The Hunting – Chapter 5: Deadly Dead

Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss, I don't own Schwarz, I don't own Japan, I don't own the weather, I don't own the buildings, I don't own the people, or their scarves and jackets and mittens, I don't own the Koneko, I don't own liquor of any kind, and I hav no clu who the people on the newscasting are.. I own nothing, except for the ummmm idea? I think... I might not even own that either. 0.o Please, don't sue me.

Swirling nightmares plagued him with their demonic laughter and mad red eyes. He smelled vomit and blood. Visions of torn limbs gripped him, and bloody eyes cradled his limp body. Swirling, swirling, drifting through, gently raping his unconsciousness. Something told him, ordered him, commanded him, with the threat of his life that was no longer his own, that was no longer truly alive. He was to serve the Night. To serve the Nightly Lord. To kill. To kill for Her Nightness. To bring about chaos from order.

Omi awoke at daylight in the Koneko.

"How are you doing?" Ran asked him, looking down.

"How am I here...?" he rasped. His throat felt sore.

"You arrived at our doorstep two nights ago. You've been sleeping for a good one and a half days, sort of..." Ran explained.

"Who was keeping you?" Schuldich demanded, breaking into his mind, forcing a surprise on the boy, so pure, it was an electric jolt down his spine, through his body.

"I..." He knew. He had to know. He racked his brain. He remembered the room, Ken, Yoji, the food, blankets. But where it was, he didn't know. And who was his captor? The captor wasn't there in his mind. Oh God... "I... I... I feel sick," he muttered, and Ran rushed him to the bathroom.

Schuldich stood in the doorway. Being in the mind was as bad as it could get, let alone just being in the room to hear the throwing up. "He doesn't remember who took him." He saw Ran's face, whiter than usual. "What is it?" he asked, feeling the blank mind, and then he knew.

Ran stepped back.

Omi panted, his head bent over the toilet. His eyes glowed very faintly, but they were unmistakably red. The blood he'd been vomiting dripped from his lips.

"What's going on now?" Ran whispered to Schuldich. "What's in his head? What happened to his eyes?"

"I don't know about you, but I'm going to run."

They ran. And Omi flew after them. His speed carried him straight after them, and then into a wall. He crashed and burned. Really, he just fell to the floor with a sickening thud, knocked out cold.

"Holy shit," Schuldich breathed.

"Unholy, you mean," Ran said. "I mean, did you fucking see his eyes? They were red, like a devil's."

"Shut up. I saw the damned eyes." He turned to Ran. "We have to get a few things straightened out, first of all. Look, the reason why I'm working with you is because whoever it is, is going to come for you next! And I'm not doing this so I can get killed! You got that, Abyssinian? You got that..." He sighed and sank to the floor, his head in his hands. I can't believe I'm doing this...I can't believe I'm helping this guy...I can't believe I'm sparing this child... "Look, we can't kill him."

"That wasn't even an option," Ran growled.

"We have to let him lead us, somehow... to... whoever did this to him."

"What was done to him?"

"Goddammit! I don't want to believe any of this at all!"

"What was done to him?" Ran repeated through gritted teeth.

Schuldich sighed. "He died."

"What?! What the hell are you talking about? He's still breathing! He could wake up at any moment now!"

"Look, here." Schuldich stood up and grabbed his jacket and pulled on his gloves. "We've got to get out of here. He's gonna wake up and rip our eyes from our sockets. Let's go." He found what seemed to pass as Ran's coat and tossed it to the redhead who put it on and followed him out the door, obedient as a cat –in tow, but ever wary and suspicious.

"Where?"

"A bar. A hotel. Somewhere, anywhere where I can get my hands on booze. Come on!"

In the hiding place, Yoji was howling. He'd only just woken up that very morning –or at least, he figured it was morning. He was companionless and watched hours before when someone dragged Ken out, kicking and screaming. Ken had told him how Omi wasn't coming back and how Ran would be there soon and how there was nothing anyone can do that will save them.

Yoji cried and rocked back and forth, surrounded by vomit and filth. He almost prayed to be killed as well, to be with his friends in Hell. He wanted to get away from this nightmare. It was surreal. It couldn't be actual. It couldn't be reality. It won't be long, he told himself firmly –well, as firm as he could manage.

He cried for Omi, for Ken, for Meiko –his companion of two nights past. He cried for Ran, for all of Japan. He knew that they were all doomed, and that the doom shall come to pass very soon. Crawford told them how nearly all the snow was frozen, and it was only a matter of time. Crawford knew, as Yoji knew, that this extravaganza would not fail. They would all be dead very soon. Very, very soon.

When he was done crying for all of them, he had no more tears for himself.

Crawford flipped through channels, and stopped once he found a piece of news that sparked his interest. He set the remote on the coffee table, and crossed his arms, tilting his head.

"There have been record reportings of deaths all over Japan, but mainly centered in one particular city–."

Crawford twitched. He'd heard it coming, but had no idea... He had no idea how to react. It was his city. He grabbed his jacket and looked out the window. Daylight. He cursed. But the snow... He shrugged and left, tunneling through the city, tearing through the solid ice. He'd left the television on. He knew how it went. He can see the future that he's not part of.

"A greater part of the deaths reported have been accidents related to the major climate change, suicides, lacerations, and, worst yet, there appears to be a number of victims murdered by what authorities call a 'vampire- imitation'. The victims were found nearly devoid of their own blood, with it spilled about them in the snow where they all seem to be buried. No wounds were found on the victims, save for the bruises signing a struggle, and the puncture marks on their necks. However, thanks to late forensic discoveries, scientists say that they may be able to identify the killer within the end of the week."

Another newscaster cut in, as Crawford kicked away a slab of ice.

"Isn't it true, Mitsuka-san, that the police recently arrested the suspects responsible for the lacerations?"

"Yes, Bob, that is true, but I believe there are still more they are looking for." Mitsuka would flash a smile at her dwindling, dying audience and say, "Thank you, and good day, Japan."

The bar was nearly empty when Schuldich and Ran bustled in, faces red with the cold. They nearly collapsed onto the barstools, both breathing heavily. They'd run all the way there.

"Can I help you, boys?" the bartender asked.

"Give me a beer, and leave it in the bottle, and a shot of the hardest shit you've got," Schuldich ordered, slapping a hand onto the bar top. "And he'll take a fuzzy navel." He nodded his head minutely at Ran who stood next to him indignantly.

"Not!" Ran protested. "Bartender, I'll have a Jeiger-bomb."

"We're out of–."

"Fine!" he barked. "Get me Scotch. Neat."

"Wuss," Schuldich muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

"Stupid. We should have gotten out of there sooner. It's your fault, you know. You were in his head. You should have warned me." His voice was a mere whisper, but filled as far as he could top it with spite and blame.

The bartender placed the three drinks in front of them. Schuldich threw back his shot, and then slammed the shot glass down. They took the other glasses to a table in the back of the bar, where they could be alone and unheard, as long as they kept their voices down.

"Warned you? Hey, I've been doing all the work, okay? If you can't accept that, then we're in trouble." He opened the bottle of beer and drunk deeply.

"Work? What work is in this? We're running around, trying to prove Crawford stole my assassins! And trying to find out where they are! So maybe, you could be just a little more helpful, and tell me what the hell happened to Omi!"

Schuldich sighed, "I really don't want to believe what I'm about to tell you."

"What is it?"

"Take a drink," Schuldich ordered him quietly, almost... gently.

Surprisingly, he did, and then was quiet so that Schuldich may continue.

"Bombay is dead. He is alive. His life is... gone, you see. What happened is this. H's a vampire's transformation, so he's not truly a vampire. I really, really do not think that Crawford is responsible for this, but I do think that you have something else on your hands to deal with now."

"Are you telling me that there are such things as vampires?"

"You bet your ass that's what I'm telling you. And now, your little Omi is one too. Well, half of one really. A lot more dangerous, because he can go around in the daytime, and he doesn't require blood. He does his bidding for his master."

"And who's that?"

"Call me crazy, but I think it's the Night."

"The Night? I... don't understand."

"Well, you'll just have to figure it out, won't you?"

To Be Continued...