Warning: this fan-fic contains Creed related material. Side effects of reading may cause: Homophobia, Agatephobia, Astraphobia, Maniaphobia, or Dementphobia


            It started with the sound of gunfire and screaming. He knew he had gotten over his head with his business. Somehow he had become an enemy of Chronos. He was an old man but he wasn't ready to die yet. He spent thousands in the best security systems and guards money could buy. But deep into the late hours of the night it started. The screams of his men and gunfire rang through out his manner. He knew they were here,      Eraser, Chronos' attack dogs. Ravaging through his home like a war zone.
           He had locked himself in his backroom. The screaming and gunshots dimmed until it was silent. He was sure he was alone. Then he heard it: the clink of a piece of falling metal. He couldn't tell where it was coming from. He looked around the room. He couldn't see anyone else in the dim light. Then he saw something lying on the ground. It was a shell of a bullet. He was frightened, he hadn't heard a gunshot. He picked it up. than he heard the sound again, another shell was at the other end of the room. It had to have fallen from somewhere, he thought. He scanned the decorative arches near the ceiling. He couldn't see anything at first.
          But then he noticed it: a pair of yellow eyes, glaring at him from the darkness. Eyes blazing with dangerous and murderous intent, they belonged to a shadowy figure crouching perched on one of the arches. The figure released a handful of shells. They clang as they fell to the ground. In a flash of black the figure landed. One glance at the mysterious figure sent chilling fear raging throughout his body, he couldn't move.
          The eraser looked young; he couldn't be older than 20. The young man's spiky dark hair fell over his cold yellow eyes. He was wearing a long black coat dripping with splashes of blood. The young man pointed his gun at his target. He glared at the old man intensely. The old man was frozen in fear.
          The eraser moved his gaze from the old man for a moment to steal a glance at the clock. He's waiting for something  thought the old man. Then he noticed something: the sounds of gunshots had stopped but the screaming hadn't. There was more than one eraser!   Thought the old man, that makes sense there is no way one man could've taken out 40 security guards.   The sound of screaming was getting closer.
          Then suddenly the door was ripped open by a large thin blade. Another eraser walked in, holding a bloody katana. He looked about the same age as the eraser in black. His silver hair was slicked back and his clothes were covered in blood. His dark eyes were as cold, cruel, and frightening as his partner. The two young men looked almost like complete opposites.
           It was completely silent. All the noise from the fighting stopped. That's impossible! Thought the old man, two people couldn't have taken out all those security guards! Erasers usually work in groups with 6 to 10 people, why are there only two?! They weren't Numbers, they had no rank or uniforms, so why are they so powerful? How can Chronos have this kind of power with just ordinary erasers!?!
          "You're late Creed" stated the eraser in black. The eraser with silver hair just smiled. The eraser in black glared at him but said nothing. His gun remained directly pointed at his target. He hadn't moved an inch, he hadn't even changed expressions. Although he had no expressions begin with.
          He was frightened of these two monstrous erasers. But he was not going down without a fight. He pulled the gun he had hid in his shirt. Both erasers turned to stare at him. His hand shook as he held the gun. "D-do-don't m-move or I'll sh-shoot" he stuttered. Before he had a chance to fire, the eraser in black fired directly into the barrel of the gun, causing the gun to backfire and the barrel to explode! The old man clutched his burned hand.
          "You should just shoot no need to tell us." the eraser in black snarled coldly. The old man was too scared to speak.
          The eraser with silver hair laughed as if his partner had made a joke. "I can handle it from here Train," He smirked raising his blood covered sword.
          "No," snapped the eraser in black. The old man was confused. They weren't arguing were they!?
          "…? Um, Train what do you -" started the one with silver hair.
          "You take forever and you make a mess. I'm finishing up. Last time you did you made the target scream so loud that my ears were ringing for hours," complained the one in black.
          "You know, you're wasting time here by arguing with me," replied his partner.
          "…Shut up."
         The eraser in black remains calm despite the argument. He pointed his gun at the old man. "Please, please don't, I beg of you please don't kill me," he stammered, "please, please don't, I want to live." The eraser with silver hair chuckled. The one in black said nothing and advanced closer. He was scared, so scared. He closed his eyes and heard two things: A gunshot.
          "Pathetic" said the eraser in black.