"Your brother is in a coma-"

My hands seize the walls, feet losing the friction they had against the icy tiles as I slide down the divider. It takes a moment for my brain to register her words, eyes scanning the bumpy texture of the wall directly across from me. I clasp a hand over my mouth, tears beginning to flow from under my closed eyelids.

"I'll be right there," is what I meant to say, but it sounded more like, "Eye'll ba ret tere."

It takes a brief time period to gather myself together, pick the broken fragments of Ishizu Ishtar up off of the ground. Using the wall as my guide, I attempt to stand, my wobbly legs shifting under my weight. Luckily, I don't fall, just wobble on my heels a bit like a woman who has never worn them before would.

Grabbing my purse, I dash inside my car, starting the ignition as fast as my trembling hands will allow before taking off.

"Marik," the words slip from my mouth as I take quick steps towards him. The nurse slowly steps out of the room and shuts the door. My eyes glaze over with tears once more, gripping his icy hand in one of my own. It's unbearable; seeing such a perky boy confined to a sort of death sleep. I let the tears fall, resting my head near his slightly darker one. If I could climb into that cot with him I would. I wonder what he's dreaming about. I hope he has good dreams.

I sit with him in silence for awhile, before my lips find his forehead, planting a small butterfly atop it. I run my fingers through his golden locks, staring down at him through the tears, an insufferable smile glued to my cheeks.

"Wake up, okay?" I whisper, beginning to rise as I can take no more of this emotional torture.

As I exit the sanitarium, my mind reflects on what one of the doctors told me: "It's very rare that he fell into this coma, he shows no sign of a fatal illness or medical problem that could be the answer. He just fell into it."

He just fell into it. I readjust my purse, burrowing my hands deeper into the warmth of my pockets. Patients in the lobby all direct their attention towards my tear stained face, blotchy and red as it is. It's even more cruel than the stupid card I've been dealt, so I dash out of there quickly.

The world continues to prosper, so I will too. The only thing I can really think of doing is working my butt off, just to distract my mind off of everything. Once I no longer needed to play the museum curator card, I took up work as an investigative reporter. If you don't know what that is, basically think of someone who goes to extreme lengths to solve a case or present one. Basically, an idiot. Yet, I've done exactly that, exposing corrupt officials and helping solve a handful of murder cases. The editor, Hondo, an old friend of mine, considers me the best reporter he's got, allowing me a variety of stumping cases to choose from. It's not really for the money, or the good feeling I get afterwards, but it's mainly for myself. I don't really have a lot of friends, and work is almost like a de-stresser. Oh God, I'm becoming Seto Kaiba.

The thought makes me chuckle. "You haven't grown heartless yet, Ishizu Ishtar," I murmur to myself, dropping my purse and dodging loose papers scattered across the floor as I flop down into my business chair. It has a special name because it's the only fancy chair I have, all black leather with wheels, and it's right in front of my desk, too.

I lean forward, wheels gliding across the floor as I slide closer to the desk. Unlocking my computer, I check some of the files he's sent to me, noticing a new one. Must've been sent while I was with Marik. I swallow, a lump beginning to form in my throat.

'No, don't think of that.' I chide myself, dragging the mouse over and clicking it. A page pops up, not fitting the usual format he often sends the cases in. I shrug, deciding to think nothing of it and scroll down to read the title: 'Three women found dead.' Hm.

I scroll further, a graphic image popping up. I turn away quickly, nearly gagging on my coffee. Although it is rare Hondo would send a photo along with his letters, he usually censors them well enough to where it isn't completely disgusting.

There's a little text box beneath the image, and I read it: 'Victim 1, unidentified. Brutally raped by a man and several objects.'

What the hell? I begin reading the first victims story below.

'Victim 1. A short, middle aged woman with black hair and fair skin. Face missing. DNA analysis will confirm identity. Several large bruises appear on the body, as a result of a brutal rape, stretching her out.'

I shudder, not too fond of the reproductive act. I've heard at a man's will, it can be very, very painful.

'Her labia majora and minora were shred to pieces, her clitoris on the ground nearby. A sharp, knife like object was stuck inside her vagina, as her captor moved it in and out in a cruel manor, causing immense pain.'

My eyes flutter towards the image once more, against my will, noticing a large slit coming from the crotch area towards the belly button.

Tears fill the corners of my eyes as I imagine how painful her last moments on earth must have been, crossing my legs together in an attempt to put those haunting deeds out of my mind.

I notice the skin of her face is gone, along with her eyes, leaving behind empty red sockets. Her body is nearly black and veiny, from the various lump sized bruises occurring across her disproportional body. Bones ripple out from beneath her organ-less body, skin dished out in awkward positions, mangled parts of tissue scattered around her.

The rest are even less appealing, this serial killers style getting more and more gruesome. However, I notice a common streak between the three corpses: Each was murdered on a Wednesday, each had black hair, and each were currently living alone. The similarities are alarming because, they all relate to me.

As I'm pondering buying myself a blonde wig, my inbox lights up. Of course I check it without a second thought, surprised the message is from Hondo.

'Have you decided which case your taking yet?'

He usually gives me a couple assignments, letting me choose before anyone else. I begin typing back, fingers flying across the keyboard.

'Yes..I chose the one about the rape/murders?'

I lean back, surprised at how quick he responds.

'How did you gain access to that?'

I'm surprised, reaching for my phone and dialing his number slowly.

"Hondo?" I ask, brow furrowing.

"Ishizu? How did you, uh, get that case?" He responds shakily.

"You sent it to me, along with all the others." I respond questioningly, wondering why he's chosen to keep it from me.

"Damn, I must've accidentally sent it to you. Hey, uh, don't tell anyone about this okay? The chief didn't want this information getting out." I frown.

"Why not? Doesn't the chief trust me?"

"He didn't specify, look, just delete the file, okay?"

I nod, saving the document. "Done. I guess I'll look into.." my eyes scan the list of documents I ignored, finding one that seems me-ish. If that makes any sense.

"Alright. Again, I'm real sorry about this Ishizu. Anyway, I've gotta go to bed," he mumbles, hanging up the phone. He always does stuff like this, so straightforward. I smile faintly, glancing at the file I didn't delete.