•«Phoenix»•
"Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it."
— Terry Pratchett
«PART I»
—•— Saturday, 16 November (2:35am) —•—
There were a lot of things that were red. Roses were red. Raspberries were red. Even the beautiful iridescence of rubies were red. But what this person found the most fascinating of all was the deep scarlet of blood.
Lifting a right hand into the ray of moonlight that shone through the window, trails of the crimson substance dripped from the blade and across the fingers, the palm of the hand, and then over the wrist and down the arm, staining the once clean white shirt. The person watched the dark liquid for a moment longer and caught the familiar scent of metal.
Carmine eyes flickered to the body lying on the floor.
"It's a shame, really," the person muttered, slowly standing up. "After all, you're just an innocent." A pause. "Or are you? How would I know? I've never met you in my life."
The body didn't respond. It's only sign of life was now pooling in a puddle of red around it.
Slowly circling around, "It's nothing personal, of course," the person continued. "I'm quite sure that you were a wonderful girl. I saw your exam grades framed on the wall — a scholar, hm?" Still no response. "Thought so. I really wouldn't have went through all that trouble. I really wouldn't have. It's just that… Well, I can't indulge in secrets, can I?"
The person's gaze fell on the dead girl's hair. It was long and spread around her like the wings of a Phoenix. The important part? It was auburn.
"You know, the funny thing is, you remind me a bit of… Well… It might seem insignificant to you, but it means so much more to me. I couldn't — I just couldn't — allow you to keep living. Quite silly, really, but it brings back so many unfortunate memories."
The person stopped circling and knelt down towards her face which was open in a frozen scream. A scream that was cut off too early. A scream that would no longer be heard. Fingers trailed tentatively across her right cheek. It was cold.
"I couldn't bear it. I had to get rid of you. You look too much like her. Too similar, too inseparable." The person flicked a lighter switch and a tiny flame flickered. "Now there will be no comparison."
Holding the lighter to her hair, the auburn strands erupted into flames. The person pulled away and put the lighter back into their pocket, watching with morbid fascination as the fire spread from the ends of her hair towards her body like a wildfire. And like a wildfire it grew. The flames danced and hot ash floated around. The once dark room was now set ablaze in a golden glow, and the smell of burning flesh encased the room like thick smoke.
A sneer and then the person backed away and escaped through the windows, leaving the apartment to burn in flames.
—•— Sunday, 17 November (10:24am) —•—
"Jesus Christ," muttered Kaoru when she saw the mess. Or, at least, what was left of the mess.
"I know this isn't really the way you were planning on spending your weekend, girls," said Professor Utonium as he stepped over burnt debris, "but this is incredibly important."
"What happened here?" asked Momoko, already getting down to business.
"Peach detected a black aura here last night."
"Why didn't you call us?"
He sighed. "The fire department, the medics and the police were here last night. They've been here for hours until this morning. Even the Powerpuff Girls Z are not above the law—"
"Despite saving this city's ass," grumbled Kaoru under her breath.
"—and so it was out of the question to bring you three to the crime scene. After all, it seemed like a normal case. Nothing extraordinary about it at all. But Peach is sure of detecting something here. It was extremely difficult to get permission to even come in here today, but the mayor managed to persuade the police force to let us in. Make good use of this time, girls. We might not get another chance."
"Summary?" asked Momoko.
"I only got a brief report: a young woman. Just passed through senior high school and was going to start university next week after a work placement. The medics and the police aren't releasing any confidential information about her yet to keep the press at bay and to give her parents some time to...compose themselves."
"That's alright. But is there any other information on her?"
"Her parents confirmed her appearance. Although…after the fire, she was hardly recognisable."
"I feel sorry for her mum and dad," said Miyako, folding her arms; a sympathetic expression on her face. "To find their daughter dead by being burnt in a fire. No one deserves to die like that."
"I agree. But the thing is, I don't think this is just any ordinary fire incident."
Kaoru frowned. "Well, you did mention that there was a black aura here last night. Black particles were able to cause the fire?"
"Not exactly, Kaoru," said Professor Utonium. "I think someone — a villain — was here last night and murdered the girl. If the villain inflicted any wounds in the girl before they set the place on fire, I wouldn't know. Her body was...almost a blackened corpse when the firefighters hosed the fire out and the paramedics finally got to her. So there is no other obviously visible damage that we can see. Although I have information that an autopsy might be performed next week if her parents are willing. But I have a feeling they won't want to and just give her a proper burial."
"What was so important about her that made her a target of the villains?" asked Momoko, genuinely curious.
"I don't know," he quietly admitted. "I'm hoping when we get access to any confidential information about her that we'll be able to draw connections."
"Any relations? Anyone who might hate her? Was she generally likeable?"
"Like I said, any personal and confidential information isn't being released. But I did do my own bit of snooping around the police and overheard that she was a nice and friendly person and that she was loved by everyone in school and in general. The fact that someone would hate her so much as to kill her… Seems highly unlikely, really. But as I said, it's impossible to tell now without proper information."
Miyako asked another question and the professor continued to answer, but Momoko moved away from the three and towards what she assumed was the bedroom of this apartment. Blackened debris covered the place and the woodwork of the archway was half-broken and lingered menacingly. The wallpaper of what used to be a beautiful shade of red was now peeling off.
She paused.
The fire must have done more than kill the girl. It practically scorched most of the apartment into a mess.
Asbestos dangled through the gaps off the cracked ceiling and fibreglass foam scattered across the floor of the bedroom. She could still see particles of fibreglass drifting through the air and she quickly slipped the ribbon from her hair and tied it around her mouth. If she breathed that shit into her lungs, she'd be dead.
Momoko slowly took a step forward and looked around. Everything in the bedroom seemed normal enough. Well, normal for a bedroom that had been half-destroyed by a fire. But the bed was still intact, surprisingly enough, though its black metal poles were melted and twisted and the mattress was a goner.
What the hell happened here? She frowned. Who would do this?
She walked towards the dresser and opened the drawers, checking them one by one. But she doubted she would find anything useful; the police had already checked the apartment, and surely they wouldn't leave the dresser alone. The dresser was the only thing in the bedroom that hadn't been touched by the fire because it was in the far corner. This meant that no one could accidentally miss checking the large mahogany structure.
Still, it was always a good idea to be doubly sure.
But her search resulted in nothing.
She sighed. What am I supposed to do now? She glanced around. Everything else in the bedroom is destroyed, and the living area is in worse condition. Finding clues in these ruins was like finding Hephaestus in his workshop — not impossible; but incredibly difficult.
Momoko's gaze flickered back to the dresser. On top, there were photo frames. She felt excited for a moment, thinking that she'd finally found something to tell her what the girl had looked like and, perhaps, get closer to what had happened last night.
But no. They were just nature photographs — trees, flowers, landscapes and the like.
Was she an avid photographer? Momoko wondered. If she was, then she must've been very good.
Momoko noticed the perfect details of the photographs: how the focus wasn't always directed in the middle but sometimes to certain areas which you wouldn't normally notice until someone pointed it out. And the effect worked wonderfully.
One of the photographs caught her eye and she gently picked up the frame. Under normal circumstances, she probably would've missed it, if it had not been for the fact that just a few minutes ago they'd been talking about the subject in the photograph.
The photograph presented flames. Golden, burning flames that withered and twisted. It shouldn't have been beautiful. But it was.
She regarded it with a curious look for a moment before gently brushing her fingers over it. She hadn't expected the photograph to suddenly displace itself from the frame and flutter to the floor. She was about to kneel down to pick it up when she noticed the piece of paper stuck to the back of the photo frame where the photograph of the fire had originally been.
What the…
Ignoring the fallen photograph, Momoko unfolded the paper to reveal a note. She frowned as she read it.
What the hell?
—•— Monday, 25 November (5:39pm) —•—
"…and it seems like our perpetrator has continued. The police are still undergoing an investigation, calling in forensics to examine the crime scenes. We only hope that these recent murders will—"
"You're going to become depressed if you keep listening to that," said Sakurako as she wrapped one of the sweet boxes in coloured parchment paper and tied it with a ribbon at the top.
Momoko gave an apologetic smile. "Sorry. But these murders have been all over the news lately," she said as she turned off the radio which was sitting on the shop's counter.
At the age of seventeen, Momoko had managed to find a job at the quiet and serene sweet shop that her kind acquaintance, Sakurako, owned. Still staying true to her love of treats due to her sweet tooth, she enjoyed working here. There was something peaceful and happy about how people came in and bought chocolates either to take out for their sweethearts or to sit in and eat as a fun treat.
She couldn't see why, even after the drama with the Sedusa incident, Sakurako still wanted to work in such a small confectionary shop. She had the opportunity to go anywhere with her boyfriend, Souichiro, who came to help out in the shop over the weekends. But, even so, she stayed.
Momoko assumed it was probably attachment. After all, Sakurako's parents had once owned this shop. Letting the shop go would be like letting go of her past…
"With all due respect, Momoko," said Sakurako, "I'm surprised that you're not worried."
"About what?"
Sakurako gave a shy smile. "I don't mean to be so forward, but the news recently announced that what the victims all had in common were that they were female and had long auburn hair. And, well…" she trailed off and gestured to her employee's hair. Sakurako suddenly squinted her eyes and regarded Momoko suspiciously. "Have you been getting enough sleep, recently?"
"Of course I have."
They both knew she was lying. Sakurako put her hands on her hips. "Momoko, be honest. When did you go to sleep last night?"
She reluctantly answered, "Two in the morning."
Sakurako glared at her. "And you woke up at six, didn't you?" She didn't need a confirmed answer. "Momoko! You can't have only four hours of sleep every night! That's not healthy! Eight hours. At least eight hours of sleep is required for a healthy and energetic day. I mean, look at you! Have you noticed the shadows under your eyes? You look pale and exhausted. Honestly, Momoko. Sometimes I think that you're trying to tire yourself out."
Momoko smiled ever so slightly. Sakurako was only five years older than her but practically acted like a mother every chance she got. Not that Momoko complained. It was a nice change from the lack of attention she got at home because of her younger sister.
Right. Kuriko.
She didn't hate her little sister, per se. She just wasn't too fond of her. The girl had been cheeky enough when she was younger, but that had been bearable. Now, she had grown into a more mischievous young teenager with an attitude and the personality to steal any limelight from Momoko when given the chance.
Okay, so perhaps there was a tiny bit of hate in there. But Momoko wasn't out to ruin her sister's life; at least, not the way Kuriko was. Momoko just simply couldn't be bothered with her.
"What do you even do when you're not working here?" asked Sakurako.
Going to school, doing my homework, revising for my winter exams, leading a double life as a superheroine, washing the dishes, cleaning my room, working here in this shop, leading a double life as a superheroine, avoiding my sister, solving preternatural murders, lying to my parents, leading a double life as a superheroine…
"Nothing much," Momoko finally replied.
"Then why don't you use your spare time to actually sleep?"
Momoko simply smiled in reply. Sakurako took that as her cue to drop the subject, knowing that she wouldn't get anywhere with it.
"Just please remember that your health comes first."
"Will do."
"Good. Now, help me out here. I've got an order for a box set of two strawberry crèmes, four truffles, two caramels, and four hazelnuts."
"Size?"
"Small. It's a homecoming a gift for a young daughter."
"Aw! How sweet!"
Sakurako smiled widely. "It is. And the father will be here soon to pick the set up."
—•— Monday, 25 November (11:36pm) —•—
Remembering Sakurako's words, Momoko decided to set aside her study material and go to sleep a little earlier. After all, she had school, didn't she?
She sat on her bed, already washed and changed into her long pink sleeve and brown shorts. But before she went to sleep, she opened the top drawer of her bedside table. Inside it was a piece of paper. The exact same paper that she'd found two weeks ago at the fire incident.
She had been about to tell the Professor and her friends about her important discovery, but something had held her back at the time. She wasn't quite sure what it was, but in the end she never told them and the note was left as a secret from them.
She felt slightly guilty. Here she was, possibly holding an important clue that even the police had yet to discover. She had no permission to take anything from the crime scene, and yet she had. Without anyone's knowledge.
And she still hadn't told anyone.
She could hand in the note now to the Professor, but then she'd have to deal with the enquiries of why she held out on this information so long. She could also have given it to the police, but then she could be suspected in the murder case for altering the crime scene.
No, there were too many things to deal with. She would simply have to keep this information to herself.
If it even was information.
The paper only presented words and numbers. Misakimachi Street 101-0065.
"Misakimachi Street?" she read aloud.
Was this an address? And, if so, why? Why was this address written onto a piece of paper? And why was it hidden?
Momoko sighed. Perhaps she was looking into this way too much. Perhaps the girl had just written down the address at some point and decided to put it behind the photograph. Perhaps she hadn't wanted anyone to find it. There was a list of possibilities.
Finally, Momoko put the note back into the drawer and turned off the bedside lamp, getting into bed and pulling the duvet cover over her head. After a couple of minutes, she fell asleep.
—•— Tuesday, 26 November (9:10am) —•—
Momoko had no desire to follow her mother's orders of driving Kuriko to school this morning. But as long as she was living under the very same roof as the rest of her family, she had no say.
"You're lucky I'm a nice person or else I would've left your ass at the petrol station by now," she had muttered.
Kuriko raised an eyebrow. "No you wouldn't. Or else I would've phoned mum and you'd be in trouble."
"Don't test me," replied Momoko, pressing down onto the accelerator, hoping to drop Kuriko off to the school as quickly as possible.
When she turned the corner and reached the junior high school, she had finally relaxed from her tense stature and shooed Kuriko out of the car.
And now here she was, in her own school assembly hall. There was a road safety talk today and Momoko felt like she had the word 'guilty' written on her forehead for speeding up on the road this morning, despite having only gotten her driver's license just a few months ago.
A police officer got up onto the stage as the students in the assembly hall quietened down. A PowerPoint slide was projected onto a large screen at the front as the lights were turned down.
A small prelude was given by the headmaster, introducing the officer. Then the officer began the talk by saying, "There will be graphic images within this presentation. If any of you feel uncomfortable at any time, please do not hesitate to leave this presentation and talk to the nurse. I hope it won't come to that."
And then the blank screen in the dark changed to a video. It showed the scene of a motorway as cars sped across the road at the normal speed. Except for one car which seemed to be switching lanes regularly, almost as if for fun.
Momoko could already sense the danger of what was to come before it even happened.
Suddenly, the funny car in the video managed to whack itself against another car, and — surprisingly — it went straight off the edge of the motorway and flew over the railings, falling down the cliff's edge of where the motorway was situated. And then, a fiery explosion erupted onto the screen and there was smoke.
The officer then said, "Do you know what happened to the driver?"
The students in the assembly hall shook their heads, their full attention given.
The officer rewinded the video. Back to where the car had just flown over the railings and off the edge of the cliff. And then he paused it. He brought out a long stick and pointed it at the screen. No, not at the screen. At a…
There was a collection of gasps from the audience.
It was a body. The video may have been paused, but it was clear to see that the body of the reckless driver was spinning and twisting violently through the air as it was thrust out of the car. So violently, in fact, that one of the driver's arms had tore right out.
Momoko knew there was no way that the driver would be able to survive that.
The officer then said in a grim voice, "Folks, I wish I could say to you that this was a film. That this was fake and casted. But the cold reality is that this is all real. This accident occurred on the Tohoku Motorway on a journey from Tokyo to Aomori two years ago. It was caught on tape by a CCTV camera. Of course, by the time the medics arrived, it was too late. The man was dead by the time we reached him."
He paused.
"Folks, there's a reason why I'm here. There's a reason why I'm standing here talking to you about road safety. You students are probably rolling your eyes at me like you've heard it all before. And you may have. But the fact is, despite your knowledge and understanding, road accidents keep happening nearly everyday in this country. In 2010, we had 4863 deaths from road accidents."
He switched the video to the next slide which showed the statistics.
"In 2011, we had 4612 deaths. In 2012, we had 4490 deaths. And in 2013, as we're approaching the end of the year, we've had 4436 deaths so far. The reason why I'm here talking to you about road safety is because many of you are probably learning how to drive, and some of you may already be driving. Folks, the last thing I want to see is any of you from this school ending up as just another statistic that I'll be telling the next school I visit. I don't want anyone from this school — or anywhere else for that matter — ending up as number 4437."
The students were all silent.
The officer sighed and said, "My job is to attend to a road accident and to note details and record accounts of witnesses and survivors, if any. My job is to find out why such an accident happened and to call in any other authority for responsibility. Years of training and years of my profession would make you think I'm a hard-boiled man and that nothing could drive me to tears."
He paused.
"Well, you're wrong. I go to a road accident, and I immediately know whether someone's died or not. Call it instinct, call it intuition. But when I know that someone's died, I have to be the first one to search for the body. And let me tell you right now that searching for a mutilated corpse and not knowing what state the person is in and hoping that they're alive even though you know they're not, is the most difficult and heartbreaking moment of my job."
He closed his eyes for a second, as though already remembering the faces of those who were no longer here. Momoko seemed to be caught into the moment, just as the other students were. Not a single student was laughing or mocking or even plain bored. Everyone was listening. Everyone was attentive.
The officer finally opened his eyes. "There is one accident that really stuck in my mind, even to this day. It was a road accident I attended to three years ago. I arrived to the scene and found a red Porsche smashed, scorched from a fire explosion and twisted on the road while a teenage boy was swearing up and down beside it. But he was alright. He was living and breathing. But I smelt it, the blood. I could see the…" He took a deep breath. "I could see the amount of red pooling from under the wreckage of the car, and I knew… I just knew…"
He sighed.
"I looked under the scrap and found the body of a teenage girl. She was burnt. Badly. And I just knew she was the girlfriend of the boy who was panic-stricken. I took accounts from him. He had only just gotten his license and was taking his girlfriend out for a stroll out on the road. Had a drink too many, and while his girlfriend had been sober, she had been the one to pay the price. Folks, I'm sure you've never experienced this, and I sure as hell hope you never do. But that day, I had to knock on a door at midnight and say to a loving father that his little princess wasn't coming back home. Ever."
Momoko could see the emotion in his eyes.
"That girl had done well enough in her exams that she was given the chance to become an applicant for the University of Todai. She had high hopes and high dreams to get a doctorate in medicine. She had friends and had a whole future ahead of her. One mistake, folks. That's all it takes. One mistake and your life is gone, just like that."
And at the moment, Momoko knew she agreed with him. However, she didn't know that she would be a victim of her own in the near future. Because if she had, she would've avoided it long ago.
But like all things, you couldn't avoid danger until you came face-to-face with it.
One mistake.
—•— Tuesday, 26 November (4:13pm) —•—
After school, Momoko sat in her car in front of an old familiar house. She'd turned the engine off ages ago. Now she was debating whether she should go inside or not.
Fight or flight? she wondered.
She stared at the paper in her hand. Then she glanced back at the house where the street name was presented clearly in capital letters.
"Misakimachi Street," she muttered. "House number 101-0065."
She knew this place. She'd been here before, back in her much younger and naïve years as a small teenager and a new superheroine. But that was four years ago. There hadn't been any trouble coming from this house in years. She was surprised. Why was this address leading her here?
And, more importantly, did she want to go in?
She had spent her entire school day debating whether or not to search for the house referred to in the address. Finally, right after the bell had rung, she'd sucked up the courage to hunt it down. And now she was sitting here, wondering if to turn back.
I've made it this far…
It was strange, really. She hadn't expected to be led here of all places. The dark house looked the same as always. Windows smashed, curtains drawn, a wooden front door half-beaten down, the middle of the roof bearing a gaping hole like something had crashed into it many times.
Or someone, she added wryly, reminiscing the past.
A few minutes passed and she finally sighed. Well, it's now or never.
She opened the car door and pushed herself out before walking up to the door of the house. Her hand hovered and she hesitated.
Fight or flight?
She could either stay here and continue with the investigation, or she could turn back and live on with her normal life.
When she decided to press that doorbell, she had no idea what a mistake she was making.
Ding-dong.
She stepped back from the door when she heard the sound resonate throughout the old and not-quite-abandoned house. At least, she hoped it wasn't abandoned. She doubted that her former enemy would leave his home.
A few seconds later, the badly-beaten door creaked open and she realised she hadn't prepared what to say.
"Uh, hey there, Mojo," she greeted weakly.
He stared at her through dull eyes before muttering, "I hate charities so don't think I'm giving any money. Now, go away, little kid."
He was about to shut the door but Momoko wedged her foot in between, stopping the action. "Actually, I don't want anything from you. I just want to talk to you."
He opened the door slightly and sighed. "I'm out of the crime business. Go talk to someone else, you're wasting your time."
Momoko only just realised what seemed so different about him from before. He didn't add 'mojo' to any of his sentences anymore. That, and he seemed hairier than usual…
She shook her head. "No, it's not that. Look, can I come in?"
He regarded her suspiciously. "Who are you?"
"A student. I'm doing some research and would like to talk to you." Well, it's not much of a lie, I am trying to figure something out.
He considered it for a moment before sighing and opening the door properly to let her in. She uttered a 'thank you' but he simply brushed it off and walked on ahead through the hallway.
"Close the door behind you," he mumbled.
She shut it, or at least tried to since it didn't quite fit with the doorframe, but then she realised how dark it was inside the house. How on earth could he see in here? She took a cautious step forward, hoping she was going the right way. Then she suddenly stumbled over something and hit the floor with a loud whack.
"Ow," she grumbled.
"Need me to turn on the lights?"
"Yeah, that would be helpful, thanks," she muttered, not one bit thankful.
The lights weren't as bright as she expected them to be. In fact, they were incredibly dim and the colours she could now see were very dull and didn't help to make the house seem any more welcoming.
She looked down to see what she'd stumbled over and found a framed drawing. The drawing was more of a scribble, and it was obvious that a child had produced it. There was one big purple circle on the left, and then three more smaller messy circles on the right in the colours of red, blue and green.
She frowned. What's this supposed to be? A bad drawing attempt of a lollipop?
And why on earth did Mojo have a child's drawing framed? And what was it doing on the ground?
Well, actually, she wasn't too surprised that it was on the ground. Now that the lights were on, she could see that everything in this house was a mess and nearly everything was lying on the ground. Be it large wooden crates, empty water bottles or banana peels (which she carefully avoided).
She finally found him sitting sullenly on a sofa that looked half-chewed with springs protruding from it in odd angles and foam pouring out.
"Sit," he offered.
"Er, no thanks. I think I'll stay standing," she said, backing away from the sofa.
"So what do you want?"
Momoko also realised another thing. He was no longer as animated as he used to be. The life and energy seemed to have been drained from him. Now he was more of an eggshell of what he once was.
"You've heard about the recent murders, haven't you?" she asked, feeling that was the best place to start.
The only reason she could think for the address leading her here to Mojo was that he was most likely involved in the crimes in someway.
He looked up slightly. "Heard about them, yes. Do I really know about them? No."
"Really? I'm surprised. You haven't been involved in the murders in any way, have you?"
He snorted. "Oh, so that's what this is about. There's been serious murders and you automatically think that the former villain is part of it."
"I'm afraid you're wrong."
He shook his head. "No, I'm afraid you're wrong. Look, I've told you, I'm out of the crime business scene. I don't know what the other villains are up to or whether they're conspiring something. And, honestly, I couldn't care less. That's their problem, not mine. My days were numbered when the Powerpuff Girls Z got rid of Him, and I'm not going back to that again."
Momoko sighed. "I don't have anything against you. I really don't. But…people have found your address in one of the crime scenes and we feel that you might be connected."
If he doesn't know that I'm Blossom, then there's no point in making it obvious.
Mojo was surprised, and it seemed to be the only real emotion he'd shown so far. "What? My address? Why?"
"I'm not sure. That's why I'm here. We think that you—"
"Might be involved?" he finished. "You're wrong. I'm not. I don't even care about the people anymore. They can go on with their happy lives. I'm done."
"That's not what the evidence says."
Mojo scoffed. "You want evidence? Then check with Tokyo's security team. Or, even better, check with the Powerpuff Girls Z. I've hardly been outside of this house ever since I quit. I don't know much about what's really going on out there, and I'd much rather not. But I haven't caused any trouble for four years, so don't think you can pin this murder on me."
She knew it was true. He really hadn't caused any trouble at all for the past four years. And neither had any of the other villains. The Gangreen Gang only messed around for a few weeks after Him's disappearance, but even they lost the motivation to keep going on and so they stopped. It was only the recent murders that had suddenly required the superheroines' attendance, or else they could have safely said that the Powerpuff Girls Z were no more.
She nodded. "No, I believe you. There's just been a lot of speculation about these murders. You're still not off the hook quite yet until we either obtain solid proof that you're not involved, or we catch the real perpetrator. But I think this will do us for now. Thanks for your time."
He grumbled something under his breath and walked through the hallway, gesturing for her to follow. They reached the door and he opened it. But just before Momoko left, she suddenly remembered something and turned back around to point at the framed drawing on the floor.
"What is that?" she asked.
He followed her gaze and suddenly looked pained. "Just a drawing," he said quietly.
There was something in his voice. Something…emotional?
But just as quickly as it happened, Mojo quickly snapped back to his normal self and said, "It's time for you to leave. Bye."
And without waiting for a response, he slammed the door into her face.
A few moments later and she breathed, "Well, that was intriguing." Then she glanced at her watch. "Shit. It's almost time for dinner. I better get home quick."
Without looking back at the house, she stepped inside her car and drove off, not paying attention to the eyes that watched her from afar.
—•— Tuesday, 26 November (9:17pm) —•—
The woman knew there was something wrong the second she saw the candle's flame flicker suddenly in the dark. She had been preparing and pampering for a night with her lover but now the hair on her neck stood straight and she was fearful of looking behind her.
She scolded herself for being so paranoid. It wasn't like it would be her husband. He was out on a business trip and most likely wouldn't give a damn about her.
That was the reason she was here in this luxury hotel, after all.
If he wouldn't love her, she would find love from someone else.
But even as she dabbed powder onto her soft cheeks, she simply knew that something wasn't right here. The fact that the room was dark and the candle was the only object giving light didn't help either. Not to mention that the window in the room was open…
No. Stop being so paranoid!
But she couldn't shake the feeling…
All you have to do is turn around. That's it. That's all you have to do. Just check behind you. And when you realise that there's nothing there, you can get on with it before he arrives.
But still. She couldn't bear to turn around and—
The coolness of metal touched her bare back.
Her eyes widened and she held her breath, not daring to look into the mirror to meet the intruder's eyes. The pair stood in silence for a moment, neither saying a word or moving in the slightest.
She finally found the ability to squeak out, "W-who are you?"
She gathered the courage to regard the person in the mirror. But it was difficult to make out the figure in the dim light, especially since the person was standing behind her. But she noticed how the lips curved and, in a whisper, said, "How about you and I play a game?"
"I-I'm not interested."
An amused chuckle. "I was referring to hangman."
She looked confused. "Hangman?" Of all the things she had expected this person to do, playing hangman was not one of them.
"Yes. You know how to play. Don't you?"
She hesitated before nodding.
"Good. Start guessing."
—•— Wednesday, 27 November (5:23am) —•—
Momoko could smell the blood before she saw it. There was something incredibly strong about the smell. It was a pungent metallic scent — sharp and cutting with an underlying sense of death. You just knew. And perhaps that was what made the true difference to people between fake blood and real blood — they both looked the same and could have the same texture, but scent was something else entirely. As was taste.
As she entered the open hotel room, the first thing she noticed were the letters on the wall that greeted her.
HANGMAN.
The word was painted in red, and the dripping had probably dried overnight. But that didn't stop the word from giving a chilling effect. It seemed…frightening. No, not quite frightening, but haunting.
Then, as she stepped further into the room, she noticed the body of a half-naked woman hanging from the ceiling beside that very wall. There was something carved into the woman's stomach.
YOU LOSE.
Dry blood was left crusted at the edge of the gaping carved letters. And that's when Momoko realised that the word 'Hangman' on the wall wasn't written in red paint. It was the woman's blood.
Even Kaoru, who stood beside her, looked a little pale. "Now that's just sick," she muttered.
"A twisted game from a twisted mind," mumbled Momoko, swallowing down the bile that threatened to rise up her throat. "Start taking pictures for evidence. Professor said we wouldn't get another chance to come in here. And, besides, the investigation team has yet to arrive. It would be better to take pictures before they get here and move things around. We can check them later with more time."
Kaoru nodded and knelt down with a DSLR camera in her hand.
As the camera flashed multiple times and Kaoru moved around the room, Momoko watched the woman's body that was still hanging suspended in the air. A thick bristly rope was tied around her neck, and her eyes were wide open. The eyeballs had rolled back into her head and Momoko could only make out the whiteness of the sclera. Dried frothy drool tinged with blood trailed from the side of her lips.
Momoko wasn't exactly sure if the woman had died of asphyxia or was carved while she was still alive and then hung. She hoped it was the former but somehow knew that the woman had suffered a lot of pain before being hung.
Another flash dazzled her eyes for a second when she looked Kaoru's way.
"Sorry," said Kaoru.
Momoko shook her head. "No, it's fine. Keep going." She moved out of the way to give Kaoru more space.
"This is really creepy," muttered Kaoru under her breath.
Momoko turned her head and gave a wry smile. "You just noticed?"
"No, I mean this whole massacre thing that's been going on. It's… Well, it's just alarming, don't you think? I mean, the city's been so quiet so far and… Well, suddenly this happens."
Momoko nodded. "I know what you mean. It's a bit too sudden."
"And a bit too suspicious. I mean, what's this guy's game? Why is he only targeting redhead females?"
"The perpetrator could also be a female. There's no evidence of what gender this person is yet. No sex offences, just sick twisted ways of killing."
"Well, the earlier we — or the police — figure it out and catch this bastard, the better. I'm running out of excuses in why I have to go home halfway through a cross country team practise or why I have to get up so early in the mornings and skip breakfast."
Momoko grinned. "Your family notices when you leave the house?"
"Not my family, just my mother. I swear, she probably sleeps wide awake or something," grumbled Kaoru. "I walk across the landing quietly just to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, and immediately she pounces on me, accusing me of trying to sneak out for a secret midnight rendezvous."
Momoko chuckled. "I find that hard to believe. You don't strike me as the secret midnight rendezvous type."
Kaoru snorted. "Try telling her that. I'm pretty sure she's an insomniac. Not even a light sleeper. There's just no way someone can catch on to every single muted sound in their sleep. There's just no way."
"Your mum's really nice, you know."
"Oh, I know. But keeping such a big secret from her is hard enough as it is without me lying to her. And you know problematic that is…" she muttered, once again kneeling down to take more photographs.
"Because you're such a bad liar?"
"I'm not that bad…"
Momoko rolled her eyes. "I'm sure. Now, come on. Let's get this over with. We have to go to school soon."
"Oh, which reminds me. What was up with that yesterday?"
Momoko suddenly froze. Had she been caught? Did Kaoru know she went to talk to Mojo Jojo yesterday?
"What do you mean?" she said, keeping her voice calm.
Kaoru turned to face her. "I mean what happened in the assembly hall yesterday? I came in late to school, so I wasn't able to go in."
Momoko inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. And here she thought that she'd been caught out. And then she felt immense guilt for keeping it a secret from Kaoru. The two worked side-by-side each other; and here she was, sleuthing around behind her two friends' backs.
"Oh, just a road safety talk," said Momoko, contemplating in whether she should tell Kaoru the truth about the address or not.
"Was it interesting?"
But then there would be too many questions…
"Yeah, it was pretty graphic. But it was effective and sure got the message across."
Momoko decided not to tell.
—•— Saturday, 30 November (10:47am) —•—
Sakurako watched Momoko for a minute before finally saying, "Okay, I'll take over. But you deserve a break now, Momoko. You've been working very hard this morning."
Momoko shook her head, still whisking the egg whites in the bowl. "No, no. I'm fine." Then she paused her whisking to yawn.
Sakurako rolled her eyes. "You're tired. Honestly, Momoko. Just take a break for fifteen minutes, I'll finish off the meringues."
"Are you sure? I can handle it myself just fine."
"I'm sure. Go on."
Just then, they heard the shop's bell tinkle as a man walked through the door.
Sakurako smiled. "Hey, Souichiro. Have you come back to help out?"
He grinned. "Of course. Why wouldn't I? It's practically my weekend regime."
"I feel bad for making you work when I'm not even paying you."
He rolled his eyes. "Nonsense. I'm doing this because I want to. And I already have my own job during the weekdays, thank you very much. Besides, you're my girlfriend. What I wouldn't do for you if I could cross the ocean just for you."
"You liar!" she teased. "You got that out of a movie!"
"So? I can't quote the truth?"
She laughed and said, "You're going to have to come up with your own cliché love lines."
He gave a mock bow. "Anything for you, my dear." He stood up and then noticed Momoko who was cleaning her hands at the sink. "Hey, Momoko. And how are you this fine morning?"
Momoko turned and grinned. "Absolutely grand, my kind sir."
"And that positivity is exactly the reason why I keep coming back to this shop."
Sakurako put her hands on her hips in mock offence. "So you don't come back for my confectioneries?"
Souichiro grinned. "Well, your confectioneries are simply delightful, m'lady. But positivity in such a peaceful shop is what really pulls me back."
"How poetic."
"Indeed."
Sakurako was about to say something else when she suddenly noticed that Momoko was still working quietly behind her. "Hey! I told you to take a break!"
Momoko quickly dropped the whisk back into the bowl and stepped away, holding her hands up in defence. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm taking a break, okay?"
Souichiro laughed and said to his girlfriend, "You're too nice of a boss. Momoko needs someone who runs a tight schedule."
"Momoko needs someone who owns a sweet shop," called Momoko from the staff's room.
"Hm, touché."
Sakurako rolled her eyes. "I thought you came here to help out. Not to bother us."
"I don't bother you. I merely make life more entertaining." He paused. "Which reminds me… Momoko, I found a small parcel inside the shop's post box. It has your name on it and the shop's address on it, but no sender details."
Momoko came back from the staff's room looking confused. "What?"
Sakurako raised an eyebrow at Momoko. "It's not a secret admirer, is it?"
Momoko frowned. "No, of course not."
But who would send her a parcel to the shop's address? Why not her own house? And, besides, she hadn't been expecting any deliveries. She hardly ever received mails.
"Hello? Momoko? Anybody there?" joked Souichiro.
"Uh, yeah." She took the parcel from his offered hand. "Thanks."
"Are you going to open it?" he asked.
Sakurako poked him in the ribs. "Don't be so nosy! It's her parcel. She can open it whenever she wants."
"No, it's okay. I'll open it now if you want. I actually wasn't expecting anything so I don't know what it is."
"And if it's a detonator, then at least we go down together," he quipped.
Sakurako glared at him. "Stop bullying the poor girl."
While the couple playfully bickered, Momoko stared at the parcel in her hands. It was small and wrapped in plain brown paper. Nothing special — just her name and the shop's address as Souichiro had said.
She set it on the counter and carefully unwrapped it to reveal a brown box. She regarded it for a moment, wondering what was inside. Giving into her curiosity, she gently peeled the tape off the box and opened the lid.
By now, the couple had stopped talking and were looking at what was inside the box.
"A pocket watch?" said Sakurako.
She was right.
Inside the box, within the crumpled white tissue paper lay an antique steampunk-styled pocket watch.
The three had a right to look so perplexed by the sight.
"Wow, Momoko," said Souichiro. "You sure have a weird secret admirer."
Sakurako raised an eyebrow at her. "I'd normally be nice, but I have to agree with him. You do have a weird secret admirer."
"I don't have a secret admirer," said Momoko, shutting the box, simultaneously breaking the enchanted ambience that had previously enthralled them.
Sakurako apologised. "Alright, it's time to get back to work."
Momoko put the box into the staff room and made sure to take it home with her when she finished work.
—•— Sunday, 1 December (1:52am) —•—
Before Momoko went to sleep that night, she opened up the box and took a look at the pocket watch again.
The detail on the cover was exquisite and resembled an elegantly designed spider web or, a more accurate analogy, the inside of a hypnotising geometric dome of a mosque. And she would've said so if it hadn't been for the obvious touch of steampunk which included the two metallic clockwork gears at the front of the cover, and not to mention the essence it had of being used to the point of where many parts of the shiny gold finish had dulled to a blunt bronze.
She traced her fingers over the design and felt its bumpy ridges before finally opening the pocket watch.
The inside was more beautiful than the cover as the middle was made of clear glass and gave an intimate view of the clockwork that was ticking behind it.
She would've went further to marvel at the piece if it hadn't been for the most peculiar thing.
"What the…"
The time. It was wrong. It was all wrong.
No, not the time, per se. But the clock. The clock was wrong. Instead of the clock presenting the numbers one to twelve, it went from ten to one-hundred-and-twenty. And not only that, she noticed that the hand wasn't turning clockwise, but rather anti-clockwise. Almost like a timer…
But to what? she wondered.
She didn't know whether the numbers represented seconds, minutes, hours or even days.
And, more importantly, she didn't know who had even sent this to her. And that gave all the more reason to be wary of the device.
She considered telling the Professor about this, but what if she was just being paranoid? This could just as easily have been sent to the wrong person.
With my name? And with the address of where I work?
Or it could've been a practical joke.
But there's no one I know that would pull something like this. This isn't even a joke. This is just…strange.
She decided to think about it tomorrow after she'd slept and so put the pocket watch back into the box and stored it in the top drawer of her bedside table. Taking one last look around the room, she finally turned off the lamp beside her and headed off to bed.
AN: This story… Where do I even begin? Quite frankly, I don't even know which rating to put it under. It's not quite a 'T' (I mean, you just read that, right?) and it's still not an 'M' either (at least, not in my opinion). So I'm putting it under a 'T', but I am telling you right now that it is technically a 'T/M' rating.
I spent a long time debating whether I wanted anything to do with this story or if I would just let my notes sit on my desk and decay. Finally, after realising that I spent a lot of time simply thinking about this, I would go ahead with writing it out.
Now, I'm not going to bore you with the petty details. I'd like to know what you think about this chapter. So…review? :)
Published: 11.05.2014