Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Schwarz Moments ❯ Advent of Darkness ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Nariel
Crawford's first meeting with Nagi and the beginning of his vendetta against SZ, set about 5-6 years before the events in the Anime.

Anime/Manga: Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Romance / Mystery / Drama / Thriller | Type: Shounen-ai | Uploaded On: 05.22.2006 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 412 | Status: Work In Progress

Schwarz Moments, the English version
Title: Advent of the darkness
Rating: T
Author: Nariel
Disclaimer: They're mine, all mine! My preciousssss... /coughs embarassedly/ eh-he... of course not.
Summary: Crawford's first meeting with Nagi and the beginning of his vendetta against SZ, set about 5-6 years before the events in the Anime.
Warning: un-beta-ed, yet.
A/N: Translation of my latest German fic. `Tis but a brief glimpse into the beginnings of the team Schwarz... translated on demand of... okay, under the threat of Alexstarr's whip /whimpers/. ;-P Just kidding, lol. Second part might be added, but since it isn't written yet even in German... We'll see, we'll see.

---Kyushu, Japan----
It was raining cats and dogs as the black Mercedes raced along a highway, its driver seemingly unaware of speed limits. Brad Crawford really had other things in mind than paying attention to road signs. It might have deemed insignificant to an outsider that Brad's eyes were narrowed with pure hatred and blinked more often than usual; or the fact that his hands clasped the steering wheel so tightly the skin around his knuckles has turned white.
For Brad Crawford's standards this state represented a hysterical nervous breakdown.
Everything had begun with a vision - he had seen his death. Now, this happened often enough. And this time the solution to the avoidance of this event was crystal clear. All he had to do was NOT to storm heedlessly into the office of his superiors, with a drawn gun and screaming for revenge. Oh please, he had thought, as if I'd ever do shit like that. I'm not stupid, after all. He did not want to be shot down by bodyguards either, the way his vision had shown him with complete certainty.
It was curiosity which made him hesitate behind the closed door, after the meeting was over. What could drive him, Brad Crawford, to such an action as the one he'd seen?
So he had listened to the voices of the three Elders of SZ ...
"Does young Crawford have suspicions? "
"No. But it's better this way. Lest he might react ... emotionally ."
"He wouldn't be the first. Also other pupils had tragic accidents which cost, regrettably, all their relatives their lives... " The sarcasm was flooding the room, seeping through the gap between door and ground.
"It never had to be like that. We had promised their son a bright future in which he would be able to use his abilities the best way ... for us ... They declined."
"Thus, they signed their death sentence. Astonishing, isn't it, what a small splash of oil on a highway may cause... "
Accident. Accident my ass...
Cold laughter rang from the room.
Brad had used up the biggest part of his willpower to break loose from the door and to walk to his car in calm, measured steps.
Now, as already told, his car raced along the highway and Brad suppressed constantly the urge to drive into a wall with 120 mph and to put it all to an end.
Did it have a sense to try to go against SZ? Alone, he would be helpless. Okay, maybe not helpless, but too ineffective to cause any real damage.
He took a deep breath, and decreased the speed. He left the highway and drove aimlessly through the streets. Plans whirled inside his head, a mess of jumbled ideas, however, one thing was clear to him: the way.
One step after the other, Brad.
During that meeting he had been given permission to choose an elite team for an outside operation. Which meant an absolution, a proof of the trust the leaders put into him. A team of killers under his leadership, to ensure that chaos and fear would reign, for SZ's good alone. The most important part was that such teams sometimes worked for years without any instructions or controls on the part of SZ.
Slowly, Bradley, he admonished himself. First: Slow down. Then: your team put together. And someday, SZ's doom. One step after the other.
It was good that he had throttled the speed. Thus, he saw a man sent flying out of a side street, like a petulant child's rag doll. Yep, flying.
Telekinesis, Brad knew immediately. One of his teachers in Rosenkreuz was one, who found great pleasure in demonstrating his ability to students. He remembered too clearly how the unlucky were thrown against walls, until they were reduced to a bloody pulp...
Crawford's car screeched to a halt. He took a moment relishing the sense of security from the revolver under his jacket, before stepping out in the humid night air. Just how did I end up here, he wondered. It was a slum, nothing more than desolate and rotten, run-down appartment blocks. He peeked around the corner, only to find that the “street” was, in fact, a mere niche between two houses, a tiny dead end. A whimpering small heap of misery lay at the back wall.
A child, Crawford saw, probably hardly ten years old, wrapped in some dirty rag leftovers. Surely it could never be claimed they were clothes.
And no one else far and wide, which led Crawford to an almost unbelievable conclusion.
Might it be... the little one...!
Now, there was a way to check this. Telekinetics possessed a reflex which would repel sudden projectiles. He threw a tiny pebble in the direction of the child -
The pebble got stuck in the air as if it had stuck to an invisible wall. It just kept hovering there, with no intention of falling down anytime soon.
It was insignificant, how it was possible that a child could have such powers. It was important that this child existed, and that it was not a brain-washed puppet of Rosenkreuz.
" Hey, kiddo ". A frightened look from dark eyes, mostly concealed beneath the shock of unkempt black hair, was the only answer. Crawford exceeded on convincing manipulation, yet he gravely lacked experience concerning friendly interaction with children.
No, his rhetorical skills would be of no use here, he decided.
Brad cautiously stepped closer, near enough to see that the child shook with cold as much as with fear. Then he stretched his hand out...

A/N: Death threats, praise or even Spam: I cherish every review I get. So: pretty please! /tilts head and tries to look adorable/