Weiss Kreuz
Zwei
Author's Note: I don't own Weiss or anything affiliated with it. Please send feedback, this is my first fanfic .
Prologue Part Two:
-Bogenschutze-
-Archer-
The forests of the mountain valley were quiet in the early twilight hour. The Aspen trees rustled as the cool mountain breeze flowed by. Pines swayed softly as the outline of a man was crouched on a thick branch of a tree. The form had been waiting for an hour biding its time until its target appeared long enough for it to strike.
That's when the house that the shadow had been surveying went aflame with activity. Brushing a few branches out of the way the hunter peered down upon the house, looking through the windows. Seeing his target the man drew back on his weapon, a silver arrow glinting in the fading moonlight. He took his aim and waited until he was sure he had a clear shot of the ragged looking elder that was destined to die.
There were other people in the house though, much to the Hunter's regret. He had to make sure he only shot his target. Hitting any others outside of his mission was plain murder, something in which the Hidden One didn't want to happen. He relaxed his bow, lowering the arrow and waited again, hoping to get the mission of his over with before it became too cloudy and too dark to draw a proper bead.
A drug transaction was taking place during this sudden change of weather. There were four men plus the target huddled around a make-shift table, haggling over a mysterious white powder in plastic bags.
That must be the toxin-laced cocaine that's claiming lives of the innocent, thought the hidden hunter.
That's when it hit him; he had to eliminate the target right then, or if he waited until the deal was over, the drug will still be out on the streets! Knocking the arrow back in place, the man drew back again and took careful aim.
The target was fighting aggressively to get his worth out of the buyers, this cause the men to huddle and lean in together ruining the archer's shot.
C'mon, c'mon! Move all ready!
After a few moments the target smiled and nodded in agreement with the other men, they leaned back and relax. Thunder cracked through the night air and gradually the raindrops began to fall. Plummeting down the branches, the droplets soaked the archer's hair and trickled down his fair skin which illuminated in the lightning's wake.
The prey stood alone while the other men sat still.
NOW!
The hunter released his shot. The arrow sliced through the air hundreds of feet until it shattered the glass window and found a place to rest; embedded in the heart of the evil beast. The target never had a chance, it was pegged against a wall, torrents of blood gushed forth as the four other dealers panicked. They run out of the log cabin scattering in all directions. However the last to leave was wise enough to take the drugs that were for sale.
The hunter frowned realizing another plan. He bade to jump down but the bark was too slippery! Instead the sniper lost its traction and fell upon the chestnut earth along with the branch that he had crouched on. It had broken due to the weight it held for so long, which meant bad news for the hunter. The last drug dealer heard the hunter's shout and the crack of the branch, and had drawn a small hand gun to find the culprit.
A surprised look came the hunter and he stood; knocking another arrow in place. The rogue drug addict came forth toward him finally seeing his figure in the lightning strike. Eyes finally adjusted correctly to the dark, the hunter knelt after the druggie fired a few round taking careful aim.
Don't screw this one up. You shoot him and that's the game, he warned himself.
The druggie shouted something inaudible due to the thunder crashing around them, but the archer didn't want to hear it. He shot his arrow and it found its target perfectly once again. The pistol that was held tightly was sharply knocked free from the drug dealer's hand. Gaping in shock the dealer froze, just enough for the soaking hunter to leap up and run at the opposing figure.
Obeying his orders not to kill outsiders, the archer dodged past the evildoer and snapped his arm down sharply at the back of the other's neck. The dealer fell to the ground unconscious, leaving the archer standing alone. Brushing the clinging dirt and mud off of its crimson overcoat, the archer's gloved hand reached into a pocket and brandished a cell phone.
Punching a few buttons the hunter spoke with a young voice,
"Bengal to Persia; Mission Report. Mission Complete. Will commence clean up operations."
Snapping the cell shut, the archer known as "Bengal" ran a fingerless gloved hand through his wet curly hair thinking of what to do now. The gunshots probably caught the attention of the neighbors who were a mere half of a mile away. Deep eyes narrowed and then opened in attention at an idea.
Wielding his cell once again, Bengal called the famous three digit number.
"Something terrible has happened at the Pine Villa Cabins," Bengal spoke to the emergency dispatch on the other end, " You better send someone quick, I heard gunshots!"
He shut the cell before the dispatch could ask anything. With an untraceable number and voice altering device on the phone, all Bengal had to do was disappear into the shadows. Which he did, brushing more dirt off of the arm band he wore, revealing a red cross in the flashes of lightning.