Rain fell to the earth like teardrops from a thousand souls. Their cries carried on the wind and their bitterness expressed in the lightning that was cast over heard. Requiem sat on his window pane observing the scene. It was nothing short of ugly. Leaning his head against the side of the window he let a short breath of relief be released and instantly the window fogged.

Requiem raised his hand in the smallest of gestures and pressed his finger against the cold glass. Rain splattered against it, but it would not damage the creation he was soon to create. Tracing his finger in a horizontal line he stopped at about an inch and a half across. Next he made to empty holes across from one another. There he left the creation. No more than a solemn face.

"So simple, yet so meaningful," he whispered though no one was in the house with him. Requiem lived alone and thus preferred it that way. The company of people did not bother him, but he'd rather enjoy the silence of an empty, than that of one that was filled with the voices of those less desirable than himself.

Requiem soon tired of the little apparition and lazily made his way to couch. The studio apartment he stayed in was plain. He didn't want to live in luxury, even if the amount of money he brought in was far more valuable than the dumb he lived in. A roof over his head was good enough for him, he wasn't ungrateful. Never was because of the way he was raised.

It didn't last long before staring at a ceiling became unappealing to him. Rising for the second time he dressed in his full black attire. He didn't feel like being cooped up all day in the house and so he left. Grabbing his mask from the rotted wooden desk he placed it on his face as he stepped out the door.

He had no mission to attend to, nor did his associates send him any word of an assignment, he just wanted to get out and go. The storm was nothing to him. Just the souls that cried out, begging for peace, screaming their anger and sorrow, only to have their efforts wasted on deaf ears, no, not deaf. Ears that could not understand.

Requiem didn't bother with this fact. He had to pay attention to the path before him. Just as he was half way down the road a flash of lightning made him look behind him and there a figure appeared. Requiem's heart unintentionally began to race. This storm had made him paranoid and he placed his hand against his heart as if to calm it. "Is there something I can help you with," he asked. He knew his mask was still in place, and it was clear that it was no ANBU mask that he was wearing, but there was many things that would be left secret, even now.

A wolf walked into the Storm Village. His muscles rippled beneathe his golden brown fur that was sleek from the rain. A lightning flashed through the sky the scars on the wolf were very much visible. But no blood ran off the fur. The wounds were old, but altogether fresh. Only a few days had passed since Jerimiah had lost his will to the beast that forever longed to be released and rampage through the world. Tearing apart any flesh that was not strong enough to fight off it's deadly fangs.

And there in the Unknown he'd killed innocent people and hurt Kazuya who could not keep his promise because he was too young to know the promise him and Jerimiah had made when they'd first met. His tail and head both drooping Jerimiah staggered forward. The mud made his paws slid from underneath him every now and then. He felt sick to his stomach. I killed them, was all that he could hear in his head.

Another flash of lightning and Jerimiah cringed slightly. When he looked up again he saw a figure. A low growl formed in his throat and white fangs became visible in defense. Only did he became less threatened when the guy asked him if there was something he needed. Jerimiah paused and let the lightning's light fade before he shifted into his human form. The effort of change was undeniably tiresome. He had barely enough energy to stand.

"I need nothing," Jerimiah said as kindly as he could. "I'm just passing through. My home is on the opposite side of the village." Jerimiah looked closely at the guy. He couldn't see his face, there was a mask covering it. It made him uneasy, but there was not much he could do about it. But he would make sure to stay on his guard, if this man was a threat, Jerimiah could equally pose as one.

Requiem looked at the figure. Lightning flashed through the sky and he would have bet upon his life that the creature he saw was not at all human, but beast. A wolf. From his current position he was unable to tell whether the creature meant harm upon his life or not, but then another flash sliced through air and there stood a human being, a man. Requiem narrowed his eyes behind the mask. Was the night playing tricks on him?

Requiem took a step forward too get a closer look. It was not a man he was looking upon it was a boy. A teenager with red hair and eyes. He looked like he'd pose little threat but Requiem was sure that this boy was not human. Unless his eyes had been playing tricks on him. The day had been long anyways, so to try and determine reality and imagination was too much trouble to be going through for just some boy that claimed to be 'passing through.'

"Passing through," he asked. Requiem repeated the words slowly to let them seep in. "At this time of night when the wind howls and shakes the shutters of every house in the Storm Valley?" Requiem cocked his head to the side. A smile creeping across his face, though the boy before him could not see it. "Why not pass around this Storm of Souls," he asked. "What buisness do you have here?"

Requiem was not taunting Jerimiah. He had no reason to. It wasn't his style to tempt others into guilt or cause them to go on the defensive. He was not a people person, but he would not play such a cruel game. He would surely not play such a cruel game with someone who probably had a slim to none chance of winning. A gust of wind picked up and Requiem longed for his jacket which he'd left in the house. It would have protected him from the rain that pelted against his clothes, making them cling to his body like a second skin. And the peircing wind would have been nothing more than a breeze. Without it, he was in the heart of the Storm.

Requiem reached up to his chest and placed his hand over his heart as another flash of lightning flashed through the sky. This time it was followed up by the booming of thunder. The ground shook beneath them. Requiem let it pass before speaking. "I failed to ask before, but did you see a wolf pass you by?" Requiem could not get the picture out of his mind. The image of a large creature with powerful muscles and fangs had edged itself into his mind. He'd never seen a wolf in the village before.

But that wasn't why he was asking, it was because he had an eerie feeling that the boy that stood before him was not human. Inhuman. Do I fear that which I can not comprehend? Will man bask in the glory of my fear? He frowned and balled up his fist until his knuckles turned white. I. Fear. Nothing. Truth or not he would not be swayed from his thoughts.

Jerimiah was uneasy at this mans suspicion of him. he didn't want to fight, he just wanted to get home and rest. His entire body was aching. His muscles were burning from the fight. It'd been so long since he'd fought that he'd become less accustomed to his wolf side, that and he had only allowed his wolf side out when the moon was full. But that was a lie, he didn't allow the wolf side out, it forced itself out.

Only when Requiem started to question him did his uneasiness show. Why was this man beliveing that he was up to something? He had no business in the Storm. He wasn't a spy. "I'm just passing through as I said before. I'm tired and I'd rather deal with the wind and the rain then rogues who want to kill me." Mistake. Saying that last line would only make him seem like he'd been causing trouble if rougues were after him. Jerimiah didn't want conflict, he'd come through the village to avoid it. Maybe it would have been best if he would have taken a different route.

When Requiem asked him about a wolf Jerimiah was instantly alert. If he was to tell this man that he was in fact a wolf would he be rejected. Would this masked man retaliate and strick out. Jerimiah was too worn to fight back against anyone. "I saw no wolf," he said. "It would be strange for one to be in the Storm, and would the guards let a wolf enter the gates to this village and cause havoc." Jerimiah was pushing it, but Requiem was being intimidating.

Jerimiah didn't fight people, he didn't harm people, he stuck to himself. All he wanted was to have a small chance at peace, but where ever he went, there was always a trail of blood that followed. Would he forever be condemned to a trail of blood, to a land that was bathe in blood. Jerimiah felt the world slow around him at the though. Paradise, will I ever reach it? Will I ever find my peace?


Man, I couldn't remember where I got the name for my picture from!! I'm sorry, I didn't realize I'd taken it from a thread! My apologies Sasuke. ~Kinaga Unabara

Requiem looked at Jerimiah with an intense glare that could not be seen. "Rogues?" He asked. He'd noticed the boys words. He wasn't being very careful of what he said. "Does that mean you are a wanted man?" He asked. "Is there a price on your head?" That last question was more for Requiem. He had no remorse for those who were targets. He only did what the job asked for. Nothing more, nothing less.

Requiem sighed. He was wondering if he should just let the child go about on his business. He probably had family at home waiting for him. Home, where it was nice and warm. Requiem unconcisiously shook his head. There was no home except for the one he lived in now. His mother was said to missing, but he knew she was dead, and his father had disowned him. Requiem didn't care for family, but this boy was just a child.

As he went to tell the boy he could leave, Jerimiah said something very unwise. "Is that a threat?" Asked Requiem. "Do you plan on causing havoc within this village?" Requiem was sure now that this boy was a wolf. Some kind of creature that was part man part beast. Requiem took a steady breath. Presperation was slowly forming on his face a matting his shirt despite the cold rain. Requiem would not put up with threats, especially ones against his village. He'd made this place his home, no one would change that for him, no one.

That was why he felt cold towards the Akatsuki. They were out to do nothing but cause havoc within the villages. Requiem would fight until his last breath and more against them if they tried anything. Or any enemy for that matter. But he knew all to well there would be no peace now, or later. Peace didn't exist. There was always an enemy somewhere out there. Someone who wanted more power. Someone with ambition. Requiem gave a low short laugh. If anyone believed peace was possible then they were out of their minds.

Paying more attention to Jerimiah he wished the boy would have stayed quiet. That way he could have gotten out of the rain. "I don't know your true intentions, but if they are what you say, then tell me the truth now about who and what you are and I'll let you go without trouble. This storm will bring both us down if we don't remove ourselves from it, but I will willing let you go if you speak now in truth."

Jerimiah felt endangered the moment Requiem asked if he had a price on his head. The memory of fighting against Kitsra with Kazuya came into mind. Was this masked man a hunter as well. Jerimiah could feel the beast withing arousing. An unsurpresable growl escaped him and he went on guard from both his wolf side and this man. "I'm not wanted," Jerimiah said trying to explain himself. "But rogues attack those who are at a disadvantage." Jerimiah didn't want to kill, not even a rogue, though some deserved death.

It seemed like Jerimiah would never get his peace. Requiem thought he was trying to threaten the village now. Instinct was telling him to run. Jerimiah backed up. "I never wanted trouble," he said. "I just want to go home." Jerimiah didn't know what to say, or how to get this man to leave him alone. That's when Requiem gave him a choice. Jerimiah weighted his options. The truth would be better than lying. If he had to, he would fight.

"My name is Jerimiah Cross," he said. "I'm 17 years old and belong to no ones village. My home is on the other side of this village." Jerimiah blinked the rain from his eyes. "I'm a loner, and I'm not threat to you." Jerimiah wondered if he should tell that he really was the wolf from before. He sighed. "I lied before, the wolf from before was me," Jerimiah said. "I'm a hybrid. A mixed blood between wolf and vampire. But I swear to you I mean no harm to anyone, I just want to get home."

Jerimiah was getting cold. He'd be sick for the next two weeks for staying out in this rain. He looked at Requiem wondering if he'd given the guy enough information. Jerimiah shook lightly. Next time he'd be careful of entering a village in his wolf form. He rarely used his wolf form anyway, but the beast had been begging and he was too tired to fight back.

Requiem was not bothered by the rain, but he could see, even form his distance that the younger boy was shivering. Requiem smirked behind the mask as lightning split through the sky and the wind began to pick up. He had to strain to hear over all this madness. As Jerimiah gave his explaination of who he was Requiem was without a doubt intrigued by this boys story. A hybrid. It was the first he'd heard of one. The things that walked among them as if they were the same. He held no prejudice against those who weren't human, but it was the thought of knowing they walked amongst them instead of in their own forms. Did they fear the world they lived in that much?

On the other hand, he wore a mask. He didn't want anyone to know his idenity. What would his village think of him if they knew what he did. Killed those he was ordered to. Yes, he understood what the others felt like. But the fear, no. He feared nothing. He looked at Jerimiah. "I'll believe your story, for now. But you dare cross me and I will kill you on the spot. I do not hesitate those who pose a threat to me." He walked towards Jerimiah and stopped infront of him. "You won't make it through this storm, not tonight atleast. It's still new."

Requiem pointed in the direction of his apartment. "You can stay at my place. Follow me." He did not wait for Jerimiah to follow him. He took off towards his home. Jerimiah may have been a possible enemy, but Requiem would trust him for the time being. "I would give you my name, but I'm not oblidged to." He glanced back at the hybrid. "Do you have parents?" He asked. Requiem liked to learn of those he met. He'd remember every detail, ever ounce of knowledge. He was a natural at information gathering.

If he was told to kill someone within a month he'd watch them for the first three weeks and then kill them two days before his time was up, report to his superiors the next day, and then go home and rest. Requiem would call himself a professional if anyone asked him. He was natural born hitman and he loved it, almost as much as being a ninja. To kill was fun in a sick kind of way.

The masked man was right. He was without a doubt an expert when it came to storms. This was his domain, his territory. He knew it like the back of his hand. Jerimiah was reluctant to follow though. This man was ready to kill him only seconds ago. Jerimiah was on full alert. He could already feel the wolf in him arousing. Too tired and far to weak to go against it, the beat could come out at any moment and fill its craving for blood.

Jerimiah stayed put for a moment weighing his options. Going would be the best option. He was already sick as it was. And shivering like a dog. He dropped his gaze and followed. Cold and wet. Not a goo combination. "Is there anything I can address you by then?" He asked when Requiem refused to give him his name. That was another red flag going up. This guy could attempt to kill him and there would be no way to describe him. He was masked and nameless.

Jerimiah walked in silence until question. Parents. Everyone had them, but it didn't mean that they were around. "My parents are dead. My mother's name was Julie Cross and my father's name is Kuran Cross. Both were murdered." A growl escaped him and he had not meant it. He hated to think of what happened all those years ago and by the hands of ninja. That was why he hated shinobi. And now he was following one. He hated contridicting himself.

Requiem walked. His apartment wasn't too far away. He heard Jerimiah following behind him. "A name you can address me by?" He said thinking it over. "Good question, I don't often do this, but you do need something to call me." After several minutes of thinking he finally decided on a name. His mother used to call him this before she disappeared. "You can call me Rim." Requiem came upon an apartment complex. "After today you are forbidden to pursue me at home." He told Jerimiah. "If you come looking for me, I will kill you."

He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. Entering he let the boy in and closed the door after taking a quick look around for any unwanted guest. Requiem walked to the bathroom and got a towel. "Here, dry yourself off with this. I'll try and see if I can find you something to wear." Normally he wasn't this nice, but he wasn't a cold hearted snake either. He preferred to be alone, that way he could live in peace. Company seemed to become a burden after a while, or they became nosy and started to dig for answers.

Starting towards his closet he stopped and looked at the hybrid boy. "You can sit anywhere you want, just stay off my bed." There was a couch across the side wall and a small table with one seat. Proved he didn't have company over, at all. He turned back to the closet. Five or so minutes passed before he found a pair of black sweats and a white t-shirt. "Here." He tossed the clothes to Jerimiah. "They look about your size. Change in the bathroom and leave the towel on the sink."

He turned back to the closet and picked out his own clothing. Walking to the bed he sat down. He was worn out. "You said your parents were murdered, by who?" He asked. More information collection. He wanted Jerimiah to hurry and change, he was getting a bit cold. Heat. He stood up, leaving the clothes on the bed and turned on the heater. Why stay in the cold house when the heat was there for the taking.