Lost Library Email Form Lost Library Mailing List
Lost Library Home Page
 
A mystery crossover story
by Brian Randall

Foreword: This isn't a typical MC. It's more of an experiment. Don't expect humor.


Eyes of Truth


Clear skies revealed the city below, its own noisy light drowning out the starry heavens and the full moon above. Towards the outskirts of the city, on the upper hillsides where civilization had just begun encroaching on the wilderness, a wind stirred. It wound its way cautiously through the branches of old trees, through the skeletal frames of buildings that were still under construction.

The wind bore the faintest scent of blood. Of hatred. Of… wrongness.

Thickening like a tangible thing, the breeze slowed, swirling, and darkening until it formed a slowly rotating mass dark enough to hide whatever lay within from both the light of the moon and the light of the city that sprawled below.

It contracted briefly, from the span of an entire rooftop, to merely twice the size of a man. It began to whirl more violently, then suddenly drew back, revealing a form in the center of the wind. It drew back cautiously, slowing its movement.

Unclad, he slumped to his knees, eyes closed, and put his hands before him, kneeling, to steady himself.

A single line of dark wind brushed his cheek, ruffled his hair, and then drew back. He would have been taller than most men his apparent age. Young, but in his twenties. His hair was short, but longer than most businessmen would wear theirs. His build was more muscular than an average man, but less developed than an athlete.

His eyes opened, crimson pupils shaped like a cat's, and he raised his head. "He was here," the man breathed.

The wind intensified, and the man stood, closing his eyes again, and throwing his head back, his face to the moon. The darkness enveloped him, covering everything but his fingertips for a long minute, and when it drew back, he was dressed in a clean suit, gray as his hair. His eyes opened, again, still shining the color of blood.

He nodded, staring out across the bright city. He glanced behind him at the dark swirling force, and frowned. "There's—" He cut off abruptly as a single tendril of darkness separated from the rest of the mass, and settled into one hand, forming a pair of spectacles. He nodded his appreciation, and donned them. His eyes were a dull gray behind the lenses, save for a hint of blue. "Then … I may be a while," he said. "If you need me … send Yuta."

The whirling force rose above the rooftop, as though to vanish back into the forest that had birthed it, then paused, and swirled around the man one last time, leaving a large duffel bag behind as it vanished. "Thank you, Mother," the man whispered as the wind faded.

He turned back to the city, adjusting his glasses, then looked up at the moon again. "I will find you, Uesugi Shuichi. And I will destroy you," he vowed to the night.


The late afternoon sun seemed dim, before it even began to set. Thin light filtering in through the windows of the room, seeming only barely to illuminate it. There were two figures within.

One, slumbering in a bed within the shadows of the room, a blonde woman, the blanket drawn up and concealing all but her face and hair.

The other, a nondescript young man with glasses and brown hair, sat on the other bed, watching her warily. He was dressed in a dark high-school uniform, and held a knife in one hand, the blade folded away neatly into the handle.

"Why is this happening to me?" he asked quietly. "What's going on here?"

 


Dividead is created by C's Wares, property of Himeya Soft in the US. Shingetsutan Tsukihime is created by Ozawa Kaoru, property of J.C. Staff.

 
Layout, design, & site revisions 2005

Webmaster: Larry F
Last revision: May 21, 2007

Old Gray Wolf