Disclaimers: All the usual disclaimers apply. Characters are unfortunately not mine, but the storyline is. Please don't sue a poor student...
Author's Notes: Hello! Here's a story from Heero's point of view. During the course of writing, I'll probably go back to earlier chapters to rewrite and edit, just in case it feels like things aren't consistent, or the narrative 'voice' isn't consistent. I'll post up all the changes in my profile page. I hope you bear with it and since I'm fairly new in the GW fan writing department (no, not an author by any stretch of the imagination, unfortunately…), any help or pointers would be much appreciated. Thanks again and hope you enjoy this.
Oh, and I rewrote major parts of this first chapter. I thought maybe it was too bland before? Uh, yeah…and now, back to your regularly scheduled program…
Anomalous (Part I)
What makes the fool a fool and the wise man wise? I always thought I could differentiate one from the other, having lived longer and experienced more than the average lifespan would allow. I didn't know how wrong I could be until I found myself questioning everything I had ever learned, and doubting the ones who loved me most.
I don't know exactly when it started, but it was definitely after I had been transformed into what humans like to call a 'vampire', a most erroneous name, since most of the things myths and B-movies portray don't apply to us.
I'm not saying we're invincible just because we can walk around during the day and can eat the same food as humans do. It certainly doesn't take a stake to kill us, though we've been known to survive quite a few tragedies because of our enhanced healing skills. Think Wolverine from the X-Men universe, sans the nifty titanium exoskeleton. Come on, you know exactly what I'm talking about.
So yes, a 'vampire' is what I am. It's not as glamorous as people make it out to be. Oh, we have vampire politics as gritty as any mafia scene, but after all the bullets have zipped through the screen in slow-mo, and after guys in black penguin suits have been thrown across the room in physics-defying grandioso style, what's left is dead bodies. And I've had enough of dead bodies to last me one hundred lifetimes.
But I digress. It's something I'm prone to do because frankly, I have all the time in the world. Perhaps that's a little conceited of me to think so, but you know what they say: "never judge a man until you've walked two moons in his moccasins"(1).
Hence, walk awhile with me. Learn who I am and what weaknesses lie beneath my skin. My story doesn't start with my birth. Those memories elude me, and the man I was before my transformation no longer exists. It begins with a phone call.
>>>>>
Several hours passed midnight I was about ready to crash—my head hurt that much—when Christiaan Burattini (2) called from the coroner's office. He was our liaison between the human world and our own for all criminal-related activities, and ensured that the humans stayed oblivious to our existence. Whether that included changing evidence or "accidentally" erasing files, he was our main source of anonymity in a world that's become too dangerous for our kind.
Don't get me wrong; there were a lot of us who walked the streets as 'real' people with identities in government databanks, but the majority of us didn't exist on paper. Burattini and I played the roles of an officer and a student, though we were more than what was written on citizenship cards and electronic documents.
I watched smoke tendrils drift toward the red exit light from Burattini's cigarette. He was a chain smoker; you could tell from his yellowed nails and the way he held his cigarette expertly between his fingers. It was an art form he'd perfected over the years, puffing out hazy creatures into the air like a stage magician.
Another one of our people had been found dead in the park. Including tonight's killing, that was four deaths in three weeks. This was either a case of really bad luck, or there was someone systematically taking our kind out. The question was who, and why?
Burattini puffed another apparition into the pre-dawn air and drew an envelope from the folds of his trench coat. It was a copy of the autopsy report done by one of our people.
Though the body was found by a human walking his dog at night, only our people followed through with taking the corpse away and filing the official report. All this was accomplished through expert tapping of communication lines, but a little mind and memory manipulation went a long way too.
"I included the other three reports so you can compare. Me and the boys think there might be two different killers." He paused to take another drag on his hourly fix. I watched the smoke ring his head like misplaced haloes. "Even though all of them were killed with firearms," he continued, a fierce light suddenly in his eyes, "this autopsy shows evidence of a double tap."
The infamous double tap. No wonder Burattini's eyes glowed. Even after all these years, he still hasn't perfected the technique. I only knew one person who could shoot two bullets landing a hair's breadth from one another on the target, but he couldn't have been at the scene of the crime because he was on duty tonight at one of Julian's meetings.
"Joe thinks the same type of silencer was used for all four crimes," he paused, taking out a small piece of paper from his pocket. "Here, this is Joe's phone number if you need more info. After you check out those reports, he wants to run a theory by you. And get some sleep Heero. You look like shit."
No kidding. I had a midterm the next day and spent most of the night studying. I felt information leaking out of my ears as the hours passed.
He finished his cigarette and pushed the ends of the butt to the bricks of the station's back alley wall before finally letting it fall to the ground. His straw hair, washed red from the light, stood out in odd angles that complemented his sharp face and beaky nose. His eyes were narrowed, though there was a faint smirk on his lips.
"There's only one consolation to tonight's killing. That idiot, Alex Mueller, is finally dead."
I hummed in agreement, but inside, I became tense. Alex Mueller had many enemies, which made the task of finding the killer (or killers) more difficult.
After meeting with Burattini, I headed back toward my house and thought more about Mueller. He had been a thorn in everyone's side since the day he came to our city from out of nowhere. He was probably kicked out from his last city for being a jerk of the finest degree.
He was a damn gorgeous guy, and to everyone's dismay, he knew it and flaunted it. Not only that, but he liked transforming people. In Julian's city, transformations weren't forbidden per se, but there was a rule that you had to be responsible for every transformation you made.
Unfortunately, he did take care of his transformations, but they turned out to be Mueller-worshipping dolls, annoying in the same way that flies and mosquitoes are annoying: even if you swat one of them down, they keep coming back, and in greater numbers.
After this recent report, I thought that maybe someone had finally ordered a hit on the fool, but that left the other three murders unaccounted for. My head had been clearing up, but now I really wanted to go to bed. It's not like murders among our kind were rare; it was just that lately, it had been pretty peaceful. I guess I had just gotten used to the quiet.
Streetcars screeched past, sometimes failing to stop if they were even slightly full. I shook my head. I had given up on public transportation a long time ago, giving in to the urge to buy my own car. I'd kind of wanted one ever since Karl Benz came out with the first internal combustion engine. But that was a long time ago, and cars have come a long way since.
There's a 24-hour pizzeria close to where I live. They have the greatest pizza there. During the day, I often passed by just to catch a whiff of the cheese. The owner was an Italian lady named Luiza who lived with her son above the pizzeria. We've gotten to know each other very well since I've been attending the local university. I grinned when I saw the light flicker on in one of the second floor rooms. Jorge and I were in the same class, and unlike me, was trying to get a few more hours of studying before the midterm.
When I got back to the house, it was complete pandemonium. There were penguin suits running all over the place, holding batons like Neanderthals and chasing after the Terrible Three from Richmond Hill. I could see Anax on the stair banister, her arms folded and a look of annoyance crossing her features every so often. Sensing my presence, she turned to look at me, her face relaxing.
Gliding towards me and somehow managing to avoid the traffic, she took my hand and raised it to her slightly smirking lips.
"As you can see, this house falls apart when you are gone, Heero, even if only for a little while."
"Yes, I can see that. What's up?"
She sighed and let go of my hands. "The Terrible Three kidnapped Relena, possibly as a joke, but now they don't know where she is."
A penguin suit ran passed me and I grabbed on to his coattails, spinning him around until we were face to face. His eyes went wide and he stammered, "Hee…heero…" As soon as my name left his lips, the chaos suddenly died down.
"What's going on here?" I asked, my tone neutral. Hopefully I wasn't giving off any threatening vibes, since I really didn't like them being here. In any case, it was always easier to get answers when people thought you weren't angry with them.
The penguin suit visibly calmed, though his shoulders were still tense.
"We came by after the meeting tonight with Julian. We still wanted to talk to him about…something, but he just flew off in a hurry."
Yeah, after Trowa left him, you mean, so you guys could gang up on him here and make him change his mind. What idiots. As if Julian would ever let himself be intimidated by them. Ultimately, Julian had the last say and could out-veto any proposal made by another council member.
Oh, he listened to their ideas, but if they held no merit or weren't feasible, they were tossed out like yesterday's salad. And Julian had no qualms about hurting the prides of his overly-sensitive council members. He would say in a smug voice, "It's good for them. Maybe some of them will actually grow spines, or better yet, acquire some sorely needed brain cells."
I smiled at the memory of Julian's words. The penguin suit misinterpreted my smile, but I saw no reason to enlighten him. Behind me, Anax covered a smirk, knowing exactly what I had been thinking about.
"And it took all of you to discuss this…something with Julian?" I asked, by now thoroughly amused and annoyed.
The guy flushed and backed up a step when one of the older council members tapped him on the shoulder. He towered over me like a schoolyard bully.
"Listen Heero," he sneered my name like it was something distasteful and continued with a haughty voice, "don't act smart with me. You're not even part of the council. I could crush you like this." He pounded his fist on the palm of his other hand, the fat making a loud smacking noise. He probably could, but not before I extracted his heart first. His bravado was for show; he knew exactly how empty his threats were.
I turned to Anax and completely ignored him, feeling his rage seethe and not being able to have an outlet until later. I was sorry for the fool who encountered him in this condition. Honestly, where did Julian find these guys? Oh yeah, he didn't. The whole council was a joke. After all, it was amusing to watch puppets play at acquiring power.
I sighed and rubbed the space between my eyes. I really needed to sleep.
"Okay, so where does the whole running-around-the-house-like-idiots part come in?" I asked one of the other penguins who had come closer. I knew him to be the only rational and worthy member of the council. I was surprised he was part of this group.
"Andrel," I acknowledged.
One side of his mouth lifted before he schooled his features again. It was a habit he could never get rid of. Me too.
"We were assailed by the boys when coming out of your house. We thought it was an attack, and when someone realized it was just the Terrible Three, all hell broke loose. Everyone was just so mad, and all the while they kept screaming that Relena is missing."
Andrel pushed the blonde hair from his face. He looked like he could use some sleep too. I could imagine just how long and drawn out the meeting had been.
Meanwhile, Anax pushed the rest of the idiots out of the house, leaving behind Andrel and the Terrible Three, who were trying to look everywhere but at me. I sighed. This was going to be a long session.
"Okay, can we sit in the parlour?"
Once we were settled, I turned to the Terrible Three with a neutral face. Andrel stood close to the fireplace, his face turned away from me and staring into the fire.
"What happened to Relena?"
Their unofficial leader, Milliardo, stepped forward from his comrades, his long platinum hair catching light from the fire. He was the only one of them that I knew was no fool, although he sure knew how to play one.
"I decided to kidnap Relena. I drove her to Gino's house to pick them up, telling her to stay in the car, but when we got back, both Relena and the car were gone." Worry lines creased his forehead. "I know I locked the doors, so it couldn't have been some random stranger, though I'm sure she could have taken care of herself if that had been the case."
"Okay, so she drove off with your car?"
"Errr…no. She couldn't have because I took the keys with me. And I highly doubt Relena knows how to hot-wire a car." There was a slight lift to his worried face that fell as he continued. "I'm sorry Heero. I take all the blame for this. These guys, they just followed along. You know how it is."
I had to give the guy credit. He knew his mistakes and admitted them, though just because he stood up for his friends, I had no doubt that when he asked blame to be put on himself, he probably deserved it. The other two didn't have enough brain cells between them to constitute coherent thought or planning. I don't even know why he kept them around him when it was obvious Milliardo was smart enough to become more than a random nuisance.
I dismissed his last words with a wave of my hand. I wasn't interested in laying blame. What could I do? Kill them? There was enough blood on my hands. I just wanted to know where she was now, although I was also curious as to why Milliardo wanted to steal Relena away.
I asked him and he tried very hard not to blush. "I…uh…just wanted to talk to her," he said, sticking out his chin at the last minute as if daring me to challenge his statement. There was still a hint of red on his cheeks. Interesting.
I looked at Anax through the side of my eyes. She was taking a sip of merlot by the parlour's small bar, her left eyebrow lifted in amusement as she watched Milliardo.
"I have a tracking device on my car. We didn't just, you know, panic and run to your place. We couldn't pick up a trace though."
When he saw the smirk on my face, he blushed, asking, "What?"
"You have a tracking device on your car," I stated dryly.
"It's a camaro!" cried one of his cronies.
"You have one on your motorcycle!" Milliardo fired back. True, but I wasn't going to blush about it. It was my baby.
Failing to get a rise out of me, the long-haired man continued with the business at hand. "What are you going to do?"
"Nothing right now. How long ago did this happen? I'm sure it's not long enough to create the panic that you guys seem to induce wherever you go."
"So you don't care that she might be in trouble?" he asked with an edge to his voice.
Of course I do, but he didn't need to know how much I wanted to run for her right now. Especially with the murders happening, I was doubly worried. "Relena can take care of herself for the most part. She may be naïve, but you should give her more credit, Milliardo. She's not a doll."
"No, but she's not a fighter either. What if it's one of your enemies?" He gasped as he said that last word, though I didn't see the point. It wasn't a secret that I had enemies.
"And you would know this how?" I asked him pleasantly, my smile showing my teeth. One of his cronies shivered.
Squaring his shoulders, Milliardo stood up to his full height. "Look, I didn't plan for her to get kidnapped by someone else. I wanted to kidnap her. Not someone else. And no, it wasn't for anything sinister, if that's what you're thinking."
Even though they were rough and troublesome, Relena was safe with the Terrible Three, but alone with Milliardo? I don't know why that scenario made my teeth clench. And no, it wasn't jealousy or any variation thereof.
Besides, Milliardo was hiding something. He was just a little too worried about her safety. And he was really milking the young-and-innocent-fool persona he often wore, even though he's actually older than I by almost half a century.
Anax moved then. I turned to her but she was moving toward Andrel. She touched his left shoulder lightly and he expelled a breath of frustration.
I raised my eyebrow. "Andrel?"
He turned to me—I thought I saw a hint of embarrassment colour his cheeks, but that could have just been a trick of the light—and shrugged, saying, "It's been a really long night."
I had to grin at that. At least one of us was showing his true colours. Even when we were in the war together—I forget now if that was in Somme…or was that with Trowa?—he was always the first one to admit when he was tired, or hungry enough to kill our fellow soldiers. He never did. I admired him for his strength.
I turned back to the Terrible Three. "Okay, you guys can go. I'll ask Burattini to send out a search party if she doesn't come home by 12 o'clock this afternoon. If she shows up before then, give me a call."
Milliardo nodded, probably relieved that I hadn't questioned him further. I really wanted to perform a pull-their-teeth-out style interrogation right now. When it comes to Relena, I admit I can be a little vicious, but then again, only Anax and Julian really know how much I care about that girl. I'd like to keep it that way.
It's enough that most vampires already know she's one of mine, but to actually know that I would do anything to protect her is dangerous.
I rarely transform humans. I hate knowing that I've changed someone beyond his or her control, but I'm not perfect. So it happens, and they don't always hate me.
More often than not, I kill them shortly after; I hate troublesome fools. In Relena's case, although she hung out with the Terrible Three after being transformed, I held back from killing her. I felt guilty because she was so young, and because I know she had enjoyed her life before I came along.
Maybe it was because she was close to the same age as I when I was transformed that I felt a greater affinity for her situation.
After they left, Andrel let out another huge breath. "What a night, huh?"
"Yes, a night without some Terrible Three fiasco occurring is when pigs fly," I said, "And coupled with council politics, this night…hmm…morning now, I guess, is really turning out to be magical."
"Simply magical," Anax parroted, a quirk on her lips.
"Okay, so what's up with the council?" I know we were all tired, but I wanted to know what was so important to the council that they wanted to squash Julian into submission.
"You know we've had some recent "visitors" from Chicago, right?"
Anax snorted. "More like squatters."
I nodded for him to continue.
"Well, there are some council members who think they might be responsible for the recent murders. I mean, it seems likely. We haven't had this kind of panic for awhile now, and as soon as they come in, bang! Just like that, we have murders and even more crap happening than usual."
"And they haven't even announced their presence to Julian yet," I stated. Newcomers to a city are always obliged to seek out the city leader and announce their presence.
"That too," he continued, "and I've heard rumours that they've actually been here longer than a month…that they've been hiding out for awhile. Maybe they're just bragging, but if it's true…" He trailed off, all of us knowing exactly what that meant.
Their move sans permission could be interpreted as an act of infiltration, or as crossing the Rubicon (3). I didn't want to jump to conclusions just yet, but it's always a good idea to be prepared for the worst.
The Chicago vampires were rounded up by Burattini's people and Chicago's leader was contacted to inquire about the move. That was less than a month ago but we haven't had word since. I knew Julian was pissed, but he had other things to worry about.
"And Theo Wendell's been talking to some of the Chicago vamps. They told him there's been a recent change in the social hierarchy, and that a new leader's taken the throne, so to speak."
"Is that why they left?" Anax asked.
"Don't know. In any case, the council wants them gone, but Julian's given them his protection. For now, at least. I have no idea why, especially since they're causing more trouble than they're worth."
I pursed my lips. "But no one's actually proven that they have anything to do with our recent troubles, right?"
"That's true, but come on. Put two and two together Heero. It's obvious that their presence here is linked with everything that's been happening recently. I bet they had something to do with the earthquake too!"
That was just a fish in the air, and I told him so. He flushed but backed down. Even vampires weren't powerful enough to conjure an earthquake.
Toronto wasn't known as an earthquake-prone zone, but there you have it. We just had a recent earthquake. Nothing spectacular like the ones in Japan—it was a 5.0 on the Richter scale—but it was enough to rattle the dishes and cause wall joints to show cracks. It was both surprising and disturbing.
We weren't situated on a major fault line, but scientists in the news said there was a normal fault line along the Rouge Valley in metropolitan Toronto. In fact, about three or four earthquakes occur everyday. We just can't detect them.
In any case, they claimed that we would never necessarily have to worry the way they do in other more vulnerable areas. I still wanted to equip all our buildings with flexible steel just in case.
"So that's it? They just want permission to off our Chicago visitors?" I asked. Julian knows that doing so might incur a backlash, and we still haven't heard word from Chicago about their status. If they're exiled, then we can do whatever we want with them. Otherwise, they're off limits. "Right now, they're just insulting Julian by not coming to him, but technically, they're still protected by their city."
"Why haven't we gotten rid of extraterritorialism?" he asked with a huff.
"So you think we should get rid of those troublemakers too?"
"Yes. Don't you? I thought for sure that if anyone would want them gone, it would be you." He folded his arms and looked at me with his left eyebrow raised.
I sighed. "Yes, well, it's one thing to want them gone and another to totally exterminate them. Besides, they might be causing trouble now, but watch how much trouble leaders can cause one another if they get riled up."
Andrel chuckled. "Yes, I know how powerful Julian can be. And we still don't know what kind of powers the new leader in Chicago has, especially if he, or she, murdered the old one."
"Is that what happened?"
"Naw…just rumours, I think. Besides, wouldn't they have a tribunal then? I mean, if a leader was murdered?"
"That hasn't happened in awhile. Not enough powerful vampires around, that's why," interjected Anax.
"Yeah, who are the top dogs these days anyway?" Andrel asked with a tilt of his head toward Anax.
By this time, I really wanted to end our discussion. I knew enough to get me through the day, although I was debating whether I should try and find Relena myself. I told them we should get some shut eye.
"What about Relena," he asked before leaving. "What are you going to do about her?"
"Nothing for now. As I said before, she can take care of herself. If she hasn't turned up by tomorrow, I might have to do a little investigating myself."
He nodded, though there was something in his eyes I couldn't describe. "Alright, well, if I hear anything, I'll give you a shout. Goodnight. Uh, good luck. It's your exams today right?"
"No, just a midterm." It wasn't such a big deal. I had eternity to learn this stuff, or I could learn on my own, but I wanted to interact with humans. There was a time when doing the opposite led to terrible consequences.
He turned to Anax in quiet laughter. "Just a midterm he says! Man, I still don't know how you can stand those professors Heero. And the students! So intense!" He walked out into the early morning still chuckling.
After I closed the door, I leaned myself on its frame for a moment to catch my bearings. Anax touched my shoulder lightly.
"You're not going back out there to look for her." There was an undercurrent of command in her voice.
I still had to look at those autopsy reports, call Burattini and maybe even study a bit. How was I going to pull off a decent grade with this lifestyle? Honestly.
"Let me just call Trowa," I said, resigning myself to sleep afterwards. Trowa would take care of things.
I flipped my cell phone and dialed his number.
His clear voice answered on the other line: "Trowa."
He didn't even sound sleepy. Lucky guy. "Can you do a little discrete Relena-hunting for me?"
I could just imagine the quirk of his eyebrows, but he said, "Sure."
He hung up after that. Conversations with Trowa tended to be on the succinct side, which was fine by me. I preferred them to be like that, but eloquence and elaboration was usually required for the majority of people I knew. It took me a long time to learn that, but even now, I still reverted to laconic speech.
Anax pulled the phone from my fingers and I resigned myself to being drawn to her room. Finally. I really needed to sleep.
The night was cold for June. I was huddled by the cow my mother called Ushi. She said it meant cow in Japanese. She would sometimes teach words to me, but warned me to keep them to myself. It was dangerous to speak them out loud.
I knew that. We weren't welcome here in the Fraser River Valley. We had a few neighbours who were Japanese, but few people bought our goods outside the Asian community. It was a good thing we were farmers, able to provide most of our needs ourselves, but rampant jealousy coupled with nature's indiscriminate hand made life tougher than it had to be. Still, I was grateful I had mother and the farm. Others were not so lucky.
My mother and I are anomalies. She married an English immigrant named Odin Lowe and gave birth to a half-breed. Me. I can walk on both sides of the fence and still feel like an outcast.
But here in my farm, on this cold night, I felt welcome. Ushi's warmth made me feel warm.
I was falling asleep, lulled by Ushi's breathing, when I heard a noise coming from the farmhouse. My mother was asleep, and she slept so heavily that if a storm had ripped through the valley, she would only discover it in the morning when she woke up amidst a pile of debris.
I left Ushi in the barn, taking a light with me. It could have just been the wind, but I didn't want to take any chances. There were enough angry neighbours that trespassing and sabotage were likely culprits too.
There was a cloying scent in the air that sent me to the ground. The stench was so strong. I wrapped an arm around my belly to keep from hurling and forced myself to go on. I was worried about my mother. When my vision started to black out, I finally forced myself to think that something strange was going on here.
The next thing I knew, I found myself intimately introduced to a cobbled walkway. My face hurt and I thought my nose was broken. I was nowhere near my home. I figured I was either in Vancouver or Victoria, but how did I get here?
I must have been knocked out. I felt the back of my head for bruising but came up with no sign of an attack from behind. Suddenly, I felt deprived of air, and that my innards were being squeezed mercilessly out of my system. After what felt like an eternity of agony, I was back to normal, or as normal as someone who'd just had their breath knocked out of them can be.
"Are you alright?" said a deeply cultured voice beside my fallen figure. I looked up quickly, only then noticing the shoes attached to the tailored suit in front of me. The man held out his hand and I took it clumsily, feeling like a halfwit.
"I'm all right, thank you. Just ran out of breath, is all," I replied, embarrassed.
"Ah. I was on my way home and saw you doubled over. I didn't know what to make of it, so I came over. I'm glad it was nothing sinister. Let me take you to my house…give you a chance to get your breath back. It's very close by, and I'm sure you want a drink."
The last was phrased more like a question, but I couldn't deny him. My house was so far away, and he was being so nice, so I went with him. He was very quiet as we walked to his house, but I felt something very powerful in him, like a well-spring of strength. Or something. It was bubbling up and I felt almost engulfed in it.
It was a heady feeling, and honestly, I don't even remember what road we took or where he led me, but the next thing I knew, we were in a brightly-lit hallway with bronze-coloured chaise lounges hugging the far walls, and a russet carpet extending the length of the room.
I followed him to a door on the right, opposite the chaise lounges; they were huge double doors that opened toward us with hardly a squeak on their hinges. Floors and doors were always creaking and squeaking in the farmhouse.
All of a sudden, there was a babble of voices that instantly died down at the sight of us. I stared at the group of people in front of me as they stared back blank-faced. I could read curiosity and surprise from their auras, and there was also some apprehension there and I wasn't sure why.
In any case, the man, who still hadn't told me his name, led me toward what I believed was the front of the room. I stared in wonder as I passed the people in their beautiful clothing; they were finer and richer than anything my parents or their friends owned.
There was this ballooning feeling in my chest and it wasn't going away. I felt like an intruder in another world, and the more I watched them, the more I came to realize they weren't even human. I panicked and stopped in the middle of the throng, and the man—could I even call him that? —was immediately by my side, holding me steady.
"Who…? Where am I?" I stuttered. It was a wonder that they could understand me because to my ears, I sounded like a confused frog.
The man took both my hands in his and rubbed my arms in a soothing motion. He was being a tad too familiar with me, but even though I felt overwhelmed, all I could sense from him was genuine concern, so I forced myself to relax.
"You're very tired right now, Heero," he said gently, "and it's better if we put you to bed. Everything else will be explained after you've rested."
After that, it was all a blur. I didn't even notice that he had known my name without my enlightening him. I felt my knees weaken and turn into jelly, and then someone, a big burly fellow, approached to take me in his arms.
When I finally came to, I was wrapped in heavy sheets and I felt like a steamed potato. It was so hot. I got up and took in my opulent surroundings. There was old power here, not only because of the apparent wealth of the place, but because the walls themselves were infused with some sort of magic.
The door opened and the man from the night before came in. He was actually shorter than I thought, and I said so. He smiled and took a seat by my bedside, holding a jug of water. After he poured it into a glass, he handed it to me and I took it gladly. It tasted like flavoured water, but I couldn't place what it was.
"I don't suppose we can just pretend that you're a normal young man who simply had too much to drink last night, and found refuge in my house for the night?"
I blinked at him.
"No, I suppose not. You and I both know that there's something else going on here. I always knew there was something special about you. I just didn't expect we'd have to meet sooner than planned."
"Do I…know you?" I asked him, apprehensively. Had he been watching me? And if so, when? I didn't actually go into town that often.
"Heero, what do you think I am?"
I was surprised enough by the question that I answered truthfully: "Certainly not…human."
There was a small smile on his face. "No, not human. But I was once human. A very long time ago." He paused, thinking about his next words, perhaps. "Listen, last night, someone tried to kill you."
I jumped up after hearing this, dropping the cup in the process. I watched in fascination as the liquid spread on the light-coloured sheets. I don't know if it was the light, but the liquid looked almost pink. Looking back up, I thought maybe he wanted to kill me too.
He stood up while I was staring at the mess I'd made and tried to placate me. He didn't understand that I was actually afraid of him, because when he drew near to take my hands, I shrunk back and he was a little surprised.
"I mean you no harm," he said, "and I only mean to help you. I killed the creature that tried to kill you last night."
Despite being a stranger, he was able to calm my nerves. I asked him who would want me killed in the first place. Well, other than jealous neighbours.
"Not who, but what. I'm sure that you of all people know this world is not as black and white as the majority of people see it. There are shades of gray the world over, things unseen that walk the earth."
I sat back down. I couldn't deny his words. Ever since I was little, I had always wondered why no one else could see or feel the things I did, although I learned early on that it was wiser to keep my mouth shut, and ignore the other unpleasant things my gifts brought.
"Why am I like this?" I blurted out. At that moment, I didn't care that I sounded like a small, scared child, but there was only kindness in his eyes, as if he understood where I was coming from.
"There's no simple answer to that. Some people are just born with these gifts. I…there's a story…one day maybe you'll hear it from me…Anyway, I have long known you would be my heir."
"Huh?" Boy, I sounded intelligent. But what did he mean? Was I to become…whatever he was?
He walked to the window and pulled open the curtains. His dark hair blended with the night and I couldn't help but stare at his austere profile against the window. All of a sudden, he whipped around and threw a projectile at my head. His movement was so rapid I didn't even know when he had time to pull it out of wherever it was hidden.
The projectile spun wildly and I moved to press myself against the mattress, but I was too slow and it flew into my forehead. My hands flew up but there was nothing there. There had been no impact. I looked back at the man and the projectile, the knife, was back in his right hand. He was twirling it around as it defied gravity.
His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of power there. It was like the calm before the storm. "There are forces in this world that defy human logic. You were made for me. To be my heir. The creature last night was a wraith, sent to steal you away from me by first taking away your powers, and then by swallowing you whole. It was a good thing I had people following you last night."
If he expected me to be grateful, I didn't give him the satisfaction. My heart was still pounding like a prisoner in a cage, and I was still too riled up over what he had done. He tired of talking to me then—I could see it in his eyes—and walked over to the bed.
He took my face in his hands and drew close enough that I could feel his breath tickling my face. I glared at him in defiance.
"You were chosen because you have abilities that would serve my city well. I don't know if you've ever heard stories of…vampires, but that is what I am."
My eyebrows rose at this. My mother told me stories of the Japanese kasha and compared those to my father's vampire stories. I wouldn't want to be either.
"That is what you are now."
My mouth hung open in disbelief. And then I laughed.
I came to when sunlight filtered through the windows to touch sly fingers on my face and eyelids. I groaned and felt around the bed for Anax. It was empty. I looked toward the dresser where sunlight couldn't reach. She was there pulling a comb through her red hair.
"What time is it?" I asked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
"You have five minutes to make it to your test," she said, grinning.
"What? Are you serious?" I glanced at the clock on her wall and growled my disapproval. "Why didn't you wake me sooner? You know I have this test."
"I'm not your mother Heero. Besides, you have plenty of time to get to class, though…" I waited for her to continue, "Time's a ticking. You now have three minutes and fifty-six seconds."
I growled as I ran around the house getting my stuff together. That evil, evil woman. As I pulled my shoes on by the front door, she came down to hand me my keys and pecked me on the cheek once.
"Don't forget to call Joe about the reports."
"I haven't checked them yet," I said angrily. Stupid sleep. And on top of that, I had to have that memory-dream again. I always had that dream when I was stressed, reminding me what kind of life I had left behind. Or rather, what I was forced to leave behind.
"Do you have them with you?"
I nodded and turned to go. I ran over some chemistry in my head while I ran to class. It was a short run because we lived close to campus. When I got there, everyone was buckled down in their seats and writing furiously. I was only a couple of minutes late. Apologizing to the teaching assistants, I took my paper and sat down to write the test.
Afterward, Jorge cornered me to ask what I put down for question number three.
"Which one was that again?" Honestly, I couldn't even remember. I wrote the test on auto-pilot.
"The one on electro-osmotic flow, man. What governs its magnitude?" He was grinning at me with hope in his eyes.
"Uh, zeta potential, I think. The measurement of cations at the capillary wall. Buffer capacity, applied voltage." I listed the rest of my responses for him and let my mouth speak while my mind wandered.
"Okay great. Thanks Heero. I think I did okay then. Man, I hope I did alright." He grinned and grabbed my arm to pull me to his pizzeria. "You look like you haven't had breakfast. Pizza's on me, okay?"
The bell jingled when we passed through the doors. The pizza smelled great. I waved at Luiza who was busy with another customer, and took a seat by the window. Jorge came after he grabbed a few slices of pizza from the back. He passed some napkins over.
"So, you gonna skip the rest of your classes? You look like you could sleep the sleep of the dead."
"Thanks," I said dryly. I am 'dead', moron. Oops, but he didn't know that. I was just a little cranky. I had so many things to do today, but he was human and required enough of my attention to warrant our being called 'friends'.
"No problem. What are friends for?" He grinned at me with cheese dripping from his lips. "Hey listen, it's Christy's birthday this weekend. I know she mentioned inviting you. Did you want to come? Bring Anax too. Have I mentioned how hot your girlfriend is?"
Jorge was not-so-secretly in love with Anax and brought her into our conversations as much as possible. He knew we just 'lived together'—that we weren't really going out. He wanted me to bring her along to our social outings, but Anax easily got bored with university boys and their parties. There were many broken hearts left in her wake, but she didn't want to hurt Jorge.
In reality, Anax and I weren't dating, per se. When I became Julian's successor-in-waiting, she became my consort. I didn't really want her then, but she got under my skin in more ways than one. I love her, but I'm not in love with her. She was a lover, but mostly she was my friend.
If she wanted Jorge, I wasn't going to go haywire over it. But she didn't, and so I had to tell him gently that she had other plans this weekend.
"You guys are just friends right?" he asked suspiciously, "Just to make sure."
"Yes, we're just friends. And no, Anax is not hot. She's elegant. There's a difference."
He hummed in agreement. "So you can't come to Christy's birthday then?"
"No, I think I want to study. I have an anthro test next week and I'm really behind on the reading." I wasn't that behind, but I did have more important things to do than fraternize with university kids.
"Okay, but next week we're going to get together for that chemistry assignment. Man, I hate these things. Why did I take this class again?" He sighed and continued chewing on his pizza.
After we parted, I decided to skip my one other class after all. I still had to check those reports, and I wanted to talk to Julian. I didn't sense his presence this morning, which means he left again, or he didn't come home at all.
After studying the first three reports, I decided to call Joe. I wanted to confirm my suspicions with him.
:Hey, you've reached me. My hands are tied at the moment. Call back later. Don't even leave a message. It ain't gonna go through.:
Right. That Joe. Always flirting with his coworkers. I shook my head. I studied the last report and winced. The shots were most likely done with a semiautomatic air rifle, which was weird. Double taps were usually done with handguns, but I guess control with rifles was easier than with handguns.
My cell phone rang. It was Joe. He apologized and told me to meet him at his lab, which was in the building next to the coroner's office. When I arrived, he met me for clearance and brought me to the third floor.
"Thanks for coming. I've been doing a lot of research since these murders have been happening. I also want to know what you think." He grabbed some papers from his messy desk and mumbled about bad secretaries.
Muttering a low "Aha!" he finally started filling me in and confirming all my suspicions. "The last murder was done with a semiautomatic air rifle, right? We don't license too many of those here. The only ones available for purchase are the Drulov DU-10 Eagle, the IZH Drozd or the Nightstalker."
He held up a magnified picture of the wound. "The caliber of the Nightstalker matches with the size of the entry and exit wounds. If the killer went for black market material, there's a wide range. But even so, we have access to the network if we need it."
"It's a Nightstalker. That's the only one, even among the illegal rifles, that has a signature ribbing on its bullets. That's what causes the ridges in the exit wound" I explained.
I have one in my arsenal, but it's under lock and key. No one could have gotten into my horde to steal it, but they wouldn't have had to anyway. Nightstalkers were pretty easy to acquire if you had a license.
"Ahh. I thought so. What I don't understand is why the killer would use such an identifiable weapon?" He tapped a finger on his nose and pushed his glasses back up.
"Hn. Well, I guess even if the weapon is easy to recognize, what does that say about the killer? Civilians can't get gun licenses, so that would limit our choice to the police."
"Yeah, if we were amateurs it would." Joe picked up the coffee on his desk to take a long sip. "But I get what you mean. Since the Nightstalker is one of the easier weapons to obtain, legally or otherwise, our killer could be anyone. Well, anyone with the ability to double tap, that is, and how are we supposed to find out a thing like that? Even if we go into firing range files, those won't include private shooters, assassins and other gun freaks."
"What about the first three murders? You said here in your report that these wounds only look like they came from a firearm, right? Why is that? I hope you're not thinking what I think you're thinking."
"Wraiths."
Damn. I thought we had gotten rid of them a long time ago. I asked him if he was sure.
"No, I'm not sure. The last time we heard of a wraith haunting our city was about twenty years ago. I'm not really sure how wraiths work. They don't really have tangible bodies, but I'd hate to think they're like cartoon creatures where, if you cut one down, it's replaced by two replicas."
He laughed suddenly. "Hey, maybe that is their mechanism of survival. I wish I could somehow take a wraith and sample its structure. They look like gooey stuff right?"
I didn't actually know. The wraith that had attacked me the night I was transformed had been pretty invisible to me, but that could have just been because I was still human.
He continued more seriously, "Well, it's not like I can match the wounds with any of the firearms we have data for. That's why I'm going with this theory. Besides, whenever those creatures attack, they always go for the heart. Just like this first killer. I couldn't even find any literature or pictures of our people that have survived a direct covert attack, since the attacks were done in some random obscure place, or they were slashed up to the point of zero recognition."
"Which means we can't even compare it to anything we might have seen before," I stated wearily.
Damn, this royally sucked.
1. From Sharon Creech's "Walk Two Moons". Read it. It's funny and poignant and bittersweet and…all that good schtuff.
2. Christiaan Burattini – his name is a mixture of Christiaan Huyghens and Tito Livio Burattini; the former scientist worked on optics and was fascinated with the principles governing motion, while the latter built relatively complex ornithopters for his era. This guy's name is the only one I'll elaborate on. I'll leave the rest to you guys, if you feel like investigating, although some new characters really do just have random names pulled from my magic hat!
3. The Rubicon was a river in Italy that separated the Romans from the Gauls. When Caesar crossed the Rubicon in 49 CE, it was tantamount to declaring war.
Alright, so this is just the first part of the first chapter. It was getting really long, so I thought I'd cut it into two portions. Anyway, tell me how you like it and I'll try to get the second part of the first chapter out as soon as I can. School might get in the way, but we'll see.
Oh, and if there are serious mistakes in my gun lore, blame it on lack of resources. I tried to look up some information to get a general gist of how it all works, but I'm obviously no expert. If you know better and it irks you to read inaccuracies in my writing, please please please advise me. Thanks again.