Author's Note: I am new to writing about InuYasha so please bear with me. This is an Alternate Universe story, so everyone will be out of character. I don't speak Japanese so this is placed in America. Sorry for the oddity. Last thing I promise, for most of the story I'll refer to everyone's favorite half demon as "Yasha" since I think it'd be odd for a human to be named "dog".
Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha, which was created by Rumiko Takahashi. I am making no money, and in fact I am all but broke. Please do not sue as no profit of any kind comes from this work.
Blood on the PavementBy: Anna Icedragon DeMarco
Loud music blared from the stereo speakers in the dark room. Most of the objects in the room were black or red and no lights were on, save the small desk lamp. A young man sat at the desk, he seemed to be strictly intent on the paper before him. The loud rock music continued to float about the room with out notice. Long dark hair hung around his shoulders and he seemed to be almost asleep..
A phone ringing pierced the silence, still not grabbing the young man's attention. He sat, staring at the blank paper, even as the answering machine picked up.
"If you called me, you know who I am. Leave a message already!" The machine said.
"Yasha, man you really need to get down here. This is bad and they want us all in." There was a pause. "I know this is going to sound odd, but someone just shot the whole place up. All the guards on duty are dead.. Who the hell comes into a museum with guns blazing anyway?"
The caller hung up and the sound of the music was all that was heard in the room as Yasha stared at the phone. He paused a moment, brown eyes focusing onto the blinking red light of the machine.
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Police swarmed over the property of the private museum. The scene could easily have come from a dark horror movie, shells from bullets littered the ground and blood was all over the pavement and grass from the bodies of dead guards. As Yasha slowly walked around the scene, eyes taking in the calk out lines and the coroner van which was leaving. The outside had apparently been cleared and now they were at work collecting pictures and evidence inside.
"Yasha, over here kid!" Yelled one of his supervisors. As he approached the man he noticed a police detective next to him. "The detective wants needs you to take a look at something, follow him inside please." The older man seemed to be skipping over something.
Yasha nodded to the detective and followed him inside the building. They carefully made their way through the bloodied floors and ruined showcases. As they came closer to the main surveillance room the blood seemed to grow heavier.
"You worked a day time shift today, is that correct Mr. Yasha?" The man asked him quietly as they approached the room. "Is that normal?"
"No, I took a friends shift." Yasha answered, his brown eyes becoming suspicious.
No more words were exchanged as they entered the room, stopping just inside the door as the CSI team continued their work. Two bodies lay in the middle of the floor, and Yasha now understood why he'd been asked to come in here.. They needed someone to identify one of the bodies. The detective said nothing, only watched his face closely, allowing him his own thoughts.
"Her name is Kagome." Yasha slowly spoke. He tore his eyes from the body to focus on the face of the detective. "Her family lives in Japan, she was going to college here."
"Hm." The man rubbed his chin and regarded the younger man. "What was your relationship to her?"
"We were dating." Yasha seemed abet disgruntled at the question. He looked back again and seemed to have an odd mixture of anger and regret written across his face.
"Don't suppose you know how to contact her family?" When the detective got no answer he shook his head. "Of course, guess I get to call INS and see if they can pull up any information. Look, give her name and age to the officer outside, along with your number and then you're free to go kid."
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In short order the bloody grounds were cleaned. By sunrise the crime scene was cleared and the police had left. It was odd how fast it all progressed. The place was attacked at 2330, an alarm triggered to alert the police. A squad car arrived at 0001 expecting the guards to have a few vandals for them, however the scene out side told them that wasn't the case. They radioed for a SWAT unit that arrived at 0023 to find the patrolmen staring at then blood scene before them. They determined that no one was left inside, the coroner and CSI unit were called in at 0054.
'And by 0605 it is all being cleaned up.' Yasha thought grimly as he observed a private cleaning crew at work. One young man, about his own age, seemed ready to vomit at the sight of so much blood. The whole thing seemed entirely too fast, weren't crime scenes usually preserved? 'Something isn't right with any of this. Kagome got caught in it all, which was my fault. But, what in the hell is going on here?'
Though the whole thing was still sinking into his mind, Yasha had to wonder at how quickly the crew cleaned up. He'd been told that they were trained to take care of hazardous waste and other heavy jobs. This left him wondering how much call they could possibly have for such a cleaning service and if it was all completely legal. After a time he no longer cared, he merely watched because it was his job. The cleaning teams continued their morbid work, it wasn't like any evidence was left. Soon as the teams progressed inside the building a new group arrived to catalog everything, to see what had been taken or destroyed.
'The rich have to preserve what they own.' He thought with mild disgust. He'd been informed that no one on the guard staff was to leave until all the teams had finished. As if the cleaning crews could cause more damage, as it was somewhere near 35 bodies were in the morgue thanks to the strange attack. The sprawling museum was sure to be assaulted by ghost stories until the day it closed it's doors.
The thing that truly bothered Yasha was this, no one had noticed anything missing, and if this were just for the destruction of private property, why go as far as to kill those in the surveillance room. The only items listed missing from that room were three of the six surveillance tapes. Why only those three? And why was it that they did not destroy any equipment in the room.
'That patrolman said that the shooting inside that room, and a few others, seemed very accurate.' Yasha glanced down at his own side arm, thinking back on hours spent on a range to improve his aim. He wondered if he'd have the skill to kill two people with out hitting any equipment. 'Even close range shouldn't the bullets have passed through them into the monitors and recording devices?'
As the time passed his thoughts became increasingly troubled. He knew that the questions were things best left to the local police, but they ate at him. He couldn't help to wonder why such a thing had taken place, why it'd been so important for them to kill all the witnesses, where those three tapes had gone, none of it made any sense to him. He took his turn at the rounds outside, taking the rural surrounding of the museum.
The Carson Historical and Art museum belonged to a rich businessman. He'd acquired two museums and their collection as they were going bankrupt, at which time he'd decided to build a new home for the collections and sell both buildings. He bought a large chunk of land in northern Organ, on which the new complex was constructed. The building was state of the art, even the built in security systems were the best money could buy. He than hired a small army of security officers, roughly 100, and paid for their training and retraining. A twenty-four hour guard was scheduled, with thirty or more at night, and fifty to seventy-five during business hours.
'Until last night nothing ever happened.' Yasha thought with a grimace as came full circle of the outside parameter. Nothing had changed aside from his supervisor waiting outside.
"Yasha! The clean up crew is almost done." He looked carefully at his watch. "It's only about 1330, they worked fairly fast. It will be a time before we can open shop again so we're going to maintain minimum guard shifts. We broke it down into groups of ten. Only seven groups left really, you're with bravo group. Got it so far?"
Yasha nodded and listened as he was told to report back at "zero hour". It was a joking terms the guards often used to refer to midnight. After it was all settled on when he was to return, he left. Driving down the small country road only made his mind turn back again to the events of the night.
'What could the have gained from that?'
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AN: This idea hit me and was typed up the same night. If it gets enough reviews I'll continue it. Any ideas or comments are more than welcome. Please no flames, only polite comments.