OooNo: Blehflu
Disclaimah: The Rating is R, Weiß Kreuz is not mine. AU and still not.
Fluffy gummy bears from Peru
A Blood-red Sun is Rising
He was cold. His vision blurred, the edges softening, colors running together as his eyes stung and streamed with moisture. Sometime in the night it had begun to snow, thick fat flakes drifting down from the sky at a leisurely pace. It was what his mother had always called a quiet, killing snow. If you weren't paying attention you would lay down and fall asleep without ever realizing the danger you were in.
He'd been walking for most of the night. Every now and then the distant hazy lights of a car would warn him off the road and he would crouch, shivering, in the ditch until it passed. Then back on the road again, putting one foot in front of the other with his hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his trousers. By the time he reached the three mile marker his hospital gown was wet with ice and sticking to his already chilled skin.
Now he was past the village of Grenleheim, beyond the open fields and the barking dogs that he had silenced with little more than a thought. His movements were slow, his eyes fixed steadfastly on the narrow stretch of ground just a few feet ahead of him. That strip of white and gray slush had become his world; anything beyond it was utterly beyond his comprehension.
Suddenly he stopped, lifting his face slightly and wincing as the bitter wind tore at his cheeks. For a moment he was lost, unable to find the reason why he could go no further. Then he realized, and felt a strange tightening in his gut.
He was standing in front of a set of massive iron gates. A vast stone wall extended from either side, stretching off into the distance until they melted into the horizon. Through the bars of the gate he could see a long, winding drive and…there. That had to be the school. A massive structure of stone that seemed to loom over the countryside, brooding and dark with menace.
It's warmer here. He thought absently, reaching up to trace the looping design of the gate. His hands shook and he frowned, staring at his fingers as he tried to figure out why he couldn't make them move.
After a moment he lost interest and turned his gaze upward, to the steel-gray of the sky as it arched over the building and grounds. It was still snowing, the flakes idling gracefully down to frost his lashes and melt on his neck.
I'm so tired. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling weariness beginning to pull him toward sleep. Maybe if I just sat, for a moment…
Almost before he could finish the thought he was kneeling in the snow, and his trousers were soaked through, though he could no more feel his knees than he could feel his feet. It seemed almost funny then and he laughed softly, bowing his head until it rested on the ground.
Warm…
He fell to his side and tried to burrow further into the warmth, resting his head against a drift with a sigh. He hadn't been this warm since he was a small child, when he had nightmares and slept in his mother's bed with all its heaped blankets.
Mutter…His thoughts began to separate, spanning out across his mind until they seemed to echo through his head. Mutter…it's….warm…and…I….
There was nothing more. Nothing but the soft whisper of falling snow and the sigh of wind as it whirled over the plains. In only a few moments the fresh flakes covered the footprints that led up to the gate. A few more and the young man was disappearing, his shock of fiery hair frosted white. Then he was gone and there was only a dimple left in the snow where he had been.
And to the east, sliding over the curve of the world with all the lazy arrogance of a fat old woman, a blood-red sun was rising.
"You didn't sleep."
Brad Crawford turned from his position at the window to see Yume staring up at him, her dark eyes calm and lucid. It seemed that whatever had thrown her into a panic the night before had left her. For some very strange reason, that bothered him.
"No." He said finally. "I didn't."
She propped herself up on her elbows, a tiny frown marring her lips.
"Bradley…"
He smiled and moved swiftly to the side of the bed, leaning in to kiss her before she could say another word.
"I'll order breakfast." He murmured against her hair. When he pulled away her expression had relaxed once more. "What would you like?"
She shrugged, tucking an errant strand of hair behind one ear.
"You know what I like." She replied. Then she was sliding out of bed, balancing lightly on the balls of her feet as she arched up in a bone-cracking stretch. "I'm going to take a shower."
"Go ahead."
He watched her walk lightly to the bathroom, her hair swaying to her waist. Before she could disappear into the yellow-wallpapered room he called out, making her pause.
"Yume."
She turned, a quizzical expression on her face.
"What kind of tea do you want?"
She smiled, and there was a hint of her old humor in it.
"They only have one kind." She replied. Then she shut the door, and a few moments later he heard the water running.
Shaking his head Brad Crawford moved to sit on the edge of the bed and picked up the telephone, dialing the number for room service.
I can't believe I'm doing this.
Yume stood under the hot spray of water, her eyes closed, arms braced against the wall as she leaned her head down. Last night she had been terrified, her thoughts too muddled for her to understand half of what was going through her head. Today however…today she was all too sane and things were making far too much sense…
I must be out of my fucking mind. This is never going to work.
Of course, she was going to do it anyway, but that was beside the point. The point was that she was in up to her neck in shit and she was about to take a deep breath and go under all the way. Whether or not she would come out a live in the end wasn't really the question; it was whether or not he would…
There was a knock on the door and she half-jumped out of her skin before turning a properly sheepish smile toward the sound.
"Yes?"
"They said the food will be up in fifteen minutes."
"All right. I'll be finished in just a moment."
She finished her shower and shut the water off, wrapping a towel around herself as she made her way back into the bedroom.
No one has ever tried to defy Rosenkreuz before. She thought as she dried herself off and began to dress. No one's ever even thought about it. Most of us don't have the freedom to even begin considering it, much less actually planning it out and taking action.
"If the food gets here before I'm done, yell." Bradley said, leaning in to kiss her cheek before he headed for the shower himself.
Yume watched him go, a slightly wistful expression on her face. Then she sighed and stood up, moving toward the window. She pulled the curtain back and leaned to press her forehead against the glass.
Red sky in the morning is a shepherd's warning. Red sky at night is a shepherd's delight.
She smiled slightly and shook her head.
I wonder if I should consider this my warning. She thought, moving away slowly, Or theirs.
Gunner Valhendt could have cared less what color the sun was when it rose. His thoughts were on matters he considered to be far more important than some silly superstition. Esset was breathing down his neck about Moraven's prophecies again, demanding copies of her journals and information on the new precog as well. If he didn't find something to make them shut up he was going to have to begin explaining why he hadn't bothered to dispose of the madman he was keeping in the basement…
"Sir."
…and then they might start poking their noses into his private files…
"Sir."
…coming up with all the minor offenses he'd committed over the years and bringing a ridiculous case against him…
"SIR."
…the damned bastards had been trying to get at him for years…
"SIR!"
He slammed his coffee cup down on the table and turned to glare at his secretary who, unfazed by all this, merely coughed politely and adjusted her grip on her clipboard.
"Sir, the head doctor from the Vielvor Mental Hospital is waiting outside to speak with you."
"Hiram? What the hell does he want?" Valhendt snarled. "As if I'm not already busy enough…"
"Shall I send him in sir?"
"What? Yes, you might as well." He snorted. "If we make him wait too long he'll start to get curious. I'd really hate to kill him; he's rather useful."
His secretary coughed again, shot him a warning glass, and retreated to the door of his office. A few moments later the door burst open and Dr. Joseph Hiram came storming in, his thick eyebrows drawn together until they resembled thunderclouds over the pale blue of his eyes.
"What is it Hiram?"
"What is it?" The small, curly-haired man sputtered. "What is it? You…you dare to ask me that after what you've done?"
Valhendt raised an eyebrow, amusement gleaming in his eyes.
"What precisely have I done?"
"You stole him from me! The telepath, the one I was keeping for my experiments. You…you stole him right out from under me you foul…"
"Now, now Hiram, name-calling isn't going to earn you any respect around here. Besides, from what I understand the boy escaped on his own and came here. We did not abduct him from your hospital, and we certainly didn't check him out ourselves. Really, you should maintain your establishment with a keener eye before you go around thrusting accusations at your old friends."
The little doctor snorted.
"Old friend, hah! You'd steal my hospital out from under me if you thought it would gain you anything."
"That," Valhendt said flatly, "is entirely beside the point. The fact of the matter is, the boy came here of his own volition and due to the contract that I signed when I became headmaster of this little school, I am forced to honor his privacy and his choice to attend here. Besides, we pulled him fresh out of the snow. He was as good as dead and you know it."
"Oh…damnit Valhendt." Hiram growled, his anger fading as he threw himself into a chair. "I hate it when you do that."
"Yes well, you can keep the mother, if that makes you feel any better."
"Really?" The doctor brightened. "She's not as strong as the son but she did seem a promising candidate…"
"Yes, yes, go ahead. Run your little experiments. Hook wires into her brain and prod her until she expires, I really couldn't care less. It's no concern of mine whether she dies or not. She might have been useful to control him but there are certainly other ways of doing that, and I wouldn't want to deprive you of all your fun."
Hiram chuckled.
"Damn straight." He stood, shoving dark hair back from his forehead. "You can keep him then, I suppose. Sorry to bother you, old friend."
"Just out of curiosity…"
The other man stopped on his way out, turning.
"Just out of curiosity?"
"I just wanted to know why his tag bracelet didn't have his name on it."
"Oh that." Hiram shrugged. "The orderlies called him that, I had nothing to do with it. Is that all?" The doctor didn't even wait for a reply, shoving through the door once more.
Left alone in his office Valhendt cocked his head to one side, turning Erik Andler's hospital tag bracelet over in his hands, examining it. After a few moments he set it down and reached into his desk for the files that he knew were there. He pulled one to the top and, using a new label, he covered the old entry on the tab with a smooth motion. Then he pulled out a pen and scrawled a new name on the white sticker, smiling with satisfaction when he placed it back with the others.
Bradley Crawford, Naoe Nagi, Farfarello, and Schuldig. Schwarz.
Nagi's eyes went over and over the report card, trying to think of a way to make it so that the words didn't hurt quite so much. In the columns for grades it was line after line of perfect marks…until you got to physical education. He was too small to be any good at the games that they played. No one wanted to have him on their team because he always got hurt or moved out of the way of the ball. Some of the boys even…
He pushed the thought from his mind. It didn't matter. He was better off now than he'd ever been before. There was no reason for him to complain. If things weren't exactly perfect well…that was his fault wasn't it? He'd just have to try harder. They would be playing tennis soon. Maybe he would be better at that…
"Konbanwa Naoe-kun."
Nagi's head jerked up and he turned to see that one of the girls from his class had fallen into step beside him.
"K..Konbanwa Isoki-chan-" He bit back a cry as an elbow drove itself into his side and his books went flying from his arms. His grade slip followed, landing in a puddle a few feet away.
Raucous laughter filled his ears and he blushed scarlet as he hurried to pick up his things, doing his best to ignore the boys who were walking away from him.
"Jerks."
He blinked, looking up to see Isoki-chan kneeling to help him gather his things. She even bent to retrieve his grade slip, handing it to him with a shy smile.
"You shouldn't pay any attention to them Nagi-kun. They're just jealous because you're smarter than they are."
"Arigato Isoki-chan." He mumbled. He hurriedly finished collecting his things, trying to avoid her gaze.
"You should smile more."
"Nani?" He looked at her, surprised.
She grinned.
"You should smile more often." Then she leaned in so that her lips were next to his ear. "I think you're cute." Then, with a giggle, she darted away. When she was a few feet away she turned and waved at him. "I'll see you tomorrow Nagi-kun."
He felt a tiny smile tug at his lips and he returned the wave a little awkwardly, still blushing furiously. When he set off again his step was a little lighter, and he held his head a little higher as well.
When he arrived back at Tanaka-san's house she was waiting in the kitchen as always, smiling warmly at him. He presented his grade slip and watched with a feeling of joy as her expression filled with pride.
"This is very good Nagi." She said, reaching out to smooth his hair affectionately. "Very, very good." She moved to put it up on the refrigerator where everyone could see it. Then she turned back to him. "Since you're doing so well in school, why don't we have a little celebration before you go off to do your homework?"
Nagi grinned.
"Can…" He licked his lips. "Can we have muffins?"
Tanaka-san laughed. Ever since his first day in her house the boy had shown an amazing love for the western-style breakfast food.
"Yes Nagi. We can have muffins. I'll make them just for you. What kind would you like?"
With that the boy plopped himself into a chair, leaning his chin into his hands as he watched her excitedly.
"Blueberry please Tanaka-san."
"Blueberry it is." She began retrieving the ingredients from the cupboard. "So, how was your day?"
Then she listened as the boy babbled excitedly about his schoolwork, going on about the extra work the teacher had given him and what they were studying in class. She felt a strange pang in her chest however, when she realized that not once, not a single time, did he mention any of the other children.
He opened his eyes, and the first thing that he knew was pain. Every part of his body was screaming with agony; it felt like fire raced through his veins in place of blood. When he gave a tiny cry his voice came out in a hoarse, rasping shout that made him feel as if his vocal chords had been shredded. His head was pounding and felt thick and heavy, as if it were full of hot lead.
"He's awake."
He turned his head and whimpered at the pain it caused. His eyes settled on a tall man who was standing next to his…bed? What was he doing in a bed? The last thing he remembered was being out in the snow and…oh. Well, he thought wryly, that explained why it hurt so much to move. He was probably frostbitten all to hell.
"Heissen Sie Schuldig."
He blinked owlishly. It took several moments for the statement to process and even then it required a few mental acrobatics. Then he remembered the tag bracelet from the hospital, the words of the orderlies…
"Ja. Ich heisse Schuldig."
The man standing over him nodded abruptly and disappeared for a moment. When he returned he was holding a cup full of steaming liquid. He helped the boy sit up and support him while he drank, taking the cup away after a few moments.
"Sprechen Sie Englisch?"
"Yes."
"Good. Do you know where you are?"
"The Rosenkreuz School?"
"Yes. One of our older students found you outside in the snow." The man gave him a stern look. "You were very close to dying you know. We had to have three of our best healers work on you and even then it was a near thing."
"It's not like I had much choice." The boy, Schuldig, snapped grumpily. His head was still pounding and it was putting him in a foul mood.
For several long moments the other man regarded him in stony silence. Then he smiled slightly, and there was a trace of approval in his eyes.
"You may just survive here yet, Schuldig." The man coughed. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to tell our headmaster that you're awake."
"Don't hurry back." Schuldig called after him. Then the door closed and he sagged back against the cot, wincing slightly in pain. "Ah Mutter." He murmured softly. "I'm going to come back for you, I promise."
Some promises cannot be kept.
He lifted his head, eyes wide.
What?
Silence. After a few seconds he lowered his head again, staring up at the plain white of the ceiling.
Just a word of advice, Prophet to Mastermind,
He blinked, straining his thoughts to catch the words and struggling to figure out where they were coming from.
If you ever find yourself in a rather compromising situation…Don't get caught.
Then it was silent once again, and with a grumble Schuldig rolled onto his side.
"Damnit," He muttered sourly. "Now my headache's worse."
The madman was pacing. One-two-three-four-five-six (turn) six-five-four-three-two-one (turn)…He flung himself at the door, slamming both fists against the cold metal until blood spurted and stained it red. He could feel it, could feel the blood pulsing under his skin, could feel the itch in his bones that told him it was coming. Somewhere in the heavens God was crying like a child, because the thing HE feared was finally coming to pass.
"I hear them," He snarled, and bashed his forehead against the metal with a grunt. The skin split and wept blood into his remaining golden eye, the liquid pooling in the hollow where the other eye was not. "I hear them, coming, moving closer."
He reached up with his hands and dug his fingers into his shoulders, using his nails to scrape the skin along his arms and down his sides. The itch, the burn, he couldn't make it stop. Blood was pounding through him, screaming, demanding he acknowledge it.
"I can feel them." He whispered harshly. Then he tilted his head back, fixing his eerie glare on the stones above his door. "I can feel them. They are almost here. He is almost here."
For a moment he was quiet, straining his ears, forcing his body into utter stillness as he strained to pick up whatever it was that hovered on the edge of his senses. Then his entire body shuddered and he gave a fierce howl of rage, throwing himself once again at the door.
This time one hand flashed through the bars and contacted with flesh. Fingers closed and pulled, yanked, dug until they came back wet and gleaming. He laughed, the sound filling the cell and echoing through the hallway as the recently deceased guard fell to the ground, blood pouring from the gaping wound in his throat. He had made the mistake of wandering too close to the door of the cell where the Irish madman was kept, a fate three other guards had met since he'd moved into the basement dungeon of Rosenkreuz school.
After a few moments he danced back into the darkness of his prison, holding his head in his hands and swaying back and forth.
"Coming, coming, coming, coming…" He spun around and fell to his knees, still whispering softly. "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit," He rasped. "Amen, amen, amen, amen." He bowed his head, clasping his hands in front of him. "God must confess. He has done wrong, he must confess!"
He leapt to his feet and staggered to the far wall.
"CONFESS! The Wolf is coming and he will not let you be! He will eat your sheep whole and we will bathe in their blood! The Wolf is coming! The Fox is here! Their blood is in the air, I smell them."
Then he could hear the feet thundering down the distant stairs and he knew they were coming again. The same ones who had come before with their gifts and the things that made him sleep. He backed into the corning, hissing low in his throat and glaring in defiance at the door.
"The Wolf is coming." He whispered darkly. Then he shuddered. The blood burned, it itched, it demanded his attention.
He fell silent, and felt satisfaction as the rabbits stumbled to a halt outside the door.
They were standing in the open courtyard, almost lost in the shadow of the school where it towered over them. Almost the moment that they'd set foot on the property Yume had changed. She had set her shoulders and lifted her chin, revealing dark eyes that were as solid and unyielding as stone. When she walked it was with long, confident strides and not once in their journey down the mile drive had she hesitated, or tried to look back.
The differences, Bradley noted as he walked half a step behind her, were not entirely physical. He had the sense that something about her personality was altered, that some fundamental element that made her who she was had been safely locked away. The knowledge unnerved him, and not for the first time in the past few days he wondered what kind of place Rosenkreuz was, to cause such a change.
"Yume…"
She didn't even pause in her step.
"What is it?"
"I don't like this." He said softly, reaching for her hand. "What are we doing here?"
"What are you talking about Crawford? You're the one who wanted to come here."
He flinched. Why was she calling him by his last name? It was all so strange…it didn't make any sense…He lurched in his step, gasping softly as his sight blurred and faded into something else. His entire body jerked once and he fell to his knees in the snow, not even realizing it as he gazed at something far behind human sight.
"Do it Schuldig!"
"But I…"
"Do it, or I shall send you back to be a rat in the hospital lab."
The young man looked stricken, his fiery hair contrasting his suddenly death-white skin. He lowered his head and muttered a feeble agreement before turning, facing someone he could not see…
"I'm sorry." The young man, Schuldig, whispered. "Please, forgive me."
Then he did something. It was enough to rattle Bradley's bones and make him clench his teeth against the wrenching rush of power that flooded the room. For a minute it hurt to breathe and then…
"I'm sorry, do I know you?"
He opened his eyes, and it was Yume standing there with a confused expression on her face, not a flicker of recognition in her eyes…
"Crawford."
He blinked, raised his head. Yume was kneeling in front of him, looking directly into his eyes. There was a slight frown on her lips and he could finally read her expression, could see the concern wedged tightly behind the mask that she had put on. Relief flooded him and he gave a tight smile, a nod.
"Shall we go?" He asked a little roughly, climbing to his feet and gesturing for her to continue.
For a moment she regarded him with a strange wariness in her eyes. Finally however she gave a curt nod and began walking once more. Bradley followed without another thought, forcing his mind away from the vision that had so violently assaulted him a few seconds before.
Something bad was going to happen. If he took a moment to think about it, to reflect on the vision and try to see more, he knew, he would find out what it was. Yet he did not. He merely followed his girlfriend in through the elaborately carved doors and into the main hall of the school.
Whatever it was, whatever was going to destroy his world in the next few hours….
He didn't want to know.
Valhendt watched the two moving through the courtyard, recognized the tense stance that Hito had assumed the moment she stepped through the gate. They would be entering the main hall in just a few minutes and the game would finally begin. He would set things in motion that would carry them all along for the next ten years and ensure that, finally, he would have what he had always wanted.
His motives were his own. Moraven had known most of it through the accident of her gift but even she had never been able to guess at his reasons, at his ultimate goal. She only shook her head with a wry smile and patted his knee with sympathy and affection.
"You're going to get yourself killed one day my friend. This little game of yours is going to claim your life."
He always smiled back at her, taking another sip of the tea that she always insisted on brewing for him, and he would say,
"I know." Then he would cock his head to one side. "Could you pass the cookies?"
He heaved a weary sigh and stood up, moving slowly toward the door. If he didn't go now he would miss them. This wouldn't work if he didn't show up, that much he knew for certain. He had to be there, for more than one reason. She deserved his presence at least, with what he was preparing to do…
As he began to descend the winding staircase that led into the main hall he idly wondered what Moraven would say if she were here.
You've got a world of heartache ahead of you, old friend. You're going to destroy a world.
He smiled at her voice in his head and replied in kind.
Ah, but I am going to create one as well. That is the payoff.
There was a sigh, and he felt an inexplicable sadness wash over him.
Whatever you say babe. Whatever you say.
Yeah...no comment.