Disclaimer:
I do not own the characters associated with this work. It is a work of fanfiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of my imagination (unless otherwise stated) or if real, are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All statements, activities, stunts, descriptions, information and material of any other kind contained herein are included for entertainment purposes only and should not be relied on for accuracy or replicated as they may result in injury.
Be wary of when you step out of your doors at night
There's something on the loose that will give you a fright
She keeps to the shadows and stalks her prey
Fall foul of the law and hunt you she may
Covered from head to toe in the blood of the few
Keep your eye out as the Crimson Death is after you
Silent as a ghost and cold as the grave
She never forgets and hasn't forgave
"And we're back! Thank you once again for joining us this evening. My next guest tonight is leading criminologist Lyndon Franklin, here to explain to us and give us some insight on the recent criminal activity that has been affecting our wonderful city. It's great to have you here this evening Lyndon!" Said the affable late night television show host to her guest. She continued to face him as she awaited a reply.
"Thank you for giving me the time to speak this evening," was Lyndon's curt reply. He adjusted his seating position so he was more comfortable, crossing his legs in a way that is masculine.
"So tell me Lyndon what do you make of the recent drop off in violent criminal activity? What do you attribute it to?" asked the host as she smoothed out her skirt. Her name is Llewellyn Weatherstone and she is the host of the number one rated late night talk show in the city and indeed countrywide, which is composed of a mix of serious and light issues brought on and talked about with a variety of guests each week. No matter what the occasion she was always impeccably dressed and made up so that she was the envy of all the female viewers.
"I think there has definitely been a substantial drop due to a single factor alone and the answer may or may not surprise you depending on where you sit." Her guest, the 3rd of the evening was a man dressed in an expensively tailored Italian suit.
He is an expert in all matters related to criminal activity and recently finished promoting a book countrywide. He regularly lectured in his field and even consulted for numerous law enforcement agencies on cold or otherwise unsolvable cases and had a very high success rate.
Llewellyn leaned forward expectantly, "What would you say that factor would be? The outstanding work of our law enforcement agencies?" She crossed her legs and smiled expectantly, knowing where this was going. She had discussed how she wanted the interview to go with her producers and her guest and loved leading her guests down a path that was likely to raise and maintain viewer interest. They'd promoted the hell out of this interview all week and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to increase her ratings on it.
"I'd put it down to one factor Llewellyn, the Crimson Death." The look of surprise on the face of the host was just good acting, or at least that's what she thought as she wasn't surprised by his answer.
"But isn't the Crimson Death just a myth? A fairytale that we use to scare our children so they don't misbehave? Surely there's a more reasonable explanation in your expert opinion."
He leaned back looking pensive for the briefest of moments, "I don't think so, otherwise I wouldn't have suggested it. Whether or not the Crimson Death is fact or fiction, the fact of the matter is that a pattern has developed." He began to count visibly using his hands as if checking off a list of points.
"All the perpetrators that were slain all had previous criminal convictions. They all were considered quite unfavourably by the public and mass media and they all died bloody deaths in the literal sense of the words." He adjusted his glasses which had slipped down a fraction on his face before continuing.
"Do I think those individuals will be missed? No. Do I think that this has all been committed by one person? Possibly. Do I agree with their methods of justice? No not at all, which is only part of the reason why I'm fascinated by this case."
If there was one thing that Lyndon loved doing the most it was analysing criminal cases. He loved his line of work as it always had the ability to fascinate and surprise him after al the years that he'd been working in the field. He secretly hoped that he could catch the Crimson Death as it would certainly be a boost for his lofty ambitions.
"Many people have applauded the Crimson Death's efforts in removing some of the most dangerous criminals off of our streets. What do you have to say to those people?" Llewellyn liked the direction that this interview was going and she could see the extra zeros being added to her paycheck already as her contract renewal was coming up. Lyndon uncrossed his legs from that position that men have when they are seated in a relaxed manner,
"I'd say that for all the supposed good that this person has done, the manner in which it was achieved should never be condoned. Vigilantism undermines the system of law and justice which binds our society. No one should be judge, jury and executioner all wrapped up into one." He turned directly toward a camera so it would appear that he was looking right into the eyes of the person watching the screen, "No one."
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The shrill noise of the alarm clock beside her bed woke Octavia up as she attempted to hit the snooze button, only managing to knock the clock onto the floor where it still continued to make noise.
"Get up or you'll be late like always O!" Yelled Bellamy Blake, her brother from down the hall. She groaned and rolled out of bed quickly attempting to fix her messy bed hair and rub the sleep out of her eyes. She'd had another late night out prowling the city and it showed when she looked at herself quickly in the mirror.
She jumped into the shower and was out in what seemed like record time. She hastily got dressed and fixed her appearance so that the brunette staring back at her was smiling and presentable for another day's worth of education. Her brown hair framed her face and she was wearing a simple graphic tee and gym shorts.
Despite the seemingly endless compliments she received from guys at school, which infuriated some of the other girls who put more of an effort into how they dressed. Walking into the kitchen she saw her brother leaning against the kitchen counter of their modest 2 bedroom apartment eating a bowl of cereal.
"Morning sunshine! Doing your usually crash and dash?" He asked as he leant back against the kitchen counter and taking a spoonful of cereal into his mouth watching hi sister intently.
The crash and dash was a term Bellamy had come up with for her late nights and quickie breakfasts. The crash being her passing out on her bed after coming in late and the dash being her rush out the door to attempt to avoid being late. Octavia simply nodded and looked at what her brother was wearing,
"Aren't you usually out of the door before I am? You don't look like you're going anywhere anytime soon?" He was still dressed in pants that he'd clearly been wearing to bed and a sloppy t-shirt. His hair was messy as if he had just gotten out of bed, which he probably had.
He rolled his eyes at her words, "You must still be asleep O. I don't have any classes today." He looked at her like he was a puzzle he was trying to figure out, "Is everything alright O?"
Bellamy attended the local college on a scholarship and he was referring to how Octavia had been the last couple of months. He'd noticed that she hadn't been her usual self after a certain event, the death of her boyfriend Lincoln and the trauma and recovery that she'd had to go through as a result of the incident.
She crossed her arms and just smiled shaking her head ruefully, "I'm fine Bell. I wish you'd stop asking me that."
Truthfully though Bellamy had always been good at reading his little sister and she had a brief flash of fear. Fear that he might figure out what she'd been up to. It was important for his safety and hers that he never find out what she was doing of an evening. She slowly began to back out of the kitchen and head for the front door,
"Bye Bell. I'll see you later this afternoon."
Closing the door behind her, Octavia began the short walk to school, Skyfall Central High, which was in fact more of a powerwalk/jog because of the time. She did however; manage to make it through the school gates just as the first bell rung and she made her way to her locker to pick up her stuff for first period English.
She slid into her seat next to her friends Clarke Griffin and Raven Reyes, who acknowledged her arrival with a quick hey and a wave. Both of her friends were accustomed to Octavia's bouts of lateness and as such usually filled her in on any Goss in the first period of the day. The majority of their talk revolved around attempting to sneak into some big party that was being held in one of the most popular nightclubs in the city.
"I've got this friend who can make fake IDs and for a small fee, he could make some for the three of us," said Raven as she looked back and forth between Clarke and Octavia. Raven was the mischievous one out of the three of them and she spent most of the time that she did in detention for some sort of elaborate prank or practical joke. She had multiple piercings in her left ear and was dressed in stylishly ripped jeans, red sneakers and a t-shirt with an ironic message splayed across it.
"I don't know, it'd be hard for me to sneak away," said Clarke, clearly apprehensive about getting herself involved in one of Raven's schemes. She was the sensible one of the group, hard working and excelled at Biology, and it came as no surprise that she wanted to follow in the footsteps of her parents and become a doctor. She was dressed in her sensible style with a crop top with a cardigan and a skater skirt to give off the fun and casual vibe she was going for.
"Come on Clarke there'll be boys, lots and lots of boys!" Raven said as she bumped her shoulder against Clarke's. She knew that she'd just have to keep chipping away at Clarke who was now trying to turn her attention back to what they were supposed to be doing in class.
"What about you Octavia? It seems like forever since we hung out," Raven said this time directing her attention to Octavia. Octavia shrugged and answered in a way that she mostly did nowadays, which was non-committal,
"I'll think about it. I don't have anything planned as of yet on Friday night," she said. Octavia knew though that she most likely wouldn't go, only because Friday night would be spent the way she spent most nights since Lincoln's death, searching for those responsible.
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Later on in the day, was arguably Octavia's favourite class, PE. Lately, the class's teacher, Mr Kane, had been getting the students to run the mile and for his more capable students, several miles as the annual athletic meet between the schools of the city was scheduled to come up soon as was the Skyfall City annual marathon.
He encouraged the more athletically gifted students to enter the event, as it was often a long standing and unofficial tradition that several students from each school would enter and each of the Gym teachers had a discreet wager on the race, with the teacher and school winning by having a student from their school finishing the race before any other student from one of the other schools, like a race inside of a race.
Mr Kane knew of Octavia's athletic ability, he'd seen her rapid rise and improvement but he could never understand her lack of commitment. He knew she was the best prospect the school had for quite some time, but she never pushed herself, always settling in amongst the crowd.
If he wanted to win that wager and have her performance reflect back favourably on his ability to teach, he needed to convince her to take part in this year's event. He thought about all of this and indeed what he'd say as he pulled her aside as the other students continued to sweat it out.
"Blake! Get over here! I need to speak with you for a moment," he called out as he turned and headed further away from potential eavesdroppers not waiting but expecting her to follow. Octavia came jogging over in her running shoes, white athletic tank top and black shorts.
"What's up coach?" She said as she grabbed her electrolyte drink and took a slug of it, watching him and waiting for his reply. He was in an outfit that stereotyped the PE/Gym teacher context in that he was wearing a lightly coloured polo shirt, shorts, had a clipboard in one hand and a whistle around his neck. To top off the look, he was wearing a cap as he was a big believer in sun protection.
"I wanted to speak to you about your level of participation in my class." He paused for a moment considering his next words carefully.
"You're an athlete, there's no doubt about it Blake, but you never apply yourself. You always do just enough if that to get by and that's not good enough from you. Given that I know that this is one of your better and favoured classes, you'll sit out from now on and spend your lunch breaks with me in detention unless we can come to some sort of agreement." He watched as Octavia crossed her arms, a stern look appearing on her face.
"If I'm still doing okay and not failing then what does it matter to you?" Her posture screamed defiance with her shoulders square, legs arm width apart and planted firmly.
He sighed having predicted beforehand that she was most likely going to be difficult about this. His hands dropped to his sides making a loud clap.
"As your teacher, I expect the best from you and of you." He pointed to some of the other students who were running. "You're better than the rest of them. Your athleticism could take you places; get you a scholarship like your brother. I've looked at your grades and they won't be good enough to get you far and this is your best shot."
Octavia sensed that he was probably not going to let this go. It was time to see what his demands were, "So what do I have to do exactly?"
He smiled, "It's really quite simple. I want you to enter the annual marathon and beat all the other students from our school and the other schools that enter." He held up a hand when he could see she was about to protest. "No buts Miss Blake. I as well as you know that you can do it. Do this and I'll leave you alone. Good talk Blake. Now get back to it!"
Octavia was left standing there as he walked off, already yelling at another student to pick up the pace. She walked over to the bench nearby and sat down, taking in a few deep breaths. It was a mildly warm afternoon and the sweat trickled down her face as she thought to herself,
'I'll just do this to get him off my back and then everything can go back to flying under the radar.' She knew that she could use her toned athletic ability to take her places if she put her mind to it, but after Lincoln's death, she didn't think too much about the future that was in store for her. With her head down and pointed at the ground she didn't see Clarke approach,
"Hey O what's up? I saw Kane giving you the 3rd degree," taking a seat next to Octavia and grabbing one of the many water bottles available.
"He wants me to run in the marathon that's coming up. Says he wants me to start applying myself," she said as she looked over at Clarke who had begun untying her running shoes.
"Go for it O, you'll do great!" She clapped her on the back before noticing the faraway look in Octavia's eyes. "He'd want you to keep living you know. He'd want you to be happy even without him."
Octavia got up abruptly and a look of anger was plastered on her face, "Don't you speak to me about what he'd want me to do," she gestured wildly tossing her empty bottle harder than necessary into a bin. "I was happy with him and he was taken away from me. Nothing seems important any more." Glassy eyed and visibly distressed, she took off for the locker room.
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As the water cascaded down from the showerhead, Octavia was pulled back into thinking about Lincoln. This was invariably brought about by what Clarke had said not long ago. How could she talk to me like that? She thought and as she thought it, Clarke's shocked face was at the forefront of her mind as she saw the hurt that had flashed across her friend's face.
Instantly Octavia felt bad about the way she had acted, she was just an absolute jumble of emotions lately, with anything seeming to set her off. She wasn't really mad at Clarke or the world, but more so herself. She felt responsible for Lincoln's death and would do anything to make up for it and as the water continued to run she was taken back to that fateful night.
It had been a particularly frosty night and she was wearing Lincoln's jacket on top of her own as they walked back to his car. They had spent the night out on a cheesy sort of date night in that they grabbed a bite to eat before seeing a movie. It was the latest romcom that had hit the box office and Octavia had dragged him along to see it, even though she knew he probably wouldn't enjoy it, but she gave him points for putting up with her.
They'd been dating for at least 8 months and things were getting pretty serious even if her mom and Bellamy weren't fans of the attention he gave her.
"So what did you think of the movie?" Lincoln asked her as he draped an arm around her shoulders. He had to admit that she looked pretty cute rugged up wearing jeans, a scarf which was blue (her favourite colour) and his long sleeved light brown jacket on top of her red and white striped jacket.
"I thought it was great! Definitely a twist that I didn't see coming," she replied smiling as she looked up at him and snuggling closer to him. She was crazy about him, even more so because he was her first serious boyfriend. He was dressed in jeans, a white polo shirt and black sneakers.
They crossed the street they were on having spotted Lincoln's car and Octavia was already thinking about climbing in and turning on the heat.
She already wanted to spend a good period of the rest of the evening before he dropped her off making out with him in the car. The streetlight nearest his car, which was a classic pickup went out as did the next nearest streetlight. As they approached the car three men stepped out of the shadows, each wearing dark coloured clothes and each with masks covering their faces. Lincoln instantly pushed Octavia behind him, shielding her from view.
Each of the three drew handguns as they continued to walk towards them.
"Are you Lincoln?" The man in the middle asked him, as he came to a halt gun still down at his side.
"There are a lot of people that go by that name. You'll have to be more specific," Lincoln stated showing no signs of fear with his hands forming fists.
"Are you the Lincoln of the UnderGround movement?" He added to his question before continuing, "My colleagues are sure but I always like to check," as if that made any difference.
"Look just take whatever you want. Money, phones just have them and let us go," Octavia said as she stepped from behind Lincoln. The central man gestured with his head and his two partners raised their guns training them on Octavia. She froze midstride as Lincoln took a step forward,
"Wait! Leave her out of this!" He sighed, head dropping slightly before raising it to meet their gazes once more.
"I am the Lincoln you're looking for. I'll go with you do whatever you want, just let her go, alright?" He was afraid that his past was going to catch up to him one day but he had hoped that it wouldn't be under these circumstances. Octavia whirled around to look at him,
"What are you talking about Lincoln? What are they talking about? You can't go with them!"
"Octavia!" Lincoln yelled out as the raising of his voice alerted her to the danger but it was too late as she was struck from behind by one of the men with his gun, sending her sprawling to the pavement.
As she rolled over onto her side she could see that the guns were now trained on Lincoln as the man who had been doing the talking crouched down beside Octavia and said,
"You're right girl. He can't come with us," she saw him turn his head and make a gesture with his hand in front of his throat and she looked over and saw the men fire off gunshots. She screamed as Lincoln's body hit the road. Tears rolled down her face as she looked up at the man nearest her, his boot connecting with her face and then there was darkness and nothing more.
The slamming of a locker brought Octavia back to the present, the water not feeling as warm as it once did. She stepped out of the shower, got dressed and given that it had been her last period of the day, she made her way home, her mind beginning to focus on what she had planned that evening.
No sooner had she walked through her bedroom door, did she receive a new message from Clarke and as it turned out, it was one of her and Raven's patented video messages. Putting her bag down and sitting on her bed she hit play and watched the message unfold,
"Hey O!" They both yelled in chorus, "Sorry about this afternoon, bringing it up the way I did," she actually looked a little uncomfortable looking away from the camera as Raven bounced around being silly and full of energy in the background.
"Let me make it up to you," She looked over at Raven beside her who was in the middle of pulling a ridiculous face, "I would have said this in person but you kinda took off real quick after class. So let's have a girl's night in. Not tonight of course, late notice and all that but how about on Thursday? We'll watch some movies, eat some bad food and talk about boys."
She took a deep breath in, "Anyway, I'm not sure when you'll see this, hopefully as soon as you receive it, but we'll talk more about it at school okay? Love you O!"
The message ended with her and Raven blowing kisses and Octavia sighed. She felt even worse for carrying on the way she did and maybe it might be a good idea to spend some more time with her friends. They were worried by the looks of it and truthfully she had missed spending time with them. But that was a problem to deal with tomorrow.
She thought this as she changed out of her clothes she wore to school and into gear that was appropriate for her night time activities. She was wearing white form fitting pants, a white tank top, combat boots and top off the look she was going for her newly arrived hoodie in the Assassin's Creed style, the Conner Kenway version. She had two of them to be exact, one in white and red and the other in black and red.
Depending on her mood and what she was planning for the suspect/s that she hunted down was what would ultimately determine her wardrobe preferences for the evening. She was going with the white this time, white meaning purity and light meaning this time she was going to get the information she wanted before allowing the police to do what they wanted with the suspect when she was finished with them.
Walking over to her walking in wardrobe, she opened the door and uncovered her hidden trunk which contained various items which she'd picked up in her quest to search for answers. The trunk was loaded with blades, ammunition and something she didn't go without on her "missions" with.
The Desert Eagle pistol she'd acquired not too long ago. She checked the chamber and turned the safety on clipping it into the holster which was nicely concealed by her hoodie/jacket. She had a sheath that ran down the length of her back to slide the blade in and two more, one on either side for daggers.
Not needing any of the other weapons she had stored for safe keeping she pocketed her cell phone, closed, locked and hid the trunk before shutting the wardrobe door. Stepping across to look at herself in the mirror quickly, she had to adit she looked fierce. Fierce and deadly, which is exactly what she was going for.
Nothing and nobody was going to stand in her way.