"Over the
hills and far away
He swears he will return one day
As sure as
the rivers reach the sea
In his arms is where she'll be."
--Gary Moore, Over the Hills and Far Away
Kristoph
Gavin was known to the world as a gifted and talented lawyer. He had
clients from all over the world, and a line of people a mile long
begging for his services. In truth, however, he was manipulative,
murderous, and some might go so far as to call him downright
evil.
Truth be told, Kristoph was all of these things. Ever since
the incident seven years ago, he had become a man possessed and
consumed by rage. Kristoph once was a genius, but like all men, the
genius mutated into madness. For seven years, he wanted one thing:
The head of Zak Gramarye, on a silver platter.
The one joyous
aspect of Kristoph's life could be found in his relationship with
Viola Cadaverini. Viola was a young woman, about the same age as
Kristoph, who owned a shop in the city. They had been lovers for
almost three years, and it was in this that Kristoph found comfort in
his mad and lonely life.
On this particular evening, Kristoph was
sitting in his and Viola's home, a glass of wine in hand. As he
listened to the sounds of the Metamorphosis Jazz Band, he reflected
on his life. Him and Viola had really only had one agreement to keep
their friendship going: No secrets. They hid nothing from each
other.
Kristoph, however, had not followed that rule. There were
many things he had not told his girlfriend, like the fact that he had
been poisoning a little girl for seven years. Like the fact that the
next time he saw Zak Gramarye, he would kill that man. Like the fact
that he was personally involved with the disbarring of Phoenix
Wright.
He glanced over at Viola, who was leisurely reading a book
while lying on the couch. He needed to tell her. It would come out
eventually, he was sure. Nothing could be hidden forever.
Kristoph
set his wine glass down and cleared his throat.
"Mi
Violetta?" he asked,looking over at Viola.
"Hm?"
she asked, barely glancing up from her book.
Kristoph glanced at
the ground before telling her everything. How Zak Gramarye, also
known as Shadi Enigmar, had cheated him out of his job, how he tried
to poison Drew Misham, how Phoenix Wright really lost his badge.
Throughout the confession, Viola's face changed from confused, to
horrified, to full of fury. When it was over, she was on her
feet.
"We had...an agreement," she spat, her voice
shaking with rage. "No secrets. No lies."
"Yes-"
Kristoph tried to reply, but what cut off by Viola screaming in full
force.
"All these years, you've been poisoning a girl who
trusted you, and you've been plotting murder because you lost a damn
poker game! Kristoph, that's...that's EVIL! That's horrible! If you
would stoop to deception to get someone fired just because they
bruised your ego, then I'm scared to think what you'd do to
me."
"Viola,I wouldn't-" Kristoph tried to
interrupt again, but was once more cut off.
"Shut UP!"
Viola screamed hysterically. "You disgust me! You tried to
murder an old man simply because he could sell you out! Have you been
spying on all these people, too?"
Her voice was getting less
and less powerful as tears streamed down her face.
"You crazy
bastard, I'm leaving!"
And she turned heel and stormed out of
the house.
She never returned.
The next day, Kristoph went to
the Borscht Bowl Club to eat dinner with Phoenix Wright. As he left,
he passed a man who seemed very familiar. He ganced over his
shoulder. There was no mistaking it; that man was Shadi Enigmar.
He
paused as he saw Wright and Enigmar go down into the basement to play
poker. This was his chance. Enigmar would pay.
A week had
passed. Viola sat in the little flat above her shop. She hadn't been
in there for a while since she moved in with Kristoph, but the
television still worked and she still had her key. After running out
on Kristoph, she had spent a long time in reflection. Which Kristoph
was the real one? she wondered. Was it the evil one, or the one who
seemed to love her, who listened to jazz, drank tea, and laughed with
her. Perhaps there was only one Kristoph. She didn't know what to
think anymore.
She knew one thing, and one thing only: she loved
Kristoph. The fact that he had ended up telling her all he did seemed
to indicate that he wasn't simply using her. They had loved each
other after all.
Suddenly, a report on the news caught her eye.
She stared at a large picture of Kristoph that took up the whole
screen as she listened to the reporter.
"Renowned attorney
Kristoph Gavin has been convicted in the murder of Shadi Smith.
Smith, a traveler, was killed with a blow to the head in the Borscht
Bowl Club one week ago..."
Viola dropped her
teacup.
Sitting in his cell in the local prison, Kristoph
sat idly drawing on a piece of paper. Glancing down, he saw that he
had drawn locations. A restaurant. A house. A club. A lake shore. All
places he and Viola had went to together.
"Mail's here, Mr.
Gavin," the guard said, handing Kristoph a black
envelope.
Kristoph sighed and slit it open. Out fell a ticket.
Kristoph looked at it before realizing what it was. Last year, he and
Viola had went to a jazz concert. This must be a ticket from that
very show. Flipping it over, he saw a simple message scribbled on
it.
Toffee-
I
still love you.
-Vi
Kristoph
stared at it for a full thirty seconds, blinking rapidly. Finally, he
grabbed a sheet of writing paper and a pen and began to write.
My
dearest Violetta,
it
said.
I
may be gone long before you read this, but I want you to know that I
really did care about you...