Switchblade Serenade
folder
Wei� Kreuz › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
1,873
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Wei� Kreuz › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
1,873
Reviews:
2
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.
Tears of Fire pt 1
DISCLAIMER: I don\'t own the song Tears of Fire, it belongs to a wonderful band named Keel, copyright 1990. If you can find one of their albums, I suggest getting it!
TEARS OF FIRE pt 1
Wounded angel came to me,
Broken heart in agony.
Seeking answers, he cried to me in shame,
Hopelessness filled my eyes with pain.
The mission was fucked. Aya limped from the soon-to-be demolished building, slightly ahead of the others and cursing under his breath. Just behind him, Ken supported an injured Omi. And Yohji ghosted from shadow to shadow; the only thing separating him from the murky gloom of the night was the white crosses on his sleeves. The tall, slender Eurasian hobbled behind the younger members of the team, keeping an eye on them and occasionally glancing in Aya’s direction.
The operation had gone off without a hitch…until it was time for the team to make their escape. The target had died and the explosives were set. That’s where their luck ran out. All the information Kritiker had gathered and their own careful surveillance failed to find a second, voice-activated security system. As the Yakuza lord they were sent to eradicate gasped out his final breath he uttered a single, devastating, unusual word, “Cockerel.” As the last syllable passed through blood-flecked lips all hell broke loose.
Steel security gates came crashing down with the final sound of metal hitting cement. All access that Omi had gotten at the beginning of the job ceased to exist and a burst of energy lambasted his laptop, totally frying the circuits. A hidden armada of men erupted from their hiding places throughout the complex. And a simple hit-and-run attack ended up being an unmitigated mess. Somehow, they had managed to escape from the roiling pool of humanity with only minor injuries.
Aya threw a glare over his shoulder. Ken and Omi were taking too long to cross the expanse of parking lot between the building and the area where they had hidden their vehicle. And Yohji had fallen behind, his sensitive ears picking up some sound or another. Aya glowered in the blonde’s direction, still not having the comprehension to understand why the golden man felt the need to sleep with the sadistic telepath from Schwarz. Not that he wanted anything to do with either man; sex was a distraction that he could ill afford. He had decided over the last two years that he was totally and completely asexual. Granted that he did masturbate, but other than that, he lacked the powerful drive that seemed to dictate the other men’s actions.
A flash of light, the ear-piercing squeal of tires and the acrid smell of burning rubber broke into Aya’s musing. He could see Yohji standing in the middle of the lot and the bright car lights had him pinned to the spot, like a rabbit on the highway. Everything slowed, every movement becoming clear, articulated, and time moved on snail’s legs. The awful happenings of two years ago flashed through his mind, but instead of Aya-chan, the body that flew through the air had sweat-soaked golden hair and a pair of sunglasses.
“Yohji!” he screamed, reaching an impotent hand back toward the taller assassin. Omi and Ken echoed his cry. The former athlete scooped up the teenager and raced back to their fallen comrade’s side. Omi already had his cell phone out and had contacted Manx (the kid must have her number on speed dial) and was receiving his instructions from the woman. Aya stood where he had been when the accident happened, his mind frozen in shock and busy replaying the events of the last few seconds.
The sin-black sports car flew past him, but the sound of Omi’s crossbow firing barely registered with the shocked man. The bolt hit the speeding vehicle with a resounding thwack and a fountain of gas came spewing out of the hole. Ken bent over the fallen Yohji and dug frantically through the pockets of his trench coat until he located the items that he needed. Standing up, he drew a cigarette from the slightly crumpled pack, turned it around and lit the filter end. The cotton flared to life and he dropped it into the quickly spreading line of gasoline. The flammable fluid caught fire and the flames chased after the rapidly disappearing car. Twelve seconds after the vehicle vanished from sight, an explosion ignited the darkness into near daylight for half a minute then the flames died to dull glow.
Aya stood frozen, unable to force his stiff limbs to cover the short distance between him and the rest of the team. His body shook so hard in shock that his katana rattled in its sheath.
“Aya, get your shit together and get over here,” Omi barked, trying to awaken their stunned leader. “Yohji needs us now; you can have your breakdown after we get him to safety. Move it Fujimiya!”
“Come on, Aya,” Ken coaxed. “We can’t get him to the van without your help. Come on, just a few more steps.” Aya stumbled toward the calm, reasonable voice. “That’s it, Aya. Just a little more. Good, now take Omi, put him in the van, and then bring back one of the boards that we’ve used for deliveries. You know the ones I’m talking about, right?”
Aya nodded his understanding and picked up the smallest member of the group. Omi’s negligible weight barely slowed the swordsman down. The keys slipped from his pocket into the small blonde’s hands and with the push of a button, the vehicle’s locks were sprung and the doors open. He deposited Omi in the driver’s seat - his left leg being the one injured - leaving his right one free for driving the van over to the accident site. The redhead opened the back door, pulled out a reinforced piece of plywood, and dragged it back over to the fallen figure. The rough wood bit into his fingers and the tarry scent of pine filled his nostrils. Somehow, the whole catastrophe seemed like a dream. Nothing appeared real, the entire thing felt like a bad joke or a nightmare created by Mastermind.
A slight figure with braids superimposed itself over the tall, lanky figure sprawled on the unforgiving pavement. The events of his sister’s accident replayed in Aya’s mind along with the dull thump of Yohji’s body hitting the front grill of the car. This couldn’t really be happening. He wasn’t going to be forced to relive another crash. He had killed Takatori, had joined the Weiss in order to gain retribution for the man’s callous attack on his sweet baby sister. He had become a murderer in order to seal the man’s fate. Now the corrupt politician rested in hell, paying the devil for every cold, unfeeling act he ever committed. The men that struck Yohji had joined him and their boss in the cold, darkness of hell. But the team was still left a member short and there would be no guarantee that the slender blonde would ever rejoin them.
“Aya!” Ken shouted. “Get your head out of your ass and help me!”
“Huh? What?” Aya shook his head like a dog to clear his thoughts. “Sorry,” he muttered while helping Ken load the injured Yohji onto the board. They rolled him like a log, keeping his neck perfectly lined up with his spine. Hopefully, that would be enough to avoid any spinal cord injuries and leave the blonde ready and able to work.
“Hurry!” Omi called back to his teammates, his attention focused on the police band radio they had in the van. “The fire department is only about three blocks away and there’s a patrol car closer than that. We need to get out of here before we’re seen.”
“Right,” Ken shot back. “Omittchi, can you reach the bungee cords in the console?”
“Got ‘em, Ken.” The little blonde threw the cords to his teammate and slowly moved into the passenger’s seat, leaving the driver’s side open for Ken. At this point in the game, neither he nor Ken really trusted Aya with something like driving - the redhead’s focus appeared to shattered by the accident.
Ken, with Aya’s help, quickly secured Yohji to the makeshift backboard and they loaded him into the back of the van. Aya sat on the floor next to him and stroked the long, blonde tresses away from the man’s face. Only then did he notice that some of the golden strands were coated in blood; the viscous fluid caused clumps of his hair to cling together and trap Aya’s fingers. Ken slipped behind the wheel of the vehicle and began to maneuver his way out of the area; lights off and moving wraithlike from shadow to shadow. As soon as they were out of the immediate vicinity, he flipped on the lights and headed for Magicbus hospital. Manx would meet them there and someone would tend to their various wounds, bruises and abrasions.
Wounded angel came to me,
Broken heart in agony.
Seeking answers, he cried to me in shame,
Hopelessness filled my eyes with pain.
The mission was fucked. Aya limped from the soon-to-be demolished building, slightly ahead of the others and cursing under his breath. Just behind him, Ken supported an injured Omi. And Yohji ghosted from shadow to shadow; the only thing separating him from the murky gloom of the night was the white crosses on his sleeves. The tall, slender Eurasian hobbled behind the younger members of the team, keeping an eye on them and occasionally glancing in Aya’s direction.
The operation had gone off without a hitch…until it was time for the team to make their escape. The target had died and the explosives were set. That’s where their luck ran out. All the information Kritiker had gathered and their own careful surveillance failed to find a second, voice-activated security system. As the Yakuza lord they were sent to eradicate gasped out his final breath he uttered a single, devastating, unusual word, “Cockerel.” As the last syllable passed through blood-flecked lips all hell broke loose.
Steel security gates came crashing down with the final sound of metal hitting cement. All access that Omi had gotten at the beginning of the job ceased to exist and a burst of energy lambasted his laptop, totally frying the circuits. A hidden armada of men erupted from their hiding places throughout the complex. And a simple hit-and-run attack ended up being an unmitigated mess. Somehow, they had managed to escape from the roiling pool of humanity with only minor injuries.
Aya threw a glare over his shoulder. Ken and Omi were taking too long to cross the expanse of parking lot between the building and the area where they had hidden their vehicle. And Yohji had fallen behind, his sensitive ears picking up some sound or another. Aya glowered in the blonde’s direction, still not having the comprehension to understand why the golden man felt the need to sleep with the sadistic telepath from Schwarz. Not that he wanted anything to do with either man; sex was a distraction that he could ill afford. He had decided over the last two years that he was totally and completely asexual. Granted that he did masturbate, but other than that, he lacked the powerful drive that seemed to dictate the other men’s actions.
A flash of light, the ear-piercing squeal of tires and the acrid smell of burning rubber broke into Aya’s musing. He could see Yohji standing in the middle of the lot and the bright car lights had him pinned to the spot, like a rabbit on the highway. Everything slowed, every movement becoming clear, articulated, and time moved on snail’s legs. The awful happenings of two years ago flashed through his mind, but instead of Aya-chan, the body that flew through the air had sweat-soaked golden hair and a pair of sunglasses.
“Yohji!” he screamed, reaching an impotent hand back toward the taller assassin. Omi and Ken echoed his cry. The former athlete scooped up the teenager and raced back to their fallen comrade’s side. Omi already had his cell phone out and had contacted Manx (the kid must have her number on speed dial) and was receiving his instructions from the woman. Aya stood where he had been when the accident happened, his mind frozen in shock and busy replaying the events of the last few seconds.
The sin-black sports car flew past him, but the sound of Omi’s crossbow firing barely registered with the shocked man. The bolt hit the speeding vehicle with a resounding thwack and a fountain of gas came spewing out of the hole. Ken bent over the fallen Yohji and dug frantically through the pockets of his trench coat until he located the items that he needed. Standing up, he drew a cigarette from the slightly crumpled pack, turned it around and lit the filter end. The cotton flared to life and he dropped it into the quickly spreading line of gasoline. The flammable fluid caught fire and the flames chased after the rapidly disappearing car. Twelve seconds after the vehicle vanished from sight, an explosion ignited the darkness into near daylight for half a minute then the flames died to dull glow.
Aya stood frozen, unable to force his stiff limbs to cover the short distance between him and the rest of the team. His body shook so hard in shock that his katana rattled in its sheath.
“Aya, get your shit together and get over here,” Omi barked, trying to awaken their stunned leader. “Yohji needs us now; you can have your breakdown after we get him to safety. Move it Fujimiya!”
“Come on, Aya,” Ken coaxed. “We can’t get him to the van without your help. Come on, just a few more steps.” Aya stumbled toward the calm, reasonable voice. “That’s it, Aya. Just a little more. Good, now take Omi, put him in the van, and then bring back one of the boards that we’ve used for deliveries. You know the ones I’m talking about, right?”
Aya nodded his understanding and picked up the smallest member of the group. Omi’s negligible weight barely slowed the swordsman down. The keys slipped from his pocket into the small blonde’s hands and with the push of a button, the vehicle’s locks were sprung and the doors open. He deposited Omi in the driver’s seat - his left leg being the one injured - leaving his right one free for driving the van over to the accident site. The redhead opened the back door, pulled out a reinforced piece of plywood, and dragged it back over to the fallen figure. The rough wood bit into his fingers and the tarry scent of pine filled his nostrils. Somehow, the whole catastrophe seemed like a dream. Nothing appeared real, the entire thing felt like a bad joke or a nightmare created by Mastermind.
A slight figure with braids superimposed itself over the tall, lanky figure sprawled on the unforgiving pavement. The events of his sister’s accident replayed in Aya’s mind along with the dull thump of Yohji’s body hitting the front grill of the car. This couldn’t really be happening. He wasn’t going to be forced to relive another crash. He had killed Takatori, had joined the Weiss in order to gain retribution for the man’s callous attack on his sweet baby sister. He had become a murderer in order to seal the man’s fate. Now the corrupt politician rested in hell, paying the devil for every cold, unfeeling act he ever committed. The men that struck Yohji had joined him and their boss in the cold, darkness of hell. But the team was still left a member short and there would be no guarantee that the slender blonde would ever rejoin them.
“Aya!” Ken shouted. “Get your head out of your ass and help me!”
“Huh? What?” Aya shook his head like a dog to clear his thoughts. “Sorry,” he muttered while helping Ken load the injured Yohji onto the board. They rolled him like a log, keeping his neck perfectly lined up with his spine. Hopefully, that would be enough to avoid any spinal cord injuries and leave the blonde ready and able to work.
“Hurry!” Omi called back to his teammates, his attention focused on the police band radio they had in the van. “The fire department is only about three blocks away and there’s a patrol car closer than that. We need to get out of here before we’re seen.”
“Right,” Ken shot back. “Omittchi, can you reach the bungee cords in the console?”
“Got ‘em, Ken.” The little blonde threw the cords to his teammate and slowly moved into the passenger’s seat, leaving the driver’s side open for Ken. At this point in the game, neither he nor Ken really trusted Aya with something like driving - the redhead’s focus appeared to shattered by the accident.
Ken, with Aya’s help, quickly secured Yohji to the makeshift backboard and they loaded him into the back of the van. Aya sat on the floor next to him and stroked the long, blonde tresses away from the man’s face. Only then did he notice that some of the golden strands were coated in blood; the viscous fluid caused clumps of his hair to cling together and trap Aya’s fingers. Ken slipped behind the wheel of the vehicle and began to maneuver his way out of the area; lights off and moving wraithlike from shadow to shadow. As soon as they were out of the immediate vicinity, he flipped on the lights and headed for Magicbus hospital. Manx would meet them there and someone would tend to their various wounds, bruises and abrasions.