Disclaimers: Not mine. Theirs. *Hee hee* Warnings: AU, yaoi, angst, crossover, lemon, Duo-torture (these warnings are for the entire fic. Warnings before each chapter will tell you what is in them.) ^_~ Important Note: This is a Gundam Wing/ Shivers crossover. Shivers is a computer game if you don't know. For those of you that have played or even already own the game, you have an advantage in this fic, otherwise, I'll try my best to describe what is going on to you peoples who are clueless. (When it comes to Shivers or otherwise. Like me. ^_^;) Also, I added my own twists to the Shivers plot in the interest of adding a little more excitement. *giggle* Don't mind me. I get carried away on the merry-go- round of utter insanity. Whee! Real Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Gundam characters (phooey!) and I don't own nor have anything to do with the game Shivers. I'm not making any money off this fic, so don't bother to sue me, cause I've only got the clothes on my back and I soon might not even have THAT. that is, if I have to continue doing my own laundry for much longer. The prologue and parts of the first chapter of this fic are taken out of the Shivers guidebook. It describes the situation with the Ixupi and I thought it might be helpful for those of you who haven't seen Shivers. ^_^ Extra warning: Spoilers for Shivers!!!!! Pairings: 1+2, 3+4

Shivers Prologue Kitana Bradford Warnings: angst? death

The evening of May 14, A.C. 173 Earth Sphere: Lima, Peru

Jorge didn't like to take the shortcut through Blood Rocks because of all the rumors about the place. He shuddered as he remembered the stories he'd heard about the grave looters found there years ago. It was the evil spirits called Ixupi that had reputedly killed them, spirits that slowly sucked the life from humans and left only the shriveled corpses behind. But he had to take the shortcut. If he was late for dinner again, his mother might forbid him from visiting Maria altogether.

He pulled hard on his burro's halter. Was it his imagination or was Camil balking, too? He'd heard that animals could sense the supernatural..

Just ahead, Jorge could see the huge boulders that the area was named after. It was a bizarre landscape. The rocks were eerily red in a surrounding of otherwise sandy and dun colors, and they were scattered in such a way that one always seemed to be looming just over your shoulder. Strange shadows danced over the boulders, making them look as if they had evil faces concealed just beneath their surface.

Jorge heard a noise behind him and quickly turned, but saw only Camil at the end of his long braided rope. Still Jorge didn't like the fact that the boulders were so big, easily big enough to hide someone.

"Come on, Camil," he said loudly, just to hear the sound of his own voice. "We're almost." As he spoke, he heard the sound again. It was not a noise he'd ever heard before, and he didn't know what to compare it to. It was a whispering, sighing kind of sound, like wind through the trees, but there were no trees here.

"I'm just spooked," he explained to himself, and pulled harder on Camil's rope.

Jorge trudged on through the sandy soil, wishing that he'd left his girlfriend's sooner. Nothing was worth walking through this place at dusk, not even Maria's soft kisses.

"We're about halfway home now," He said to Camil. "We should be home by." He looked up to the sky to gauge the time, when the clouds suddenly darkened. The effect was instant and terrifying. What moments before had been a beautiful sunset glowing like the embers of a campfire was now dark and menacing, like the entrance to a deep cavern. Though there had been no wind all afternoon, dust suddenly swirled around Jorge's feet and he felt a cool breeze down his neck. Or was that the feel of his own hair standing on end?

Jorge paused for a moment, debating whether he should turn around and take the long way home or continue on. He was already halfway there, so it didn't make sense to turn back now. Still, it wasn't wise to be in Blood Rocks so close to nightfall. Not from what he'd heard about the Ixupi.. Supposedly they hid in the elements of the earth and attacked before you had a chance to defend yourself. The death itself was rumored to be long and painful as the slowly sucked the life essence from your body. Jorge took a deep breath, and continued on.

Up ahead, a flash of gold caught his eye. It seemed to come from the base of one of the larger boulders. He stopped to get a better look, but couldn't see anything. His curiosity got the better of him and he moved closer. He had to know what was glinting.

As he inched foreword, the line in his hand grew taught.

"Camil," he half-pleaded, half-ordered, but the burrow's stout hooves were buried in the sand. Jorge yanked on the rope but the stubborn beast wouldn't budge. Even in the dim remaining light, he could see the defiance in the animal's eyes. But there was more than an unwillingness to cooperate in those big, black eyes - there was fear.

Jorge tied Camil's rope into a knot and anchored it under a rock. Turning back around, he could just barely make out where the glinting had come from. In the shadow of a large boulder stood objects he had never seen before. Were they bottles? No, they were too squat to be bottles and far too menacing.

Jorge drew closer for a better look at the strange objects. They appeared to be earthenware pots, with worn engravings on their bodies and lids. There were more than a dozen of them scattered about. It seemed strange to find such ancient-looking pots out here in the middle of the desert. "Is it bait?" he wondered aloud.

Suddenly he had the feeling of being watched and he spun around quickly. No one.

"It's just you and me, Camil," he said to reassure himself. But even Camil was acting strangely, with his ears pinned back against his head, and his nostrils flaring.

Jorge stood still for a moment, unsure of what to do. Then he had a clever idea. He would load Camil with the pots and bring them home to his mother. She could keep one or two and sell the rest to Senior Schwartz, the archaeologist in the next village over. He'd heard that Schwartz paid handsomely for archaeological finds, and a dozen unbroken pots was definitely a find! That would make up for him being late. What a good idea. But he would have to hurry.

Jorge started run toward the pots when all of a sudden he tripped and fell flat on his stomach. He felt something sharp in his chest and wondered for a moment if he'd been shot. He sat up quickly, his hand to his chest. No blood. He looked around him. No one. It was just his own nerves, he told himself. He started scrabbling through the sand to see what he had hit.

All of a sudden, Jorge fell back and his mouth opened in an instinctual scream. In his hand was a skull, its bleached eye sockets staring up at him blindly. It must be one of the looters he'd heard about Jorge couldn't get his body to move, couldn't force his hand to drop the skill. Instead he sat there transfixed, noticing every frightening detail - the jagged crack in the cranium, the broken jaw. He thought of how he was just a skull, too, easily broken, a mere bag of bones and water held together by the tenuous thread of life.

Suddenly a dark shadow passed of over Jorge. He felt a chill down the back of his neck and his heart began to slam uncontrollably against his chest. Camil brayed loudly and began to rear, pulling hard against the rope that tethered him. Jorge tried to turn around to reassure Camil but his body felt strangely stiff. Though he couldn't turn to see what was behind him, he knew it was close, close enough to brush the hairs standing on his back. Pulling air in and out of his lungs became more and more difficult with each breath. He tried to release his grasp on the skull yet his fingers would not budge. He realized that he was immobilized, as if in the unshakable grasp of some greater power, some evil power. It could only be the dreaded Ixupi..