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Prologue

Weiss, Arc 1 Old Habits

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Prologue : Penniless, Penis-less

The Criminal coughed with agony then looked around him, clutching his gut wincing, struggling to breath.

His blood snaked down his body, mixing the with those he gunned down. Corpses of Nazis laid around, the horrible men that ruined his life, even if their responsibility for his situation dwarfed his own stupidity. He tossed his flip-phone aside, he didn't bother to snap it in two anymore, no point hiding from the end as he headed inside the accursed complex.

He is no better than the Nazis here, hell, he even once worked with them, resulting deaths of children, women and some other innocents lives all for that profit. Even before he contacted his unsavoury former-allies, he had a death count of more than a hundred lives, probably ruined a thousand more from his product which reached outside the borders of America to Europe and his Country's Southern Neighbours.

His greed, vanity and malice has all led to this. Him not willing to let go of the business cost him his family. Which ironically one of the major reason he started this despicable life, to provide for them like how a man should. At least that was what he told himself from the start, only leading to his son cursing his father's name, wishing for his death in their very last phone call together.

"I did it for me."

That thought cause the Criminal to grip the pistol in his bloody palm tighter, the thing belonged to the leader of the dead scums that worshiped a long dead regime, and the very same thing that killed him.

Coldly, he also broke into a thin smile as he strolled through the lonely corridors of the ghetto complex, it was not of sadism for he ain't such man, not at this moment. This was of satisfaction.

The last loose end of this life have been tied, these Nazis were the last unfinished business.

He was at a end. He trailed his fingers on a polished boiler, tapping on the thermometer of fantastical equipment with bloody fingers, before trailing it over the surface, staining the stainless steel with red. The temperature was just right. This apparatus was the very same that creates the poison that bring him both cash , glory and suffering.

Bright flashes of blue and red smited his back, followed by a siren that destroyed his peace. Even the night's shroud doesn't protect him from the consequences anymore.

He will either be done in eventually by the law, loneliness or illness. However this, was something he chose even if it meant an earlier death.

The weary Criminal merely let himself fall, as he bled from the bullet he wore. Vision turning black , waiting for the devil to take him back to where he rightfully belonged.

The Criminal opened his eyes and let out a gasp.

Eyes darted left and right as he slightly adjusted his spectacles. Something felt off as he got up. He was still wearing his beige jacket and pants alongside his dulled green shirt. He reached for his breast pocket, the Browning Hi-Power pistol was still there.

This time through, he was refreshed.

His body wasn't so pathetic no more, his breathing became clear and his bones weren't on the verge of fracturing. The Criminal slowly got up with relative ease, he noticed his shirt lacked bloodstains and grit. As if it was dry cleaned by god, or the devil, he don't know. Frantically reaching inside his shirt, he pull out his necklace with his wedding ring and gingerly put it back to his finger, his once shriveled finger can now wear the precious golden thing again.

Finally, he realized he wasn't in his Concrete Mausoleum in the middle of an American Ghetto no more. He was in resting in a beautiful grass field , comforted by a graceful night sky and her millions of twinkling stars.

"W-what?" He muttered.

Instinctively , he grabbed his throat.

"Does my voice always sound this high?"

It's like the poor man swallowed two condoms full of helium.

Then his eyes slowly trailed down, and he notice that his chest was bigger than before. Reaching down to his crotch, there ain't nothing no more.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"No…no…no"

He frantically search his pocket for something reflective, eventually trailing to his Browning Hi-Power , and polished it with his both his coat and breath. And he cannot find himself, the same man that was wanted by the American Government on a international scale, with a million dollar bounty on him, wasn't there. But a pale Woman with silver white hair and brilliant sky blue eyes in her early 30s wearing his clothes.

"No…No! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

The Criminal , now a she, scream to the sky as the universe decided to take another precious thing from …. her. And she can confirm the universe is a devil.

Then, her eyes trailed to another shape lying beside her, lying in a crater more less, was what seemed to be a little girl dressed in some sort of weird frilly purple Victorian dress. Sleeping peacefully, eyes closed and undisturbed by the Criminal's breakdown.

"Hey! Hey!"

The girl didn't respond.

The older woman hunched down, and slowly crept to the girl. She was far too realistic to be a mannequin, and the texture on her pale skin doesn't look like wax. Also, who would even be bothered to put a wax figure in the middle of nowhere? Reaching for her neck , realizing she doesn't have a pulse.

"What in the name of god is that?"

She turned away from that unliving thing. Realizing she have more pressing matters, like getting out of these woods. The branches shook a little and something unearthly sprung out of the bushes, a gob of green slime, about a size of a football. The Slime stretches itself towards Weiss, studying her, then it leap away.

The Criminal blinked twice at this sight and straightened her glasses. She felt like an older, less innocent Alice in Wonderland, if this was even a Wonderland in the first place.

"Guess I am not in Kansas anymore."

Unbeknownst to the Criminal, a presence started to rise, the same one that repelled the harmless creature earlier.

The Criminal turned to another sight, but this time her blood froze, she whipped out her Browning Hi-Power and aim the sights right at that thing. It was that pale girl without a pulse but this time her eyes now opened, and right now in close range, she noticed that the girl have sharp fangs for canines. That cheesy Victorian get up, the pale skins plus the fact that she should be dead yet was alive and kicking screamed everything she needed to know. A old saying that she suddenly remembered immediately blares in her head.

"If it smells like shit, looks like shit, then it is shit."

And that girl, that thing was without a doubt one of them Vampires from the silver screens.

The two stared at each other silently, none were making a move and they studied each other intensively, well, or so the Woman thinks. As the girl just simply stared at her with a blank stare, no part of her screams hostility. This was a one sided paranoia.

The Woman, while not as pious as many others, but back when she was still in America, as an proud American who lives as a typical Suburban dweller, she belongs to the majority that have believes in Judeo-Christian Values. So she frantically searched her wallet , and flicking through her multiple business cards, receipts and found what she was looking for.

A weathered card with worn out edges that she received a long time ago from a pair of boy scouts handing out matches that read :

"Jesus Loves you."

Printed poorly in rainbow colours with the generic Comic Sans font, but still have a visible crucifix that possessed a length of a pen.

She then pointed the card at the monster before, begging her faith to banish her just like what Hollywood usually suggests.

Yet when she does that, she finally read the Biblical Quote of the day that was printed on its back, which read :

" When a crime is not punished quickly, people feel it is safe to do wrong - Ecclesiastes 8:11 "

Also printed poorly in rainbow coloured comic sans, and the Vampire just tilted her head at the Criminal who threw the card on the ground in rage. She stomp it repeatedly and screamed hysterically while stabbing the skies with her index.

"AHHHHHHH, FUCK! FUCK! AHHHHHHHHHH! THEN FUCK YOU TOO! FUCK YOU FUCK YOU…AHHHHHH!"

From the perspective of the petite Undead, she just saw an adult woman in a weird attire, pointing a metal boomerang at her while having two consecutive mental breakdowns. The Woman took half a minute to collect herself, her weird object still trained on her , and finally let out something coherent.

"Listen, I don't want any trouble. All I want is just to reach civilization and find somewhere warm to sleep."

She steps one foot back, the Vampire steps one foot forward.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!"

The Criminal thrust his weapon slightly at her.

"Don't…come a foot closer."

The Vampire isn't intimidated, but for some reason she followed her instruction, those red orbs of her only bears curiosity. No malice however, and with that the Criminal looked around, then lowered her gun with a sighed. Finally she realized the pure absurdity of her situation.

"Listen uh young lady, I am just lost and I … ok never mind, what I can I call you by?"

This is the first action that effectively result a response from the Vampire, who lowered her head in thought and frowned slightly.

"Well?" The Criminal asked with impatience.

"I…don't know, I don't think I remember. I think it starts with something like Sh…"

The Criminal looked at her counterpart defeated, before gently palming her face.

"Sh… Sh… sh"

"Sally!"

The Vampire got out of her daze at turned her attention back to the Criminal.

"If you have nothing to go by, that is a name I can give you."

"Yea, I…I think Sally works."

"Since you are an amnesiac , I assume you are as lost as me right now."

The Vampire nods.

"That means we are in the same boat. And we both have nothing."

The Criminal walks towards the shorter counterpart, and reach out a hand to the blank slate.

"You can refer me by W…Weiss."

"O…Ok Miss Weiss."

As their journey in the New World has begun.

Little do the one currently called "Sally" know, by extension the one known as "Weiss", by shaking hands, she and many others around her and those many others who were looking for her, will be sorry bastards after a while. For Weiss will and always has been a cancer to those around her despite how much she tried to redeem herself.

Breaking old habits is hard. Basically absolutely definitely impossible for some.

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Author notes : A Reboot of a old concept I want to try out of pure fun. Feel free to roast.

P.S : This is a move over of my story from Fanfiction.Net

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