Dream of Crimson – Part VII

By Vikki

Disclaimer: This does not belong to me. Oh ye of the scary teeth, please do not sue this poor American!

Flame Policy: I'll send you to an alternate universe – where anime doesn't exist! Bwahahaa!

* * *

I awoke to the sound of someone screaming in agony. My own body was wracked with pain, and for one very short, horrible instant, I thought the high-pitched cry was my own before I realized it was Stacey's voice.

I was lying on my good shoulder, slumped against the ground; vaguely I was aware of warm liquid soaking my shirt. I tried to remember what had happened in my last few moments of consciousness. I was shot … blood. Stacey was drinking my blood! I shuddered and my torso blotted thought for a moment with its protest. I stifled a moan and tried to lie motionless despite my quickening breath and slight trembling. It took most of my strength to suppress a rising desire to cough.

The screaming had not stopped; rather, it was a continuous, unbroken wail, as if Stacey didn't even have to breathe. Now frightened, I cracked my eyes open and tried to see what was going on.

Stacey was laying in a supine position only a meter or two away, back arched and eyes wide, her entire body rigid. Her mouth was open wide in continuous cries. Pierre was hovering, blue eyes haunted and angry at the same time. "Stacey, calm down! Answer me!"

But the vampire did not calm down. In fact, she began to convulse, twisting onto her side and writhing. She looked right at me and I stiffened instinctively, but her eyes were blank and unseeing. Her screams ebbed, but the convulsing worsened until it was all that the werewolf could do to hold Stacey down.

This continued for a short while until the convulsing slowed and Stacey started to sob great tears of blood, coughing. Pierre knelt next to her and asked quietly, "Stacey?"

It was clear that Stacey was coming back to her senses - her eyes slowly focused, right on me. I shut my eyes again and tried not to breathe. "Hunter blood," she said slowly. "I … I am poisoned."

Startled by this information, my eyes flew open again. Stacey was still looking at me, hatred brimming in her gaze. "I should … have known. Or noticed. No matter." She drew a harsh breath and coughed. Black blood trickled from her parched mouth.

"Stacey?" the werewolf asked again.

"Pierre. A dying wish. Listen well, Hunter … I know you can hear me," she said brokenly. She closed her eyes. "Kill Bel'uah. Kill her! Were it not for her I -" her words were swallowed by coughing, and Pierre's hands went to her back. After a short time, she swallowed hard and relaxed again. "As for the Hunter …" She raised slit-open eyes to me. "Make what is left of his life hell on earth." The smile she gave me was full of malice before she drew a long and deep breath. As she let it out, she breathed, "Finally … to the resting place denied …"

It was her last breath.

I lay still for an instant. The entire world seemed to lie still, as if Stacey's miserable life deserved a moment of reverence. But the bubble popped only seconds later and despite how much I hurt I began to try and raise myself on one elbow. The werewolf didn't even seem to notice, passing his fingers over her eyes and then lifting her body from the alleyway ground. However, he turned a cold glare on me when I grunted with effort and pain, then kicked me hard in the side. My insides seemed to have turned to liquid; my vision went blank and there was a great rushing in my ears for a long moment. When I came back to myself gasping on the pavement, the werewolf was saying, "Don't move from that spot. You'll regret it." He then proved that he retained preternatural strength by casually jumping onto the roof of a one-story building next to the alleyway and trotting off over the roof.

For a little while I obeyed the werewolf, although not out of fear but out of sheer agony. Movement was near impossible it seemed. Omi was still blank-eyed and propped against the wall; I couldn't very well leave without him. And my gun was laying around here somewhere. It was useless to me until I got the handcuffs off, which wasn't likely unless I got the key from the werewolf (that was an exciting prospect) or successfully picked the lock -

That's it! Omi carried around lock picks, especially for missions. I looked to his still form. "Omi!" I hissed. There was no response. I closed my eyes and rolled off of my shoulder and onto my elbow. "Omi!" I tried again. Nothing. Gritting my teeth and muttering under my breath various curse words to vent the pain, I lay mostly on my back, propped on my elbow, and placed my feet flat on the ground, heels against my butt. Then I threw my weight towards my feet, doing a curl-up of pure agony and rolling to my knees. I froze that way for countless moments, my spine like a lance of fire leading into a lake of fire in my gut. And my shoulder continued to throb in rhythm with my heartbeat.

Shakily I got to my feet and shuffled/limped over to Omi, where I squatted, looking into his blank eyes. I nudged him with my knee. "Omi? Com'n, Omi, I know you're in there."

Omi was silent.

I sighed, faced with another dilemma. How was I going to find Omi's lock picks? I had no way of reaching them. A wave of despair crashed over me. I was unguarded - in pain, but able to carry on if I had to - and yet I was stuck here as surely as if Pierre had tied me to the lamppost at the corner. There wasn't going to be any great escape; no one knew were we were, I couldn't reach Omi's lock picks, Omi was out cold for all practical purposes, my gun was somewhere in the alley and completely useless, and in a matter of minutes the werewolf would be back to 'make my life hell' and then he'd probably kill Omi for the sheer fun of it. I had the sudden and irrational desire to laugh, which I suppressed partially because I knew laughing would hurt, but mostly because I was pretty sure I'd never stop. Nonetheless, I couldn't stop a small, hysterical giggle from getting past my lips. "We're gonna die …"

"Geez, don't say things like that."

I snapped my head up and immediately regretted it as the blood rushed to my head. My vision blurred, cleared, and focused, and I identified the speaker as none other than Youji Kudou, standing on the street in his assassin gear. "Y-Youji," I gasped. "You want to give me a heart attack?"

"An athlete like you? Not likely," Youji snorted. He strode into the alleyway easily, his long mission coat flapping around his legs and my Beretta shotgun in his hands. He surveyed me with a deepening frown. "Great gods above, Ken, what possesses you to get yourself beaten into a pulp at every opportunity?"

"Ask the vampires," I shot back. "And take a look in the mirror sometime, Kudou. Your neck is no piece of work either."

"Easy, Hidaka, easy," Youji cautioned with a straight face, holding his hands in front of himself in a placating fashion. The effect was somewhat spoiled by the shotgun in his hand, and his frown hadn't left his face. "I thought something had gone wrong. Drove out looking for you, got the Beretta just in case. Give me the fifteen-second fill-in?" It was a term Omi had coined for quickly needed information without explanation.

"Sure," I said dismissively. "Can't find my gun, Omi's still out cold for some reason, my hands are handcuffed behind my back if you care to do something about that, and a werewolf is coming back here for the express purpose of making my life hell on earth. Pick a starting point and we'll go from there," I suggested.

"You left out 'I'm bleeding to death where I stand'," Youji said without mirth. "Damn, Ken! Just … just damn!" He looked sick for a moment, then ran his long fingers through his hair. "Uh, let's start with the gun, which is right there." He walked past me to the glint of silver less than half a meter from where Stacey had died and shoved the gun into his coat pocket before turning to Omi and hoisting him in his arms. "And I'll take Omi. Get in the car."

Every step was agony, but I obeyed, and soon Youji was gunning the engine and roaring back to the Koneko – or so I thought at first. I was beginning to fade in and out of consciousness, but I was able to make out that we weren't going the right way. "Y-Youji …? Where …?" I managed.

"The hospital, Kenken, the hospital! You've been shot for crying out loud!" Youji sounded both irritated and worried at once.

"Oh," I said before letting myself collapse into darkness.

It was a measure of my injury that I didn't protest being called 'Kenken'.

* * *

It was an exciting couple of days that followed, or so I've been told – I wasn't awake for most of it. I nearly died on the operating table because I'd lost a lot of blood from my gun wound and from internal injuries. The doctors had a lot of fun trying to put my shattered shoulder back together, and my right kidney and a small part of my liver had to be removed – Pierre had smashed them to a pulp. I got asked the day after my surgery if I had been rammed with a pile driver! I couldn't very well tell the doctors that I'd nearly been killed by a werewolf, so I said 'sort of' and left it at that. My recovery in the hospital alone would be a week, and then I was supposed to 'take it easy'; my arm would be in a cast and then in a sling – all this with Miki and Pierre out on the loose. If trouble kept finding me the way it had, then I doubted I would have more than the first week to recover.

Then there were the hard questions, and the legal matters. For instance – why was my gun loaded with silver bullets? How had I gotten the puncture wounds on my neck? Why was I handcuffed when I was brought to the hospital? I couldn't reasonably explain it, but apparently Youji and Aya concocted a story in tandem that satisfied the doctors' questions. Less easy to solve were the legal questions, which were rather unique to me. Omi was on the official records of Tokyo as a student. Aya's legal status was a mystery to Youji and me, but Omi seemed to know a bit more and said only that Aya was his 'nickname', but he had a legal name as well. Youji also had maintained his identity in his switch from detective to assassin. On the other hand, I was legally dead – reduced to ashes in a burning warehouse. Therefore, I simply had no insurance. The hospital staff as a collective nearly had a severe headache over me, but Manx stepped in at the last minute and pulled some strings that settled the problem. (I don't really want to know how she did it – Manx can be scary when she wants to be!)

Like I said, I don't remember much of what happened because I spent most of it sleeping, but I do remember what happened during my surgery – and it wasn't pretty. Actually, it began the most fucked-up part of my saga as a Vampire Hunter.

I nearly died on the operating table, as I mentioned before, and maybe that's why this happened. One moment I was asleep and alone in the blackness of unconsciousness, but the next I was floating over the table, looking down at my body. I remember it very clearly – my stomach had been sliced open, and I could see the doctors probing my insides and cleaning unidentifiable things out of my torso until my heart monitor began to beep at them. Then there was mass panic; the doctors began to perform CPR and shout at each other. All this was kind of detached from me as if I was watching the death of someone I'd never really known or cared about, and all I could feel was a vague sadness.

While the doctors continued to fret over me, though, I was pulled away. I was just … pulled. I floated over Tokyo without changing altitude, and I remember wondering a little why I wasn't plummeting to hell before I floated through a wall and into a certain office – a certain, familiar office. Bethany's office.

Bethany was looking up at me from her desk, eyes cool and disinterested. "So you died?" she asked.

"Well … I'm not sure yet," I said, floating in midair over her desk, not knowing how or caring to stand on the ground as if I was in my body. I was divorced from my feelings.

"You're not sure? You're here, aren't you?" Bethany said with accusation and amusement in her voice.

"I'm here and there," I said.

She scowled darkly. "You must choose your body or here!"

"You called me," I said dully.

Bethany rubbed her temples, closing her eyes. "Still in surgery," she mumbled. She looked back up at me. "I have uses for you yet. Go."

And that quickly, I was again propelled to the hospital, only much faster, and the last thing I saw before I slammed back into my own body was the doctors about to declare the time of death.

Let me tell you – it was scary.

And I never told anyone.

Besides having terrifying out-of-body experiences, I had dreams – loads of them – involving Aya with fangs dancing on puppet strings, Bethany leering at me with slit pupils, Youji staring at me blank-eyed and vacant, Omi laughing hysterically and never stopping, and vampires – always vampires. I mean, these were the sort of dreams where you should have jerked out of bed screaming, except the sedatives kept me firmly asleep, trapped in my own mind until the end – and the end was often death. Death was the real running theme; the number of times either I or someone I knew died became to numerous to count.

Thus the first time I woke up for real, Aya was (unfortunately) the one waiting next to my bed. Actually, the reason I woke up in the first place was because I was having another nightmare involving vampires, and when I realized that I really could sense a nonhuman in the vicinity, my eyes snapped open and I panicked only to realize it was Aya I was feeling.

Aya was reading a magazine. When I woke up with a gasp, grasping the sides of my bed and panting, he looked down his nose at me and flipped the page. "You're awake. Good."

When I'd caught my breath and gotten my bearings I glared at him. "Good? Good? That's all you can say?" I demanded. "What happened? Is everyone okay? Where am I?"

Aya ignored me. "You're in the hospital recovery room. Youji and Omi went out to get McDonald's*. They'll be back soon." He flipped the page again.

And that was that.

For a long moment I just lay there, confused, frustrated, and angry, before I blew out a breath and relaxed. Let it go, I thought. He's not going to understand you – he's not really human, after all –

And then memory hit me like a ton of bricks. Psi-vampire!

I sat up in bed and experienced a severe blood rush as I turned shocked eyes on Aya. Was it true? Was Aya some sort of variant on the vampires I had killed? I tried to concentrate on the sensation that he triggered in me, but when I thought about the feeling it slipped out of my grasp like water.

Meanwhile, Aya looked up at me and fixed me with an icy stare. "What?"

I swallowed. "I … nothing," I wimped out, lying back down.

Just then, Youji and Omi burst in the door – 'burst' was the only word for it; the door nearly rebounded off the wall. "Ken-kun!" Omi cried joyfully, flying across the small white room and hugging me. I blinked and watched Youji from over Omi's shoulder; the playboy was carrying a McDonald's bag and he winked at me with well-hidden relief. I smiled a little.

"Well, Kenken, we got you some fries, just in case. The doctors said you'd probably wake up today, and hospital food is horrendous, take my word for it," Youji announced. "I'm sure Mr. Talkative here kept you busy?" He clapped Aya on the shoulder, and earned a fierce and deadly glare. Youji just laughed. "Aya, that glare's losing effect! I've stared down death in a vampire's eyes now," he pointed out.

Omi finally let me go and pulled up another chair. "Yeah, and got hypnotized doing it," he retorted. "Lay down, Ken-kun, you're still recovering."

I ignored his warning, sitting up and surveying the damage. If I should have been in pain, I wasn't; judging from the fuzzy feeling I had, I was on a myriad of painkillers. My left shoulder was in a cast, holding my arm out at an awkward angle. Something in my stomach pulled, and I surreptitiously checked my torso to see a long line of stitches to the right of navel from my hip to my ribcage. I winced instinctively and remembered watching the doctors put their hands in that hole when I 'died'.

"They had to remove your kidney," Omi said. "And part of your liver, too." I jerked up my head to look at him. "Sorry, Ken-kun – something smashed your insides! You have a lot internal stitches too, so you have to promise to be extra careful or you'll start to bleed internally again."

I looked back down at the stitches on my stomach. How did I get my body so fucked up so fast? I didn't say. Pierre was a real piece of work. "Uh, well, since Aya won't tell me anything, do me a favor and tell me instead," I asked. So Omi began to fill me in while Youji handed me fries, and Aya kept reading his magazine as if no one else was in the room. Then a nurse came in and chased everyone out so I could sleep.

* * *

"What really happened, Ken?"

I looked up at Youji from the crossword puzzle I'd begun out of sheer boredom. After spending three conscious days in the hospital, I was getting desperate. "What really happened when?" I asked.

Youji was the only other one in the room. Aya had mysteriously disappeared to another part of the hospital and Omi had school. Youji should have been running the shop, but it hadn't ever deterred him from doing as he pleased before. Privately I was glad of his company. "You know what I'm talking about. When Stacey attacked you in that alley. There's more to it than you've told anyone."

I fiddled with the pencil in my hand and adjusted my seat so the edge of my cast didn't dig into my back. "Er …"

I had told everyone what had happened, but I had refrained from mentioning Stacey's comments about psi-vampires. I only suspected Aya, anyway, although I couldn't imagine who else Stacey could have been referring to. I didn't even know what a psi-vampire was, but I was really bothered by it. Every time Aya came up in conversation, I found myself wondering Is he? again.

"Com'n, you can tell me," Youji coaxed.

"… Trust me, Youji, this time you don't want to know," I told him.

"What? Did she rape you?" Youji asked innocently.

"What? No!" I glared at the playboy. "She just got under my skin a little, that's all."

"Liar," Youji said quietly, and I flinched. "Ken, nothing and nobody gets under your skin – except maybe me, of course." He flashed a smile, but it faded quickly. "You're the most resilient person I know, except maybe Aya, and you're a really bad liar, too."

Caught between annoyance and embarrassment, I grunted. "Shut up, Kudou."

"Come off it, Ken! You're bad at this 'secrets' thing."

"Shut up, Kudou," I repeated, turning my attention to the crossword puzzle again.

"Ken." Youji's voice lost all wheedling tones, catching my attention. I looked up at him to see a perfectly straight, serious face. "If you don't tell me, I'll tell Omi you're keeping secrets. And then I'll let him try to get it out of you."

If my left arm hadn't been done up a cast, I would have crossed my arms and glared at Youji. As it was, I had to settle for just glaring. "You play dirty!" I accused.

Youji smirked at me. We both knew that Omi was the most persistent person on the planet when he wanted to know something; it was part of the reason he was our team researcher (although his hacking skills were pretty important, too). I wouldn't have a moment's rest until I had confessed. "Well?"

I sighed, giving up in part. If I phrased it right, I would only have to confess part of my worries. "All right. Stacey said something about 'psi-vampires'. What the hell is a psi-vampire?"

"That's all?" Youji asked incredulously.

"Hey! There's enough blood-sucking vampires out there, I didn't want to know there were other kinds, too!" I protested. "Now I don't even know what I'm supposed to be looking for. Geez, my life was too complicated when it was just Weiss. Now it's Weiss, werewolves, witches, blood-sucking vampires, and psi-vampires!"

"Ahem."

I froze at the quiet voice and slowly twisted around in bed to see Aya framed in the doorway. He was impassive as usual, but he was pushing a wheelchair. A nurse stood behind him, poking her head in the door with a cheery smile. "Perhaps you'd like to see other parts of the hospital today, Hidaka-san! Surely you're tired of this room," she offered pleasantly.

It didn't take any effort to smile at the prospect. "Arigatou gozaimasu, ojou-san," I exclaimed.

"Dou itashimasshite, Hidaka-san," she returned with a bow.

* * *

Earlier I said that I suspected I'd only have a week to recover before my crazy life began to act up again.

I was wrong.

I had less.

The nurse was pretty annoyed when she got a call at ten o'clock at night on my fourth day of recovery. Obviously wanting to go home, she came into my room and handed me the phone, saying, "You can only talk for five minutes, Hidaka-san, you need your rest," before stalking out.

I shrugged with my good arm and put the phone to my ear. "Moshi-moshi," I said.

"Hidaka-san," said a familiar and chilling voice.

I pursed my lips. "Yumi-san," I returned sourly. "You have three seconds to explain yourself before I hang up on you."

"Then let me talk fast," she said. I blinked, surprised that she had no objections or sultry comments to throw at me. "I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot. You have every right to choose your own path – I was just upset at the moment, and a bit shaken that you realized the source of power for our room."

For a long moment there was silence; I held the phone to my ear and tried to comprehend the idea that Yumi was apologizing to me. "Uh, okay …" I said brilliantly.

Yumi plowed on. "I'm glad you understand. The source of power is a sacrifice, but a willing one – please try to understand, Hidaka-san. The most powerful witch in the coven gave herself up ten years ago to create that room. It took every ounce of tortured blood in her body to support our magic."

I suddenly realized that Yumi sounded as if she was on the verge of tears. Things were happening too fast; I didn't know whether to trust her or to hang up. The idea that the focus had been christened by a death was gruesome, but it had been a willing sacrifice … "Wait a minute. You're not just calling to apologize. What do you want?" I demanded.

There was another moment of silence; then Yumi, her voice cracking, said very quietly, "Help, Hidaka-san. Our coven is being killed, one by one. There are only four of us left – and I suspect that once we are all dead, you and the rest of Weiss may be next."

* * *

*Of course there are McDonald's' in Japan. ^^x Seriously, there are. I don't know what they serve, but I'm pretty sure fries are a universal staple, so I'm playing it safe.

Author's Notes: Yeah, yeah, corny ending. Sorry. @_@x Overall this chapter is boring if you ask me. About Aya 'taking off to another part of the hospital' – I need to make a point. I failed to give a warning about spoilers in Part Five, I think, when Yumi reminds Ken of his own sordid past involving shotguns in people's mouths. ~_~x This is a reference to the OAV. And now you're going, 'Hey! Aren't the OAVs after the series?' Actually, that's debatable. My friend noted that at the end of the OAVs they say that the story continues in Episode 1 of WK. Also, they live out of a trailer in the OAV, so I suspect that they haven't gotten the flower shop yet. Thus, I assume that the OAV takes place before the series began – so Aya-chan is still in the hospital at this point, explaining why Aya disappears to other parts of the hospital in this chapter.

Thanks to whomever said that Hunter blood is poisonous to vampires. It confirmed what I thought was true, and was very helpful.

APs are approaching at the speed of light, so I probably won't update for three weeks. Luckily this cliffhanger ain't so bad, ne?

Legolas: It 'ain't' so good, either, Vikki.

Vikki: Okay, okay! I admit it, it's corny! Sheesh. ~_~x

One last note: NO, NO PAIRINGS. I don't want them in there. Period. Like I said, YouKen is the closest to being suggested, and that's accidental. Sorry – romance just wasn't the goal.

It's a short chapter. Not much going on, obviously. Next time there will be more action and probably a lot more explanations. We approach the climax rapidly now, believe it or not! Thank you oh so much for reading – please keep reviewing! ^^x

~~Vikki