Witch Hunter Robin Fan Fiction ❯ Unbroken Chains ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

Chapter One

*Monday, midnight*

Rain pelted against the window, preventing Amon from getting any sleep. It wasn't the only thing keeping him awake. Michael had found out some information on the names of the people the witch a week ago had listed. Nothing too seriously special about them, besides the fact that they were witches. His dark eyes turned fully to the rain. He just couldn't figure this out. Even Robin was having trouble.

Robin.

An image of the girl flashed across his mind the same instant lightning erupted in the sky. He had been steadily growing closer to her, though he never showed it on the outside. He could never show that kind of emotion on the outside.

She was just too much younger than he was.

He found his body relaxing as he watched the rain, the noise finally deciding to let him sleep. Within in moments, his eyes drooped and sleep claimed him.

<<<<<>>>>>

Blood.

It was everywhere. Coating the walls, the floor, his coat, his partner, the blade that had done the cutting. Calm, collected eyes stared at him. The witch hunter hadn't moved from his perch, the sword clutched loosely in his hand.

Laughter.

It was surrounding him, choking him. He couldn't make it stop. He sank to his knees and gathered the girl in his arms. He glared darkly at the other hunter. The man cocked his head and smirked.

"What's the matter, Amon? Did you fall for the little bird? Or are you pissed that you were deceived?"

Crimson clashed with the darkness of Amon's eyes. Fire coursed through his veins. Pain. He could feel it rapidly flowing through him. HE had never felt this kind of pain before.

Words.

He could hear them coming from his mouth. He didn't understand them. A ringing filled his ears.

<<<<<>>>>>

Amon jerked awake. The telephone was ringing. He fumbled blindly for a moment before his hand found the receiver. He picked it up, his eyes glancing around the room.

"What is it, Michael?" He sat up and looked over at the clock. It was three-thirty.

"Two more bodies have been found. Both were decapitated and bearing a strange symbol." Amon turned to the window. It was still raining. Vaguely, he heard Michael calling his name. "Can you make it to the crime scene? Karasuma's already there."

"I'll be there in twenty minutes." He hung up. His laptop beeped, announcing a new message.

He dressed quickly and memorized the address before heading out. Slipping on his Orbo filled cross and retrieving his gun, he climbed into his car and drove off.

<<<<<>>>>>

Mist forming in shadowed lairs
Killing off in sinful pairs
A vengeful spirit not put to rest
Not yet being blessed
More to go
Knowing them all
Peccavi
For they should know

<<<<<>>>>>

Karasuma looked up from the corpse when Amon's car came to a halt a few feet away. He walked over to her, taking in every detail with his grey eyes. She picked up the piece of paper she had found earlier and gave it to him.

"Did Michael call you first?" Karasuma shook her head.

"No. I stayed late."

Amon didn't say anything. He looked at the piece of paper. A short, eight-line message was written on antiqued parchment paper in fine quill lettering. He read through the poem, slightly confused by its meaning. He slipped it into the pocket of his trench coat before a police officer walked over to him.

"Excuse me. There seems to be a problem. We have the identities of the two bodies but they are wanted back home, in the United States. They were on a school trip here." Amon looked at the bodies. The police weren't supposed to be involved but it seems now there was no choice. He nodded and dismissed the officer. The other man left quickly, most likely going to tell the teacher involved what was transpiring.

"What's going on, Amon?"

"We have to work fast. These bodies are wanted back home." Amon didn't as the Factory set to work cleaning up the mess, receiving the same response from the police officer as Amon. Tarps were thrown up to prevent any on lookers from peeking inside.

<<<<<>>>>>

Michael stuffed another doughnut into his mouth and continued typing away on the computer. His music was blaring in his ears, preventing him from hearing anyone around him. A gentle hand on his shoulder caused him to jump and spin around, eyes widening slightly. Robin was standing behind, her black dress ruffling as she came to a stop behind him. He turned the volume down.

"Morning, Robin." She smiled a little and took a seat at another computer.

"Good morning, Michael. Where's Amon?" Michael typed in a few commands and faced her again.

"He had to take care of something this morning." Footsteps sounded on the stone floor. "There he is now." Amon entered the computer room and presented a piece of paper.

"Michael, I want you to see if you can find out who writes poetry like this." Michael opened the piece of paper and skimmed through the words before going back to typing on the keyboard, already getting to work. Amon left the room and went to his desk, searching for something. Robin picked the piece of paper up off of the desk and read it.

"Peccavi. Michael, someone gave a confession in the poem." The chestnut blond turned to her. She pointed to the Latin word. "Peccavi. It means 'I have sinned'. Maybe the person didn't want to kill anyone." Michael shrugged his shoulders and went back to looking information on the poetry.

"It's probably from some ordinary person. That poem isn't in any poetry files as far as I can see." Robin reread the poem.

'I have sinned
For they should know'

She placed the parchment back down next to Michael and pulled out her small bible. She flipped to Exodus 20:13. Thou shalt not kill.

Amon stepped into the room again and looked at Robin, then Michael. Michael glanced up at him and shook his head.

"There's nothing. This poem's anonymous for now." He turned to Robin. "Robin's found something." The blonde looked up.

"Robin?" The girl stood up and grabbed the poem. She pointed to one word.

"Someone made a confession, Amon. Peccavi means 'I have sinned'. Killing anyone goes against the Ten Commandments." She showed him the bible. Amon read through it silently. Michael snapped his fingers.

"Amon, I think the National Museum of Western Art is hosting a very exclusive British collection of paintings about the witch trials during the early fourteenth century. If this person is hunting witches, what better place to start." Michael pulled up a map of the museum and pointed to where the exhibit was being held.

Robin watched as Amon gathered his coat and left. She stayed put, knowing that he was slightly angry with for the other day. Michael continued looking up suspects, hoping to find one of them in town but was having no such luck. Robin went back to reading her bible. Perhaps there was something that would point to the inner thoughts of the person.

<<<<<>>>>>

*Tuesday, noon*

Amon walked the steps of the museum and entered after paying the fee to look inside. A group of touring American students was gathered in a small circle, talking and laughing about some stupid joke the leader had made. A few others were scattered, looking at the paintings and statues. Bits and pieces of conversations came to him in English.

"Where's everyone at?"

"Okay, gentlemen, that's enough. Find your partners."

"Where is she?"

"I thought she was looking at one of Rodin's statues."

He felt someone bump into him. He turned around. The boy apologized and hurried away. He headed toward the stairs to see what was on the second floor. A few more students rushed passed him, anxious to get lunch before everyone ate theirs.

Crimson.

He stopped and blinked. He sighed inwardly after seeing that it was just the color of the banner. He continued walking, ignoring the confused and curious looks following him. In his mind, he went over what Robin had told him.

'Peccavi. I have sinned.'

_______________________________________________________________ _________________

Okay, the first chapter is officially done. Thank you very much for the reviews. I'm sorry for any confusion the last chapter presented. I appreciate the support and the reassurance that I should continue on.

A few more things. I don't own Witch Hunter Robin. I do, however, own rights to the poem, having written myself. Please, do not use this poem without my permission. I greatly appreciate it. If you do wish to use it in a story, please, ask me first. I usually don't have any objections as long as I am the one stated for writing. Thanks in advance.

I haven't read much of the bible but I'm familiar with the story of Moses. I hope no one is offended. If you are, I apologize.

peccavi: Latin for 'I have sinned'. It also means the acknowledgement of sin. Have patience. The reasons for the poem are coming shortly.