Disclaimer: I am required by law and by my code of honor (which I really DO have…and not just because of the show) to state that I do not own Avatar. However, I do own the poem that is down there and the story plot of this particular story.

Warning: As with most of my stories, this story has slash. Meaning boy x boy. Also, note that this story is mostly Jet x Zuko, with hints of Sokka x Zuko in it. There will also be blood and murder and death.

Note: This is an AU (alternate universe) story that takes place in modern times.

Cold hazed eyes linger in the cold,
Reflecting shadows of secrets untold,
A still body confirms a world gone wrong,
And all that's left is a lingering ghost song.

--Ghost Song
--by: SVA (aka: ME)

Prologue:

Flashing red and blue lights were everywhere; drowning out the night by reflecting off the shimmering wet surfaces. Those lights revealed each and every little thing: from the yellow 'do not enter' ribbons around the place, to the thousands of police cars, to the crowd of people whispering in fear and confusion, to the dark crimson liquid pooling on the ground, and finally to the disfigured body crumpled unceremoniously in the alley.

A figure wearing full police uniform, which was simply a black buttoned up t-shirt and a pair of black pants with a belt holding standardized police weapons, scanned the scene in front of him with a frown.

"Shit."

Without another word, he quickly drew out his black walkie-talkie and quickly turned it on, pressing a button as he started to speak.

"I'm at the crime scene, over."

As he waited for the reply, he scanned the disfigured body, barely able to make out the ice-blue eyes and the tousled black hair.

The static from the walkie-talkie drew his attention.

"Roger that Sokka. Is there a body?"

The figure, Sokka, rolled his eyes, biting back the sarcastic comment of 'of course there's a body!'. This was all formalities…both knew there was a body but it needed to be…confirmed.

"Yep." Sokka replied, running a free hand through his short, disheveled hair. Usually it would have been pulled back into a short ponytail, but tonight he had had no time.

The static drew his attention back yet again. "Roger. Describe the body."

Sokka sighed as he stepped closer to the body, gingerly avoiding the rivulets of blood. "The victim is male, looking to be about twenty—" He paused as one of the officers tapped his shoulder and handed him a small card.

Blinking, Sokka turned the card over, before realizing that it was an identification card. "Correction." He spoke into the walkie-talkie. "The victim is twenty-two years old. Name: Li Qing."

"Roger." Came the answer almost immediately. "Describe the form of death."

Sokka inched around the body to get a better look. "There are multiple wounds on his chest, stomach, and legs." He paused as he looked at one of the medics kneeling near the body. The medic caught his look and quickly explained his analysis.

Sokka nodded his thanks before relaying his information into the walkie-talkie. "The medic says the wounds are most likely from some-sort of sword," He paused as the medic interrupted quietly, "A broadsword to be exact."

There was a silence on the other end of the walkie-talkie before, "Are you positive about that, Sokka? Over."

The medic nodded when Sokka relayed the question to him.

"The medic says he's positive. Over."

Another silence, then, "Who the bloody hell carries a broadsword around with them these days!"

Although Sokka inwardly agreed, he was too tired for contemplations. "Look Pakku, I'm only telling you what the medics have told me. But there are abnormally long, wide gashes on the victim's body and I'm no expert on wounds. I'm only saying what the medic told me."

There was a pause on the other end before "Alright, Sokka." Another pause and Sokka thought he heard Pakku conversing with someone in the background…either that, or the static was playing tricks on him. "Hand the walkie-talkie to the medic, Sokka. I'd like to speak to him." Came the answer, and Sokka sighed.

"Alright. Sokka over and out." He quickly handed the walkie-talkie to the medic, who immediately began to relay all of his analysis to Pakku.

Sokka was quiet as he stared down at the body while listening faintly to the analysis. Three gashes to the stomach, one to the knees, five smaller gashes to the chest, and one to the neck. It was the same pattern they had found on the previous two bodies. However, the weapons had been varied. The first had been killed with multiple weapons, possibly double hook lain swords and dagger swords. The first had also, by far, the deepest gashes out of all three bodies.

The second, meanwhile, had smaller gashes and were possibly made with butterfly knives.

How the hell the murderer managed to get those weapons was still a mystery. Unless the murderer was part of a large black market smuggling business, he (or she) should not have access to those weapons.

Sokka sighed as he crossed his arms and glanced down at the body as it was lifted onto a stretcher to be taken for examination. Shaking his head slowly, Sokka bit his lip. The third case this past two weeks. This was not good. Dimly he wondered if this was just the beginning. Where there more deaths to come? Was this the start of a serial murder case?

He shuddered. He hoped not.

Sokka was quickly brought back out of his thoughts by the medic tapping his shoulder and handing him the walkie-talkie. "Sokka here, over."

Pakku's voice once again sounded through the static. "Roger. I've sent Aang to take a look at the body." There was a pause, then, "Be at the station at eight, tomorrow, pronto. Got that Sokka? And don't be late as you usually are. Over."

Sokka sighed and rubbed his temple. Eight? Why eight in the morning? That means he'll be getting only…what? Four, five hours of sleep tonight? This was so unfair. Frowning, he replied. "Fine, I'll be there. But if I fall asleep halfway through the day, don't blame me. Sokka over and out."

He quickly shut off the walkie-talkie before he could hear Pakku's answer. It was late, and he was too tired to put up with the lectures and snide comments. Pakku had ego problems and Sokka greatly enjoyed poking at them and teasing him, but he was in no mood tonight. He needed a shower and a good rest. Scoffing, he knew he'd only be getting one of those tonight.

This, by the way, is only the prologue. I am planning for this story to have six chapters…maybe a bit more, but I'm aiming at six.

As always, please review and if anything offends you please either: 1) Review with constructive criticism, meaning add more than just that you hate this, or 2) Simply do not review.

SVA