Chapter Eleven:
Everything around Kiona seemed blurred. Her head was pounding and she felt something wet run down beside her ear. Someone grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her over their shoulders. They were running, and Kiona's limp body bounced with every step.
Kiona was shoved in a car that smelled of strong smoke. Someone was shouting and then they drove, speeding away.
Kiona heard the loud sirens that followed them, and someone swore. Kiona eyes fluttered closed, her head pounding like a drum. Slowly, the noise around her faded, as she fell unconscious.
~•~•~•~•~
Sans noticed the looks of curiosity that was given to him and Toriel as they entered the police station. Some of them looked at the duo with disgust. Actually, no, most of them were disgusted, and Sans sighed, annoyed.
A man approached them. He was broad shouldered and dark-skinned - Frisk had informed him that people of his skin tone were Black, or African American. Sans noticed that he was the only 'African-American' that he had seem since he enter the police station.
"You must be, Mrs. Dreemurr," The man said, his voice deep and serious. He stretched out his hand and Toriel took it, and shook his hand gratefully. "And you must be-"
"Sans," Sans finished, and the man nodded.
"Let's not beat around the bush," He said seriously, "Would you mind coming to my office?"
"Of course," Toriel nodded and the man led the duo down a hall and into a brightly lit room. The shutters on the curtains were closed, but sunlight still managed to peek through, despite its efforts.
The man motioned to the two seats, but neither one of them sat down. Sans mainly didn't because he had been a ball of nerves the entire trip here. If he sat down now, he couldn't convince himself to get back up.
"As I said over the phone, I am Director Wilson, but you can call me Martin," he said. "We have both of them, Hoana Pala, and Zackiery Jackson. Neither have been responding to any of my officers, despite out best attempts. However, she did meet you, is that right, Mrs. Dreemurr?"
"Yes, she did," Toriel agreed.
"I hope you don't mind, but, we were hoping that you could talk to her. Being a mother yourself and - please don't take this the wrong way - if she dislikes you enough, she might spill."
"I understand," Toriel nodded solemnly.
"You said there might be a body," Sans spoke, and Director Wilson turned. "On the phone, you said someone died."
"Yes. We did get reports of gunshots, however, the body our forensics team recovered was not Kiona's." Sans shoulders sagged, and he seemed to let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. Kiona was still alive. She was gone, but she was still alive. "The body recovered was a man who had been a member of a gang that was in one of our neighboring cities. Although the murder had been here, he is native to that city, therefore it is not our jurisdiction. However, the men and women on that team are some of my closest friends. I trust them to do their job properly."
"Thank you," Toriel said kindly and the man nodded.
"It's part of our job," Wilson said. "Protect and serve - that includes Monsters, and especially children. Some people on our staff haven't seem to have gotten that memo yet," he said honestly. "Now, let's get this over with."
~•~•~•~•~
The door opened and Toriel stepped inside the small room, and was followed by a female officer. Hoana, who was handcuffed to the table, glanced up. Then, she let out a scoff, and looked back down.
Toriel sat, her hands resting on her lap. "Miss Pala-"
"Don't call me that," the woman cut her off immediately.
"Hoana," Toriel fixed. "Where is she?"
Hoana laughed, "You're going to have to try harder than that."
"I do not want to have to try any harder than this," Toriel admitted. "She is just a child, she does not deserve this."
"She doesn't deserve this?" The woman scoffed again. "That child had been a pain in my ass since she was born. Everyday, whining and crying! All I wanted was a normal child, a adorable little girl, and look at what I got? A defected retard."
Toriel inhaled, "What did you do with her?"
"I did you a favour," Hoana replied. "Trust me when I say, she's no good."
"She is plenty good," Toriel said. "Who are you to rate the ability and worth of a child?"
"I'm her mother," Hoana rolled her eyes. "Believe it or not, I know her. Changed her diapers, cleaned her shit, I know my child."
"You are no mother," Toriel said coldly. "You are a sorry excuse for a human. You should be ashamed."
"Of what?" Hoana laughed, "I finally found use for that child! Made a hundred grand in a night, that child was only worth fifty!" Hoana chuckled again, strings of her dark hair falling into her face.
Toriel glanced at the woman, and gave her a slight nod. The woman took this signal, and left the room. "What are you doing?" Hoana said, a laugh on her tone. Toriel rose, brushing off her dress. "Do you really think you scare me?"
"I do not wish the scare you, Miss Pala," Toriel sighed, leaning over the table and took her hands with both of her own. Hoana tried to yank her hands away, but her grip was scarily tight, and uncomfortably warm. "In the month, or so that I have known Kiona, I have seen that she is one of the brightest, and most dedicated children I have ever had the luxury of meeting." Hoana stared at her hand as it was slowly growing hotter between the Monster's paws. It was as if her hand were taped to a burning stovetop. "She is highly intelligent in math and science, and her creative skills are exemplary."
"Ah...!" Hoana hissed, her skin beginning to burn.
"She is honestly quite funny, and such a wonderful friend to my own child," Toriel admitted, laughing and the heat increases quickly. Hoana's heart sped up, and her eyes began to dart around the room, looking for an escape, but finding none.
"And yes, her magical skills are extraordinary, the best, and most unique that I have ever seen." Hoana could smell her skin sizzling and tears pricked her eyes. She could smell her skin burning, and see the smoke seeping out of between their hands. "So, yes, I have only known Kiona for about a month, but in this time, I have grown to love her like my own child. So, I will ask you one more time."
Hoana looked at Toriel. Her golden eyes were fierce and her face stern. She looked like she could set Hoana ablaze with just a sideeye glare. "Where is my child?"
"You..." Hoana gasped through her pain. "You can't do this! This isn't right!"
"So is abusing a twelve-year old," Toriel said, almost pouting. "Life is not fair."
The two stared for about another minute until Hoana finally gave. "Fine! Fine! I'll talk!" She broke, and Toriel smiled, taking her hands away. Hoana looked down, expecting to see them cracked and burned from the heat, but they were perfectly fine.
Toriel left the room, and the female officer came in, a notepad and a pen in her hands.
"Thank you," The Director said, watching as the woman reluctantly spilt everything to the officer who was writing speedily, nodding, and asking questions.
"My pleasure," Toriel replied. "As long as Kiona comes home."
"Now," Wilson straightened his collar and turned to Sans, who had been sitting down. "Are you ready?" Sans looked up, and nodded, standing. "Like I told Mrs. Dreemurr, we'll all be outside the door. If anything goes wrong, don't fight, we'll be right there and we can - and will - handle it. Do you understand?"
"Yep," Sans said, his tone light but his eyes dangerous, and he stepped into the cell that held Zackiery Jackson.
~•~•~•~•~
Kiona eyes fluttered open, and she looked around, confused. She was on the ground and it was cold, she was cold too and she shivered. Kiona could smell smoke, the same smoke smell her mommy had, and the smell of that strange drink she drank too.
"Mommy?" Kiona called out, but it hurt to talk, or move, and she winced.
There was a sound of muttering, and then a man walked in front of her. "Yep, she's awake," He said, pushing the end to a strange black thing in her face. Kiona scooted away, and he laughed.
"Bring her in here," another man said. "I wanna see what she can do."
The man grabbed the back of her shirt and lifted her up. Kiona felt her head spin at the sharp movement and she suddenly vomited all over the ground. "Ah!" The man jumped, letting her go. Kiona hit the ground on her side, not being able to stop her fall because her hands were tied.
"What?" The voice asked, annoyed.
"The bitch puked all over my new shoes!" He growled, kicking Kiona and she gasped, tears picking her eyes as she began to cry.
"Just bring her over here!" The man snapped. He picked her up again, and quickly carried her to the voice of the other man.
He glared down at her, disgusted as she sobbed, "Hook her up," he ordered. A second later, the first man sat her in a strange chair. Kiona struggled, but the man hit her so she stopped.
Kiona let out a half sob as the man placed something tight on her head, then did the same on her arms, legs, and chest. "Start it?" The second man nodded and the first man pulled a lever. There was a lot of whirring and Kiona felt something buzz around her, but after five minutes, nothing happened.
"Wha'-?" The first man said, and tried again, but again, it did nothing.
"Is she even a magician!?" He growled.
"Yea! Yes she is! But she-"
"But what!?" He snarled, "I didn't give up a hundred grand for a magician that's not even magic!" He kicked the chair Kiona was in and she let out a scream, crying loudly.
"She did it before! With her mother!" The first man said frantically.
"Then make her do it again!" He demanded. "If she isn't churning out magic by tomorrow night, you're going to wake up with a bullet in your skull!" Then, the second man left.
Kiona was still crging, and after a minute of the man being silent, he finally snapped, "Shut the fuck up!" He yelled, hitting Kiona again, and she wailed, but went a little quieter. "Just, shut up!" He said again, shaking with anger.
Kiona stared at the man pacing back and forth, she wanted her Mommy! She wanted to go back home!
~•~•~•~•~
Ten minutes had passed before Sans said anything to the man sitting across from him. "This has got to be a joke," The man scoffed, rolling his dark eyes.
"This isn't a joke," Sans replied, and the man tensed, as if he didn't believe Sans could speak.
"Oh, great, the spooky, scary skeleton speaks," Zackiery laughed, and Sans glared. "Well, you're in here, you caught me, congratulations. What next? Because, you're not very good at this interrogation thing."
"M'jus' tryin' to figure out," Sans began, sitting up straighter in his seat. "What kind of sick fuck molests a twelve-year old?"
"That's what this is about?" He laughed.
"Yeah, it is," Sans glared. "What the hell is wrong wit' ya?"
"Please," he rolled his eyes, "Her mother's a druggie and I wanted some cheap sex," he shrugged. "Having sex with a drunk woman isn't as fun as a sober one." Zackiery gave a dangerous grin, and Sans stared at him, his left eyes glowing a bit.
"So that's it?" Sans demanded, "You wanted sex an' she was jus' there?"
"Yep," Zackiery leaned back in his seat - which didn't work well because his hands were still cuffed to the table. "And she wasn't all that bad. Kept crying and shit, but after a while, she broke."
Sans had enough, he subtly used his magic to make the man sit back up, and stare at him. "What are you-!?" He said, but Sans cut him off by holding up a hand.
"Ya know, she had nightmares about ya," Sans told him. "She wakes up screamin', won't let anyone touch 'er. She doesn't eat, won't drink anythin' wit' a bottled end." Sans paused for a second, "It's the little things that ya did to 'er that 'urts the most."
"She's being dramatic," He rolled his eyes, "She always was, that little bitch. When that kid came to Hoana door, trying to get her to bring her to her, Hoana turned them down. Neither of us wanted anything to do with her, but then we found out she was magic," he grinned.
"Who told ya that?" Sans demanded, eyes wide.
"Ah, I don't give out my-" Sans flicked his hand, and Zackiery's head came down on the metal table, hard. When he rose it again, his nose was bleeding.
"Who told you?" Sans said slowly, more angry.
"Some kid, goddamn it!" He groaned, trying to massage his nose with his hands. "Came to our door, a couple nights back, when the kid left, the newspaper had an address scribbled on it."
"What did the kid look like?"
"Short, brown hair, brown eyes, probably black, or Mexican. They wore a weird sweater, it was purple, or something, I forget." Sans stared at the man in shock. Frisk. Frisk is the reason why Kiona was kidnapped.
"We drove by the address a few times, and saw her getting slapped around by another woman," Zackiery shrugged and Sans' eyes darkened again. Ms. Ophelia hit Kiona. "We took her that night. Is there anything else you want, Mr. Skellington?" He sneered.
"Yeah, I hope ya go to hell," Sans said, then got up to leave the room.
"As long as you're there with me," Zackiery grinned. Sans flicked his hand again, and again, Zackiery's face came down on the metal table, probably breaking his nose. Zackiery was lucky it was just his nose. If he and that man were alone, he'd break a lot more than just his nose.
