Castle Down
folder
Wei� Kreuz › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
1,621
Reviews:
16
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Wei� Kreuz › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
1,621
Reviews:
16
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Weiß Kreuz, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Prologue - Second-Hand Faith
Go ahead and read my fortune
Cast your dice divine my fate
I just want to know I have one
Tell me that it's not too late ...
--
"So, tell me why we're here again?" He drawled, pausing briefly to kick at a piece of concrete. It crumbled under the force of his boot, turning into smaller bits of rubble. He scowled over at his partner, who was painstakingly moving everything.
"Crawford," he tried again, still garnering no response. "Crawford! It's freezing out here. It's the middle of the god-damned night. He's probably dead anyway." He wrapped his arms around his chest, hugging his jacket tighter.
The precog continued ignoring him happily, pausing every few moments to peer into the darkness. The cops and firetrucks had already been and gone for the night, waiting for day to continue their exploration. "Damn fine idea," Schuldig opined nastily to himself.
"Here," Crawford said finally, speaking for the first time since they'd arrived. "Help me move this."
"Excuse me?" Schuldig eyed the enormous slab of concrete that had once belonged to the Miyakamo Industries office building. It had to weigh a few hundred pounds at the least. "If he's under that he's probably been squished flat as a bug anyway, and I really don't need to see guts tonight, I was hoping to sleep. You know, sleep, it's what us lesser humans do after midnight."
Crawford ignored him, instead looking for a good handhold on the concrete. Schuldig rolled his eyes. "This is Nagi's work," he offered, and then moved over to Crawford. "If you throw your back out, I'm not carrying you home," he said, and helped the prescient lift the concrete. After a moment, he gasped, "If I throw my back out, you'd BETTER carry me!"
"I will," Crawford promised solemnly, giving the concrete one last push. It tumbled over backwards, raising a terrible noise as it crushed some of the things it had fallen onto.
"Well, he's either damn lucky, or someone hates him," Schuldig said. "Especially if he thought he was going to die." The slab he'd been under had been held up off his body by the angles of rubble he'd fallen into. Blood had seeped into his hair and clothes from the few scrapes and wounds he'd accumulated, but he appeared to be whole.
"He still might," Crawford reminded him. Schuldig glowered.
"Then why the fuck are we here? We should just let him be." Crawford deigned to not dignify that with any response, and instead bent to gather the body of the boy they'd come to collect.
"He'll be useful," was all he offered.
"Tch. Useful. I remember your definition of 'useful,' Crawford, and in no way does it match up with what the rest of us consider it to be."
--
TBC
Song is Second Hand Faith by Emilie Autumn.
Cast your dice divine my fate
I just want to know I have one
Tell me that it's not too late ...
--
"So, tell me why we're here again?" He drawled, pausing briefly to kick at a piece of concrete. It crumbled under the force of his boot, turning into smaller bits of rubble. He scowled over at his partner, who was painstakingly moving everything.
"Crawford," he tried again, still garnering no response. "Crawford! It's freezing out here. It's the middle of the god-damned night. He's probably dead anyway." He wrapped his arms around his chest, hugging his jacket tighter.
The precog continued ignoring him happily, pausing every few moments to peer into the darkness. The cops and firetrucks had already been and gone for the night, waiting for day to continue their exploration. "Damn fine idea," Schuldig opined nastily to himself.
"Here," Crawford said finally, speaking for the first time since they'd arrived. "Help me move this."
"Excuse me?" Schuldig eyed the enormous slab of concrete that had once belonged to the Miyakamo Industries office building. It had to weigh a few hundred pounds at the least. "If he's under that he's probably been squished flat as a bug anyway, and I really don't need to see guts tonight, I was hoping to sleep. You know, sleep, it's what us lesser humans do after midnight."
Crawford ignored him, instead looking for a good handhold on the concrete. Schuldig rolled his eyes. "This is Nagi's work," he offered, and then moved over to Crawford. "If you throw your back out, I'm not carrying you home," he said, and helped the prescient lift the concrete. After a moment, he gasped, "If I throw my back out, you'd BETTER carry me!"
"I will," Crawford promised solemnly, giving the concrete one last push. It tumbled over backwards, raising a terrible noise as it crushed some of the things it had fallen onto.
"Well, he's either damn lucky, or someone hates him," Schuldig said. "Especially if he thought he was going to die." The slab he'd been under had been held up off his body by the angles of rubble he'd fallen into. Blood had seeped into his hair and clothes from the few scrapes and wounds he'd accumulated, but he appeared to be whole.
"He still might," Crawford reminded him. Schuldig glowered.
"Then why the fuck are we here? We should just let him be." Crawford deigned to not dignify that with any response, and instead bent to gather the body of the boy they'd come to collect.
"He'll be useful," was all he offered.
"Tch. Useful. I remember your definition of 'useful,' Crawford, and in no way does it match up with what the rest of us consider it to be."
--
TBC
Song is Second Hand Faith by Emilie Autumn.