It was sometime after midnight when the lightning in the sky crashed upon the rooftops of Domino...

Something in the air smelled of smoke and fire; the sky was red.

The civillians living near the burning complex stood outside in the rain, watching in horror as the flames outgrew the rain, seemingly impossible to extinguish as they cried and tried to brave the fear of dying...fears of burning alive. No avail, none whatsoever.

A police siren struck the entire atmosphere, piercing eardrumss and wailing through the shocked silence as it finally made it's way to the complex; little did they know, try as they may to help, they couldn't save two of the tennents.

Upon the very top of the building in a loft just in the corner lied two bodies deathly still amongst trashed and scattered belongings, pictures and broken glass; all of their life savings had been stolen and their one room had been defiled;

To the right of the room lied a half naked woman, and her long black hair had spread across the floor in puddles of her own blood, gasoline and rainwater from the outside through the broken window...

The fire had finally died just before reaching her; even though her face was torn and swelled, she was remarkably beautiful, but the pain in her eyes as she lost her grip on living had been enough to tell her story perfectly for the policemen and women rushing to her side; paramedics had her cared for immediately.

She was pronounced dead on the spot.

To the left had been a man in his mid 20s, around the same age as the woman, a glare upon his dead face as if to vow vengeance... his hair was white, but had bits of brown and pink blood in it, and his lips were torn and held a scar just under his left eye; because his skin was so pale, the bulletholes were easy to find, and his shirt was wrapped around the stab wounds in the woman's chest; he had been found holding her hand like a lifeline, it seemed.

Surrounding him were investigators and officers, trying to revive what they knew was slipping away from them in a matter of seconds...

Fire... Fire had caused this; the night was Hallow's Eve, but there was a popular saying that this was Night of Necrophades, where every year for decades a man and his group of underground gang members set things to fire for his enjoyment;

Tonight, unlike the years past, they had found another cruel source of enjoyment with this particular couple, the would-have-been newlyweds.

A bridal gown the woman would never get to wear was hung just across the room, soaked in alchohol and blood splatters.

A tuxedo was folded neatly in a dresser, knocked to it's side with the drawers smashed in.

"Officer, have you any identification on these two, here?"

A man by the name of Hiroto Honda asked as he held his notepad, badge flashing from the glow of the last embers in an ashtray on a nightstand;

Another man, Officer Rishid nodded, picking up a flyer for a band called "Dead Thief's Joke" as he examined the autographs.

He squinted his eyes in the dim lighting to read the scribbles before confirming "This man over here is named Bakura Ryo... and that woman..." he choked back tears of his own as he watched her being rolled away on a gurney, a sheet covering her face as Bakura had been lifted into one of his own;

"Her name is Isis Ishtar," he said quietly, shaking his head before eyeing the wedding dress and just above it, a broken picture of the two on the wall just above a small kitchenette.

"Looks to me like these two were gonna get married," Honda said quietly, crossing his arms. Rishid only closed his eyes, clenching his jaw;

"A shame that these things happen... Look at them and how young they are; things like this should never happen to anyone, and so help me God, I'm going to put whoever did this to these two in the lockup until they, themselves rot."

"Good thinking, Sir, but we have paperwork to fill out; now, how do we go about telling their families? I'm not seeing any proof of residence here to use for reference;"

"We'll notify the public; their family will know about this soon enough, the media is already eating this tragedy up like a sickened vulture."

"A shame, sir"

"Back to work, Officer."