• I'm Kristoff Marie Klaus, but I'm called just Klaus. A week ago, I was brought to the
    Bergfrid Mansion to witness a cleric perform a seance. I have been chosen by 'him' to
    perform his work and I bare the symbol of the throne on my heart. I have been touched by
    the Lord himself and survived. This is the story of 'his' death.

    ---

    [Ch1<<-]Chapter 2:
    The Boy Who Cried Death

    A breeze filled the train as they travelled cross-country. The engine roared as the
    behemoth wheels repeatedly rolled in a monotonous motion. Smoke billowed from the smoke
    stack, dissipating into the voracious air which filled the desolate plains. The plains only
    wore the faces of torn down buildings and what used to be civilizations. Now they're
    primary use has gone to the overrun of wildlife. Klaus lazily looked past the scenery,
    through the dingy window that let ounces of natural light into the train cabin. Ever since
    a week ago, his life has turned upside down and he's seen a world he has never seen before.

    He had been travelling for the last two days with Frances and Varse, to find the
    registry,as they missed it the first time. He vividly recalls Varse swearing and cursing,
    as they watched what looked to be a Coffin encased in metal bolts with a cross on it, jet
    away in a translucent white spherical bubble. Frances said that only people who bear the
    thrown can enter the "Lords Messenger" as it was called.
    "It was made from the ashes of 7 fallen angels' wings, and shines through the day and
    night. It is impenetrable and can even float on water" She spoke, with a marvelled look on
    her face of interest.

    Still swearing, Varse paced the cabin, which seemed to be in mint condition. The walls had
    a lavish black wall paper with white fleur de Lis patterns across it. A redwood paneling
    bordered it midway, to the ground. The rest of the train was unfurnished, except for 8
    redwood benches which were rowed like pews and a make shift alter, out of a coffin, bearing
    the cross.
    "I hate, HATE missing that thing! And- and it moves so quick and... and its stupid!" Varse
    threw his hands up in anger.
    "I hate missing it too, but at least this teaches the newbie a lesson- NEVER miss the Lords
    Messenger." Frances retorted, sitting sleakly on a pew, looking out the same window as
    Klaus, on the right side of the train.
    "Thats true. And since we have all this quality time- we get to teach what WE exactly DO,
    around here." Varse chuckled slightly, changing his mood.
    "Well... so far, all I know is that you can get a concussion... and talk to ghosts?" klaus
    spoke in an questioning tone, rubbing his head where the book hit him.
    "Its MUCH more than talking to ghosts, Klaus. We are chosen by the hands of God to fulfill
    his work on earth. We save souls." Frances' tone became serious, rather than bored. "The
    tattoo on your chest. It shows that you were chosen by God. Its only given to you by 'His
    Royal Legion'. Everyone in that room has one." She continued. She lifted her long red hair
    and revealed a tattoo that matched Klaus', except on the back of her neck. It was a celtic
    cross turned clockwise to the side, with the crown on each arm.
    Varse showed his tattoo in the same spot as well.
    "Notice how ours are on our neck? Its because we were raised, from birth, by His Royal
    legion. But yours is in the middle of your chest." Frances became quizzical and looked
    firm.
    "Wait... you saw my tattoo? When was my shirt off?" Klaus blushed.
    "When you were clonked on the noggin. Remember? We had to resuscitate you some how." Varse
    laughed as he walked over to klaus and knocked him slightly on the head. "Anyway, we also
    found out that behind your raven tresses... you have the same one on your neck." he
    finished.
    "That doesn't make sense. I don't ever remember getting a tattoo on the back of my neck!"
    Klaus began to panic. He tried to see it with the mirror, but his body would not permit it.
    Sweat began to fall from his forehead. It didn't take much to get him to panic, but this
    seemed like a genuine moment he should, so he took full advantage.
    "Calm down. Neither do we. Its how you're chosen by the Legion. 30 years ago, people began giving birth to Children who possess this mark. They were all ceased by 'His Royal Legion'
    to become Clerics... like us..." Frances' eyes became solemn and seemed to fill with
    regret. "It was rare that a child bared the mark, but it was enough for people to fear
    having children. It doesn't come off either. Its a permanent scar placed on you... it
    causes you to see things..." The words became harder to come out the more she spoke.
    "Like... Like that ghost?" Klaus asked contemplative
    "More than that. Look out to the plains and what do you see?" Frances turned her attention
    to the only window again and pointed. Nothing but skies, grass and post destruction of
    buildings were left.
    "I see... nothing out of the ordinary." He spoke with disappointment.
    "To you, its nothing. But me and Varse? We see demons feasting on lost souls. Its no
    different from animals feeding on flesh. The same blood. The same screams. But you.. you
    don't see anything. Only 'Pure souls' like the one at the mansion-"
    "As if the second mark on your body veils your vision from all evil- Protects you." Varse
    finished Frances' sentence. "The consequence of seeing Demons, is being able to be fed on by demons. But they don't even notice you, personally, Klaus. And you're not the only one. That little girl? Santana? She has the second mark as well. And they don't see her, just like she doesn't see them. But we'll talk more when we get inside." The tension in the room filled up as the train came to a halt. They had arrived at the furthest destination they could.

    The sun had peaked and was slowly lowering, as the sky became a cool magenta. Dust and debris filled the air as they got off the train and the tracks looked as thought it had been torn off the ground barbarically and began to rust at the jagged edges. The flat plains surrounded the trio and the only thing that stood was a small barn in perfect condition.

    "Where is this?" Klaus stretched from sitting so much. His legs cramped up and began to
    lock, so he walked around until they started to feel better.
    "Its a cleric outpost. Protected from Big-Guns upstairs" Varse jumped off the train,
    pointing to the skies.
    "Is there supposed to be another person here?" Klaus covered his eyes from the sun with his hand, looking towards the outpost. He noticed a figure standing perfectly still looking towards them. It looked almost as though the person was smiling.
    "No... just us three. Why?" Frances was the last to jump out of the train.
    As she closed the door, the pitch black, one car steam train departed with a slow start. It seemed to be completely automatic, without a driver.
    "I see someone I think... are they naked?!" He turned away blushing.
    "I'll go check it out. You two stay here!" Frances put on a pair of leather gloves, with a
    fur trim, that matched her clothes. She walked up the white fenced gate that surrounded the
    barn and opened it cautiously. The person didn't seem to notice. It was a boy around the
    same age as Klaus, with dirty blonde hair and a lifeless face, standing naked at the door
    of the barn. His eyes were a gradient blue and stared towards the sun.
    "Who are you? Are you with the Legion?" Frances yelled across, still at the gatefront. The boy
    slowly turned his head towards her and stared for what seemed like an eternity. Frances'
    face turned white.
    Klaus and Varse couldn't tell what was happening, but Frances' face started to twist in agony. Her eyes teared up and she began to shake as the boy continually stared.
    "Frances?" Varse called out.
    "GET AWAY!" She screamed and covered her face with her arms crossed as the boy's head exploded like a grenade, sending shrapnel of bone from his skull, all around. Varse covered Klaus, but the bones didn't reach.
    "FRANCES!" Varse screamed, as he looked up. She was on the ground, with pieces of bone in her arms. Varse ran towards her quickly, lifting her head.
    "He... he warned me. He looked me in the eye and said it! I heard him!" She quickly sat up
    and put her hands on her head, covering her ears. Tears streamed down her face quicker than the blood on her arms, where the shrapnel was embedded. "It was in my head. HE WAS IN MY HEAD! He said... he said that we did this! We created the monsters! What does that mean?" She rocked back and forth, stuttering her words. "It was like... a million voices... at once in my head..." Her cries were silent as she sobbed until she let out an ear piercing scream.
    "L-l-look at his chest..." Frances pointed with a shakey bleeding hand. The corpse was
    still there, headless. The mark of the Throne was on his chest, in the exact same place as
    Klaus'. Frances looked over to Klaus with an amount of fear Klaus couldn't comprehend.

    ...What was he?