Author's Note: Here's the deal: this is what I'm writing as my novel for Nation Novel-Writing Month and I've had little to no planning before I started writing. I have some characters and a vague idea of where I'm going but that's about it. Tips and suggestions would be very appreciated. ^_^; And, as always, constructive criticism is also welcome but, since this is NaNoWriMo, unless it directly adds to the word count, criticism may not be addressed until after November. Flames will be used to start a cookout bonfire for the helpful people.
A/N 2: Also, you'll notice some not-English script. This is because I'm taking a Japanese class and I wanted a character that only spoke in Japanese so I can at least claim that it's partially studying. I'll try to include pronounciation and meaning at the end of each section.
A/N3: Last one, I swear! I'm updating this by DAY, so this means that I won't always stop at a nice, neat end of a scene or chapter. They may end in the middle of a conversation or action sequence. I apologize in advance but it's NaNoWriMo and sometimes it just works out that way. OK, I'm done! Have fun!

Day 01

* * * Fifteen years ago * * *

The man fell with a heavy, wet thud, gurgling deep in his throat. His blood seeped over the floor of the stone corridor. The tall, heavily muscled black man that was still standing tilted his head at his fallen opponent. His bald head held no gleam in the low torch light and his dark eyes held scorn. He wore baggy jeans and no shirt. A long scar ripped across his thickly muscled torso. He held no weapon and no blood stained his hands. He spoke over his shoulder. “What about him, Karyu?”

A man that was far slimmer and nearly a head shorter stepped from the shadows behind him. His face held the smooth, ageless features of Asian descent but his long hair was mostly blond, streaked with bits of dark brown and pure white. It was pulled back in a severe tail. His eyes as well didn't match his apparent ancestry. The irises were such a pale gray that they could have easily been called white. But the most disturbing thing was how empty they were, devoid of any emotion or depth. If eyes were the windows to the soul, his had long since been boarded up, the house condemned.

He wore a long black coat over simple jeans and a loose white shirt with the top few buttons undone. A wide leather belt was cinched around his hips and a traditional Japanese katana was tucked into it. In one hand, he held a cigarette to his lips and the other held the hand of a small girl, no more than five years old.

Evalina was a recent addition to their group, having only joined them in the last few months. While passing through the Italy, Dom and Karyu had stopped for a night in a small village. Shortly before leaving, Karyu happened to see the small girl healing a dog some of the local boys had been tormenting. It had been a simple matter to entice the little girl to leave with them. She'd followed the two men with wide, trusting eyes and had never asked about her parents or the life she'd had before. In the time since then, it became clear that her abilities went far beyond healing the cuts and scrapes of a mongrel. In the castle itself, she'd brought back six men who'd been on the verge of death and didn't even appear tired.

Now, clinging to Karyu's hand, Evalina looked up at him, craning her neck and clutching a lanky stuffed rabbit to her chest. She looked at the dead man then pressed herself closer to Karyu's leg, hiding her face in the folds of his coat.

Karyu flicked his cigarette into the spreading puddle of the man's blood. There was a brief hiss as it went out. “Leave him,” he said, his low voice was as flat and emotionless as his eyes, only slightly accented. “He was useless. He didn't even put up a fight against you, Dom.”

Dom grunted in agreement. “How many more do you think there'll be before we get to the bigwig?”

“None,” Karyu answered, using his now free hand to check the placement of the sword sheathed at his side. “This man is a fool and theatrical. He'll be in the throne room of this ridiculously oversized castle, likely with no preformed escape route. First thing we're doing afterward is relocating.”

“Up here, monkey,” Dom said, taking the girl and lifting her onto his wide shoulder. “It's no good getting your new shoes all bloody.”

They stepped over the dead man, walking past him without looking back. The corridor was drafty, as one would expect in a castle that hadn't been renovated in over two hundred years. The windows were only squares in the stone, no glass or even curtains. Outside, the night sky was clear and brisk, hundreds of stars visible in the country sky.

It was ignorant to be this isolated, Karyu thought. The House of Entropy was an institution that had been around as long as civilization. It deserved a Head that actually performed, not one that holed himself up in a country castle and pretended he was important while the underlings did what futile work he proposed.

It wasn't long before they reached the large double doors that created a blatant and obvious target. They were gilded and embossed with various depictions of chaos and revelry. All three intruders could have walked through them abreast and they were easily two or three feet taller than Dom.

Karyu pulled off his coat and handed it to Dom. Under the canvas, tight, hard muscle pressed against the fabric of the white shirt. It wasn't bulky, obvious strength like Dom but much more subtle, much more unexpected. It was the kind of muscle that lent itself more to speed and stamina than strength and power.

He rested his left hand on his sheath and used his thumb to clear the sword with a distinctive chink. Karyu tried to open the door but wasn't surprised to find it locked. He stepped back. “Open it,” he ordered.

Dom held out his left hand and his muscles briefly tightened. A blast of wind slammed into the heavy wooden doors and blew them open, easily breaking the flimsy lock.

Karyu kept his eyes on the double doors but spoke to Dom. “You and Evalina stay out here. I'll deal with the man myself,” Karyu ordered Dom.

Dom nodded, keeping a hand on the small girl.

Karyu went through the doors, tapping them with his heel so they swung shut behind him. The “throne room” appeared empty. The fool didn't even have any protection. He walked the length of the room with a careless, loping stride, almost as if he'd found his treasure unprotected and fully intended to take it for himself.

The throne was black marble and richly padded in overstuffed dark red velvet. Without hesitating, Karyu adjusted his sword and threw himself into the throne with a contented sigh.

Almost immediately, a long dagger flicked just into his peripheral vision and darted across his throat, opening a deep red line from ear to ear. Karyu's eyes widened and he gripped the arms of the throne. A gurgling noise came from the new opening in his throat and blood poured from his neck, drenching and staining his shirt. A few moments later, his eyes glazed over and he slumped back in the throne.

The man wielding the dagger stepped from behind the throne, wiping the blade on his pant leg. McKidd had been the head of the House of Entropy for two decades now. No damned pretty boy was going to take his position from him. “Fool,” he sneered in a thick Scots brogue. “Did ye truly believe ye had a chance? Ye're not even a member of the House and ye thought to arrive directly at the top?”

McKidd turned his back on the Asian man and headed towards the doors. He'd heard that this man had brought friends. His grip tightened on the dagger as he relished spilling their blood as well.

He was halfway down the throne room when McKidd felt a nudge at his back. He froze, his heart leaping into his throat. The only entrance to the throne room was the double doors. He knew there were only two people in the room and he'd killed one of them. Slowly, he turned.

The dagger hit the stone floor, the clatter echoing the through the otherwise silent throne room.

The Asian man stood directly behind him, his sword held out level with McKidd's throat. The white shirt was still crimson with blood and only a scar remained on his throat. To McKidd's panicking mind, it seemed the Asian man had simply appeared out of thin air, not swiftly and silently approached him from behind. “I do not back stab,” Karyu said, his voice dull and even. “Nor do I fight unarmed men. Pick up your weapon.”

McKidd's body was tightened to the point of trembling as he knelt down to pick up the dagger. He slowly stood and in the space of a few moments, had a profound epiphany. Who was this pup? Obviously, he had some kind of tricks up his sleeve but he was obviously flesh and blood human. McKidd had been the Head of the House of Entropy for longer than any other man alive and that said something. No child was going to best him. His eyes hardened and he tightened his grip on the dagger, vowing not to let it go unless it was wrested from his cold dead fingers. He held it out at the Asian man, feeling the calm, content languor of one who was about to win.

Karyu saw the man's resolve to fight and didn't hesitate. The katana darted out and knocked the dagger from McKidd's hand, sending it flying across the room. He didn't even register the shock in McKidd's eyes before he brought the sword across the bigger man's belly in the back swing.

McKidd dropped to his knees and fell forward. Unlike Karyu, he wouldn't be getting back up.

In a habit that was so deeply ingrained it was practically instinct, Karyu knelt next to McKidd and used his clothes to carefully clean the blade of his sword before returning it to the sheath.

The necessities taken care of, he turned his back on the former Head of the House of Entropy and approached the double doors. He took his time, taking the last cigarette from his pack and lighting it before reaching the doors. He held the cigarette in his lips and pulled one of the doors open.

Dom didn't even flinch when he saw his boss covered with blood, from the fresh scar on his neck down to his upper legs. Evalina, however, seemed shock. Her eyes widened and tears began pooling in them. “Ka-roo?” she asked, mispronouncing his names as small children always did.

“I'm fine,” he said emotionlessly. He turned to Dom. “Where are the others?”

“Down in the main hall, waiting for you,” he answered.

“Let's get out of here then.”

Karyu tucked his free hand in his pocket, bringing his cigarette to his lips as he walked down the stone corridor. The ember from the tip flared and lent the illusion of a glow to his dead, colorless eyes. The low torchlight in the corridor created demonic shadows within the dark curtain of blood covering his torso. Behind him, Dom carried Evalina on his shoulder, the small pale girl in the frilly pink dress contrasting sharply with the darkly scarred, heavily muscled man.

Together, the three of them returned to the hall where they were to meet the men Karyu had allowed Evalina to heal after they had encountered Dom. They were the ones with not only a smidgeon of intelligence but also some fighting ability. Karyu would use them to help return the House of Entropy to the formidable power it had once been, before that fool McKidd had arrived at the Head.

Unlike his predecessor, Karyu had patience and intelligence. He could set up plans and then wait patiently until everything was ready for them to be carried out. After all, he had nothing if not time.

* * * Present Day * * *

It was the middle of October. The leaves were just starting to change colors but not fall. The students at the New York University that were usually talking or joking around had their textbooks and notes open, fervently studying for midterm exams. He knew she wouldn't be one of them though. She only studied at home, never in public.

The man called Sacre stood next to a tree, its shadow concealing his more discernible features. He was tall and wore a long black coat that fell to his knees. Underneath it all, he also wore all black and heavy black boots. His inky black hair fell around his eyes, a little longer in front than it was in the back. It annoyed most of the people he worked with but he'd long since gotten used to it. It was easier to hide with it that way. Easier to cover the tattoos.

What looked like wicked spiky tribal tattoos encircled his eyes and seemed to drip down his cheeks. More barbed spikes jutted across his jaw bone and down his neck. Under the black clothes, they covered his entire body.

Sacre checked his watch and realized he had another few minutes before she would be making her way across the quad from her class. He pulled the pack of cigarettes from his coat pocket and scowled when he saw there was only one left. He shook it out and lit it anyway.

The cigarette wasn't even half gone when he saw her. Her long brown hair was covered with a black beanie and she wore a hooded sweat shirt and blue jeans that were baggier than what was really fashionable for girls. A bulging book bag was on her back and she clutched more books to her chest, the ones that wouldn't fit in the bag. Her glasses were low on her nose but her arms were too full to adjust them so she kept wiggling her nose in a futile attempt to push them up.

Her stride was quick so it only took her a few minutes to cross the quad. Judging from her direction and what he knew of her schedule, he knew she was going home. For her, “home” was a one-bedroom apartment near the campus. With her grades and intelligence, she'd gotten plenty of grants and scholarships that let her go to school full time, live by herself near campus and work only one day a week filing papers at a local law firm. She had a pretty sweet deal.

Too bad it was all about to end.

She made it out of sight and Sacre decided to finish his cigarette before contacting his partners. He soon found out he didn't have to. Just as he was taking the last drag on his cigarette, someone accosted him from behind, jumping on his back and wrapping their arms around his neck. Luckily his aggressor spoke before Sacre retaliated by throwing him into the tree. “Oh my god, you look so adorable smoking in your long black coat!” said the young man on his back. “If someone didn't know you at all, they might actually think you're a badass!”

A second man appeared and grabbed Sacre's arm in both of his. He was about six feet, only a hand-full of inches shorter than Sacre and his facial structure and dark eyes spoke of obvious Japanese origins. His dark hair was long but done back in cornrows along his head, the rest loosely bound at his neck. Several leather and metal chokers encircled his throat and an earring dangled from his left ear. He wore a battered black leather jacket over a dark red t-shirt and dark, well-worn blue jeans. His name was Hideki and he had a very distinctive and annoying characteristic. “かわいいですよ！” he chirped.

“Seriously, you two?” Sacre sighed.

Rolf, the one on his back, let go of him and moved to his front. He and Hideki called themselves twins but the fact was highly debated at headquarters. For instance, though Hideki was taller than the average Japanese man and his hair was lighter than was typical, Rolf looked like his genes had never set foot out of Europe. His thick blond hair was streaked through with light brown and he always had it in the intentional messy style that was popular. He wore only a hemp choker with a polished rock at his throat and a black steel ring around each middle finger. Under the fleece-lined canvas jacket, he wore a light blue button-up shirt and jeans that had been artfully stonewashed and distressed before he'd gotten them, for that cool, worn-for-years-without-actually-wearing-them look. He crossed his arms and gave Sacre a stern look. “You know, that poor girl doesn't know you. The look on your face made it seem like you were about ready to rip someone's face off and eat it.”

Sacre's shoulder's slumped and his warm brown eyes looked distressed. “I was thinking about how we were going to approach her, not eating faces.”

“Face like yours, kinda hard to tell,” Rolf grinned.

Sacre glared. Anyone else would have been at least a little intimidated but Rolf knew him too well. “Her heartgem is beginning to manifest,” Sacre said. “We have to get to her now, before she uses it by accident and hurts herself or someone else.”

“どこですか.”

Sacre gave Hideki a flat look then turned to Rolf. “I know he's trying to say something.”

Rolf rolled his eyes. “He asked where she is.”

“She lives in a one bedroom apartment on the edge of campus,” Sacre said. “I don't think we should approach her there though. She's way too skittish for a bunch of strange-looking men to come knocking on her door and invite themselves in.”

Hideki frowned and crossed his arms. “じゃあ、どこ?”

“Hey, he said that doko thing just before, right?” Sacre asked.

Rolf sighed and nodded, patiently explaining. “Yes. It means 'where'. He said 'well then, where?'”

“OK, if he understands me, why doesn't he speak English?” Sacre asked, feeling frustrated.

“He understands better than he speaks,” Rolf explained. “But he still doesn't get most of it. Just go with it.”

“She usually studies at home for a while then comes back to the lab. It's an open, public place but there's not that many people there as late as she usually stays. We'll probably end up scaring her a little but it's necessary to talk to her alone,” Sacre explained.

“I think I should make the initial approach,” Rolf said, straightening his spine and putting his hands on his hips. “You two would scare her.”

Hideki snorted. “ばかもの。”

“I think it's better if I make the initial approach and you cover the exit she's most likely to take,” Sacre suggested instead. “You're more likely to be able to calm her down and of the two of us left, I can communicate with her.”

Hideki scowled and looked mildly offended. He opened his mouth to retaliate then shrugged and nodded. “そうですね。”

“You two keep an eye on her at her apartment, I need to run a few errands,” Sacre ordered and turned to go.

Rolf jumped in front of him again and planted a hand on his chest. “What errands?” he asked suspiciously.

Sacre shifted uncomfortably and looked away. “Nothing important.”

The blond narrowed his eyes and held out his hand. “Pack.”

“Rolf, come on, it's not-”

“Pack,” he repeated.

Sacre sighed and slapped the empty cigarette pack in Rolf's open hand. “What the hell?!” Rolf demanded, brandishing the pack. “It's only three in the afternoon!”

“It's midterms, there's a lot of stress around this place!” Sacre said, trying vainly to defend himself.

Rolf popped him on the forehead with the pack. “You're not a student! Half pack a day only, you told me! This was supposed to last you until tomorrow.”

“I wasn't paying attention-”

“No excuses! And no more smokes until the day after tomorrow. I hope you had fun chain-smoking because your last buzz better hold you over for more than thirty-six hours,” Rolf said. “Now let's all go keep an eye on her at her apartment. It can be a bonding process.”

Sacre scowled and followed the brothers across the quad. “Now I'm thinking about eating faces,” he growled.

Rolf and Hideki only laughed.

* * * * *

Angelina Cartwright sat at the lab table, alternating her gaze between the microscope and her notes. She'd finished what was required for her class even though it wasn't due until the end of the semester but there were a few other tests she wanted to run. Her results so far were interesting to say the least.

Suddenly Angie sighed in frustration and slapped her pencil down on the notepad. She pushed up the sleeves of her long-sleeved black t-shirt and itched at her wrists. Both of them had a thick band of cirrhosis around the entire circumference of her wrists but no where else. She couldn't think of what was causing it since she never wore jewelry or anything she might be allergic to. She'd switched detergent five times and it had made no difference. It had gotten so bad that she was thinking about calling the campus doctor in the morning to get an appointment. It didn't seem infected but it could only be a matter of time.

Sighing, she looked back into her microscope, itching both wrists simultaneously.

A knock at the door frame pulled her from her microbes. She looked up and saw a tall man standing in the doorway. He was dressed all in black and creepy, wicked-looking tattoos were on his face. She couldn't remember ever seeing him around and she was certain he wasn't a student. Her mind ran through the list of people who were still in the lab this late but she came up with nothing. She liked being here at this hour for that exact reason. But now, it seemed, her desire for isolation had turned on her. What kind of man would get tattoos on his face? Not just on his face but tattoos like that? There seemed to be something dark and sinister about them, as though they were designed for someone cruel and insane. Angie tensed, her body tight with “flight” instinct. “C-can I help you?” she stammered.

He held up his hands and slowly stepped into the lab. “I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to talk.”

Without even realizing it, she slid off the stool and backed away as he moved closer. “Please come back during the day. There'll be someone else here who can talk to you,” she said, proud that her voice wasn't shaking.

“But I need to speak with you,” he said again, moving slowly. “I'm not going to hurt you, I swear.”

“Then please leave,” she insisted.

“The problem on your wrists isn't cirrhosis. It means something much more exotic and you need to learn about it before it gets out of hand,” he said quickly.

かわいいですよ: Kawaii des yo! = "So cute!"
どこですか: Doko des ka? = "Where? / Where is she?"
じゃあ、どこ: Jaa, doko? = "Well then, where?"
ばかもの: Bakamono = "Idiot"
そうですね: So des ne = "Yeah, OK.../That's right"