Lone Unfaltering Shadow/Thousandth Shattering Soul

04/24/06

Hello all! Well, I love WHR, I love fanfiction, and I love writing! So, now I have my own fanfiction to share with all of you!

My goals and objectives with this fanfiction are:
*To share my vision of what happened after the factory collapse
*To gain experience with developing and writing a plot
*To gain experience with character development
*To gain experience writing sexual tension and sexual scenes

I would love to hear your feedback of course! Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own or profit from Witch Hunter Robin

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Lone Unfaltering Shadow Thousandth Shattering Soul:

“Oh Lord, grant me strength. Give me courage to accept the truth, whatever it may be.”

I’m a…witch. I’m a manufactured witch.

*****

“I hear screams. They’re crying.”

Hundreds of voices. Hundreds of pleas. Fear. So much fear. It’s unbearable. They’re suffering so much! I can’t leave them like this! I can’t!

The force of their deaths crashed over the young witch hunter who had granted them mercy…taken their lives…killed them all. Power like nothing she had ever felt slammed over her and though it was merely the blink of an eye, she had felt centuries of suffering rape her soul. And then it was over. She stood there, hollow, not knowing what to do or where to go. Not knowing how to make things right once more. She felt…numb.

*****
The Factory was collapsing. It was imploding, about to crumble around them at any moment! Alarms were sounding, shrill and loud. A red warning light blared on and off obnoxiously as they ran through the halls to the elevator shaft. The ladder was their only chance. Karasuma reached the doors first as Amon pushed a dazed Robin along in front of him. Grunting he pushed Karasuma out of the way and pried the doors open and helped Karasuma on to the ladder. The blare of the alarm was pounding through his head, the light straining his eyes, and he felt the impending doom of the collapsing building weighing down on them as he turned to help Robin onto the ladder, but she wasn’t there.

Amon’s gaze shot to the end of the darkened hall in alarm and spotted the hem of her black dress fluttering around the corner they had just rounded.

“Shit! Robin!” He yelled.

“Amon! Robin! Hurry!” Karasuma’s scared screams could be heard floating down the shaft she was ascending.

Amon stuck his head through the door and yelled. “Keep going!”

Then he was running down the hall after the young hunter. What the hell is she thinking!”

He was much faster than she and he caught up to her in mere seconds, but as he grabbed her and yanked her around, he found her crying. She fought him, twisting, clawing, begging to be let go.

“Amon! Let me go! You have to get out of here! Please!” She begged brokenly with tears streaming down her pale cheeks as she pushed at him.

Amon was confused to say the least. Angrily he tightened his hold on her arm and forcefully began dragging her down the hall.

“Robin, this is no time to be childish.” He growled shortly as he yanked her along.

Abruptly she threw all of her weight into her halt and succeeded in tripping both of them. She screamed as they spilled into a heap onto the floor. Amon sat up, stunned, as the fiery blond began to yell at him.

“Amon! Go! Leave me! LEAVE ME! I killed them! I killed….them all…” Her eyes, normally disturbingly clear and knowing were clouded over with grief. “They were screaming…” She whispered in a tear choked voice. “I deserve to die with them. I…burned them all…”

*CRACK*

Amon didn’t have a choice. He knocked the hysterical young woman unconscious and heaving the small limp form over his shoulder, began to run back through the hall to the elevator shaft. The alarm was getting higher pitched now, and the blinking warning lights were blinking faster now. He could feel the building shuddering now. He made it to the shaft, panting and craned his neck to look up at the ladder. It was very slim and there was very little to hold onto.

I won’t make it up with Robin. The startling declaration screamed through his mind. Just when he was sure he could trust her, he was going to have to either leave her, or die with her.

No! He cut his own inner logical thoughts and conclusions to a halt.

He peered at the ladder again and reached for it, but as soon as he touched it, he knew he wouldn’t make it up with her on his shoulders. He looked down. The red lights blinked, lighting up the descending shaft and he had a sudden thought. The blue prints they had been examining with Michael when they had decided to infiltrate the Factory were fairly detailed, and he distinctly remembered a tunnel. The main sewage line that ran out of the Factory and into the sewage lakes was sure to be down below the building.

Another great shudder rocked the building and Amon caught himself before he toppled over into the shaft. The entire structure was about to come down.

Amon made up his mind.

He jumped.

Mere seconds later, he was running as fast as he could with his unconscious burden through a tunnel that, to his dismay and utter disbelief abruptly ended. It just stopped. A wall of cement stood before him now and he was trapped under the falling building.

Just look around. It’s got to be here. He told himself calmly as he searched the rounded walls around him, and then he saw it as he turned. The manhole was only a few feet behind him. He had passed it!

“Fuck!” He growled as he tossed Robin onto the ground and pried at the cover. It was heavy and sealed with years of decay and rust, but it came open with a hiss and Amon caught himself before he let out a cry of relief. Then the walls, the ground, the very earth, it seemed, began to shake. It had begun. The massive structure was collapsing in on itself, burying the secrets of its dark research and decades of study, testing, abuse, and the crimes against humanity that it housed.

Amon grabbed Robin once more and threw her into the hole, and then jumped into the darkness after her.


*****

It was raining.

It came down in a steady sheet and seemed to engulf Robin as she struggled to open her eyes against the bright light and the pouring rain. Her jaw throbbed and the steady roar of the rain only contributed to the absolute pounding of her head. “Ugh.” She moaned as she attempted to sit up, and promptly lost her footing on the unusually slippery surface she was laying on. Puzzled, she blinked against the rain and squinting, looked around at her surroundings.

It was not raining.

Robin braced herself on the side of the rather small tub she was laying in and dragged herself up into the spray of the shower. She stood there for just a moment breathing in and out, her sight blurring and her head swimming from the sudden vertical position. “Ugh.” She moaned again.

It was then that she realized that she was standing in a foreign bathtub, under a running shower, still completely clothed. Slowly she looked around trying to remember just how she got there, but nothing was coming to mind. The very last thing she remembered was….

The very last thing she remembered was what she had done to all of those witches. Those poor people, captured, trapped, and held captive, drained of their powers and essence for the production of the disgusting contamination that was the orbo. She had killed them all. She had killed them, and then had died with them. It was only fair that she die for such a heinous act. But, she wasn’t dead. Why wasn’t she dead? Amon had…Why!?

Amon.

Robin’s heart squeezed painfully at the thought of the brooding ex-hunter who had a week ago re-entered her life, and who had actually been hunting her until that moment a week ago when he had held a gun to her, and she had been willing to die by his hand. Could he trust her? He had made his decision only then. He did not kill her. Did he trust her? His only answer had been to lower his weapon.

The dark hunter had never left her thoughts. Her young mind and heart had obsessed over him for so long now. So long. His eyes haunted her dreams, and his shadow engulfed her soul. She had known from the moment he had saved her at the STN-J, when he had helped her escape, that she would never rid her heart of him. Even his hunt of her hadn’t curbed her longing for him. He had let her live even knowing she was considered a witch. He had believed there was good in her, that there was hope for her. Her heart had soared when he had lowered his gun, a cocky smile crossing his lips as he had asked if she was coming along to infiltrate the Factory.

A shiver ran up her spine as she remembered the trust in his eyes. Stop this nonsense! He barely trusts you! He will never see you as anything more than a friend, if even that is the right word for our relationship. No, he will never look at you as a human. As a woman. Not now that he knows you are a genetically engineered witch. An acute sense of loss swept through her at the thought and she firmly pushed the hunter from her mind.

Robin pushed the curtain open a crack to peek out at the bathroom and found two white towels sitting on the toilet. A single sink hung out of the wall, and a small mirror, fogged with steam, adorned the wall just above the chipped sink. The tiles on the floor were tinged a brownish yellow with age and there were cobwebs in the corners of the ceiling walls. The small bathroom was lit by a single light-bulb and the paint was peeling from the walls.

She glanced at the door to ensure that it was closed, before peeling off her soaked dress. She could smell an unexplained stench coming from the garments, but quickly discovered that it also covered her hair, and her skin. Slowly she let the warmth of the water seep into her sore muscles and smoothed the slick bar of soap over her pale skin. She closed her eyes and all she could see were the hundreds of chambers imprisoning all those witches, draining them of their life force. Tears burned her eyes as she remembered their tortured screams. Their bodies were unconscious, but their souls had been awake! They had been aware of what was going on! They had all been so terrified. They had all felt her presence just as she had felt them. They had been screaming for her to help them. Pleading for her to save them. But….she had killed them instead! Her heart bled for them as she stood there, alive, breathing, a craft user and free! She had deserved to die with them! Maybe then all of the treachery, the evil would stop. Maybe.

But she hadn’t died with them, and she would not take her own life. No, she would never do that. She would always remember that she had helped put many of them there and that ultimately she couldn’t save them. She would have to hear their screams for the rest of her life. She would have to live with the fact that she was…a witch.

How will Amon react to me now? The brooding hunter intruding upon her thoughts once more. What must he think of me now?

Robin stood in the shower letting the water wash away the foul stench that covered her and the pain of the memories that haunted her. It was only when the water began to finally run cold that she was forced from the quiet sanctuary of the shower. Sighing, she turned off the water and climbed out, reaching for one of the waiting towels.

At least they felt soft and clean. With one towel wrapped around her head, and the other firmly wrapped around her shivering body, Robin slowly opened the door and peaked out into the next room. It was a very small and dark room. She could barely make out the bed in the middle of the room and the door in the far wall, confirming her initial conclusion that she was in a rather small and shabby motel room.

Slowly she made her way into the room and over to the window and peeked out from behind the curtains. It was pitch black outside and she could make out no details that might tell her just where she was. She squinted trying to make out any shapes in the night, any signs, any lights, but found her concentration wandering and caught herself wondering absently where Amon was, when a sharp sound behind her made her jump. Robin whirled around clutching her towel tight against her body and found herself looking into the darkened corner of the room. And there he was.

Amon.

Her heart leapt into her throat as her gaze locked with his.

How did I not see him there?

He sat in a rather uncomfortable looking arm chair, the flame of a newly lit match glowing against his face as he lit a cigarette. The shadows of the darkened corner masked his face, but she knew his expression was just as unreadable as it always was. He was sitting there, bare-chested, hair wet, and a towel wrapped around his waist.

He must have showered first. She thought to herself, a soft heat filling her cheeks as she looked him in the eye, not knowing how to react since she, herself, was standing there in nothing more than a skimpy towel as well.

“Amon.” She spoke his name, a sort of acknowledgment, and still he merely looked at her, held her gaze. He leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees, his cigarette held loose in his fingers, a single line of smoke trailing up into the air.

“What happened?” She asked softly, turning around now. She was a little more embarrassed than she wanted to admit. She had never seen him in anything other than the dark clothing and all covering black coat. She had never even seen him without so much as his gloves off. His bare shoulders were broad and muscular, his skin pale in comparison to his dark hair and eyes. His chest was bare of hair and his abs were finely sculpted and firm. A thin trail of dark hair began at a point on his lower abdomen trailed down under the towel line. His legs were long and muscular and even his bare feet made her blush. Her heart sped up as she realized she had been staring long enough to have the image of him burned across her mind.

“The Factory collapsed. We escaped through the main sewage duct.” He stated simply, his deep voice low and quiet. They’ll be looking for you. You should lay low for a while.”

The sewage ducts. That explains the disgusting smell.

“What about Karasuma?” She asked, not sure she wanted to hear the answer.

“She escaped up the elevator shaft. The building was collapsing by the time we made it back, so we had to go down instead.” He explained in a rather annoyed voice. “You almost got us killed.” He growled in his low voice.

Memories came flooding back into her mind of the voices calling to her, screaming for her to save them, to help them, screaming for her not to leave them there. “Why…why didn’t you leave me? I…I deserved to die there.” She sobbed brokenly as she stood there with her back to him.

Silence answered her.

“Why?” She asked in barely a whisper, turning to look at him now, her heart beginning to pound in her chest. She could feel his black eyes boring through her, tearing her heart apart.

He sat in the darkness, unmoving, his cigarette glowing in the dim shades of grey.

Robin’s heart seized with Amon’s silence. Either he wasn’t going to answer, or…he regretted his decision.

He did’t answer.

Suddenly Amon was on his feet. He held her gaze for only a moment longer and then turned his back to her heading for the bathroom. When he reached the doorway he stopped and turned his head slightly to address her once more. The dim light of the bathroom brought a diamond shaped tattoo between his shoulder blades to her attention. “I am going to soak our clothes and try to get some of the stench off of them. You should get some rest. We’ll be leaving tomorrow morning.” He commanded, and was gone, the door closing behind him.

*****

What the fuck is wrong with me? Amon growled to himself for what seemed like the tenth time since he had locked himself inside the bathroom. He had washed, rinsed, wrung out, and hung all of their garments and now he sat on the toilet seat looking for an excuse, any excuse to avoid those green eyes. His heart had nearly stopped when she had emerged from the bathroom earlier. He didn’t know what he had expected. Robin bundled up in one of the cottony towels, overlarge for her dainty girlish frame was most likely, but certainly not what had really floated from the bathroom. She moved with a quiet grace as she stepped from the steaming bathroom. Golden blonde hair hung in a thick sheet down her back, pale shoulders glistened with fresh dampness. Slender ivory legs and delicate feet carried her softly across the floor to the window where she stopped. The towel molded perfectly to every sensual curve of her feminine body and he found himself more than a little disturbed by the reminder of her beauty and grace.

Get a grip. She’s a teenager. But his mind began calculating automatically, remembering that she had celebrated her sixteenth birthday nearly a year ago, only a month after arriving at the STN-J. She would be seventeen in two more months and then only a year until she was…Stop!

But he realized that despite his logical mind’s efforts to maintain a semblance of balance, control, and dignity, his body was not listening in the slightest. Almost from the moment she had stepped from the bathroom in that towel he had wanted to untangle the thing from her fingers and drink in every lushes curve, every detail. The scent of her freshly washed skin had made his mouth begin to water and he had wanted to taste that pale, creamy smooth skin. Visions of those perfectly sculpted legs wrapping around his hips as he buried himself in her assaulted his thoughts. It was then that he had become aware of the tent he was sporting with his own towel and had leaned forward in his chair, hoping she hadn’t noticed his traitorous body’s reaction to her.

Amon reached up and flipped the light off and leaned back against the toilet resting his head on the wall and letting the familiar comfort of the darkness soak into him as tried to gain control of himself. Even now he wanted her. He couldn’t deny that he had been attracted to her for quite a while, but he had thought that their two month separation had quieted that. The fact the she was a witch should have wiped away any lingering desires, but as soon as he had looked into her eyes once more, heard her voice once more, he had realized that he still harbored that attraction for her.

She’s a witch! A dangerous witch. His rational mind reminded his irrational self once again.

I’m her protector, her keeper, her watch dog. Not her suitor. Not her lover. Not her friend. I am simply a safeguard in case…in case she has to be killed.

When the clothing was dry, Amon dressed again and headed back into the room. The dim light of morning was creeping though the window and Amon could easily make out Robin’s sleeping form. She was completely submerged in the thick blankets of the bed and he found it amusing that such a small woman could take up an entire queen sized bed.

“Robin.”

*****

Fire engulfed her entire being. She was no longer a person but a single flame. She was fire. She was the flame that claimed that which could not be destroyed any other way. She was that which could take the craft into itself and use it, bend it, will it to do as she told it to. She felt it burn in her. She felt it growing in her. She felt it calling to her from deep within. But she didn’t understand it. She didn’t know how to answer it. She didn’t want it. It clawed at her, raging within her and she didn’t know how to stop it, didn’t know how to reject it. She began to scream as it ate its way through her.

“Robin.” She heard him calling her name. Calling her back from the hell she was in. Calling her back from the darkness.

Amon.