more blood left to shed?

More bodies lied on the marbled floor, on the ceiling, next to the columns. Blood-spattered deaths without a sound of terror, no, death touched them before the terror, but after the pain.

A man with long silver hair blinked; straighten the white shirt he wore as he stepped forward towards the only one that was left. The white robe like clothe wrapped around his body as golden edges shaped the cloth, he grinned as he fingered the handle of his sword that hung on his belt. The man before him had put up a good fight, some interesting things could happen when someone knew that he would die, and yet, still fight to protect what ever it was they were trying to protect. This man would be the case.

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Rashun breathed heavily, held up the sword and placed it with the tip touching the floor. Fresh blood dripped from the corner of his mouth and he felt his organs tossing and turning. That hit he took was more than he could take. He felt his fingers shaking, not from fear, but from the lost of power, in fact, holding up his sword seemed to be the only thing he could do at the moment.

Midnight blue bangs feel into his tired pale green eyes, too tired that they blur on him ever now and then. His wings covered with blood, his blood, and the blood of the ones around him. Who is he? The question ran through Rashun's mind like an echo.

The man standing before him smiled. "Now, about my question." He grinned. "Have you decided to answer me or not?"

Rashun swallowed. His answer would mean his life, and he knew that perfectly. But, would it be right to tell him? Tell him and betray his friends? Tell him and let all the others die for nothing? "No, I have no answer." He whispered, and yet, his voice came out louder than he had expected.

"Is that so?" The white haired man asked, shaking his head as strands of silver darted from one place to the other. "Then I'm sorry, I believe death would be most welcoming to you eternal-life creatures."

Rashun's grip on his sword tightened.

"Oh, I believe you would want to know my name before you die." The man smiled. "Oh yes, I believe you would want that. But, I think my name would frighten you, for I will hurt God."

Green eyes widened. "Y. . . you're . . " Rashun's voice was stopped by a hand to the mouth, with fingers pressed harshly onto his jaw. The sword in his hands dropped to the ground as his head came in close contact with a brick wall, knocking the stars to appear in front of his eyes. He wanted to shake that hand off, but he barely had enough energy left to move.

"Yes, that would be it." The silver haired man nodded. "I was wondering why no one here had known my name."

"You are a sin. What are you doing here in the six Gate of Heaven?" The Angel couldn't even hear his own voice over the hand of the Fallen One, but, he had to get it out, he just had to.

"Still throwing your pride at me huh?" He grinned, placed one hand onto Rashun's right wing. "I am a sin." He smiled.

Sheet of black darted through the hall of the Gate. Wings, black wings deep as the color as the night.

The Angel blinked, he had let a Demon into the gate, and he had failed as a Guardian.

"Don't worry about the gate thing, I'm not here for that." The Demon grinned, revealing his milk white teeth with the two extra long ones. Fangs. "I would worry about yourself at the moment."

Rashun felt unbearable pain on his right shoulder and felt his bone crack. Pain struck him from every direction, yet cleared his mind, made him perfectly aware of the blood that slid down his back. He bit his tongue to keep from screaming as blood filled his teeth, running down his throat. Then, the numbness came. His eyes blurred again as everything turned from images into a swirl of colors. The pain on his left shoulder jerked him from the blurs and forced him to face that. . . that Demon, once more.

The silver haired 'man' licked 'its' lips, then traced 'its' tongue along 'its' teeth. "Wingless Angels are mortals, and mortals can be killed." 'Its' eyes even smiled. "Right? My dear wounded Angel?"

Rashun stared at the Demon's left hand, where a pair of snow white feather wings had laid it selves. Wings that dripped with fresh blood. Wings that were stilled attached to part of a white piece of object, his shoulder bones.

"Good night, Guardian." The Demon smiled and Rashun felt his jaw cracked from the force of 'its' hand. Fingers pressed down on the jaw made breathing hard, the Angel shook his head violently to escape from the torture with his hands grabbing onto the iron like grip 'it' had on him. He felt himself weakening, and with a loud snap and pain of a million needles, his jawbone shattered into millions of pieces.

"Have a nice dream." 'It' drew out the sword with one hand as the Angel's body landed onto the floor with a loud thud, and struck it through his heart.

Rashun felt pain as the blade sliced through his body, and then, the pain was gone. He knew that death, after so many years, had finally come for him. Hot tears burned his eyes as an image of a child appeared before his eyes. A little girl with black hair and pale blue eyes that sat on a piece of cloud while playing with her wings. She turned to him and smiled.

'Cera, I'm sorry, Daddy won't be back any more.' Rashun felt his head hitting the ground with a soft sound, and darkness replaced it all.

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The silver hair man pulled the sword out of his victim and placed it back to its sheath. He felt great when he stabbed his blade within that Angel's heart, it was even better than what he had expected.

"Are you done yet?" A voice called out as a man with a large white suit walked out of the shadows. "We need a lot more information and have only so much time."

The long silver haired man nodded and followed as two more joined him, one with a child like face, and the other with a look that could kill.

The child closed his eyes. "When would we get revenge on the four Angels?" He asked as the four men walked down the stairs side by side.

The other man smiled as he pushed up his glasses. "Soon Nagi, soon."