New chapter up! I know, the last chapter was kinda weird, but this one should make more sense.

Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss Kreuz or the Schwarz boys. I'm just using them for this.

"blah" speech (German)

blah> -telepathy

'blah' –non-telepathic thought

Chapter One:

Two for the Hunt

To say Commander Matheson hated visiting the crèche would be an understatement. Most people agreed that the crèche was one of the most displaceable and disturbing places in the main Rosenkreuz facilities. He had to put his mental shields on full strength to just walk near the place, and it was rumored that several empaths had gone insane by being close to the building.

Upon their 'recruitment', most children went directly into the school proper, but not all. Some were considered too young or too weak for Rosenkreuz, and were put into the crèche first to 'toughen them up'. The crèche was, essentially, a small brick dormitory with a large, walled in yard. The crèche's staff were not teachers or caretakers, but prison guards, and vicious ones at that. Those who survived and made it into the school were little more than rabid dogs, psychic rabid dogs. Any child that survived more than three weeks in the crèche was a guaranteed lunatic.

And now here he was to recruit two of said lunatics.

"Oi Woden. What brings you here?" The guard at the gate called.

"Business. Now let me in. I need to speak with Grigori," Matheson said, stating the name of one of the crèche's supervisors.

"Can't," Said the guard. "Ol' Grigori's been dead going on three weeks."

"What happened?"

"One a th' brats got him," the man said with a sadistic grin. "A telepath. Completely fried his synapses. I kept telling the moron that one of these days he was gonna pick the wrong munchkin to molest."

This got Matheson's full attention. A kid who could kill a fully trained SZ agent with only its mind was just what he was looking for. Then he registered the rest.

"Three weeks ago? So what happened to the kid?"

"What do you think? We can't let these little monsters get away with crap like that. He went into the cells."

Which meant that a potentially superb SZ agent was nothing more than a starved corpse somewhere under their feet.

Matheson sighed. 'Such a waste.'

"Just let me in."

Inside the crèche was even worse than the outside. Ragged children between the ages of three and nine were scattered around the yard. Steadying himself, Matheson dropped his shields just enough to get a decent reading of them

A girl, probably new judging from her fairly clean clothes, sat on the rickety metal swings crying. She looked new enough that she was probably still mentally sound. He scanned her briefly. Swiss, eight years old, weak empathic, scared but stable. Not what he was looking for, but he needed two, and a sane child might counter a less sane one on the team. He put her on his 'maybe' list.

By the time he was done in the yard, his 'maybe' list had ten children on it including the Swiss girl. None of the others were even remotely usable, so she was moved up to 'most likely'; unless he found two that he absolutely had to have.

"Commander Matheson," A tall, skinny woman approached him. "I'm Ilsa, the new supervisor. I was told you were looking for Grigori. Sadly, he is no longer with us, so I hope that I can help you with whatever you needed."

"You can. Are these all the children?" Matheson asked, waving a hand at the yard.

"Probably. A few might be hiding under beds. They've been surprisingly well behaved since the incidents earlier this month."

"Incidents? Plural?"

"Yes." Ilsa nodded. "In addition to Grigori's unfortunate demise, two days prior to that, a clairvoyant decided to crack one of the gate guards over the head with a brick. She was playing tic-tac-toe with the man's blood. However, one can never be too careful. Just before coming to meet you, I sent some men down to retrieve the bodies. After all, children learn by example."

Matheson felt sick as he tried not to notice the tiny skull hanging from a second story window.

Ilsa motioned for him to follow her inside, "Come, and let's speak in my office."

Matheson cursed the woman in every language he knew as he past a pyrokinetic chewing on his own fingers. Such depraved individuals were the reason Rosenkreuz was no longer turning out the quality of talent it used to.

"So what brings the esteemed Comma-"

SCREEEEEEEEEEECH!

Any pleasantries Ilsa might have spoken were cut off by the unholy noise.

"What on EARTH!"

"It's coming from the lower level." Ilsa frowned, "But no one's been put in the cells for weeks."

A large man ran up to them, babbling random things.

"Frauline Ilsa! The cells… We went to get them… Still alive!"

"Make sense you idiot!" Ilsa hissed. "Who's still alive?"

"The ones who killed Herr Grigori and Jonz. They should have starved to death weeks ago!"

Matheson's mind went into over drive. Just the very thing he was looking for! If only he could stop Ilsa and her goons from fixing their rather obvious miscalculation. Grabbing the man roughly, he started in the direction of the stairs into the basement.

"Show me."

The basement of the crèche was more of a dungeon. Several thick metal doors lined the stone walls, all barred shut save one.

In front of the single open door a crèche staff member tried to handle two small children. He held one by the remains of its shirt. The other child had sunk its teeth into the man's ankle. Even from the stairwell, Matheson could feel the immense psychic tension. These two had killed at least once each before, and they were about to kill again.

The crèche man shook his leg in an attempt to get rid of the child biting him. A scream of pain echoed in the corridor as the small body hit the wall, but it did not come from the child. The tiny urchin had bitten deep enough to hamstring him. Un-phased by the blow it had received, the bloody-mouthed child latched itself on to the nearest limb, the other leg this time.

Blood started to run down his face as the mental pressure grew. The telepath was going to work.

"Get out of my head!" The guard screamed, and tried to throw the child he held away, but the little urchin actually grabbed onto his arm. Matheson watched in amazement as a large rat crawled out of the child's shredded clothing and leapt at the man's face.

'Amazing, simply amazing. Innate knowledge of vital points, superb reflexes, even animal manipulation, these are the ones I need!'

THAT'S ENOUGH!>

The booming telepathic command was too late for the children's victim. He sank to the ground in a heap. Even if the telepath hadn't successfully fried his synapses, the biting child had managed to chew through both his Achilles tendons, and one eye was half gone thank to the rat that was climbing back into the other child's arms.

But Matheson could care less about a member of the crèche's staff. He only wanted the children. Now that is was over, he scanned them briefly, using the information from his conversation from Ilsa to figure out which was which.

The child with the rat was the telepath, and male. The ankle biter was the female clairvoyant. The girl put herself between Matheson and the telepath, hissing in warning.

He removed his jacket and draped it over their heads. Two pair of bloodshot, light sensitive eyes looked up Matheson almost gratefully from under the shadows of the makeshift hood, getting their first good look at him.

Guten Tag, little ones. There's no need for any more violence today.>

He scanned their reactions to his mental greeting. He'd lost the girl at hello, but the boy pounced on the thought like a cat on a mouse. Matheson chuckled at the feel of the younger telepath's talent probing his shields.

"No, you won't be getting into my head," he said with a smile.

Who are you?> the boy demanded.

"Not someone who means you any harm. That's all you need to know." Matheson continued to gauge the duo's behavior. He could feel the understanding of his words dawning in the girl's head seconds after he'd spoken. The boy was translating everything for her automatically. That level of psychic bonding was unheard of in children so young and untrained.

"You should be dead. But you're not. Why?" He did not ask how they'd survived. The girl's thoughts babbling to themselves about killing mice made that part clear.

We will not die.>

It was that simple.

"You don't want to die, eh? The people here will kill you."

We will not die. They will die.> the boy replied.

killkillbloodkillblood> the girl's thoughts echoed.

"You're strong enough to kill a few of them, but not all."

We will not die.> This time it was less forceful. The boy was thinking about it, and knew Matheson was right.

"I am Commander Matheson of the hunter team 'Herne'. I want to offer you a deal. I will take you away from here. No more cells, no more walls, no more guards."

Why?>

"Because the two of you are strong. I need that strength. I will teach you to be stronger. Say yes, and you will come with me. You hunted and killed to survive. Now, you will hunt and kill for me. Say no, and I'll walk away right now, and Frauline Ilsa and her men will kill you slowly."

We will not die.> the boy stated, and the girl's head bobbed up and down in agreement.

"Good."

"Commander Matheson! What's going on here!"

Ah yes, Ilsa. He'd forgotten about her.

Matheson slowly turned around. The skinny new crèche supervisor stared at him in confusion.

"Ah Frauline. You're just in time. Allow me to introduce you to the newest members of Herne."

"What?" The woman's face hilarious. At least, that was what the boy seemed to think.

The girl started singing to herself about blood and scarecrows in English.

"I demand an explanation. One of my staff was murdered, and you just stood there. Now you're talking about new members of your team!"

Stupid bitch.> the boy sent to Matheson.

Agreed.> he sent back.

"Indeed." Matheson said aloud. "That's what I came here for in the first place."

He removed a letter from his pocket and handed it to Ilsa with a grin.

The woman's face got even more twisted as she read.

"This… this is… it can't be…"

"But it is. It's a written order signed by the elders, giving me permission to remove any two children I choose from your care, and place them on my team. And I choose these two. Effective immediately."

"But this…"

Matheson ignored the stuttering woman, and turned back to the children, his children now.

"Let's go."

He supposed he must have made quite a sight in the yard. He walked out holding the hand of the telepath, who held the clairvoyant's hand, both still huddled under his jacket.

Do you have names?>

There was a moment of mental silence from both. He'd thought as much. That they might have forgotten their ownnames during their imprisonment was entirely likely.

Make something up then.>

The girl's head was immediately a whirl of blood and dead mice and random little girl things. After a moment she focused on an image of a brown bird with a blood red chest. She was very good at making her thoughts clear enough for a telepath to pick up on. A very useful thing, this.

Robin Red-breast, huh?>

With the blood staining her front, it was rather appropriate.

And you?>

The boy was silent.

Take your time.>

Matheson shot a passing glance at the little Swiss girl. She'd nearly made it out. But he'd found these two demons, and by choosing them, he sentenced her to a terrible fate as a crèche child. It was sad, but one of the decisions a team commander was expected to make. Even so, he felt a little guilty.

Guilty.>

"What?"

The boy looked up at him.

My name will be 'Guilty'.> He stated.

He met the boy's eyes, and found him to be serious.

Very well then. Schuldig it is.>

Authors Notes:

Dude! Seven pages in two days! If only I could do this well for English class!

The muse was actually doing her job for once.

Glyph-chan- Of course I'm doing my job!

Interesting fact. According to my computer's spell check, pryokinetic is not a word, but hydrokinetic is.

Reviews:

Kojima Ayumi: Sorry, no running away, but there'll be some rather insane humor starting in chapter two. And as for romance… grins you'll see.