Weiss Crossed
folder
Wei� Kreuz › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,174
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Wei� Kreuz › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,174
Reviews:
1
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.
Dirty Knives
Schuldig looked disdainfully down at his sandwich.
“Eat your food, Schuldig,” Crawford said, still unwrapping the paper from his own.
“Why Swiss cheese?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s just cheese.”
Schuldig sighed and sat back. “I just don’t get it. I feel gypped. There should be more cheese there.”
Crawford ignored his teammate and focused on his own lunch. He knew that anything he said would trap him in Schuldig’s game. Silence was the only option, but that only worked until Schuldig moved on to the next thing. He was glad when Farfarello entered the kitchen, sniffing the air.
Farfarello zeroed in on the food in record time and took Schuldig’s sandwich. “I love Swiss cheese.”
Crawford smirked.
Schuldig rolled his eyes. “You only like it because the holes remind you of stab wounds.”
Farfarellos stopped suddenly and put the sandwich down. He went to cabinet and started searching frantically. “Where are the knives? Why did you move the knives?”
A slow smile spread across Schuldig’s face.
Farfarello spun around to glare at the two of them. “Why do you move them? I need a knife!”
Crawford stood up, glaring at Schuldig. The knives were never where they should be. Everyday there was a hunt for them. They were usually found bundled in a towel and hidden in some far corner of the kitchen. He’d suspected that Schuldig was behind if for some time. The German had a cruel sense of humor.
“Why do you need a knife, Farfarello? It’s a sandwich, not a steak,” Crawford poked around the cabinets and drawers, helping in the search.
“I have to lick it.”
Schuldig cackled from his seat, “For luck! He has to lick it for luck!”
Crawford paused, not entirely believing Schuldig. To Fafarello, “Where is your ice pick?”
“In the bathroom. “
“Why is it in the bathroom?”
“I left it there after I licked it.”
A terrible thought suddenly occurred to Crawford, eliciting more laughter from the prankster. “Farfarello, do you lick all of the knives?”
“Yes.”
“Do you wash them when you’re done?”
Farfarello looked blankly at Crawford with his good eye.
Crawford found the knives behind the canned food that no one wanted to eat. He pulled them out and gingerly set them on the counter. “Wash them when you’re done.” He picked up his sandwich and took it to his office.
Farfarello ecstatically drew one of the blades and licked it, leaving a thin line of expanding red on his tongue. Then he returned to Schuldig’s side and took the sandwich. He shook his head as he took a bite. With a mouth full of bread, meat, and cheese, he said, “Bullet holes, not stab wounds.”
“Eat your food, Schuldig,” Crawford said, still unwrapping the paper from his own.
“Why Swiss cheese?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s just cheese.”
Schuldig sighed and sat back. “I just don’t get it. I feel gypped. There should be more cheese there.”
Crawford ignored his teammate and focused on his own lunch. He knew that anything he said would trap him in Schuldig’s game. Silence was the only option, but that only worked until Schuldig moved on to the next thing. He was glad when Farfarello entered the kitchen, sniffing the air.
Farfarello zeroed in on the food in record time and took Schuldig’s sandwich. “I love Swiss cheese.”
Crawford smirked.
Schuldig rolled his eyes. “You only like it because the holes remind you of stab wounds.”
Farfarellos stopped suddenly and put the sandwich down. He went to cabinet and started searching frantically. “Where are the knives? Why did you move the knives?”
A slow smile spread across Schuldig’s face.
Farfarello spun around to glare at the two of them. “Why do you move them? I need a knife!”
Crawford stood up, glaring at Schuldig. The knives were never where they should be. Everyday there was a hunt for them. They were usually found bundled in a towel and hidden in some far corner of the kitchen. He’d suspected that Schuldig was behind if for some time. The German had a cruel sense of humor.
“Why do you need a knife, Farfarello? It’s a sandwich, not a steak,” Crawford poked around the cabinets and drawers, helping in the search.
“I have to lick it.”
Schuldig cackled from his seat, “For luck! He has to lick it for luck!”
Crawford paused, not entirely believing Schuldig. To Fafarello, “Where is your ice pick?”
“In the bathroom. “
“Why is it in the bathroom?”
“I left it there after I licked it.”
A terrible thought suddenly occurred to Crawford, eliciting more laughter from the prankster. “Farfarello, do you lick all of the knives?”
“Yes.”
“Do you wash them when you’re done?”
Farfarello looked blankly at Crawford with his good eye.
Crawford found the knives behind the canned food that no one wanted to eat. He pulled them out and gingerly set them on the counter. “Wash them when you’re done.” He picked up his sandwich and took it to his office.
Farfarello ecstatically drew one of the blades and licked it, leaving a thin line of expanding red on his tongue. Then he returned to Schuldig’s side and took the sandwich. He shook his head as he took a bite. With a mouth full of bread, meat, and cheese, he said, “Bullet holes, not stab wounds.”