Ohayo everyone! This is a little short my muses thought of when looking at Wonder Chef’s Cupcake picture of Krad. It’s a really good picture and you should all look at it! Her account at fanartcentral is Riku the Celtic CEO. There are underscores there where the spaces are. is apparently not allowing those. Anyway, she’s great.
It’s horrendously short… so sorry about that. Wish I could’ve made it longer, but then it would have been ruined. So you’ll have to deal with my beauteous little short story.
Anyways, onto the story.
Disclaimors: I do not own D.N.Angel. Or Krad… or Dark and Daisuke. Father Midiron is not old... but he is mine. So are the monks… but not the idea of monks. Make any sense? The monastery is mine as well. Including the land it’s on. I have the papers right here. /holds up papers of ownership/ All mine.
Warnings: mass death; defiling of a house of God
Enjoy!
Sin
On the night of the full moon, whilst wolves howled their fearful song, a man walked the streets of a peaceful village. The shadow and glimpse of sparkling white wings flashed under the light of a lamp, before vanishing. A building loomed in front of him, a large holy symbol suspended above the door. The wind stilled suddenly as the large doors opened.
The blond-haired man entered the dimly lit monastery. Monks muttered in prayer before the large stone depictions of their Gods. The white robes of this holy looking being moved of their own accord, as he seemed to float through the air. The crosses that could be seen on his robe and at the end of his hair also had a life of their own. One by one, each monk grew silent in their meditating and raised their eyes to him. A shawl covered everything from his nose down, revealing sad eyes fixed on the priest at the end of the aisle.
His gaze never wavered as he stopped in front of Father Midiron. He spoke only one phrase that was so quiet, yet seemed so loud. The monks had no trouble at all in hearing that lovely voice in the silence that threatened to swallow them all.
“Forgive me, Father. For I have sinned.”
The priest smiled lovingly and motioned behind him. “Very well. The first step of the road to recovery is admitting the problem. Please, have a seat in the confessional and tell your God all about it.”
The man bowed his head slowly and moved to walk past Father Midiron. The monks went back to their praying. He stopped next to the Priest, however,and under the shawl his pale lips curled up. Father Midiron frowned.
“Do you not want to pray, my son?”
He turned, facing the Father. “Yes, I will prey… But not in your definition of the word.” He walked slowly over behind the nearest monk and made a movement with his hand. The monk instantly stopped his words in shock and his hands flew to his throat. Silence once more fell upon the church, broken only by the horrible choking sounds. Blood spurted onto the stone resemblance as the monk fell forward. No one moved in fear of their fellow holy man.
“The actions you have taken against me will ultimately be your downfall, Father."
Father Midiron could only watch in horror as each of his monks were killed in turn. The second man died much like the first. It was then that panic finally set in. Screams filled the air and blood speckled everything. Yet the Father could only watch hopelessly as this angelic man slaughtered the holy followers of God. The man moved so swiftly as to truly be held by wings, dodging this way and that to avoid the blood that he spilt.
When his companions lay dead and this man licked the blood from his fingers with no expression in his eyes, his shawl long since fallen away, the priest finally found his voice.
“Who…. who are you?”
The man walked over to him, backing him up into the altar. Fingers clasped around his throat, barely blocking the windpipe.
The blond man smiled lightly once more for a fraction of a second. “Who am I? I am Krad. You, who have been hiding my enemy, are now my enemy. May God take your soul and throw it into the pits of despair.”
“You dare, defiler of God! Your actions today will forever conde-!” The fingers of this being called Krad tightened around his throat, making speech impossible.
“Krad, enough!” The voice of the boy Father Midiron had taken in a few weeks prior echoed in the now empty building. Both of the men looked over. Krad’s fingers loosened once more in satisfaction. The boy stood there, his wild red hair mussed with sleep. His eyes were narrow and a look wiser than the oldest man on Earth gazed out of those innocently red orbs as they almost seem to shift colors.
The Father frowned, his fingers futiley gripping the lighter man's wrists. “No, Daisuke, you must run away!” Krad realized he had nearly let his prey loose and tightened his hold again, this time more so.
The boy, Daisuke, smiled sadly. “No Father. I am not Daisuke. At least, not right now. May your soul rest in peace.”
The last thing Father Midiron saw before leaving the corporeal world forever was the sight of his charge turning into a man a little older than Daisuke. His wild purple hair and dark figure depicted him as the anti-thesis to the devil that slaughtered him and his friends. His last thought, was for the man to survive this creature called Krad.
Dark watched sadly as Krad dropped the dead Priest. “You’re foul Krad. Killing them all. NONE of them had anything to do with us.”
“You were the one who brought them into this. I will be waiting for you.”
Krad smirked as he walked past his enemy. Dark dropped to his knees, tears of sorrow for his friends dripping tothe floor to mingle with the blood, turning portions of it pink.Still smirking, the white being retrieved his shawl, wrapping it around himself and returned to the night. He looked up to the glowing moon and took a large breath of the chilly air.
“I have sinned… and it feels wonderful.”
Fin
So, I hoped you like it. I think it’s cute... which is strange, but that’s ok. Father Midiron will live on forever.
Dark: I normally wouldn’t sit there like a wuss, you know that right?
Yes you would have.
Dark: No…
Mamoru: What does it mean to be a muse?
Bakura and K: We need to talk. /they drag Mamoru to the side/
Ehehe… yeah, welcome my new muse, Mamoru. A.K.A. the archangel Michael. He’s from GravityNeko’s original fic Fallen. You can find her fictionpress account in her name on here. She made a linkie. But the story is well worth the read and the time and reviews. I gave her twelve free reviews... feel free to read them.
Anywhoo… I’ll see you guys later all right? Maybe some of you guys can give me ideas on new stories… I’m braindead at the moment.
Ja!
(Yes, it was morning when I started writing this)
Hyper C.
Bakura
Dark
K
Mamoru
P.S. If any of you want me to read your stories, give me a link (if it’s at another site) and tell me which story. I’ll be happy to. It’s the least I can do for those who take the time to read my stories.
