A/N: Guess whose back?! I am and with the sequel! Now if you haven't read Protégé, it would help if you read it first so you get Kris a bit more. Also, this one is a bit more violent and might be boosted to 'M' if I have to. In addition, I use in this story, Edger Allan Poe's The Masque of the Red Death and The Raven a lot. Other than this…Review, PM, etc. Thanks for the support also.

Disclaimer: I do not own this except Kris and the story.

"Children show scars like medals. Lovers use them as secrets to reveal. A scar happens when the word is made flesh." - Leonard Cohen

Ch. 1: Scars

A man was walking on the streets. He was not doing anything except walking and yet he was chose as the next prey. He turned into a dark corner when suddenly he felt a knife to his back, his throat slit immediately but the killer was not done.

Far from done.

Kris' POV

My name was Kris. G. L. Marx, I am age fifteen, a former protégé, and I'm an orphan. Damn that sounds depressing if you really think that out a bit. I chuckled to myself when I think about how my life has changed a bit. Most people would when you used to be a person who liked their solitude but now here I was.

It was November, three months since I met Detective Jane Rizzoli and Doctor Maura Isles. These two women were incredible to know and I was grateful to know them. I had been a witness to a case and had to go into protective custody even though I knew them once before briefly…this was much better.

November could be the best or worst month if you knew how to approach so I was happy for an early snowfall began in East Boston and I loved every moment about it. Father Price was placing the heat on while I sat at the window ledge of my bedroom overseeing the graveyard, reflecting about things.

Over the last three months, I had become close friends to two women of the BPD. Now, I would come every Sunday for family dinner because Angela Rizzoli insisted. I visited and stood most of the day working on the motorcycle in Maura's garage. I liked how life was going so far and I was excited for Cavanaugh was going to give me a job in helping in the Homicide Division. I wasn't going to investigate of course but it was opportunity to observe and learn.

I was going to be an intern.

"Kris," I heard Father Price called me from below. I walked down the staircase to see Price sitting in front of a TV. I glanced at him then at the television, sitting next to him.

"What's up," I asked.

He pointed to the TV and I looked over to see the news on.

"Recently down on Vine Street and Oakrage, a man was found dead in the middle of the street stabbed multiple times. It said that his ring finger is missing and is mark with the words, 'Red Death' on his back. Homicide is taking over and the ME is on their way to the scene."

A missing finger and the words 'Red Death', oh fuck, it cannot be. He's still in jail; he has to be still in jail because that's the only person I know that would do this.

"You don't think…" Price slowly asked but I shook my head slowly.

"He's still in jail, Price. He can't be out especially after everything that happened five years ago."

"Maybe you should go visit Detective Rizzoli and inform her of this."

"It might be something else, Price."

"Kris G. L. Marx, just go and tell her. It's important just in case that it's…"

I quickly stood up, "Fine, I'll go, just don't say it. Just don't." I began to walk back upstairs to grab my leather jacket before realizing that I should put another long sleeve on under my jacket. I took off my jacket then my shirt as I looked down at my arms to see all the scars that I had. They slowly traveled up both of my forearms under my shirt to my shoulder blades.

Scars of the monster that once was a man, I thought to myself. I doubt it's he. He's still in jail but Price is right, I should check on it.

For my sanity

I was lucky that day I brought the motorcycle to the church placing it in the garage but due to the snow, it look like had to walk or run.

I think run would work in this scenario but as I walked out into the snow, I immediately zipped my jacket up tightly even though I could the sting from the scars on my arms and shoulder because of the cold. I groaned and began to walk; this is going to be a long day for me.

Jane's POV

Blood was mostly what I saw. There was no identification on this man but all I knew was that he was a victim of a very gruesome death. His throat slit and stabbed multiple times but on the back was the words 'Red Death'. I didn't understand how this was significant. It meant something to the killer.

I glanced at my watch then turned at the sound of the voices. I looked over to Maura walking over in a black wool coat, a white dress, and of course, the high heels. Of all things especially in the snow, she wore high heels to the crime scene. I walked over, "Hey Doc."

"Hello Detective," she greeted back. "What do we have today, Jane?"

"Male Caucasian was found here. No one heard anything, Maura that's the scary part," I relayed to her as she crouched down next to the body. I looked down with her while my eyes wandered to her legs. Isn't she cold, I wondered. "Maur?"

"Yes Jane," she looked up at me.

"Aren't you fuckin' cold?"

"Language Jane."

"Like she ever watched her language, Maura," we both turned around to see Kris standing behind the crime scene tape smiling at us. I stood up, as did Maura as we walked over to Kris. I gave her a light hug, as did Maura who hugged her also. "What are you doing, Kiddo," I inquired.

Kris glanced over my shoulder looking at the body, "I heard about the murder. I just want to check on something."

"Kris, you know you can't," Maura told her. "You are not supposed to be involved and you don't start your internship until later."

Kris looked down at her feet as she rubbed her arms slowly as if she was in pain. Maura noticed this as I did because it was same thing I did to my hands when they hurt. "Kris," she looked up at us, "are you ok?"

"Oh yeah, just a little bit achy that's all."

"You are not sleeping either," Kris' eyes flashed up fast at Maura who went under the tap. She touched Kris' cheek then turned her head a bit, "when was the last time you had a full night's sleep?"

"Um…two days ago."

"Why?"

"Nightmares," Kris answered.

"Kris…"

"I know. I know. It's unhealthy and I need to talk them out. Maura, I already know," Kris immediately told her.

I smiled at her as Maura softly glared at the teen. "Jane, I'm going to go back to examining the body," she told me as she walked off.

I looked at Kris who kept watching the body. "Were there any witnesses," she inquired as she looked at the crowd around her.

"If they are, Korsak, Frost and Frankie can't find one," I told her. I went under the tape and stood next to her as we began to walk around a bit on our own accord. One thing I noticed in the last couple of months that I've known Kris is that she liked to walk when she talked sometimes. We passed through the crowd as I inquired, "What's the real reason you are here?"

"What makes you think I'm not here to say hi," Kris asked back. I knew that was a total lie cause if Kris wanted to say hi any other time she would have texted me or dropped by Headquarters to talk.

"Kris…"

She looked down then back at me, "Curiosity, Jane, you know."

"Whatever Kiddo."

Kris' POV

I was a coward. I could say that I was a big coward because I didn't tell her the truth for my visit. How could I? This was going to be complicated and I hate talking about my childhood. It was a very sensitive subject.

However, Jane went back to the crime scene as she told Frankie to drop me off at Headquarters. I went into the Homicide bullpen and took a seat at Jane's desk. I looked around seeing that no one was around and slowly started to log into Jane's computer. I needed to enter the case files and I was fine until I reached a small block. I need to have Jane's access code that she uses to get in.

Password? Let's see if I was Jane what I would put for a password. Hmm…

First attempt: Badass. Access denied.

Second attempt: Rizzoli. Access denied.

Last attempt…I had to think this for a moment, thinking hard. Oh wow, I didn't think that. Last attempt: Maura. Access granted.

I smirked and soon I was in, slowly going through files. After all these years, I can still remember the case file number as I typed it in, 160030 KGLM. The file slowly pulled up and I sighed as I stared at the photo of a man.

He had piercing blue eyes, darker than my own. He also had dark brown hair in contrast to my black hair. His face was somewhat like a reflection of me in someway except for some physical aspects and skin tone; he was slightly paler than I was. It was a face of a man I thought I knew, he was someone I looked up to until he met a monster and things changed. It began a nightmare for me.

The man was my father, Adrian Marx.

Maura's POV

There was not much evidence at the crime scene according to Jane. I was looking for anything that the body could give me; it was unfortunate that he had no identification as I examined his body. Suddenly I heard the doors open and the sound of footsteps entering. I turned over my shoulder to see that it was not Jane but Kris who looked slightly pale as she sat and lay on the other autopsy table. "Kris, that is not a place to nap at," I told her.

"I'm not napping, meditating and why is it suddenly hot in here," she inquired as she sat up.

I shook my head and looked down at the body until I heard footsteps knowing that was Jane, "Hey Mau…" I turned around to see Jane with the most shocked expression on her face, I looked over at the direction she was staring at and I gasped loudly.

Kris had taken off her jacket, which was highly unusual and placed it down on one of the chairs. Her long sleeved were roll up to reveal multiple scars going up the arm, the sight of them disappearing under the shirt. Kris looked up at us, "What?"

"Your arms, Kris, that's what," Jane immediately replied. "When…where…how?"

Kris looked down at her arms as I placed the scalpel down and removed my gloves. I slowly approached her but she slowly backed away. "Kris, what happened," I worried.

She looked up at us, her blue eyes sad and angry. She then glanced back at her arms, slowly tracing each scar. "It's call my childhood," she answered softly before walking into my office and closing the door.