Hey everyone, I am back with another story and yes I am still alive...somehow. This is going to be related to my other story which I will finish for sure...someday. There may be some ooc-ness. I'm mainly trying to avoid it but some of it might pop up. Please read and enjoy. Oh and review. I know this chapter is short but I'll probably write better if I don't go mad rereading loooong chapters. Enjoy.:)

Disclaimer: I don't own Black Lagoon.


Trauma: A Blood Game

Chapter 1.

It was a cold winter day. We were having a function in our ballet school auditorium. I loved ballet; I was pretty good at it too. I was in the junior group.

I looked down at my feet. I don't really like the color white. Actually I like red better. I always liked red better. But my white ballet shoes looked nice with this tutu. I was wearing butterfly wings too but mama took them off after my performance. Our group had done a Cinderella routine. I was the fairy god mother.

The other group that performed was the 14 to 17 group. They were doing the Swan Lake routine. The girl who played the lead was my friend and neighbor, Sarah Grant. She was quite and reserved and didn't have many friends but she had talent. She was one of the best in her level. She was also my role model.

I remember, she would sit in the corner of the room long after her class ended and see the others practice. She once told me she practiced after everyone left. No one ever spoke to her, my friends said she was scary. I never found her scary, she was quite pretty actually. She was rather nice to me and looked after me. But things went bad that day.

I remember walking back to the seats with mama. She stepped away to talk with Miss Clair, my ballet teacher. The Swan Lake routine was nearly over and Sarah had gone to change back into her White swan costume. We were a few rooms away from the dressing room and I decided to wish her luck. Taking care that mama didn't see me I went to her room secret agent style. Truly believing she wouldn't see me. Mama didn't like me playing with Sarah.

I reached for the door but stopped when I heard the sound of an angry woman from inside. She was upset about something and so I opened the door a little to see what was wrong. I could see Sarah sitting on the chair with her right knee pulled up against her chest. She was crying, maybe she was hurt. In the mirror behind her I could see Mrs. Grant pacing angrily.

I didn't want to go in now so I whispered my best wishes and stepped back to mama.

She took me to the front where I sat on her lap for the rest of the program.

The final act of the routine had already begun when we reached our seat. I couldn't help but squeal happily as Sarah did all the steps beautifully. Everyone was glued to the stage; Cheering at the perfect pirouettes, long leaps and graceful jumps. It couldn't have been more beautiful.

That's when things went bad.

Just a few minutes before the finishing, Sarah dropped mid spin and let out a surreal wail.

I had been small, so I couldn't quite understand the situation and started to cry. Mama had to rush out with me in her arms. Scared; I had never felt this scared ever before.


That night, after I had eaten dinner, done my prayers and gone to bed, I couldn't sleep. So I went out of my room, hugging Olly, my pink haired doll to my chest. I was going to mama and daddy's bedroom when I heard noises in the living room.

I let my small legs carry me forward and heard mama's voice. I smiled and entered, calling out to her.

Just as I did, there was a loud bang and I covered my ears. Loud noises don't scare me anymore. When I looked up, I saw daddy lying on the floor with some handle sticking out of his neck and mama lay at my feet. There was something on her head. A small round mark. It was strange. Why they would sleep on the floor with eyes open in the middle of winter was beyond me. I looked up at the other person in the room.

Sarah stood before me, her right leg was in a cast. Daddy had told me what it was called when he had broken his arm. She was holding a black shiny pistol in her hand. It was just like what Joey had, his was green though.. I wondered if she had put hot water in it, the front was smoking.

She had a funny look on her face. Her eyes were wide and red, she probably watched too much TV. Her hair was a mess too, which was funny because Sarah always had her black hair pulled into a pony tail. She was smiling at me, a wide smile which probably hurt and I could see some blood on her mouth. I'm not scared of blood, with a friend like Joey, you get to see bloody knees everyday. She raised the pistol and pointed it at me.

"Why is mama sleeping here?" I asked her, pointing at the two people on the floor.

She lowered the pistol, I was glad she didn't wet me with it. She smiled wider and more blood dripped down her chin.

"They do that sometimes. Parents I mean." She said, "They like to sleep on the floor."

I nodded at her answer and smiled. She started to laugh then and I hushed her so as not to disturb mama and daddy. She raised her free hand to me, her grey eyes crinkling happily.

"Wanna come over and play, Becky?" She asked, smile all the while.

"But mama doesn't like it." I said softly.

"She wouldn't say no now, I spoke to her" She said with a chuckle." So, wanna?" she raised the pistol again.

I smiled and nodded," Sure."


It was snowing outside. Just looking out the glass door of the terminal made Rock pull his jacket tighter around himself. He looked to his red-haired partner, who was busy reading the front page of the newspaper at the stand. Dutch was collecting their luggage while Benny was off to the loo.

"It's so pathetic, it ain't even funny"

Usually Rock would ignore her but something about the mood made him look at her. She had been in a bad mood ever since Balalaika had informed them to pack up for New York. But something made him feel worried. He didn't exactly like the feeling in his gut.

Walking up to her, he looked down at the bold black headlines that she was staring at.

THE BUTCHER STRIKES AGAIN

The article said something about a serial killer that liked to chop people up and was pretty much a cannibal. Considering that this was a country with a good police force he couldn't help but agree with the woman at his side. But then again, this wasn't Roanapur. One couldn't just go on a murderous rampage till they found the killer.

Revy's mood was starting to get to him and the added feeling of impending doom wasn't helping much either. He wanted to go back to Roanapur; as messed up as that seemed. At least he knew he wasn't the only one.

Just then he saw Dutch returning with their luggage with Benny in tow. He couldn't help but smile a little at the sight. Dutch was dressed in a bottle green turtle neck while Benny looked neater than ever in his red sweater and dark brown hair.

Considering their history with the FBI, Revy and Benny had had to change their appearance, but Revy had straight out refused to dye her hair, instead she went for a sleeker look with her hair down and bangs brushed to one side. It was fascinating how much difference a simple change of hairstyle could bring about. Let's just say Benny didn't have such luck.

"Next time, you bring the luggage. I ain't waiting in that long ass line again." Dutch spoke, adjusting his ever present glasses. Actually Rock had never seen him without them. Dutch had a soothing voice. At least Rock thought so. It could calm him down in the worse of panic attacks and right now he was glad about it. He smiled and reached for his bag.

"Sorry Dutch." Dutch simply nodded, he didn't seem too happy to be here either.

"So, where to now?" Benny asked looking uncomfortable as he pulled on his hair for the hundredth time.

"Balalaika said she'd have a vehicle arranged to drop us off at our residence." Dutch said as he picked up his luggage and moved towards the exit.

"And where exactly is that?" Revy spoke up at last, sounding pretty pissed. Rock made a mental note to avoid annoying her with his existence.

"Hell if I know." was all Dutch said.


The ride had been waiting when they came out, for that Rock had been glad. The city cold was too bitter and he liked his fingers free from frostbite, thank you very much. It had been a quite ride, no one said a word. It wasn't a comfortable silence or an uncomfortable one for that matter. It just was. And now they stood in the cold two story building. It belonged to a 'Friend' of Balalaika's. It was quite inconspicuous actually. It wasn't much, an average sized building with two bedrooms on the top floor and two on the bottom floor, two bathrooms; one attached to one of the rooms upstairs (claimed by Revy and no one dared to argue) and one at the bottom. The other room on the top was taken by Benny. It had the maximum number of sockets and if their reputation was anything to go by, it also provided maximum security and escape time.

The kitchen was spacious and had a healthy stock of canned food and alcohol. No Bacardi though, Revy was gonna have a fit. Where was she anyway?
The dining slash living room was medium sized with cream walls and red and brown furniture. Felt quite homely. A television sat in one corner with no socket to plug it in.

Just under the staircase was a door that had a monstrosity of a lock hanging on it. Rock fiddled with it for a bit, then let out a heavy sigh which turned into a big yawn. He was tired and so was Dutch apparently as he waved goodnight and went to the room he claimed. Benny and Revy had long since disappeared upstairs. He went upstairs to drop Revy's luggage in her room.

"Since when did I become a bellboy." He muttered angrily. As he reached the top of the stairs he could see the glow under the door on his left. Benny had some stamina, didn't he? The door to the room on his left was still open and the lights were still on. He dragged the luggage behind him and stepped in and nearly laughed. Revy lay on the bed face first, fully clothed minus boots with a bit of drool running down her chin. She must have passed out the moment she dropped there. Dropped seemed like the appropriate word.

Switching off the lights and shutting the door he dragged himself down the stairs. On entering his room a wave of fatigue hit him hard and nearly tipped him over. Maintaining his balance he straightened himself and kicked off his shoes as he dragged his body to the bed. Laying down he waited for the room to stop spinning and closed his eyes, falling asleep instantly.


Tell me what you think. Yes, that means review.:)

Enjoy.