Woo-hoo! Goodness this is a long chapter. I hope y'all will enjoy it.
Note the rating change. This chapter starts the NC-17 portion. Why?
Because Schu meets Brad, that's why.
Disclaimer: This stuff belongs to KT and Prj W. Have fun!
Two Years Later: Berlin, Germany
Crawford picked up the 9MM and aimed at the target down the range. The tiny little red bull's-eye was in his sites. He pulled the trigger.
Dead center of the red dot.
"You're a crack shot young man," came a voice from off to the side.
Crawford turned to see an instructor walking up to him. "Oh, Danke, Herr Doktor," he said to the man as he set the pistol on the table in front of him.
The man smiled at him. "I want to talk to you later about your recruiting assignment you will have to complete soon. I have an appointment I have to attend in half an hour, but if you could stop by my office, say about 3:00, I would like to talk to you about it."
"Yes, of course. Three o'clock then."
"Gut. I will see you later." The Doctor turned and walked away from the firing range.
Crawford let out a puff of air that flipped his bangs up and around. He has been trying to put off this recruiting assignment that every 4th year student has to do. He didn't want to do it.
He gathered his stuff and walked back to his dorm room. When he was promoted to a 3rd year student last year, at first it didn't seem too bad. He got this nice big dorm room all to himself, and the 'curriculum' seemed to get better. In this past year and a half he's learned several fighting techniques including using his precognitive powers to see what his opponent will do next. It's come in very handy. They've taught him all sorts of planning strategies and spying strategies and computer skills and he couldn't even rattle off everything he's learned.
But the one thing that hit him the hardest was when they taught him how to kill. He could still remember that one-day.
He was still at 3rd year status and him and a bunch of the other 3rd year students were ushered into a large room. They all stood behind a table and on the table were guns of many sorts. He just figured that it was just another firing exercise. The instructor walked in and started talking. "As initiators of the new world order, you will be required to do away with anything or anybody that stands in our way and the way of truth." The man raised his hand and a door at the far end of the room opened and several people were shuffled in. They all stood at the far end against the wall. The man continued. "These people are not part of our cleansing of this world. They are your enemy and an enemy must be destroyed. That is your job. That is your calling. If you cannot destroy that which taints this world, than you are a taint as well and you will be destroyed along with these.things"
He wanted them to do what? Crawford looked down at the people standing down against the wall. All of them scarred out of their wits. He even recognized a couple of them, new students that disappeared months ago. He didn't know what to do. He knew that he eventually would have to kill somebody, but he never imagined that it would be quite like this. Being forced to kill in this way, hell this was an execution of people who didn't deserve it, not in this manner.
He heard a shot and saw one of the people fall. Everybody turned and looked at the one guy on the end holding the gun up, his hand shaking.
"Congratulations son, you are worthy of bring back the natural order of things," the instructor praised him.
Crawford looked straight at the person in front of him. He focused on her barely hearing the other gunshots periodically going off to the sides of him. He thought about what the instructor had said about an enemy having to be destroyed. He found it ironic that these Este agents were teaching him to destroy, a skill he will use to oppose that which made him. If he didn't kill that girl down there, than they would kill him and he would never be able to oppose them later.
Crawford picked up the gun in front of him and aimed at the girl. "Remember," the instructor called out, "For the good of the world."
"Yes," Crawford thought, "For the good of your downfall." He pulled the trigger. No thoughts, no emotions, nothing but necessity guiding the bullet into the girl's chest.
Later that night, he remembered crying to himself that night, the first time since he could remember in a long time. The shock of taking another life hit him harder than he ever thought it could. He laid there in his bed, curled up, shaking. He felt so sick that night.
The experience made him stronger he thought, though it was just one more thing he now hated about Este and himself.
********************************************
Three o'clock rolled around and he went to the Doctor's office. The door was ajar so Crawford popped his head in. "Allo?"
The Doctor popped his head up from behind his desk. "Ah, Crawford! Come in, come in. Is it 3:00 already? Gee, time sure does fly. Sit, sit."
Crawford walked into the office and sat down in the high winged-back chair in front of the desk. The Doctor looked to be somewhere in his mid sixties. He had heard the man was a former Este agent and was put in this position because he was getting too old for the field. If it wasn't for that fact, Crawford suspected that he could get along with the man considerably. The Doctor reminded him of an air headed professor you would find at some university back in the States. The one with the mis-matched socks, backwards tie and rather unorganized. He seemed so kind, yet his life was serving these people. Guess you can't tell a book by its cover.
The Doctor sat down; a folder in his hand. "Well, anyway, I wanted to talk to you about your recruiting assignment that you will have to be doing soon. As you already know, every 4th year student has to recruit one person to follow in our footsteps leading up to the rebirth of the world. Well, I have just the person for you, so I hope you didn't have anybody I mind." He started to flip through the papers in the folder. "We have had our eye on this one for a long time. About, ummmmm, I think about 5 or 6 years now."
He handed the folder to Crawford who took it and started flipping through the papers and photos. The Doctor continued, "He is a very strong telepath, which is why we've had so much trouble getting to him. We've tried to get a hold of him while he was young and put him into our juvenile facility down in the sub-basement. But he's eluded us."
Crawford looked at one of the pictures. It was a black and white photo of a young man standing next to a building of sorts. He didn't seem too old, maybe 17 or 18. He was so bad at telling peoples' ages. He was a thin fellow, with wild dark hair and piercing eyes.
"For awhile we lost him, but our agents have found him again. He works on the other side of the city as a prostitute and goes by the name of Schuldig. He's very sociable so it won't be hard getting close to him."
"A guilty prostitute, huh?" Crawford thought to himself with a slight smile. He flipped through a couple of the other photos. Aloud, "If he's so sociable, then why is it hard to get a hold of him?"
The Doctor propped his head up with his fist, "Well, because he's a strong telepath. He can get into peoples' minds without them knowing and tell them to do things. Which is why anyone who's gone after him have either lost him entirely, ended up two towns away, or have woken up in a hotel room the next morning."
Crawford blinked at this notion. Mental controlling? This guy was strong. No wonder Este wanted him.
"This, of course, is where you come in. You have become quite famous at being one of very few people who can block telepaths from your head. So, since he is the strongest telepath that we've encountered, why not send the strongest telepathic-blocker we have? I have already squared it away with that advisor lady of yours.umm.what's-her-name."
"Fräulein Menschenfeind?"
"Ja, that one. I really do hate that woman. But anyway, she said it was a wonderful idea. She has every confidence in your abilities, and quite frankly, so do I."
Crawford closed the folder and stood up. "Well, I will be happy to recruit this young man for you and for Este. I will do my best. When should I start?"
"Tonight would be great. The sooner the better."
"Danke Herr Doktor." The Doctor nodded and Crawford left the room. He headed to the mess hall to get something to eat.
Crawford actually kind of felt relieved a bit. He was having a hard time with this because he didn't want to put anybody into this place. He hated it. Why would he want to put somebody else through it? But now he was handed somebody to choose. He didn't choose this person himself, so it isn't his fault. That's how he had to look at this. He is just the middleman, the bystander, albeit, not innocent.
***************************************
Crawford stepped out of the front gates of Rosenkreuz. It had been two years since he'd been outside of these gates. His first instinct was to run as far away as he could. But he would be shot there if he ran. If they didn't kill him there, they would hunt him down and kill him elsewhere. So he didn't run. He started to walk down into the city to catch a cab to the other side of Berlin. There he would kill again. Not necessarily taking a life literally, but even figuratively, it would hurt.
He caught the cab and headed to the bar where he would find this, Schuldig. He thought about how he was going to do this. He decided to go with the strategy his ex-mentor had used on him. It worked then; it would most likely work now.
The cab stopped in front of the bar. Crawford got out, paid the fair and walked to the front door. He heaved a sigh and walked in. Cigarette smoke and alcohol hit his nose with a vengeance. The smell nearly knocked him out. Just then, a woman came up and put her arm around Crawford and in a flirty tone said to him, "You looking for a good time stranger?"
Crawford froze. Think about what you came here for. "Umm.you wouldn't happen to know a man that goes by the name of Schuldig?"
The woman took her arm off of Crawford and looked at him disappointed. "Oh. Too bad. Schudig is over in the corner," she pointed to the far corner of the bar.
It was hard to see through the smoke, but he just make out a group of men sitting around a table, steins in hand, laughing to each other.
Crawford headed over to the table. He stood there, but the men didn't even seem to notice his presence.
"Which one of you is Schuldig?" he asked the table.
One of the men said to him, "Well Sir, we're all a little guilty in some way." All the men laughed.
This annoyed Crawford. "Let me rephrase that, which one of you goes by the name of Schuldig?"
"Who wants to know?"
"I'm a man with an offer for such a person." Crawford thought he recognized which one of the men was his target, so to speak, but he waited for him to say something.
The redheaded man asked him, "What kind of an offer is it?"
Crawford looked at him. "Well, if we could talk in private, I will let you know."
The men all started to look around at each other. The redheaded man stood up. "Well, it is my night off, but for a pretty face like yours, I'll make an exception."
Schuldig gulped down the last of his beer and walked over to Crawford. "Well, are we going to go?"
Crawford started out and Schuldig followed. The two men walked out of the bar. Crawford was thankful to get out of there. He felt he was going to have to take five showers just to get the smell off of him.
"Well, where did you have in mind? I know this great hotel a couple of blocks away."
"Right here will be fine," Crawford said motioning to an alley.
Schuldig stopped. "An alley? You know, I have a little more class then that and I thought you did too. But then, I am always up for strange and exotic places." Crawford started down the alley.
Schuldig followed him. He didn't know what to think of this guy. He couldn't read his mind at all. It was just like hitting a wall. Granted, it's not as if he had to tell this guy what to do, since he seemed willing to pay him, although, Schuldig was curious about the alley.
"Right here is fine," Crawford said.
Schuldig looked at him "I'm not going to have to lie on the ground, cause I know what has been on there, and that's just nasty."
"No, you aren't going to have to lie on the ground."
"Oh good." Schuldig pushed Crawford against the wall and planted his lips on Crawford's neck. He slowly moved up along his chin and over his cheek.
Crawford stood stalk still. The man smelled like smoke, booze, and who knew what other kinds of narcotics. Schuldig was moving down to his chin. As long as he didn't kiss him on the lips.
Schuldig liked the way this man smelled.like honey. His skin was soft and tasted good. He moved down his neck and started sucking on his Adams apple.
"I hear you are a man of many talents." Crawford began.
Schuldig pulled away long enough to say, "I like to believe so, and so do many other people." He started to unbutton Crawford's shirt and move his lips down to his chest.
Crawford was getting kind of nervous now. "I also hear you are a very strong telepath."
Schuldig stopped. He pulled his lips away from Crawford's skin and slowly stood up to look Crawford in the eyes. He squinted his own. "Who are you?" he asked in a very defensive tone.
Crawford relaxed a little. "Well, you can call me Crawford. I was sent here to tell you that you have been chosen to help me and others like you to bring about a new world order. You possess the ability to bring down the filthiness of this world and bring back the original chaos."
Schuldig blinked. "Oh, one of you. I thought I lost you guys for awhile."
"We need you. Este needs you." He was so good at talking shit.
"And if I don't want to come?" Schuldig backed away from him.
"Well," Crawford began, "You do have a choice of course. I'll give you until twelve-noon tomorrow to decide. If you show up here and decide to join us, well good. If you show up and decide not to join us, I will kill you. If you don't show up at all, I will hunt you down and kill you."
Schuldig stared at him. He couldn't read Crawford's mind so he couldn't tell if he was bluffing or not. He looked like he was telling the truth.
Crawford walked past him and out of the alley. "Bis später, Schuldig." He disappeared from Schuldig's sites.
Two Years Later: Berlin, Germany
Crawford picked up the 9MM and aimed at the target down the range. The tiny little red bull's-eye was in his sites. He pulled the trigger.
Dead center of the red dot.
"You're a crack shot young man," came a voice from off to the side.
Crawford turned to see an instructor walking up to him. "Oh, Danke, Herr Doktor," he said to the man as he set the pistol on the table in front of him.
The man smiled at him. "I want to talk to you later about your recruiting assignment you will have to complete soon. I have an appointment I have to attend in half an hour, but if you could stop by my office, say about 3:00, I would like to talk to you about it."
"Yes, of course. Three o'clock then."
"Gut. I will see you later." The Doctor turned and walked away from the firing range.
Crawford let out a puff of air that flipped his bangs up and around. He has been trying to put off this recruiting assignment that every 4th year student has to do. He didn't want to do it.
He gathered his stuff and walked back to his dorm room. When he was promoted to a 3rd year student last year, at first it didn't seem too bad. He got this nice big dorm room all to himself, and the 'curriculum' seemed to get better. In this past year and a half he's learned several fighting techniques including using his precognitive powers to see what his opponent will do next. It's come in very handy. They've taught him all sorts of planning strategies and spying strategies and computer skills and he couldn't even rattle off everything he's learned.
But the one thing that hit him the hardest was when they taught him how to kill. He could still remember that one-day.
He was still at 3rd year status and him and a bunch of the other 3rd year students were ushered into a large room. They all stood behind a table and on the table were guns of many sorts. He just figured that it was just another firing exercise. The instructor walked in and started talking. "As initiators of the new world order, you will be required to do away with anything or anybody that stands in our way and the way of truth." The man raised his hand and a door at the far end of the room opened and several people were shuffled in. They all stood at the far end against the wall. The man continued. "These people are not part of our cleansing of this world. They are your enemy and an enemy must be destroyed. That is your job. That is your calling. If you cannot destroy that which taints this world, than you are a taint as well and you will be destroyed along with these.things"
He wanted them to do what? Crawford looked down at the people standing down against the wall. All of them scarred out of their wits. He even recognized a couple of them, new students that disappeared months ago. He didn't know what to do. He knew that he eventually would have to kill somebody, but he never imagined that it would be quite like this. Being forced to kill in this way, hell this was an execution of people who didn't deserve it, not in this manner.
He heard a shot and saw one of the people fall. Everybody turned and looked at the one guy on the end holding the gun up, his hand shaking.
"Congratulations son, you are worthy of bring back the natural order of things," the instructor praised him.
Crawford looked straight at the person in front of him. He focused on her barely hearing the other gunshots periodically going off to the sides of him. He thought about what the instructor had said about an enemy having to be destroyed. He found it ironic that these Este agents were teaching him to destroy, a skill he will use to oppose that which made him. If he didn't kill that girl down there, than they would kill him and he would never be able to oppose them later.
Crawford picked up the gun in front of him and aimed at the girl. "Remember," the instructor called out, "For the good of the world."
"Yes," Crawford thought, "For the good of your downfall." He pulled the trigger. No thoughts, no emotions, nothing but necessity guiding the bullet into the girl's chest.
Later that night, he remembered crying to himself that night, the first time since he could remember in a long time. The shock of taking another life hit him harder than he ever thought it could. He laid there in his bed, curled up, shaking. He felt so sick that night.
The experience made him stronger he thought, though it was just one more thing he now hated about Este and himself.
********************************************
Three o'clock rolled around and he went to the Doctor's office. The door was ajar so Crawford popped his head in. "Allo?"
The Doctor popped his head up from behind his desk. "Ah, Crawford! Come in, come in. Is it 3:00 already? Gee, time sure does fly. Sit, sit."
Crawford walked into the office and sat down in the high winged-back chair in front of the desk. The Doctor looked to be somewhere in his mid sixties. He had heard the man was a former Este agent and was put in this position because he was getting too old for the field. If it wasn't for that fact, Crawford suspected that he could get along with the man considerably. The Doctor reminded him of an air headed professor you would find at some university back in the States. The one with the mis-matched socks, backwards tie and rather unorganized. He seemed so kind, yet his life was serving these people. Guess you can't tell a book by its cover.
The Doctor sat down; a folder in his hand. "Well, anyway, I wanted to talk to you about your recruiting assignment that you will have to be doing soon. As you already know, every 4th year student has to recruit one person to follow in our footsteps leading up to the rebirth of the world. Well, I have just the person for you, so I hope you didn't have anybody I mind." He started to flip through the papers in the folder. "We have had our eye on this one for a long time. About, ummmmm, I think about 5 or 6 years now."
He handed the folder to Crawford who took it and started flipping through the papers and photos. The Doctor continued, "He is a very strong telepath, which is why we've had so much trouble getting to him. We've tried to get a hold of him while he was young and put him into our juvenile facility down in the sub-basement. But he's eluded us."
Crawford looked at one of the pictures. It was a black and white photo of a young man standing next to a building of sorts. He didn't seem too old, maybe 17 or 18. He was so bad at telling peoples' ages. He was a thin fellow, with wild dark hair and piercing eyes.
"For awhile we lost him, but our agents have found him again. He works on the other side of the city as a prostitute and goes by the name of Schuldig. He's very sociable so it won't be hard getting close to him."
"A guilty prostitute, huh?" Crawford thought to himself with a slight smile. He flipped through a couple of the other photos. Aloud, "If he's so sociable, then why is it hard to get a hold of him?"
The Doctor propped his head up with his fist, "Well, because he's a strong telepath. He can get into peoples' minds without them knowing and tell them to do things. Which is why anyone who's gone after him have either lost him entirely, ended up two towns away, or have woken up in a hotel room the next morning."
Crawford blinked at this notion. Mental controlling? This guy was strong. No wonder Este wanted him.
"This, of course, is where you come in. You have become quite famous at being one of very few people who can block telepaths from your head. So, since he is the strongest telepath that we've encountered, why not send the strongest telepathic-blocker we have? I have already squared it away with that advisor lady of yours.umm.what's-her-name."
"Fräulein Menschenfeind?"
"Ja, that one. I really do hate that woman. But anyway, she said it was a wonderful idea. She has every confidence in your abilities, and quite frankly, so do I."
Crawford closed the folder and stood up. "Well, I will be happy to recruit this young man for you and for Este. I will do my best. When should I start?"
"Tonight would be great. The sooner the better."
"Danke Herr Doktor." The Doctor nodded and Crawford left the room. He headed to the mess hall to get something to eat.
Crawford actually kind of felt relieved a bit. He was having a hard time with this because he didn't want to put anybody into this place. He hated it. Why would he want to put somebody else through it? But now he was handed somebody to choose. He didn't choose this person himself, so it isn't his fault. That's how he had to look at this. He is just the middleman, the bystander, albeit, not innocent.
***************************************
Crawford stepped out of the front gates of Rosenkreuz. It had been two years since he'd been outside of these gates. His first instinct was to run as far away as he could. But he would be shot there if he ran. If they didn't kill him there, they would hunt him down and kill him elsewhere. So he didn't run. He started to walk down into the city to catch a cab to the other side of Berlin. There he would kill again. Not necessarily taking a life literally, but even figuratively, it would hurt.
He caught the cab and headed to the bar where he would find this, Schuldig. He thought about how he was going to do this. He decided to go with the strategy his ex-mentor had used on him. It worked then; it would most likely work now.
The cab stopped in front of the bar. Crawford got out, paid the fair and walked to the front door. He heaved a sigh and walked in. Cigarette smoke and alcohol hit his nose with a vengeance. The smell nearly knocked him out. Just then, a woman came up and put her arm around Crawford and in a flirty tone said to him, "You looking for a good time stranger?"
Crawford froze. Think about what you came here for. "Umm.you wouldn't happen to know a man that goes by the name of Schuldig?"
The woman took her arm off of Crawford and looked at him disappointed. "Oh. Too bad. Schudig is over in the corner," she pointed to the far corner of the bar.
It was hard to see through the smoke, but he just make out a group of men sitting around a table, steins in hand, laughing to each other.
Crawford headed over to the table. He stood there, but the men didn't even seem to notice his presence.
"Which one of you is Schuldig?" he asked the table.
One of the men said to him, "Well Sir, we're all a little guilty in some way." All the men laughed.
This annoyed Crawford. "Let me rephrase that, which one of you goes by the name of Schuldig?"
"Who wants to know?"
"I'm a man with an offer for such a person." Crawford thought he recognized which one of the men was his target, so to speak, but he waited for him to say something.
The redheaded man asked him, "What kind of an offer is it?"
Crawford looked at him. "Well, if we could talk in private, I will let you know."
The men all started to look around at each other. The redheaded man stood up. "Well, it is my night off, but for a pretty face like yours, I'll make an exception."
Schuldig gulped down the last of his beer and walked over to Crawford. "Well, are we going to go?"
Crawford started out and Schuldig followed. The two men walked out of the bar. Crawford was thankful to get out of there. He felt he was going to have to take five showers just to get the smell off of him.
"Well, where did you have in mind? I know this great hotel a couple of blocks away."
"Right here will be fine," Crawford said motioning to an alley.
Schuldig stopped. "An alley? You know, I have a little more class then that and I thought you did too. But then, I am always up for strange and exotic places." Crawford started down the alley.
Schuldig followed him. He didn't know what to think of this guy. He couldn't read his mind at all. It was just like hitting a wall. Granted, it's not as if he had to tell this guy what to do, since he seemed willing to pay him, although, Schuldig was curious about the alley.
"Right here is fine," Crawford said.
Schuldig looked at him "I'm not going to have to lie on the ground, cause I know what has been on there, and that's just nasty."
"No, you aren't going to have to lie on the ground."
"Oh good." Schuldig pushed Crawford against the wall and planted his lips on Crawford's neck. He slowly moved up along his chin and over his cheek.
Crawford stood stalk still. The man smelled like smoke, booze, and who knew what other kinds of narcotics. Schuldig was moving down to his chin. As long as he didn't kiss him on the lips.
Schuldig liked the way this man smelled.like honey. His skin was soft and tasted good. He moved down his neck and started sucking on his Adams apple.
"I hear you are a man of many talents." Crawford began.
Schuldig pulled away long enough to say, "I like to believe so, and so do many other people." He started to unbutton Crawford's shirt and move his lips down to his chest.
Crawford was getting kind of nervous now. "I also hear you are a very strong telepath."
Schuldig stopped. He pulled his lips away from Crawford's skin and slowly stood up to look Crawford in the eyes. He squinted his own. "Who are you?" he asked in a very defensive tone.
Crawford relaxed a little. "Well, you can call me Crawford. I was sent here to tell you that you have been chosen to help me and others like you to bring about a new world order. You possess the ability to bring down the filthiness of this world and bring back the original chaos."
Schuldig blinked. "Oh, one of you. I thought I lost you guys for awhile."
"We need you. Este needs you." He was so good at talking shit.
"And if I don't want to come?" Schuldig backed away from him.
"Well," Crawford began, "You do have a choice of course. I'll give you until twelve-noon tomorrow to decide. If you show up here and decide to join us, well good. If you show up and decide not to join us, I will kill you. If you don't show up at all, I will hunt you down and kill you."
Schuldig stared at him. He couldn't read Crawford's mind so he couldn't tell if he was bluffing or not. He looked like he was telling the truth.
Crawford walked past him and out of the alley. "Bis später, Schuldig." He disappeared from Schuldig's sites.