Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ It's All Relative ❯ Chapter 25 ( Chapter 25 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: LilyMoonsAlias 
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Psychological / Hentai | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 10.11.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.7K | Visits: 575 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Psychological / Hentai | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 10.11.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.7K | Visits: 575 | Status: Work In Progress
The door to Aya's concrete cell opened and Cyril Pollock paused to observe the man inside crouched on the floor. Wide purple eyes stared blankly back at him. His telepathy telling him what he wanted to know, Pollock confidently approached Aya. He signaled to two men behind him to haul the redhead to his feet and reached up a hand to hold Aya's head in place.
Although Aya's face remained perfectly smooth his mind roiled with static, anguish and emotional pain. No coherent or rational thoughts were present. Pollock grinned evilly. Aya was perfect. A Fujimiya born with whatever bizarre genes his sister possessed that kept her in perfect stasis during her coma, Aya was like a new, sleek, top of the line sports car. The motor of his mind continued to run, but no one was behind the wheel. With seemingly no reason to fear Pollock turned his back on Aya and motioned to the two men to follow him with their captive. Aya put up no resistance and walked like an automaton behind Pollock. The guards each kept tight grasp of an arm in case his pliancy was an act. Pollock knew it wasn't. Fujimiya Aya, the Abyssinian, had been reduced to this shade that barely qualified as a living being.
Pollock led the way into an ancient rocky chamber that was deep in the bowels of the man made bunker. Neither he nor anyone else knew the origin of the chamber, but for a sensitive it buzzed and bubbled with an old, dark and dangerous power. In the center of the room was a stone altar. Pollock led Aya straight to the altar and looked around the room at his gathered minions and what remained of Schwarz. Crawford returned the gaze impassively while a pale and distressed Schuldig leaned heavily against Yohji and didn't notice Pollock at all.
The telepath only had eyes for Aya. His own narrowed in concentration as he used his gift as subtlely as possible to probe at his teammate. Schuldig had nearly had a frantic meltdown during the night when he realized he could no longer hear Aya. The new day was no different. Aya's mind was nothing more than a looped litany of hatred and revenge. Schuldig couldn't recognize any pieces of Aya's original personality and he swallowed against fear induced nausea.
/Bring him out of it, Schuldig/ Crawford demanded.
Pollock had lain an unresisting Aya on the altar and was beginning to intone the esoteric phrases to begin the summoning ritual. An unsheathed dagger gleamed in his right hand and as he built up his power he seemed to grow larger in mass. Schuldig took advantage of the distraction to try and break through the rancid veil that covered Aya's thoughts. He poured on more and even more effort. Blood went from dripping to make a steady stream from his nose to his chin. Schuldig's head pounded with pain and he shook like a leaf and still couldn't break through the barriers. He subsided against Yohji, panting for air and struggling to stay on his feet.
/I can't!/ Schuldig's fear and frustration leaked into his mental voice. /Crawford, I can't reach him. It's like he's not there anymore, just a body that's breathing./
Crawford bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. His fingers ached to snatch someone's weapon and start firing at everything, but he knew he had to remain inconspicuous. Enough attention was being directed their way from the despairing state of Schuldig. More than halfway through the ritual, only Pollock remained oblivious to anything but his plan. Cold winds from nowhere whipped through the chamber and a steady murmuring of fear rose from Pollock's minions.
/Crawford! What do we do next?/
/We wait for Aya./
Come on, Aya, Crawford sent to his lover. I know you're still in there. Break free and strike back!
Pollock brought the knife down in a savagely fast motion, cutting through Aya's shirt and deeply scoring the flesh and still Aya didn't move. Pollock turned loose his gift and started leeching power from his followers to increase his own. Words from a language not known to modern man poured from his lips. His evil countenance glowed with an unholy light as he gorged himself on power. One by one, several men and women dropped dead after being sucked dry of both their gifts and their life force.
Just before Pollock could say the final phrases of the summoning, two black gloved hands disarmed him and had him by the throat. Insane violet eyes once again registered awareness and burned with hatred towards the man struggling in an iron grip.
"No!" Aya snarled. "I will not be your vessel. I will not be your toy and I damned sure will not be your God." He tightened his grip and dug his fingers into Pollock's flesh. "I will be your executioner and you will only be the first to die."
/Now!/ Crawford yelled through the link and stole the nearest weapon, mowing down any person who was not Schwarz.
Bedlam ensued. It was every man for himself. Having watched Pollock sacrifice several of their compatriots, the talents abandoned him to try and save their own skins. Bullets and blades rained deadly hail on the room. Crawford shot and ducked, trying to make his way to Aya. He couldn't get any closer. Panicked people rushed for the single exit in a doomed lemming tide.
/Balinese, cover Mastermind!/ Crawford shouted. /He needs to get close enough to touch Aya./
Schuldig found guns for himself and followed his leader's example. Yohji snapped out his wire over and over as fast as he could, his face a rictus of terror and rage. In the center of the room Aya crushed Pollock's throat. Blood pumped from the man's destroyed neck to stain Aya's glove and arm. Aya screamed his sister's name and ripped out the black haired man's trachea. He threw the dead man to the floor and wrenched the dagger from a death grip to stab and slash, nearly mindless again with his pursuit of vengeance.
Within minutes Pollock and all the talents who had followed him were dead and nothing more than cooling corpses. The chamber reeked of blood and adrenaline. Still lost in a murderous haze, Aya ran the length of the room to attack Crawford in retribution for betrayal. Schuldig and Yohji raced to stop him. Using his last reserve of strength, Schuldig tackled his teammate and set his bare hand against Aya's face. The two redheads writhed and hissed like snakes on the floor. Neither Yohji or Crawford could intervene without hurting one or the other.
Screaming in agony, Schuldig broke through the cesspool of deceit created by Pollock to touch Aya's innermost psyche. He latched onto the small suggestion of hope and truth he had left in Aya's mind and stroked it to life. Aya's struggles weakened and intelligence seeped back into his eyes. Giving a final push, Schuldig restored Aya's memory and slumped unconscious on the floor. Yohji picked up the unresponsive telepath as Aya gained his feet and faced Crawford.
Both men were gasping with exertion and eyed each other warily.
"My sister," Aya began, his face twisting with pain. He swayed unsteadily on shaky legs, pain, fear and grief radiating from him.
"We don't know," Crawford said quietly in a voice meant to calm.
"Not fucking good enough!" Aya screamed and punched Crawford in the mouth. "Are you pleased with yourself, Crawford? Have I exceeded your expectations?"
Dodging more punches, Crawford said, "We won, Aya. You won."
Aya let his fists fall to his sides and looked at his leader and his team. Yohji held an unconscious Schuldig in his arms. He looked haggard and pale himself, blood spattered over his entire body. Even with his memory restored Aya looked ready to attack Crawford again. His heart thundered with panic for his sister. His stunned gaze catalogued all the dead bodies cluttering a room that now resembled an abattoir. The physical neglect of three days caught up with him and Aya wilted into despair.
"We won," Aya mumbled and flinched away from Crawford's reaching hand. "We won nothing."
Aya pitched forward, Crawford just managing to catch him before his head hit the floor. Yohji gasped and clutched Schuldig tighter to himself as Crawford picked up his lover.
"God, Crawford! Will he ever be the same again? Will either of them ever be the same?" Yohji asked.
"We've got to get them out of here, Balinese," Crawford said and ignored the questions. "The fight here is over. For now we need to get back to the city."
"Then what?" Yohji was angry and worried. He was even more angered by Crawford's calm.
"We wait for them to wake, and while we wait I'll try to find out about Aya's sister from my contacts in Japan."
The two men searched for their confiscated weapons and, after finding them displayed like trophies in Pollock's area of the underground bunker, carried their burdens back into the desert. The Oracle's heart was heavier than the man he carried. He couldn't forget Aya's face when his lover confronted him. Despite having the knowledge of their plan revealed by Schuldig, Aya had looked at him with bitterness and utter loathing in his eyes.
Although Aya's face remained perfectly smooth his mind roiled with static, anguish and emotional pain. No coherent or rational thoughts were present. Pollock grinned evilly. Aya was perfect. A Fujimiya born with whatever bizarre genes his sister possessed that kept her in perfect stasis during her coma, Aya was like a new, sleek, top of the line sports car. The motor of his mind continued to run, but no one was behind the wheel. With seemingly no reason to fear Pollock turned his back on Aya and motioned to the two men to follow him with their captive. Aya put up no resistance and walked like an automaton behind Pollock. The guards each kept tight grasp of an arm in case his pliancy was an act. Pollock knew it wasn't. Fujimiya Aya, the Abyssinian, had been reduced to this shade that barely qualified as a living being.
Pollock led the way into an ancient rocky chamber that was deep in the bowels of the man made bunker. Neither he nor anyone else knew the origin of the chamber, but for a sensitive it buzzed and bubbled with an old, dark and dangerous power. In the center of the room was a stone altar. Pollock led Aya straight to the altar and looked around the room at his gathered minions and what remained of Schwarz. Crawford returned the gaze impassively while a pale and distressed Schuldig leaned heavily against Yohji and didn't notice Pollock at all.
The telepath only had eyes for Aya. His own narrowed in concentration as he used his gift as subtlely as possible to probe at his teammate. Schuldig had nearly had a frantic meltdown during the night when he realized he could no longer hear Aya. The new day was no different. Aya's mind was nothing more than a looped litany of hatred and revenge. Schuldig couldn't recognize any pieces of Aya's original personality and he swallowed against fear induced nausea.
/Bring him out of it, Schuldig/ Crawford demanded.
Pollock had lain an unresisting Aya on the altar and was beginning to intone the esoteric phrases to begin the summoning ritual. An unsheathed dagger gleamed in his right hand and as he built up his power he seemed to grow larger in mass. Schuldig took advantage of the distraction to try and break through the rancid veil that covered Aya's thoughts. He poured on more and even more effort. Blood went from dripping to make a steady stream from his nose to his chin. Schuldig's head pounded with pain and he shook like a leaf and still couldn't break through the barriers. He subsided against Yohji, panting for air and struggling to stay on his feet.
/I can't!/ Schuldig's fear and frustration leaked into his mental voice. /Crawford, I can't reach him. It's like he's not there anymore, just a body that's breathing./
Crawford bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. His fingers ached to snatch someone's weapon and start firing at everything, but he knew he had to remain inconspicuous. Enough attention was being directed their way from the despairing state of Schuldig. More than halfway through the ritual, only Pollock remained oblivious to anything but his plan. Cold winds from nowhere whipped through the chamber and a steady murmuring of fear rose from Pollock's minions.
/Crawford! What do we do next?/
/We wait for Aya./
Come on, Aya, Crawford sent to his lover. I know you're still in there. Break free and strike back!
Pollock brought the knife down in a savagely fast motion, cutting through Aya's shirt and deeply scoring the flesh and still Aya didn't move. Pollock turned loose his gift and started leeching power from his followers to increase his own. Words from a language not known to modern man poured from his lips. His evil countenance glowed with an unholy light as he gorged himself on power. One by one, several men and women dropped dead after being sucked dry of both their gifts and their life force.
Just before Pollock could say the final phrases of the summoning, two black gloved hands disarmed him and had him by the throat. Insane violet eyes once again registered awareness and burned with hatred towards the man struggling in an iron grip.
"No!" Aya snarled. "I will not be your vessel. I will not be your toy and I damned sure will not be your God." He tightened his grip and dug his fingers into Pollock's flesh. "I will be your executioner and you will only be the first to die."
/Now!/ Crawford yelled through the link and stole the nearest weapon, mowing down any person who was not Schwarz.
Bedlam ensued. It was every man for himself. Having watched Pollock sacrifice several of their compatriots, the talents abandoned him to try and save their own skins. Bullets and blades rained deadly hail on the room. Crawford shot and ducked, trying to make his way to Aya. He couldn't get any closer. Panicked people rushed for the single exit in a doomed lemming tide.
/Balinese, cover Mastermind!/ Crawford shouted. /He needs to get close enough to touch Aya./
Schuldig found guns for himself and followed his leader's example. Yohji snapped out his wire over and over as fast as he could, his face a rictus of terror and rage. In the center of the room Aya crushed Pollock's throat. Blood pumped from the man's destroyed neck to stain Aya's glove and arm. Aya screamed his sister's name and ripped out the black haired man's trachea. He threw the dead man to the floor and wrenched the dagger from a death grip to stab and slash, nearly mindless again with his pursuit of vengeance.
Within minutes Pollock and all the talents who had followed him were dead and nothing more than cooling corpses. The chamber reeked of blood and adrenaline. Still lost in a murderous haze, Aya ran the length of the room to attack Crawford in retribution for betrayal. Schuldig and Yohji raced to stop him. Using his last reserve of strength, Schuldig tackled his teammate and set his bare hand against Aya's face. The two redheads writhed and hissed like snakes on the floor. Neither Yohji or Crawford could intervene without hurting one or the other.
Screaming in agony, Schuldig broke through the cesspool of deceit created by Pollock to touch Aya's innermost psyche. He latched onto the small suggestion of hope and truth he had left in Aya's mind and stroked it to life. Aya's struggles weakened and intelligence seeped back into his eyes. Giving a final push, Schuldig restored Aya's memory and slumped unconscious on the floor. Yohji picked up the unresponsive telepath as Aya gained his feet and faced Crawford.
Both men were gasping with exertion and eyed each other warily.
"My sister," Aya began, his face twisting with pain. He swayed unsteadily on shaky legs, pain, fear and grief radiating from him.
"We don't know," Crawford said quietly in a voice meant to calm.
"Not fucking good enough!" Aya screamed and punched Crawford in the mouth. "Are you pleased with yourself, Crawford? Have I exceeded your expectations?"
Dodging more punches, Crawford said, "We won, Aya. You won."
Aya let his fists fall to his sides and looked at his leader and his team. Yohji held an unconscious Schuldig in his arms. He looked haggard and pale himself, blood spattered over his entire body. Even with his memory restored Aya looked ready to attack Crawford again. His heart thundered with panic for his sister. His stunned gaze catalogued all the dead bodies cluttering a room that now resembled an abattoir. The physical neglect of three days caught up with him and Aya wilted into despair.
"We won," Aya mumbled and flinched away from Crawford's reaching hand. "We won nothing."
Aya pitched forward, Crawford just managing to catch him before his head hit the floor. Yohji gasped and clutched Schuldig tighter to himself as Crawford picked up his lover.
"God, Crawford! Will he ever be the same again? Will either of them ever be the same?" Yohji asked.
"We've got to get them out of here, Balinese," Crawford said and ignored the questions. "The fight here is over. For now we need to get back to the city."
"Then what?" Yohji was angry and worried. He was even more angered by Crawford's calm.
"We wait for them to wake, and while we wait I'll try to find out about Aya's sister from my contacts in Japan."
The two men searched for their confiscated weapons and, after finding them displayed like trophies in Pollock's area of the underground bunker, carried their burdens back into the desert. The Oracle's heart was heavier than the man he carried. He couldn't forget Aya's face when his lover confronted him. Despite having the knowledge of their plan revealed by Schuldig, Aya had looked at him with bitterness and utter loathing in his eyes.