Disclaimer : Don't own Weiß Kreuz, but I do own all the characters that are
not a part of Weiß.
Pairings : none
Note : This is a one-shot fiction.
Metallic
by : apocalipticbolivion
I watch as it drips from my down my arm. A beautiful shade of red.
It glides easily across the floor of my room. Into a pool of red.
I look up at the door as I hear footsteps pouding down the stairs, into my chambers. It is the German telepath, Schuldig. But, he is not alone. The young one, Nagi is with him. I sit helplessly as I watch them wipe away my beautiful creation.
There are still stains on the floor, even after an hour of scrubbing. Why bother? It's my room. Noone can see what I do, for there are no windows. The only light is from the bars on the door.
"Fuck, Farfello! Why do you do this shit?!" The telepath screamed at me, as though I were just a mere child. A child that frays away from every little shout and scream. But, that is just the opposite of me. I enjoy watching them yell, it seems to amuse me.
"Because, i have the power to do so..." My voice drawled on, and by the look on the older man's face. I could tell I have sucessfully annoyed him. I look to Nagi, he doesn't seem to care. He is just standing there, minding his own business. Like a good child.
I wouldn't normally bother waisting my time on them, but I actually feel something for them. The same kind of something I feel for each blade I possess. I fatherly love towards them... even though they are older than me. It seems as though they have a little feeling for me. Be it that I scare them sometimes, or that I can relate with them. It doesn't matter.
Anyone that can look at me without fear, I will not harm.
I have no idea why I wont, so do not ask.
As I look back at the incision I made into my arm, I see that the bleeding has not stopped. I am pleased to see that. As my 'friends' leave I pull out my blood soaked knife. My favorite one, the Pendragon.
I look to at the designs of the Pendragon, This classic ring hilt dagger features a ring guard to protect the hand, wire-wrapped grip and cross pommel. The ring guard and signet ring both feature matching seals. Includes a great wood lacquered finish display measuring 7 1/8" x 4 5/8" x 5 3/16". Only one word can describe it. Beautiful.
I take the Pendragon into my hands, and dig it beneath my flesh. More blood than before shoots out. I can do nothing but smile.
"Like a fountain..." I mumbled to myself setting the blade down next to me. I raise my hand to the cut, smearing it into my hand. The scent of blood is overwellming. It is like it takes control over somebody when they see it. If the other people in the world doesn't know the feeling of seeing blood before their very eyes, it's intoxicating...
As I raise my hand to my face smiling as the taste reaches my tounge. The sweet taste...
Metallic...
End.
A/N : this was written for my personal amusment. I just love farfello, and his obsession...
Pairings : none
Note : This is a one-shot fiction.
Metallic
by : apocalipticbolivion
I watch as it drips from my down my arm. A beautiful shade of red.
It glides easily across the floor of my room. Into a pool of red.
I look up at the door as I hear footsteps pouding down the stairs, into my chambers. It is the German telepath, Schuldig. But, he is not alone. The young one, Nagi is with him. I sit helplessly as I watch them wipe away my beautiful creation.
There are still stains on the floor, even after an hour of scrubbing. Why bother? It's my room. Noone can see what I do, for there are no windows. The only light is from the bars on the door.
"Fuck, Farfello! Why do you do this shit?!" The telepath screamed at me, as though I were just a mere child. A child that frays away from every little shout and scream. But, that is just the opposite of me. I enjoy watching them yell, it seems to amuse me.
"Because, i have the power to do so..." My voice drawled on, and by the look on the older man's face. I could tell I have sucessfully annoyed him. I look to Nagi, he doesn't seem to care. He is just standing there, minding his own business. Like a good child.
I wouldn't normally bother waisting my time on them, but I actually feel something for them. The same kind of something I feel for each blade I possess. I fatherly love towards them... even though they are older than me. It seems as though they have a little feeling for me. Be it that I scare them sometimes, or that I can relate with them. It doesn't matter.
Anyone that can look at me without fear, I will not harm.
I have no idea why I wont, so do not ask.
As I look back at the incision I made into my arm, I see that the bleeding has not stopped. I am pleased to see that. As my 'friends' leave I pull out my blood soaked knife. My favorite one, the Pendragon.
I look to at the designs of the Pendragon, This classic ring hilt dagger features a ring guard to protect the hand, wire-wrapped grip and cross pommel. The ring guard and signet ring both feature matching seals. Includes a great wood lacquered finish display measuring 7 1/8" x 4 5/8" x 5 3/16". Only one word can describe it. Beautiful.
I take the Pendragon into my hands, and dig it beneath my flesh. More blood than before shoots out. I can do nothing but smile.
"Like a fountain..." I mumbled to myself setting the blade down next to me. I raise my hand to the cut, smearing it into my hand. The scent of blood is overwellming. It is like it takes control over somebody when they see it. If the other people in the world doesn't know the feeling of seeing blood before their very eyes, it's intoxicating...
As I raise my hand to my face smiling as the taste reaches my tounge. The sweet taste...
Metallic...
End.
A/N : this was written for my personal amusment. I just love farfello, and his obsession...