Author: bored2death1948 PM
What happens when Number Fourteen of the Chronos Numbers shows up, but she followed Train's example and became a Sweeper. Will they accept her and what is Rinslet planning? TrainxOC. Language alert and it may be sugestive in ways.Rated: Fiction T - English - Chapters: 3 - Words: 1,762 - Reviews: 10 - Favs: 15 - Follows: 10 - Updated: 06-04-09 - Published: 05-06-08 - id: 4241407
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: Okay, I know that there are only thirteen Chronos Numbers, but I made my OC number fourteen because it fits into the story better and I didn't want to replace another number either. Oh well, sorry, if you don't like it so far and I don't mind flames that much, so… yeah. On with the story.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
"Hey, Annete, what do you have to eat? We just earned some major money on this one guy!" Train Heartnet, the famous Black Cat, turned Sweeper, exclaimed.
"Just the usual, Train, Sven, Eve, but I do have some information that you might find peculiar, Train." She said, looking around and checking her surroundings, she leaned across the counter, head resting in her had that was propped up because her elbow was on the table. The others followed her example. "Train, there was a peculiar woman here last week. She looked around your height, your age, and was wearing a black cloak, that went down to her ankles. She was chasing after a man, that she eventually killed in my restaurant and then disappeared as quick as she appeared. The most peculiar thing about her though, was the fact that she had the roman numerals for fourteen tattooed onto her neck."
Train opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off, by her speaking again.
"When she killed the man, she didn't use a gun, although I don't think she would need too, or any other weapon. All she used was this small knife that she threw at him, hitting him in dead in the middle of his forehead. But the unusual thing about this knife is that on the handle of the knife the roman numerals for fourteen were carved onto it." She said, pulling out the knife and showing it to them.
This knife was not normal. It glistened in the dim light that glinted off of it. It was a pitch-black color, if you stared at it for too long, you felt as if it were almost pulling you into a black hole. The edges are rimmed in gold, pure gold, that looked as if it had never been touched. The blade, even covered in dried blood, still glistened and the edge was so sharp, that it looked paper-thin. There was now dried blood covering the handle and the blade almost all over it, creating a rust like color mixing in with the silver, gold, and black.
They were entranced. They couldn't move their eyes away from it. But the trace was broken, by the ringing of the bell as someone opened the door and entered the restaurant. This someone was a girl around the age of twenty-three that has mid-back length, black hair. They were wearing a white, long-sleeve shirt that hugged her body and a black mini-skirt that was loose enough to allow her to move easily. Underneath the skirt, she wore black tights that entered the black boots that started at her ankles and enclosed her feet, but were loose in a way. On her neck she's wearing a thick, black, choker band. On the side of her right-leg she has a gun holster and connected at her waist there is a pack that looks like it is used for carrying ammunition or small knives in it. To conclude the outfit she wears gloves that cover all of her hand, except for her fingertips.
In her hands there was a black iPod that looked like an iPod touch. She walked over to the board that contains all of the criminal reports. Looking at the list, she saw a price that caught her eye. It was at the very top of the board and before she entered all of the sweepers were staring at it and discussing it. They moved aside so she could see the report.
"Ah, so this one's taken out over twenty policemen and he has a partner, one that excels in weaponry. That's interesting and his price is one hundred thousand dollars with his accomplice. I think I'll take it." Her voice was surprisingly soft. All of the men around her were staring at her. She grabbed the report, but it was pulled out of her hands by a grinning Black Cat.
"Sorry, Miss. But we can't let your hands be stained with blood. You are too much of a lady to be taking a job like this. We'll handle this one and you can take this one. I'm doing this because of my code of gentlemeness, please do not take it personally." Sven said, handing her a report of a man that only cost one hundred dollars and had only stolen a car.
One thing that no one knew was that when the grinning Black Cat pulled that report out of her hands, she had seen his Number Thirteen tattoo as clear as day, although he didn't exactly hide it either, but… She had seen it, this was the man that she had been looking for the last two years and he was happy. She smiled despite herself.
"Sir, my hands have touched blood so many times, that they are stained a slight, reddish color. A little more blood will do no harm," she spoke gently, enticingly.
Sven's eyes seemed to glaze over slightly. He took the report from Train's hands and gave it back to the girl in front of him.
"Sven! Sven! What are you doing?!" Train exclaimed.
"I'm just telling this pretty girl that she shouldn't be dirtying her hands with more blood than necessary." Sven spoke, breaking from the trance, once he had given the paper to the girl.
"Why thank you, Sven. Once I catch him, I'll promise to let you know." She spoke, turning and exiting the building, the report in her hands.
"The fuck?" Was all Train could say.