AN: Ok I know I've been gone. I had to get my thoughts back together. And because I killed off a major character (which happened to be the MAIN character), I have posted a special chapter as a peace offering. And I mean special.
And to everyone: Lassie doesn't like it when he is killed off from his own story. So Yea...
Note to self: Hide guns in better places.
Chapter 28 – Just Another Day
Sunlight streamed through blinded windows to hit his face. He groaned and turned over feeling the arms of sleep still holding onto him. He snuggled deeper into the covers…
Then he realized he was supposed to be at work.
He hopped up from his bed shaking away the bout of lightheadedness, and hurried to the bathroom to get ready. He exited minutes later. Grabbing his usual attire, he rushed through dressing himself.
A sudden noise in the next room made him pause in buttoning his shirt. He looked up training his ears. A loud hum of a machine met his ears. Scowling at the thought of someone in his house, he quickly finished buttoning and grabbed one of his hidden guns from behind the TV.
Gun drawn, he cautiously left his bedroom and ventured down the short hallway to the den. Confusion ran briefly across his face at the sight before dropping into annoyance.
Pencils and pens littered his coffee table along with an electric pencil sharpener, and pieces of balled up paper lay forgotten on the floor. On the couch sat a young teenage girl with long, flowing black hair and a drawing pad on her jean-clad lap. She looked up at him with dark colored eyes and smiled.
He lowered his gun locking the safety and placing it in the small of his back.
"What are you doing in my house? I almost blew your head off."
She giggled and started back writing on the paper. "I felt like being here, so here I am." Her voice was airy.
"Felt like being here? You know you broke into an officer's house. That's a crime punishable by jail time."
"Yup, I know, Carlton." She continued to scribble.
"Wait a minute." He said raising a finger. "I've never met this girl and she calls me by my first name. Maybe she was on one of those school visits or a part of a case." With irritation at the revelation, he pointed that finger at the unknown girl. "You will respect me, little girl. It's Mr. Lassiter or Detective. Do not call me by my first name. Now, who are you and where are your parents?" He folded his arms.
She looked up at him strangely. "Mr. Lassiter? I've never called you that, Carlton." She dragged out the pronunciation of his name. He looked on with a deepened frown. "And I'm sad you forgot about me. We used to be bestest buds. Friends til the end."
"I don't have friends." He thought grudgingly.
She sniffed sadly.
He could see tears swell in her eyes and he motioned with his hands for her to calm down. "There's no need for you to cry."
"I'm not crying." She whined and rubbed her eyes. "You were always the strong one. I always got in the way and I understand why you feel that way."
He felt a little awkward. Weird kids were not his thing, especially weird, crying kids that said weird stuff.
"Do you need help or something?" He took a step forward. "Maybe she's mental. I have to get her back to her parents."
"I'm not mental, Carlton." She yelled out. "My parents are long gone. They died in a car accident when I was little. You should know that." She glared at him through teary eyes.
"How…?" Dumbfounded, he paused to reword the question. He was not going to let some unknown kid play mind games with him. "I get enough of that with Spencer." He looked at the girl giving his own glare."How should I know about your parents? I've never met you."
She huffed drying her eyes. "You keep thinking that. Stop it."
"Stop what?"
Frustrated, she stood up, slamming her drawing pad on the couch, and made her way to stand in front of him. The girl stood half his height.
"Man, you've grown." He heard her muttered in wonder before placing her hands on her hips. "Stop thinking you've never met me. Stop blocking yourself. I know it's painful." Her eyes saddened and turned away. "It's not your fault." She whispered.
"What's not my-" He caught himself before he asked, rubbing a hand down his face in annoyance. He was an officer first, but he badly wanted to kick this girl out. "What do you need?" He growled.
Her expression did a complete one-eighty and she smiled up at him. "Nothing. I'm here to help you."
Rolling his eyes, he grabbed her arm and dragged her to the front door.
"Carlton let me go!"
He ignored her protests. "I don't have time for this. Got to get to work."
"Do not go to the station, Carlton. That is not the place you need to be." She said digging her shoes into the carpet. "Stay here with me. I'll help you understa-"
"Who are you to say what I can and can not do? You're a kid. Stay in a kid's place." He opened the door. "I don't need help. You do. Now get out of my house."
Yanking her arm out of his grasp, she looked up at him with frustration on her face.
"You are so difficult sometimes." She huffed. "You don't even realize what's going on and its right in front of you. You have to stay here, calm down, and relax before something bad happens."
"I am calm and relaxed." He rolled his eyes and reached for the door as the girl continued her rant. "Crazy girl."
"I told you what you need to do. But if you're not going to listen, then I will leave and you will be on your own to figure this out and face the consequences."
Ignoring her, he pushed her out before slamming the door. An unnerving quiet settled in the house and he shook off the cold feeling.
"Well time to finish, so I can get to work."
He made his way back to the den. He scowled at the mess the girl made and walked over to see what she was so feverishly scribbling to find the exposed page blank. He flipped through the tablet. All of them blank. He reached down and unballed a piece of paper from the floor and it was blank too. He sighed angrily.
"That girl was mental."
Walking back into his bedroom, he glanced at the clock, while taking the gun from his backside and placing it in the nearest drawer. A bunch of silver pens gleamed off the top of the dresser.
"Got to go."
He grabbed the matching suit jacket from off the bed and hurried out the room. He grabbed his briefcase and his keys, and rushed out of the house locking everything as he went.
"That girl is gone." He noted internally as he got in his car. "Good riddance."
Seconds later he was driving down the street turning corner after corner to get out of the neighborhood, and as he turned onto a usually busy road, he took notice of the lack of moving cars and people. There were cars neatly parked at businesses and along the side of the street, but none driving on the road.
Curious about the internal note, he glanced at the rearview mirror. Dark trees branches blocked his view and his eyebrows rose in confusion.
Suddenly a huge buck appeared in the middle of the road. Gasping, he pushed hard on the brake. It exploded into a silent red cloud drenching the windshield in blood. His car screeched to a halt.
He mentally cursed.
"What's a deer doing in the middle of a busy city?"
Placing the car in park, he jumped out. His heart pounded in his chest as he made his way to the front. He stared and rubbed a hand through his hair in disbelief.
Blood was splattered across the pavement and on the hood, but there was no sign of a body or a dent on the car. He looked under the car. Again there was nothing, except short tire tracks marked in red on the pavement.
"Maybe the body rolled to the back." He thought, even though, he knew he didn't hear anything go across the top of the car or feel anything roll underneath the tires.
He stood up and made his way to the back.
Everything was dry, except for a few droplets of blood. He shook his head and folded his arms as he turned to head back to the front of the car.
"I guess I'll be driving a bloody…" He paused looking at the hood. "…car?"
The hood was clean. He looked under again to see the pavement also clean and dry.
"What?"
He looked around at the many businesses. No one was out and no one had driven by, since he'd been there.
"What is going on?" He muttered to himself as he sat back in his car. "First, I oversleep, then that girl shows up, now an exploding and disappearing deer." He put the car in drive and pushed the gas. "I must be catching something."
Minutes later, he pulled into his designated parking spot at work. Stepping out and closing the car door, he noted some of his coworkers' cars, but again he held back his confusion at the lack of bustle from the station. No one was coming in or out.
Cautiously, he made his way up the steps and through the front doors. Everything was quiet inside and the air felt like static. He didn't really know how to describe it. He ventured in, past the reception desk, through the vacant main office area and bullpen, past the closed door to the Chief's office, and toward his desk.
A white piece of paper sat in the center of his organized desk.
"Where is everyone?" He thought picking up the paper.
Is this how you view life? You need a life. Add some flavor to it. Try a little citrus or, better yet, why not steal someone else's for a change.
His eyebrows rose at the message and settled into a scowl at the mentioning of trying a citrus fruit. There's only one person who would leave something like this on his desk.
"Spencer!"
He looked up expecting to see his associates' smiling faces from their hiding places with that imbecile of a psychic at the head, but his face fell at seeing no one.
It was still eerily quiet.
Ignoring the sudden chill, he placed the note back on his desk and ventured to the back of the station, hoping that this was some kind of prank and not the end of the world.
The interrogation hallway was clear. The restrooms were clear. The offices were clear. The storage rooms were clear. He looked in the morgue. No one was there; even the dead bodies were gone.
The whole building felt empty.
His eyes wandered to the only area he hadn't checked.
"Lock up."
He looked at the sign before swiping his card to get in. It beeped in confirmation and the door popped open.
"There has to be someone around here." He muttered to himself as he walked in. The door locked soundly behind him.
The usual noises of the criminals were absent and it unnerved him to think that those absent hoodlums could be outside causing harm to innocent people.
Suddenly his ears picked up something heavy being dragged on the cement floor down the hallway and around the corner from him. Pulling his gun out, he hurriedly followed the sound. He glanced around the corner to see a door to the right closing with an audible click and he hurried out of his cover to follow.
He reached the cherry wood door and his eyebrows rose in confusion. 'Solitary confinement,' it read in big, black letters.
"We don't have a unit like that." He whispered in disbelief.
This police department only had facilities to hold people for a short amount of time. Anyone who had to do serious time was always transferred to a state prison or correctional facility, so something like solitary was never needed.
He rubbed his head and then tried to open the door. It was locked.
He sighed in frustration and tucked his gun back in his holster, only to pull it back out when he heard a yell. He took off in its direction back down the hallway, down a long flight of stairs, and into one of the three holding areas, also known as Cell Block B.
The area had four barred cells on each side and it was dimly lit, which was very unusual.
He cautioned his footsteps and looked in each of the cells as he ventured down.
Nothing was out of the ordinary …so far.
"Except for the lack of lights and criminal presence…"
Something dropped outside of the last cell on the left. It looked like a woman's arm and hand lying on the floor between the bars and he jogged over to look in. His stomach jumped at the sight and he quickly covered his mouth with his arm at the vomit that was forming.
The arm wasn't attached to a body, and blood, tissue, and pieces of bone covered every inch of the cell. The smell was sickening and he backed away gagging. He had to wonder why he didn't smell it before. The stench of the dead never stayed in one area for too long.
A shadow moved in his peripheral and he turned with gun trained.
Nothing was amiss, but he kept his gun up.
"Someone's in here." He thought with eyes scanning the dimly-lit room.
Something hit the wall in the cell to his right and he turned at the sound.
Bad idea…
Within a couple of seconds, he was disarmed, his right arm was forced behind him, and he was pushed against the back wall.
He strangely felt like a criminal and that the person holding him to the wall was an officer. But he shook his head of the thought and struggled with his attacker, making it difficult for them to keep both a good grip on his arm and weigh him to the wall.
Once he felt the attacker's hands loosen, he kicked back and turned to land a punch on the person who was so busy dodging the kick they didn't see the punch coming.
The distinctly male figure stumbled back from the hit.
He smirked. "Just because you took away an officer's gun, doesn't mean they're defenseless." He stated, straightening his jacket and tie. "Now did you do this?" He asked pulling out his secondary, much smaller gun and pointing it at the recovered criminal. His attacker looked at him from the shadows with striking, gold eyes. They glittered with amusement and the slight smile shown sharp canines in the dim light.
His hands tightened around the gun nervously, but a scowl settled on his face to mask it.
"Answer me! Did you do this!?" He yelled out.
The sound of some objects hitting the floor and sliding to his feet answered him. He glanced down before picking them up, all the while keeping the gun trained. He looked at the red-dotted items in the light and he felt his anger increase. Placing the objects back on the ground, he ordered the bastard to not move as he marched over, gun still aimed.
Every step had a different memory, a different thought, and he gritted his teeth.
"That was Spencer's necklace, Guster's watch, and O'Hara's bracelet. Where are they?"
Even this close, he couldn't see any detailing features of the man, but they were looking eye to eye and saw the man's slight smile widened.
"Where are they?" He repeated with deadly fervor, grabbing the man's collar with his left hand and pulling him closer.
Suddenly, the length of his left arm started to burn and he cried out in surprise before losing his grip. The man knocked the gun from his hand and pushed him back. Stumbling a bit, he cradled his arm to see three scratches bleeding profusely through his sleeves. Looking back, the man was still smiling and now held up a blood stained hand. Long nails adore the man's fingers and he backed away in shocked. Licking his fingers, the man followed leaving the darker shadows, and he scowled at the person's identity.
"Bear." He growled, standing his ground.
The man paused in his stride and dropped the smile into a glare.
It was that lackey of Leo alright, but his overall appearance was screaming 'different' and he couldn't help, but take notice of the extra features from which he took his namesake: the extra-long nails, sharp canines, and rounded furry ears.
Pushing away the pain and shock, he took a fighting stance.
His companions were somewhere hurt or worse. He had to find them, even if it meant he had to fight this freak show hand to hand, and make him tell him where they were.
Torture wasn't totally beneath him or the idea of ripping those fake ears and teeth from his head.
As if his thoughts were spoken out loud, Bear released a loud roar before charging at him with long claws out. He quickly sidestepped allowing Bear to fly pass him. He grunted and grasped his chest when he felt more scratches on his chest.
"He's fast. On second thought, where is my gun?"
Scanning the floor, he spotted one in a locked cell.
"Damn. Too far away."
He sidestepped another charge, receiving another set of scratches on his back. He grunted staring at his attacker, blue to honey-brown, before Bear charged again. He stood his ground, barely dodging the claw to his chest.
He punched Bear in the jaw. The hit didn't have as big of an affect as before and he stood dumbfounded for a few seconds, which gave Bear the perfect opportunity to pushed him to the ground and put a heavy boot on his chest.
He clawed at the boot trying to push it off his chest and he gasped as the force on his chest grew heavy. Black edge in his vision from the lack of air, but he tried to will it back as much as he could.
"I can't lose to him." He clenched his teeth.
Suddenly, the pressure jerked away leaving him feeling slightly drained and gasping for air. Slowly standing up, he watched Bear, who seemed to be struggling with something around his neck.
"What's going on?"
His eyes focused on the tangle of black shadows wrapped around Bear's neck. His gaze slowly slid around the room to see it grow suddenly dark with flailing shadows.
"What the hell?" He asked himself, backing away from the sight.
There was only one exit and that exit was behind whatever that dark mass was. He was not about to go running toward it unless he had to. It seemed perfectly content with having Bear in its clutches and he'd be damn if he let it have him.
So he stayed clinging to the back wall hoping the thing would turn and leave. But it didn't. Instead the shadows seemed to grow close, twist, and form a figure with a hand still gripping Bear's throat.
He watched as the shadow figure threw Bear against the cell bars and smashed him against the floor. Bear stayed on his stomach groaning. The figure then grabbed Bear by one of his arms and slowly pulled it up as far as it would go.
He knew what was about to happen making it hard to look away.
But the mass just froze as if waiting for something. Glowing eyes glanced at him from the black. It seemed the figure wanted something from him because he watched in panic as branches of shadow stretched out to him across the floor. He jumped away hitting his back against the wall. He cursed as it slithered up his legs and arms, up his torso, and stop at his neck.
He tried to move, but found he couldn't. It felt ice cold and his body shivered from the dark caressing.
"What do you want?" It asked. He paused in his struggle.
"What do I want?" He asked to himself, not really finding it strange that the thing just talked to him inside his head.
He stared at the restrained Bear.
The answer appeared without much effort.
He wanted them to pay for all the stuff they did to him…
He glanced down at the red dotted items piled on the floor.
And to his associ-, no friends. He could honestly call them friends now.
Deep anger was evident on his face, his eyes locked with the now gold eyes of the figure.
A torrent of images and feelings passed between them within a second leaving him feeling both drained and depressed.
It smirked at him with sharp teeth contrasting from the black.
He felt like he had seen this before, but he couldn't remember from where. His mind was becoming muddled and his energy suddenly felt low. He couldn't look away as the figure turned its attention back to Bear.
With a quick jerk and a horrible pop, a cry of pain echoed through the cell block and he couldn't help the small smile from spreading across his face, the same smile he had seen on Bear's face a minute ago.
And it didn't stop there; it continued to pull at the arm making the ligaments give and the appendage tear away from the body. Bear screamed bloody murder with red quickly spreading across the floor. Dropping the smile, he watched the crimson pool in diluted amazement.
A sudden deep cold washed over him and he gasped before his numb legs gave out, but the shadows keep him suspended in the air. He lifted his dazed eyes back to the scene.
Dropping the arm, the figure lifted Bear off the floor and pushed him against the cell bars.
Gold eyes again smirked at him as the shadow leaned giving Bear a look over before biting into his neck and ripping it open. Dark red flowed freely as Bear drowned in his blood. The figure let go and the big man collapsed in a pile on the floor, struggling to keep his precious fluids from escaping.
He coughed slightly suddenly tasting copper. He felt some liquid drip from his mouth and he looked down to see drops of red stain the cement. Shocked, he looked up as soft footsteps came toward him. The shadowed figure was becoming more and more distinct the closer it came.
It stopped inches from him and his eyes widened with recognition.
"No, no, no…" He repeated trying to get his legs to push him away or maybe help him melt into the wall. Anything to get away from it.
The man was smiling with red smear across its face. It lifted a blood-covered hand and he pulled away.
"I'm only doing what you want." It said dully, dropping the smile.
He shook his head, somehow finding a way to reenergize his hand to grab the wrist before its hand touched his face.
Another wave of cold passed through him and his hand dropped to his side in numbness. He glanced at the betraying arm before looking at the man with horror.
"You want them dead." It said swiping its wet hand softly across his cheek, down his neck, and settling at his chest, out of sight. "I'll make sure they're dead…" Its eyes looked at him and smirked before pushing its hand forward. "And anyone who interferes."
He gasped at the sudden strange sensation which quickly escalated to immense pain and deep iciness. He gritted his teeth to keep from screaming while its smirk grew toothy with gold eyes sparkling. And as the world around him grew slowly dark, he vaguely noticed a burning feeling starting to intermix with the ice and the thing start to disappear in black mist.
AN: Updates will be once or twice a week now: Wednesdays and Saturdays
