Hi there, I'm back! This time, with a hopefully interesting new story. I hope it doesn't bomb, I did put thought into this plot. :P

Basically, the story is AU. I like to write AU. The characters might be a little OOC (sorry), but I will try to keep them as IC as possible. Also, there still are weapons, but there is not Shibusen which means no meisters.

It is SoulxMaka, my favorite SE couple :D

Well, enough of my nonsense. Enjoy.

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Free Captivity

Chapter One

Most Wanted

She combed a hand through her bangs, feeling the pain of her headache steadily increase. The only other person in the room besides herself, her assistant, was quietly shuffling papers and occasionally scribbling something down.

The tension in the room was unbearable. She pinched the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger as she stared at the same page of minuscule black print for what felt like the sixtieth time that night.

Maka Albarn did not like desk work. If anything, she passionately hated it.

Seeing as where she worked was a detective agency well known for its success and efficiency, she figured she would be seeing a lot more action. And by action, she did not mean sitting at a typewriter all day.

With a loud groan, she leaned back in her seat, stretching her long legs out in front of her. Her assistant looked up briefly from his work. He was a rather nondescript kind of guy, just an average Joe.

Dark brown hair, gray eyes, tanned skin and a medium build. He wasn't too much to look at. Besides, the guy was married.

Maka closed her green eyes, longing for sleep. They had been sifting through file after file after file for what felt like hours. Her long hair was down and flowed freely over the back of the seat. Her black trench coat was open, revealing a white button up shirt with a tie, and her baggy black pants.

She heard her assistant sigh.

"If you haven't found anything, you should continue looking."

"You can keep looking. I'm sick of this." She grumbled back, not moving from her position.

"The Lieutenant said--"

"You know that the Queen Bitch won't keep her word," she growled, "she hates us. You know this."

He sighed exasperatedly. "She hates you, so therefore she hates me."

"Doesn't make a difference does it?"

She sat up in her chair, swinging one leg over the side so she could face her partner.

"It doesn't," she said, answering her own question, "however it doesn't change the fact that she will NEVER give us any kind of opportunity, no matter how many of her chores we do." She growled at the memory of the woman's smug smile.

He only shook his head, not bothering to pursue the subject.

"I'm going." She swung the other leg over the chair and stood up. "How about you?"

He sighed. "I'll be leaving soon as well. My wife will be worried."

She nodded, pulling her trench coat tightly about her, pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail, and grabbed her umbrella before she left the office.

She kicked her feet as she walked through the puddles. She didn't have to worry too much about splashing anyone; there wasn't anyone out at this hour.

She sighed, and pulled a folded sheet of paper from her pocket. She unfolded it and stared at the photograph on the front. It was basically a wanted poster of one of the most dangerous men her agency had ever dealt with.

This man resembled a 'mad scientist' in all senses with his thinning, frizzy white hair and slightly insane eyes concealed by glasses with rather thick lenses.

He had been a slippery one, and very skilled at avoiding detection.

His crimes were numerous. Some of the worst crimes involved combining people with animals, as well as cruel and inhumane experiments on Weapons.

Weapons were unique. They had a humanoid appearance, but could transform into a certain type of weapon.

Each Weapon varied in size, shape, and strength. Many humans shunned the Weapons because of their differences, but most of all, out of fear. Weapons were powerful. No one quite knew how they came to be. Which explained why this man was using them in his experiments. His methods, however, were incorrect and torturous, usually leaving the Weapons half-dead.

She refolded the paper and placed it back into the pocket of her trench coat, since she had reached her apartment.

She closed her umbrella as she walked across the silent lobby, the only sounds her breathing, the drip of water, and her footsteps which echoed loudly.

Eager to reach her apartment and her bed, she pounded the up arrow button on the elevator, and waited.

The reasons she and her partner had to work so late was all for a promotion. They desperately needed a promotion if they wanted to work out in the field.

Unfortunately, Maka and the Lieutenant had gotten off to a bad start on her first day. Maka, being overconfident and proud, had said some unnecessary things. This woman was someone who was used to people kissing ass, and was furious that Maka had so casually bad-mouthed her. Therefore, in her a sickly sweet voice, she assigned her and her new partner to desk work so they could, "really understand the job they were taking on."

Half asleep, Maka trudged to her room and unlocked the door to her apartment. She tore off her wet trench coat, kicked off her boots, yanked off her tie and stumbled to her bedroom, where she flopped down with a groan on the bed. Her alarm clock read 4:46 AM. Just wonderful. Tomorrow would be total hell on three hours of sleep.

Within seconds, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

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The man hummed to himself as he scrubbed the bloodstains off of a long, rod-shaped object.

After he had scrubbed the old blood off, he smiled as he turned to the being on the floor at his feet.

"So how are you feeling today my boy?" He asked, in a singsong voice.

The one on the floor didn't answer. He did not even look up.

"Are you ready to talk today? Hmmm? Yes or no?"

Still no answer.

"Shame, shame." The man mumbled to himself and he placed the rod on a desk, then opened a drawer and pulled out a long and lethal looking syringe filled with a softly glowing golden serum.

"Are you absolutely certain that you are not willing to speak?"

He spoke now. "How many times do I have to tell you, you crazy old coot, that I have no idea what you're rambling about?"

The man shook his head and clicked his tongue sorrowfully, shifting his large glasses on his thin, pointed nose.

"I can always tell when your kind is lying, my boy."

He grabbed him by the metal choker around his neck, forcing him to look up.

The boy's red eyes met the madman's eyes. Then he smirked.

"Do as much as you want, Toadface, but I don't answer to people like you."

That seemed to have done it for the man.

He cackled, showing what little teeth he had left. "It would seem you require a lesson or twelve."

The boy replied with a smirk. "Teach all you want, just don't expect me to do any homework."

With that, the rod was seized again, and the boy received another bloody welt to accompany the many on his body, the fresh blood soaking into his pure white hair.

Then he shoved the syringe ruthlessly into the boy's neck, closed the door to the cage, and exited the room.

He clenched his jaw as the burning liquid seeped through his veins. There was no way he was gonna give that old sack of shit any kind of satisfaction. As usual, he was sure to make no sound as the venom was circulated through his body.

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There! There's chapter one. I hope you liked it...review and let me know if I should continue...