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Survivor: Schwartz	By : sefiru Category: Weiß Kreuz > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1784 -:- Recommendations : 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.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Survivor: Schwartz

By Sefiru

Warnings: NC-17, M/M, oral, anal, D/s (as usual), evil.

Pairings: C/S, N/F

Summary: four psychic assassins on a desert island. Hijinks ensue.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Weiss Kreuz
or a set of handcuffs.

Moiira: based on an anime
actually. It’s available on Youtube.

Damn you writer’s block – two days late >.<

In this chapter: catfight!

***

Chapter 6:The Magic Box

***

     Crawford tore
through the camp like a whirlwind, somehow picking up their teammates on the
way. Luckily both of them were clothed. Farf asked,
“What’s going on?” as they fell in step behind him.

      “He Saw something,” Schuldig grumbled. Crawford was so annoying
when he got like this. He got an idea in his head and charged straight into it
until he got the result he wanted; it tended to reduce Schuldig’s
chances for making mischief. In this case, he led the team deep into the
island, finally stopping at a small waterfall.

      “Somewhere
within earshot of this waterfall there are four trees planted in a perfect
square. We will spread out and search; whoever finds it, call for the others.”

      So he didn’t
know what he was doing quite yet. Schuldig shrugged and strolled off to his
left. Maybe he’d find another bottle of rum and finally figure out if the stuff
was safe to drink. He startled a cockatrice out of the bushes and amused
himself by chasing it around while it tried to stone him. Eventually he bounced
its effect back at it; the bird promptly froze in place. He grinned and turned
it upside down. He was nominally looking for the square of trees, but really he
could have more fun hunting down more cockatrices and making them freeze
themselves. He collected half a dozen of them and stacked them into a nifty
modernist sculpture.

      A rustle in the
undergrowth drew his eye; his sculpture could use a centerpiece. He stepped
towards it, then noticed that he couldn’t hear a
bird’s mind there. Maybe it was a really big bug? He stuck his head in the
thicket – and came face to face with a snarling, grey-striped mass of fur. The
cat growled. Schuldig did the sensible thing and screamed like a little girl,
hastily backing away.

     It followed him.
As it came out into the open, he saw that it was marked in black and grey,
striped in front and spotted in the back. Its paws were the size of dinner
plates, its head was eye level with his own, and its body was as long as a car.
A mean car. It was also wrapped in a mind shield
unlike anything he’d ever seen, one that made the cat utterly invisible to his
psychic senses. Unfortunately, he didn’t need to read its mind to know what it
wanted to do.

     He considered
climbing a tree, but none of the branches he could see were both strong enough
to hold him and out of the beast’s reach. He pulled
out his stone knife – much good it would do him. Crawford, Farf and Nagi came rushing into
the clearing in response to his earlier scream. Just for effect, he
bellowed, “It’s gonna eat me!”

     “Not if I have
anything to say about it,” Crawford said. Cold-blooded too-calm
precog bastard. Then he whispered, “Nobody
gets to eat you but me.”

     Okay, not so
cold-blooded. Schuldig grinned and hefted his knife. “What’s the plan?”

     “Nagi, can you hold it in place?”

     The kid frowned
for a moment. “Its mind shield is blocking me.” Could a mind shield do that?

      “In that case,
try to get sand in its eyes. Farf, take point;
Schuldig and I will back you up.”

     It was a familiar
setup. They’d done this a thousand times, though not usually against a giant
psychic cat armed only with flint knives. Dust swirled up from the ground just
as the cat sprang at Schuldig’s throat; he was
finally able to use his speed to dodge.

     The cat squalled
and pawed at its face when the dust got into its eyes. Farf
waded in from the side, an obsidian dagger in each hand, another in his teeth,
and more tucked into his belt. He leapt onto its back and grabbed one ear for
balance, slashing at the other one. The cat rolled over to dislodge him; he
calmly stepped aside and stabbed it in the paw.

     Crawford had
picked up a long stick and quickly lashed his knife to it. Using this
improvised spear, he was poking at the cat’s head to distract it. Nagi added rocks and bits of wood to his assault, enraging
and confusing the beast further. And as for Schuldig, he snuck up behind and
stomped on its tail.

     The cat roared
and stood up on its hind legs; Farf saw his chance.
He slipped under its massive paw, used its hind knee as a step, and hooked one
arm around its chin. Its claws raked his back but he ignored them; he pulled
himself up and drove his dagger straight into the cat’s eye. The beast roared,
coughed, and finally toppled over, bringing Farf down
with it.

     As if a dumb beast stood any chance against a world-class team of
assassins. Schuldig said, “Brain shot, sweet.”

     “It’s good to be
sane,” Farf answered. “I want the skull for a
trophy.”

     “Can I have the
claws?” added Nagi.

     “Hey, while we’re
at it, I want to skin it to make a love rug.” Schuldig leered at Crawford. “What
do you think?”

     “That would be
entertaining.” Which was Crawford-speak for, I want to throw you down and have
wild caveman sex. Ignoring Schuldig’s smirk, he
continued, “In the meantime, I think I’ve found the spot we were looking for.
We’ll bring the animal along.”

     Nagi lifted the cat carcass; now that it was dead, it was
no longer blocking his powers. Several minutes (and three cockatrices) later,
they were standing inside a group of trees which looked perfectly ordinary
except for growing in a perfect square. “So this is it, huh?” said Schuldig.
“What now?”

     “We dig.”
Crawford picked up his “shovel,” which he’d apparently dropped here before the
fight, and drove it into the ground. Schuldig grabbed the spear to help him.
With all four of them digging, especially Nagi, they
soon uncovered a large steel crate. Well, that sure wasn’t natural. Crawford
pushed his glasses up his nose with his finger, then stepped into the pit and
popped the top.

      “Sweet!”

      “Heheh, Santa Claus thinks we’ve been good little boys.”

      “If I have to
thank God for this I’m going to puke.”

      “Don’t worry, Farf, God is not the responsible party.” Crawford lifted an
envelope from the top of the treasure trove. “Let’s hear what our benefactor
has to say.”

       Greetings, members of Schwarz (the
message read). You will be glad to hear
that you will not be on this island much longer. We have packed a number of
items to make the rest of your stay more comfortable, as well as assist in your
escape. No kidding. I believe you
will be seeking new employment on your return; our organization is willing to
offer your team a contract, provided you are willing to change sides. Say what?
We will be waiting for you when you arrive. Also, thank you for watching over my
sister while she was –

       “Let me see
that!” Schuldig yanked the paper out of Crawford’s hands. It wasn’t possible!
This island had finally driven him insane! “Nagi, do
you see what I see?”

       “It’s signed Abyssinian,” the kid said. So he hadn’t
gone insane; it was the whole planet that had fallen off its axis, and Cthulu had damn well better
eat him quickly or there would be words. Nagi
went on, “it says, PS, enjoy your rug.”

       “Urrrg.” Schuldig slumped down on
the ground and laid his forehead on his knees. Katana Kitty, a precog? An untrained one, or he’d
have picked up on it, but still …

       Crawford said,
“I must admit I’m surprised, but it explains much about his behavior … and his
stubbornness.” There was the unmistakable sound of a magazine sliding into a
handgun. “We might as well take advantage of this recruitment bribe.”

       And what a
bribe it was. After weeks of scrounging for scraps of food and living in a pile
of logs, it was the next thing to Nirvana. At the top of the crate were
weapons: guns for Crawford and Schuldig, short swords for Farf,
and drugged darts for Nagi – the exact same ones that
Bombay used to
use. If this was some kind of mind job, it was a thorough one. Underneath those
were changes of clothing for each of them, along with – oh joy – toothpaste.
Then came what could only be called treats. Cans of pasta and
beef stew. A laptop for Nagi.
CDs. A GPS unit. A case of Guiness (Farf got teary-eyed). A
hatchet, saw and some nails. Rope. Popcorn.
Two large bottles of lube (Nagi blushed) and a set of
handcuffs (Crawford just smirked). Half fun, half useful – there was even a
bottle of “fur tanning fluid” for when they skinned their cat. And at the
bottom of the crate there was a box of balloons and a map.

        As Schuldig
tried to figure out why the Kitties would send them
balloons, Crawford unfolded the map. “Well, well, well.” He laid it out for the
others to look at; it was a complete map of the island, with three red Xs drawn
on it. One for their camp, one for this spot, and one in the
water a short way off the shore. “I think this bears examining.”

       “Whatever, we
can do it tomorrow. Tonight we have beer.”

***

I think there’s a rule about giving canon characters new
powers willy-nilly …

… screw the rules, I have lemonade.

Last Chapter: on the use of balloons in escaping.
- 5
- 6
- 7
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Survivor: Schwartz