Hello. I'm Manga and welcome to the prologue of Sangreal of Souls.

First off, let's get some things straight: Crona is a MALE! This story follows the manga and the main pairing is Crona x Maka. This will be my first Soul Eater fafic. This story is rated M for a reason, but mainly for violence and a lemon somewhere in the near future.

Disclaimer: All respective characters belong to the mangaka, but the plot of this story is mine.

"Talking"

Thoughts

XxxxX time/location skip

Enjoy the prologue:

Plans of Deviation

-Somewhere beneath Venice, Italy-

It was cold. Water dripped from cracks in the stone ceiling, the soft sound echoing down the stone corridors. The grey stones in the walls and floor were unevenly cut and placed in no regular pattern. Small torches lined the walls that looked like spikes gutting out of the rock. A small orange flame flickered to life at the end of the corridor, by the now waning wooden door. The flame then spread to the next torch, all of them lighting up, the oranges flames dancing with new soft glows of light onto the lifeless infrastructure.

Long shadows cast over the stone as a dark-haired girl opened the door, walking cautiously, as to not lose her balance and drop the tray of food in her hands. Tammy tried to pull her dog-faced hat over her eyes but just swallowed in moist air as she neared another door after rounding one of the many corners, hoping she would remember the way back.

"Woof ruff woof," Tammy chanted, tilting her head to the side. The door creaked open, sending chills down her spine. She hated her job. Did she even look like a domestic slave? Even with magic, it was still work and work for Medusa no less.

"Here's today's food, Crona." she said looking inside the dimly lit room.

A solitary candle stood melting away on the floor next to a dun, flax woven bedroll. A dark bundle huddled against the corner, rocking back and forth.

"I'll taint it black! All of it!" Crona shouted, letting his knees slack down from his chest, revealing his face twisting grin. "Girl! Who was the girl? She kept on bugging me! I don't know how to deal with annoying girls!"

Tammy gasped. The demon swordsman's mental state was growing ever more fragile. He chattered to himself, rocking back and forth in that corner, refusing to eat. The witch sighed to herself. She walked over to the bedroll and laid the tray of fresh food down. Tammy looked sombrely at the untouched food shoved away from the bedroll.

"You have to eat you know." Tammy said. "Medusa will be mad if she finds out you're not eating again," she threatened.

"The girl… smiling… bright… innocent." Crona muttered on inaudibly for the most of it. "Her skin looked soft, so soft that I might've been able to tear it off with my bear hands… I should have played with her hair a bit. Oh well… I'll do it next time"

"Hey, dumbass! Get the food!" Ragnarok shouted.

"N-no I don't wanna eat." Crona replied, burying his face back into his lap.

"Hmn, well it is just rice and her rice was better," the demon commented, looking over Crona's shoulder to look at the food.

The demon swordsman lifted his head up. "What do you mean, Ragnarok? Is it her?"

"How should I know?" the demon shouted. "If you're not gonna eat, just let me have some grub!"

Tammy frowned at the two. At least Crona had his Weapon to care about him. Well, in some sort of twisted, self-centred way. "Oh, Medusa wants to see you later. You better be there."

Crona tilted his head up to look at her, stunned, "What? Another m-mission? I just got back from a mission. Was I not good enough?"

The witch sighed, shrugging her shoulders, "How should I know? I bet it's just some little riffraff. All in all, it's just some dirty work for Medusa."

Ragnarok shot up from behind Crona. "Goopi! Souls! The only descent fucking food in this joint." The demon licked his face, saliva spraying over Tammy.

The witch backed away, leaving the room.

A lone sigh sounded in the room. "She left. Everyone leaves, one time or another."

"Who would stay with your sorry ass?" Ragnarok chided. "Get going you scrawny shit! My food awaits!"

The pink-haired Meister gave in, reaching for the rationed bowl of rice. "Here," Crona said, holding the bowl up, "eat this. I wanna think for a while."

"FOOD!" Ragnarok greedily grabbed the bowl with his tongue, pulling the entire thing into his mouth. "Oh for the love of god! This stuff is not even cooked at all!" the demon spat the bowl out, along with the remaining grains of uncooked rice.

Crona remained oblivious to his Weapon's rants and raves about poor room service and the quality of the dining experience.

"Maka…"

Pain rippled from his temples, blossoming to his forehead. Crona gripped the pale locks of his pink hair. His vision blurred, everything was fading into white.

It was dark. Water. It was black water. A grey sky stretched over the pink-haired male as he lay floating in the black mass of the ocean. Even the water had been tainted. Crona tried to lift his arms but they seemed to be stuck under the thick liquid. He turned his head to the side, black residue sticking to his face. The moon looked down at him, a malicious grin on his lips, his usual yellow surface gone and replaced with a sickly looking black. Red rivers of blood oozed from the gaps of his teeth, slithering down the side of its face.

The demon swordsman looked at the moon for long periods of time before he moved again. He knew there had to be something else here. Waves swayed his limp body around but he could just look at what was happening about him and even that was depressing. Everything was tainted, there was nothing different. Turning his head to the right, he saw what looked like a beach. The grains of sand were a washed out white. That was at least different.

"Oh… It's white. It should be tainted soon." Crona said to himself, now having something to do, he tried to free himself from the thick tendrils of the water. The demon swordsman freed his arms. "Hey, Ragnarok, help me out here. I don't know how to deal with all this water."

The said demon sprouted his wings from his Meister's back. "You need some swimming lessons! This is the last time I'm hauling your fat ass over anything, you got that!" Ragnarok mocked, lifting his master from the water. "Now what? I got your ass out, so where to? Or can I just drop you?"

"Just take me to that beach, Ragnarok," the pink-haired male said, mentally sighing.

The demon took his Meister there and dropped Crona a few feet from above the sand, the Meister landing face first in the pale dune, Crona letting out an indignant cry of shock. Ragnarok laughed to himself, grinning wickedly, "Hey, Crona, your fat ass is all high and mighty-looking from sticking out of the sand!"

"That's not nice," the demon swordsman complained. "I don't know how to deal with all this sand – it's everywhere! It's in my hair, my clothes, everywhere!"

"Crona…"

He stood up, forgetting about his complaint, turning around vigorously, his arm swinging about in a wide arc, as if the source were right beside him. Crona did not like his situation, an achingly familiar voice calling out to him; he just wanted it to end.

"CRONA!" the voice hallowed out, the vibration of the scream rippling about the demon swordsman.

"What is this? Who are you?" Crona asked, sinking down to the sand. His long fingers slithering into his hair and grasping the strands at the roots making pain shoot across his scalp, "I d-don't want this!"

"Then what do you want?"

Crona went rigid, sweat beading on his forehead. Letting out a pathetic whimper, Crona turned slowly to stare behind him with wide eyes, pupils tiny with fear.

"Do you want power? Freedom? Acknowledgement? Knowledge? Pleasure?"

The demon swordsman gave an in voluntary shiver at that last part, a low gasp clawing at his throat. But the voice continued on regardless.

"… Or do you want love?" the voice breathed in his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

Crona turned around sharply, coming in contact with a green-eyed face, framed with sandy coloured hair. He crawled backwards, away from the girl. His voice was trembling as he spoke, "W-why should you care? What are you to me? N-nothing! You should mean nothing to me! A pitch black demon like me…but that's not true… is it, Maka?"

Silence greeted his answer, and Crona let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He prepared to curl himself down into the sand, but he was stopped, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end.

"Do you really need me to answer that one for you?"

Turning slowly, Crona raised his head, slate grey eyes wide with astonishment. A single gasp escaped his lips, and he felt a sudden breeze ruffle his hair, messy pink strands breezing across his cheeks.

A young woman stood behind him, blond pig tails swaying in the wind that surged around her. Blue light radiated off her naked skin, and her green eyes glowed in the half light, a stunning shade of apple green that made his heart ache and tears burn at his eyes. Her face was beautiful and hauntingly familiar, that face having been in his every dream and waking thought for as long as he could remember. Seeing her now, standing there in all her glory like the untainted angel he knew she was, it was enough to send him to tears right there and then, the swordsman reaching out unconsciously in a desperate attempt to touch her, his shoulders shaking with unbearable sadness.

He'd fought her earlier and had only felt confusion and malice, but looking at her now, he felt his heart burn in his chest, adoration and longing tearing him to pieces from the inside out.

It was just too much to take in all at once. How was he supposed to deal with it all?

"M-Maka…why…?"

Maka simply stared at him, eyes filled with their own longing. But they were different now, filled with a fiery determination that he knew all too well. Or at least…it seemed that way now. Did he know them? Yes, yes, he could feel it now. Those eyes, he definitely knew them. He knew everything they held, everything they promised, everything they'd ever given him. It burnt at him from the inside, and he wanted to scream and run for his life, horrified as boundless recognition hit him like a tidal wave.

But there was something else, something so huge and hateful that it threatened to send him further into insanity. It was right there, he could feel it. But why couldn't he remember? Why?

Watching as Maka moved towards him, her bare feet seeming to breeze across the sand, Crona let out a gasp as she sank to her knees before him, her naked body falling against his, every curve of her moulding against him. He gasped and shivered against her heated skin, warmth washing over him as her blue light swallowed him up, every ounce of his skin tingling wherever the angelic light graced his skin. He stammered and spluttered, unable to believe this girl was touching him in such a way, but his noises of incoherent astonishment died on his lips as he felt her arms wrap around him, the young woman breathing in his ear.

"Don't be afraid of me…I'm here now…you don't have to fight any more."

Tears welled up in his eyes. Crona's breath hitched as he reached out to take hold of her hand. He wanted to know everything, all the memories this girl possessed. He just knew that he had some part to play in her life and he wanted – no needed to know that it was a good one, not a simple memory filled with malice.

"Maka..."

He could clearly feel the warmth radiating from her now. She stood there like a sun, in all its blazing glory. Now only a touch away from grazing his fingers across that golden skin, Maka started to pull away, smiling brightly at him.

"Remember, I'll be waiting for you."

Crona gasped as she faded away, reaching out to grasp her hand before it completely vanished, but it was all for nought.

Remember…

A city and various people flooded his mind's eye. The people seemed blurred, save one. Maka was crouching in front of him, holding a photo in front of his face. She was smiling and the demon swordsman felt happy, he felt warm, as if she had never felt him.

Crona opened his eyes to stare blankly at the damp, cobble stone floor that he sat on. He dully wondered how long he had wondered inside his sub-consciousness this time. He unwrapped his right arm from around his bent legs to look impassively at his hand. It was cold as ice. The demon swordsman heard heavy foot falls pass his door and an unintelligible grumble. It was undoubtedly, Free sulking along the corridors again, complaining about having nothing better to do than filing his nails.

Crona tilted his head back, resting it against the wall. He needed to get out of there. He felt different than a moment previous, almost lighter in some aspect, as if that warm light had melted some heavy burden inside of him.

The demon swordsman closed his eyes, thinking back to the glowing goddess that had asked him a question. What do you want?

"Hey, Crona, shouldn't you be getting your ass over to Medusa?" Ragnarok asked, plonking himself on his Meister's cotton-soft pink head.

"Yeah," the swordsman agreed. "Hey, Ragnarok, do you think there is anything out there, besides this? I mean besides this constant stride for power? What is the purpose of me becoming a Kishin anyway?"

"Yeah, I know what's out there."

Crona titled his head back. "You do?"

Ragnarok sighed. "Food dumbass! That's what's out there!"

The demon swordsman sighed. It seemed that was the only thing on his Weapon's mind: food. Crona did come to a conclusion after thinking about his purpose with Medusa, and he wanted to get out of her claws as soon as possible. Crona pushed himself off of the floor, straightening the creases on his black robe. He wasn't a neat freak, but he needed to look presentable if he was going to see Medusa.

Crona opened the door, looking solemnly down the corridor and started his way to Medusa's room. He reached the room well before he was ready. The swordsman took a deep breath, trying to relax himself, but he could not help it. That witch just had an aura to make people shiver in their shoes. Crona lifted his hand to knock on the aged door, but it sung open before he could lay a single finger on it.

"Come in, Crona." Medusa called from the dark room.

The demon swordsman obeyed, taking small, timid steps inside the room. His grey eyes shifted about the room nervously. The room was significantly colder than the entire underground hideout. Medusa sat in the centre of the room, on an orange and blue embroidered mat of snakes swallowing humans. Books lay scattered, open, with a total disregard around, Medusa. The black-haired witch sat Indian-style, staring intently at her purple tinted glass globe in front of her.

"Y-yes, Lady Medusa?" Crona asked, grasping his left deltoid with his right hand nervously.

"Come closer child," she motioned for him to some closer. "I have a very important mission for you to complete."

The swordsman obeyed, moving closer to the witch, his nervous building up with every step he took. He just got back from Ukraine, and now she wanted to send him on another mission that most likely involved the Shibusen. Crona made his way over to the left of Medusa, looking anxiously over her shoulder and at the globe cupped in her lithe hands.

"I want you to take care of a certain someone," she said, smiling to herself. "It is a Death Scythe that came from the African unit. It would be most troublesome if another Death Scythe were to join Lord Death in the fight against us, so I want you to kill them before they get to Death City. Come and take a good look at your target, Crona."

The pink-haired male obeyed, leaning in to look at the globe. After a moment, an image of a person walking through the Nevadan desert dressed in a heavy beige trench coat and wearing a strange, almost cowboy-like hat on their head. Crona looked carefully at his new target; this was the opportunity he was thinking of earlier, the perfect opportunity to escape, Medusa.

"Of course, I'll need you to take someone with you, in case Shibusen made a rendezvous point outside of the city for the Death Scythe, but who you take is up to you." Medusa said, looking carefully at the swordsman.

Crona stood up, his mind reeling. This was going to be his only opportunity to get away, but then there was another preparation needed to ensure he said out of her clutches, and the only place he would be free of her would be in Death City itself. Crona knew however, that no one in Death City would allow him anywhere near them, so he had to come up with some sort of peace offering. Yes, he needed to get a hold of something that Lord Death would find valuable in exchange for him to be able to enter the Shibusen again.

"I want to take, Free with on this mission," the swordsman said. "If there are other agents around, he'd be able to deal with them, while I kill the Death Scythe and then consume their soul."

Medusa smiled. This is what she wanted; a soul-hungry Kishin. Well, Crona would be one soon if she had her way. "Good, I want you ready to leave in an hour, oh, and tell, Free for me," she said, turning to look at her son. "He's been mopping about the place."

Crona made a small bow at his waist before leaving. The demon swordsman wandered about the corridors in a near comatose state, too caught up in his thought to care where he was going. The pink-haired male sighed when he finally decided to know his own whereabouts and he was surprised to find himself near the exit of the underground compound.

"Hey, are you gonna run away with your tail in between your legs now?" Ragnarok asked teasingly. "Because, if we are gonna make a break for it, can we please stop for a snack first or fight to get out?"

Crona curled his hand around the metal handle of the door, pulling it down and swinging the door open slowly, looking softly at the ladder in front of him. He wasn't running away, he just wanted some fresh air and time to himself before he had to go on his new mission in the Nevadan desert. Crona stared climbing up the ladder, but did so slowly because of the confines of his black robe. He unlatched the lock of the trapdoor above his head, pushing the heavy stone plate open.

The demon swordsman poked his cotton-pink head out to look if anyone was occupied the old alleyway before slipping out, the salty smell of the sea drafting about him in an instant. Crona slid the stone back into place before walking through the practically deserted walkways. He walked with left arm closely pressed to his chest, holding onto his right bicep, his pink tresses swaying in sync with the gentle, cool breeze. The demon swordsman found himself lost in a sea of faded memories. They were happy memories, were he had people to call his friends.

He let his feet guide him to whatever destination they had set themselves on until Crona heard a seagull mewled and he snapped his attention to his current location, a pier. The swordsman decided this was a good a place as any to spend what little spare time he had. A few gondolas bobbed up and down in the dark water, tied securely to the jetty. Crona walked along the wooden jetty, deciding to stop at the one that was most out to sea and sat down at the edge, dangling his feet over the cool seawater.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Ragnarok asked his Meister, deciding to keep him company in the chilly night. "Star gazing?"

"No, just thinking," Crona replied softly, drawing his knees to his chest and hugging them closer to guard him from the cold.

"You seem more depressed than usual, Crona," the demon remarked. He had noticed how his Meister's whole aura had changed since he had come back from his sub-conscious. "What, cat got your tongue?"

"Why are you asking so many questions, Ragnarok?"

"Well, excuse me Mr Prima Donna! I didn't mean anything by it," Ragnarok retorted. "It's just that your soul wavelength is all dull and somewhat disorientated."

"Oh," Crona whispered. In all honesty, he hadn't noticed anything different about his soul wavelength until his Weapon had pointed it out. Could it be because I'm finally free from Medusa's chains?

"…na."

Whatever it was, the swordsman felt like he had broken free of something that had held him back and now he had nothing left to keep him from doing what he wanted.

"…Crona…"

The pink-haired Meister sighed, burying his face in his lap. What did he want? It was the same question Maka had asked him in side of his sub-conscious. What did he want? He knew it wasn't an Earthly object, but something that was invisible, yet strong.

"EARTH TO CRONA!"

The scream had startled the Meister so much that he nearly fell forward into the cold water below him. Crona swung his legs over the side of the jetty again and clutched his hands to his chest and tried to calm his rapid heart rate.

"R-ragna-arok, why did you s-scare me like that?" he asked his maniacally laughing Weapon.

"I… didn't try to scare you dumbass, I was calling your for about five minutes here!" he said, ruffling Crona's soft hair with some brute force. "But, you were staring into space."

"What was it you wanted Ragnarok?"

"I still want my question answered ya know!" the demon pulled Crona into a rough strangle about his thin neck.

"I just f-feel different…" he began, surprised that his Weapon had stopped strangling him and actually listening. "Like something snapped and now I'm free." Crona brought his hands up to his head, threading his fingers through his hair, pulling lightly at them. "These memories, Ragnarok… why did I ever forget them?"

"Who knows, maybe you were dropped on that tiny head of yours as a baby and that would compensate for what little brains you have."

"Ragnarok…"

The demon mentally sighed. "I'm not gonna make this so easy for you punk!" he yelled. "You never 'forgot' them – they were sealed away."

Crona lifted his head a bit at hearing the last part. "S-sealed… away?"

"Yes moron, don't make me repeated myself."

The pink-haired Meister frowned, folding his arms over his chest. "You're not making any sense, Ragnarok," he whined, looking up to see the demon acting uncharacteristically quiet.

"You have such a fucking pea-sized brain," the demon snarled. "Look, the girl you saw in your sub-consciousness was the embodiment of all your memories so to say. When you embraced who you were, the seal broke."

"But who would do that?" Crona asked, not really wanting to believe what his Weapon was telling him. "It was, Medusa, wasn't it?"

"Well done!"

Crona sighed to himself, but the fact didn't really surprise him. She was his mother but what mother would ever make their own child kill their beloved pet bunny? He was just an experiment to her, a means to an end. The demon swordsman was tired of being used; he was tired of not being able to act for himself.

"I'm tired of this." Crona said, not talking to anyone in particular, he just needed to say it out loud for himself. "Ragnarok, what would you do if I wanted to leave, Medusa?"

The Weapon was taken back by the question. "Well, I would say 'fuck yeah'!"

"Huh?"

"Don't huh me, stupid!" Ragnarok shouted, pulling at Crona's hair while gripping the Meister's nose in-between his index and forefinger, squeezing it harshly. "It took you long enough to break the seal and finally be able to think for yourself again! But, where would be go? Where would we find food?"

Crona looked down at his reflection in the dark water below him. Where would he go? He never thought of that one, and it wasn't like he could just waltz back into Death City, not what he had done. The swordsman sat there on the jetty for some time, mulling over what he could do in order to get back to Death City.

"OH, but you know that as soon as you get near Death City, Lord Death would personally fry you, right?" Ragnarok asked. He had to make sure his Meister knew what kind of shit he would walk into if he indeed did think of going there.

"Well, what if I give them something that they could use against Medusa?" Crona asked hopefully.

"Hmn… That's a good idea, but the question is, what do you give them, it's not like the witch has any secret documents lying around for you to pinch."

The two sat in silence for a while, both contemplating over an object of value that would be useful to Shibusen and prove Crona's alliance with them from then on.

"Hey," Ragnarok called his Meister, "you asked Free to be your partner, right?" the demon asked curiously. The pink-haired male nodded at his question, wondering what he was getting at. "So, there's the answer to you question!"

Crona sat there, staring at the inky black waters beneath his feet. "So, our answer is a werewolf witch that lacks any sort of intelligence?" he frowned. "Ragnarok, how will that help us? He's loyal to, Lady Medusa and he's powerful!"

"That's the whole point, you dumbass!"

The pink-haired Meister paled. "Do you want us t-to get k-killed?"

The demon sighed, seriously, he thought he had a side job as his Meister's personal physiatrist at times with all his 'though love' therapy. "No, you dumbass. We are much stronger than him, because we - I mean me – have more brains than he could ever dream of having. The mutt impales himself with his own ice cones for crying out loud!"

"O-oh okay," Crona replied quietly. "S-so all we need to so is get his magic eye?"

"You're catching on! Yip, all we need to do is to rip the sucker right out of its socket."

Crona sighed. He was not looking forward to his up-coming fieldtrip with Free or having to fight the werewolf. He stood up, hugging his one arm tightly to his chest. It was more of a natural defence mechanism when he got nervous than guarding himself against the cold. The Meister started making his way back to the hide-out.

XxxxX

Free sank back against the wall, slouching his posture comfortably against the hard stone wall. The werewolf dug around in his pockets, searching for something that he could not seem to find.

"Damn where did I leave it this time?" he cursed, scolding himself for forgetting his nail file in some remote place again.

"Try looking behind your ear, mutt," a voice sounded from down the dark corridor.

Free raised an eyebrow at the statement, feeling behind his pointed ears and fore sure, there it was, perched perfect in the fold between his ear and head. He knew it had to be somewhere near by. The werewolf happily picked it out of his ear, grabbing it and starting to file his nails into sharp claws.

"Thanks!" Free shouted gleefully, smiling as he hummed, and using the sound of his nail file as background music.

Crona came into view with Ragnarok lounging lazily on his Meister's head of soft cotton-pink hair. The Weapon smiled, teeth stretching over his shark-like face. "No problemo mutt!"

Yosh! The prologue is complete. I know, Maka wasn't in it at all, but she'll come in the next chapter or so. Oh, and if any of you people have a problem with OCs then bye-bye, 'cuz there will be one OC that is vital to the story. What do you guys think? I hope I didn't make anyone too OOC. There will, naturally be grammar or spelling mistakes, so no need to remind me please. Reviews are more than welcome, but know that flames will be used to keep me more in this cold winter weather. XP

P.S. I will take some time to update sue to my up-coming exams, so please be patient.

Thank you for reading and God bless you!