Disclaimer: I don't own Elfen Lied. Everything in the Elfen Lied universe belongs to Lynn Okamoto. However, all of the original characters in this story belong to me.
Summary: Elfen Lied has ended with Lucy's death. But the story lives on so long as the Diclonius Virus spreads. This is the story of Michael Mordare, the first Diclonius born in America. And more importantly, this is the story of the first male Diclonius born outside of captivity. This is the story of Michael's descent into madness, and the beginning of Samael.
Warnings: This is rated T for bad language, drug referencing, intense dark themes, and gruesome murders.
Author's Notes: Guess who's back?
I'm back.
Angel of Massacre
Chapter Thirty-Six: Twisted Reflection
[Day Six (6) of Investigation, Case# 004210-0659 2:24PM]
The elevator doors slid open and let Jessica Hawker out into the bee-hive known as the Toledo Police Department. On the days where Jessie is feeling somewhat dramatic, the tapping of keyboard keys sound like music. Other days, where she feels down-to-earth, the chaotic noise sounds more like work. This was one of those latter days. With a moderately hot Styrofoam cup of coffee in hand, Jessica took in a breath and dove into the fray.
A minute later and Jessica had managed to her desk without spilling her mocha. The day was off to a good start. She slipped into her chair and set the cup on a paper saucer. She brushed her red hair with her nails and settled into her environment. For the moment, Jessica was in her element.
No sooner than she relaxed did Jared swing a wheeled chair beside her desk and straddle it. He stared intensely at Jessica's face while stroking his black goatee. Jessica avoided his stare for as long as possible. That turned out to be about three seconds. "What are you doing that for?" she snapped.
A well-natured smirk appeared. "There's something different about you today." Jared said mysteriously.
Jessica sighed in defeat and replied. "Is it because I don't have deep bags under my eyes anymore?"
"I'm also detecting a return of your short temper."
"Alright, I give up. I got a good night's sleep, okay?"
The smirk spread into an open grin. "How many hours did you get?"
"My fiancé said it was twelve hours."
Jared whistled in astonishment. "I saw you last night. You definitely needed that sleep. You weren't acting like yourself."
"How was that?" Jessica was genuinely curious how Jared thought she normally acted.
"For one thing, you fell asleep in the middle of an investigation." the Egyptian-American teased.
"I did no such thing!" Jessie replied hotly. Her cheeks burned in embarrassment.
"Yes, you did! Richard and I were talking and you were sitting in your car, snoring like a baby!" Jared laughed.
"I was merely resting my eyes." She sipped on her coffee and found it too sweet.
Jared spun in his chair and chortled "You just admitted to sleeping on the job. I could get you written up."
Jessica wasn't concerned that Jared was going to follow through with his "threat". Nonetheless, she had to admit to herself that she had burned herself out quicker than usual. Lucas had almost forbidden her from going to work until she promised to stick to a sleep schedule. Jessica wasn't completely committed to her promise, but she was going to give it a try. No more chaining all-nighters one after the other.
This investigation had turned into a war of attrition. Samael's Army, heaven forbid it was actually true, had left only the merest scraps behind in its wake. Jessica had just walked in the door, so she wasn't sure how the vomit samples had proceeded yet. So far, that puke was the only concrete thing the department had to work with. The current strategy was to wait and see when the next slip-up would occur. If there wasn't a body found tomorrow, then this would be the first actual break between killings.
Meanwhile, in the world of news media, nothing could be going better. Jessica couldn't help but feel a stab of anger at how far reporters and cameramen were willing to exploit the victims. The tear-stricken faces of those left behind, including Shakira Nelson, were displayed for the world to see. Fact of the matter was, Jessie had the gut-wrenching feeling that she was letting people down because she hasn't brought in Samael yet. Seeing all those broken families only served to drive this home. Her resentment at the reporters was third only to her disappointment at herself, which in turn was second to her anger at Samael himself.
Then Jessie remembered Agent Raven. She turned to Jared and asked "Where is Agent Raven?"
Jared tilted his head in the direction of Chief Isaac's office. "Tall, dark, and gloomy is with the Chief. We were actually waiting on you so that we could have a meeting with the whole department. He said he wasn't going to have a meeting without the lead detective. That would be you, for your information."
Jessica put her coffee down and propped her elbow on her desk. "Thanks, I've forgotten that I'm the one who bears all the responsibility."
He stepped out of the chair, out of Jessie's reach, and said "Better you than me. I'd like to still have a career after this whole fiasco is over."
Jessica considered kicking the chair at Jared's shins, but then decided that would be immature. Jessica watched Jared retreat back to his desk, then stood up and walked toward Chief Isaac's office. Along the way, she noticed the tall figure of Agent Raven standing in the chief's doorway. The FBI agent appeared to be just leaving the chief's company. Jessica stopped to wonder what the two of them had been discussing. As she stood in silence, Agent Raven turned his grey eyes and directed his piercing gaze at Jessie. Immediately, Raven walked up to her and spoke.
"Chief Isaac and I have been waiting for you." He spoke in a flat voice and then fell silent. Jessica thought that he was waiting for her reply, so she spoke in turn.
"What were you waiting on me for?" she said hesitantly.
"There is going to be a department-wide meeting to detail the Samael Murderer's case." The FBI agent never broke his neutral tone of voice. "I mentioned this yesterday."
Raven fell silent again. Jessica resigned herself to the fact that this man would never continue a conversation by himself. "Alright, when is this meeting taking place?"
"The chief will address the department as soon as he has had a word with you."
"So you're saying the chief wants to have a word with me?" Jessica suddenly had an extreme dislike for his manner of speaking. Raven never said more than he needed to, forcing Jessica to question him every time. She was getting the impression that the FBI agent was not used to conversing like a normal human being. Either that or he was deliberately being difficult. Jessica couldn't think of a reason for the latter, so she assumed the former.
"Yes, that is what I said." A hint of annoyance colored his otherwise flat voice. Jessica stepped around Agent Raven and opened the Chief of Investigation's office door. The chief himself was sitting behind his desk, wearing a dark expression. As soon as Jessie let herself in, Chief Isaac's face brightened with a wiry smile.
"You were just talking to our guest, weren't you?" Isaac said. Jessie sat herself into a chair and exhaled a breath she wasn't aware she was holding.
"How can you tell?" Jessica asked angrily.
"Your face is red and you slammed my door shut."
Her shoulders slumped; Jessie slouched down and rubbed her hot face. "It wasn't as though I needed another reason to solve this case fast. I swear that guy is the most… aggravating man I have ever worked with." She held her hands up and throttled the air in front of her neck.
Isaac chuckled. "I know what you mean. If I had a nickel for each time I heard the word 'classified' today, I could retire early."
"Agent Raven aside, was there something you wanted to talk to me about?" Jessica asked.
The chief stood up and walked over to his window. He stared out of it, back turned to Jessica. With a defeated sigh, he spoke in a solemn tone. "Things aren't looking good. It's been six days and not a single break has come up. In fact, the F.B.I. seems to believe that this is going to get worse. If these killers are really recruiting, then we could be facing a blood bath in the streets."
Jessica hung her head. There wasn't anyone who she looked up to more than Isaac, especially since her father's imprisonment. For Jessica, nothing was worse than disappointing Chief Isaac. He never raised his voice or struck his desk. All he did was stare morosely out the window with his hands behind his back. Jesse felt her heart drop into her stomach.
It did not matter one bit that Jessica was doing her very best. The only thing that mattered was the fact that she had not yet caught those killers. Her job was not to 'do her best', it was to catch killers. If her best was not enough, then Jessica was failing her job and her boss. Isaac was like a father to her, but he wasn't being paid to be her father. His job was to make sure Jessica performed her job, not to reassure Jessica when her best was not enough. The real world did not reward hard work, only hard results. The investigation has been going on for six days. If the puke samples fell through, then there were no leads, no suspects, and only one witness. This was the most hopeless case, the sort of case that left careers in ruins. Although Jessica was loath to admit it, Jared was right about one thing. All of the responsibility fell on Jessica's slender shoulders should the killers strike again and again.
The quiet between chief and detective drew on for what seemed to be hours. Finally, Chief Isaac broke his silence. He did not move from the window as he spoke. "The investigation is circling the drain. Every day these killers make a corpse out of an innocent. The worst part is that those vultures of the press are starting to point toward our…"
Isaac turned and looked at the expression on Jessica's face. The chief sighed and left the last word unspoken. It didn't matter; Jessica knew that the word was 'failures'. There was no other way to put it. The Chief of Investigations left his window and sat behind his desk, his hands steepled in front of his face. Then he began to speak again.
"We need to reassure the public that we are capable of keeping them safe. The Mayor has asked for a public statement to the press. It would be best if you were to be the one to deliver the statement."
Inwardly, Jessica chafed at the idea of public speaking. However, Jessie's reluctance for public speaking was far beaten out by her eagerness at restoring her standing with the Chief. If there was a chance to please Chief Isaac, then she would jump through any hoop.
"I'll do it." Jessica said definitively. "But I do want to know why I am the best candidate for addressing the press."
Isaac nodded his head at her first sentence and then replied to her second. "For one thing, you're a familiar face for the press." This was true enough. When Jessica arrested her own father, the local and national media latched onto her story. Jessica's arrest was all over the headlines and Internet news posts for a long while. It wasn't a pleasant experience for Jessica, however. Every day was a constant reminder that she had put her father behind bars.
The Chief continued speaking, "For another thing, you are the lead investigator of this case. The last reason is that the media love a pretty face, if you don't mind me saying." Isaac smiled sheepishly, which served to utterly demolish the tense atmosphere that had been building.
Jessica smiled a little bit, partly out of relief and partly because she didn't mind the complement. "Okay, I said I would do it. But I don't know what to say to the press. We certainly can't divulge information about the progress of the case."
Still smiling, Chief Isaac reached for a couple pages on the top of his paper pile. He handed them to Jessica and said "The mayor had his campaign manager write this script for you. Just stick to the script and say 'no comment' to everything else." Jessica accepted the script and began to read it. It was simple enough, if a bit on the hokey side. "You can memorize the script during the department meeting I've set up."
"It says here," Jessica pressed a fingernail against the text "I'm supposed to introduce Agent Raven. Will he be making a speech too?"
Isaac turned his head back and forth. "I don't think that Agent Raven is suited for speeches." That settled the matter.
At that point, the Chief stood up and lead Jessica out of the office. Jessica walked past Isaac and strolled her way toward the conference room. Along the way she plucked a red pen off of Jared's desk, eliciting a disapproving remark from the Egyptian-American. Any pen stolen by Hawker was likely never returned.
The conference room was fairly large, designed to seat over a hundred people. All of the seats were facing in the same direction toward a whiteboard. As it turned out, this whiteboard was the same one Jessica had been writing on, so it was already covered in red marker text and photographs. Jessica found a seat in the front of the conference room. The Chief marshaled the entire homicide department into the spacious room while Jessica wrote around the margins of the papers. Someone sat down in the seat directly to Jessica's left. She turned her head and found that it was the stoic F.B.I. agent. He didn't even look at her, instead chose to stare ahead at the whiteboard.
Jared ended up sitting behind her and Sherman was stuck in the corner of the room. As soon as everyone was seated, the Chief addressed everyone. "Now that everyone is seated, we can start this meeting. First things first, Agent Raven of the F.B.I. will be joining our investigation. He asked that he be allowed to speak first so that he can reveal the purpose of his involvement."
Isaac stood aside and gestured to the F.B.I. agent. Raven stood up and walked to the front of the room.
[Day Six (6) of Investigation, Case# 004210-0659 5:58PM]
The meeting had ended half an hour ago. So much had been discussed and revealed. There was still a lot for Jessica to digest. But there wasn't any time to reflect on the new information. For her, the meeting had gone by too quickly. She only had a shaky grasp of the speech she was going to deliver. Fortunately, Jared had been sitting behind her. His constant critiquing had helped Jessica cross out a number of lines. Most of the removed parts were unnecessary filibuster or sections that sounded like they belonged to a political campaign. Given that this was written by the mayor's campaign manager, well, those parts are no longer in the speech. Chief Isaac had approved of her changes.
Jessica was standing outside of the department with an army of reporters with cameramen standing in front of her. Standing beside her was Agent Raven and Chief Isaac. The African-American chief of investigation gave Jessica a reassuring squeeze on her shoulder. Agent Raven didn't look at her for more than a couple seconds. In a matter of moments, Chief Isaac would introduce her and stand aside for her speech. Agent Raven didn't have anything to do besides stand where he could be seen. He was already wearing his sunglasses again.
As the podium was set up by the news crew, Jessica leaned in toward the chief "Have I ever mentioned how much I hate public speeches?"
"Nobody can go through life avoiding the things they hate." Isaac replied.
One of the news crew gave Jessica the thumbs up before retreating out of the limelight. She stiffened her upper lip and walked up to the podium.
Meanwhile…
"Well, this outta be interesting."
I was standing outside on the sidewalk. Towering in front of was the Toledo Police Department. The overcast skies were heavy with imminent snow. I had made it this far without any traumatizing mental breakdowns, I was regaining my confidence. At this moment, there were a huge number of humans standing beside me, completely oblivious of the non-human in their midst.
My hood was pulled over my horns and crimson hair. I ran my fingers around the collar of my jacket, playing with the idea of pulling down my hood. But there was nothing to be gained by exposing my horns just yet. There was a time and a place.
This time and this place had a different purpose. At this time, at this place, there was a horde of reporters squawking around the police department. They reminded me of a murder of crows, begging with shrill screams for a bloody piece of gristle to chew on. Their numbers were so great that the entire block had to be shut down to civilian cars. Erie Street was congested with news vans. Apparently, there was going to be a public speech about the Samael killers, about me. For the first time, I was actually cautious of the police. They must have found something if they were going to finally address the press.
"You worry too much, Michael. Don't fear the law; they have no power over you."
My insanity stood on the streetlamp above me, his loose bandages draped around the steel. I didn't reply, not with this many people around. More homo sapiens joined the growing throng of humans standing around me. I simply stood in place and watched with bated breath. It occurred to me that I was actually less than a mile away from the Main Library. I could easily watch this event from a televised perspective.
I was about to decide whether to stay or leave when it happened.
Sarah Mordare stepped up to the podium.
But how—
My breathing stopped.
My heart stopped.
My mind froze.
I couldn't move, couldn't focus, couldn't—She's dead she's dead she's dead she's dead she's dead she's dead she's dead she's dead she's dead she's dead she's dead—
Lungs itching; chest on fire; stomach churning; how is she here; please someone explain to me; how is my dead mother right there; oh no, no, no I can't—
I couldn't—I wasn't able to— breathe fuck it—shit—shit—shit—ah fuck—
The Darkness—
whose darkness mine or his
—poured into my vision and stained my sight black— blacker than the deepest pit—It was darker than pitch black—what was going on—The Darkness was a Pit deeper than anything conceivable by the human mind—what was Sarah Mordare—mommy—please don't die—
Everything shattered like—she smiled so hard her face split open as—a bullet passing through a window—pain was all I knew—Why was Sarah Mordare still—breathe god damn it—
My fractured mind simply could not get past the fact that Sarah Mordare was standing—she's dead she's dead she's dead she's dead she's dead— I couldn't believe my eyes. Stop it stop it please let me off fucking shit—
not with a bang
a whimper
"Snap out of it you weak shit!" Samael screamed in my face. Untempered hatred twisted his—my—face like iron in a furnace. Lung burning— "Look at her you fucking idiot! That's not your bitch mother!"
Air rushed into my lungs. It tasted as sweet as candy. Suddenly everything became clear. Mom was dead; nothing was going to change that. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling hot water on my eyelids falling down my cheeks. Then I opened my red eyes and stared directly at "Sarah Mordare". Even with a clear head, the similarities between my dead mother and this woman were uncanny. The shapes of their faces were very similar. The biggest and most immediate difference was the eyes and the hair. Mother's natural hair color was chestnut while this woman had red hair.
Still, there was something that gave me pause. Oh right, Mother did have red hair at one point. When she and I were living in that trailer park, Mother dyed her hair red. It was too messy back then to recall whether it was short or long, but it looked short. There were differences in the eyes as well. Color-wise, the eyes were very similar. Mom had hazel eyes while this woman had emerald eyes. But it was the overall feel of her expression that separated her from Mom. This woman's eyes were hard, completely different from Mom's gentle expression. The similarities were uncanny, but they were not perfect reflections.
How could I have been so stupid? My hands were still shaking from the shock of it all. All of the confidence that I had built up over the course of the day had been dashed. I still didn't know what exactly set off my triggers. A passing similarity to my mother had been enough to trigger a minor episode. Was I safe now that I was firmly aware that this woman was not Sarah Mordare? If only I knew her name—
"…I give you Jessica Hawker." I heard someone speak. I hadn't even been paying attention. I looked up from my quivering pale hands toward the podium. A black man in a suit had been addressing the press for a short duration. The African-American detective stood aside and the Sarah Mordare-lookalike took the stage. When she spoke, I was able to hear her.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the press, for the past six days the greater city of Toledo has been plagued by a menace…"
So, her name is Jessica Hawker. She was just another unimportant human with an unimportant name. I looked up at my dark reflection. The crowd around me was dense enough that I could speak freely without being overheard.
I opened my mouth slightly and whispered. "I think I'm done here. I can catch the speech later. I think it's about time I started looking for my next target."
The bandaged fragment of my shattered mind stared at the woman—at Jessica Hawker as she continued her speech. The words weren't important, at least I thought so. But Samael's gaze didn't waver. There was a look in his cerulean eyes, a hunger that I knew too well.
"You don't have to look far for the perfect victim. I know exactly who we should kill tonight."
Jessica Hawker continued to address the reporters. I stepped back and slid out of the host of unimportant humans, only glancing back to cast a look of pity toward the poor woman.
End Chapter Thirty-six: Twisted Reflection
My readers,
Not a day goes by that I don't think of my story. When I first started writing this dark tome, I was still in high school. But before that, I had spent two summers working out the basic plot and characters. This past summer, I revisited my future chapters and found them wanting. I have spent every day for the past few weeks working out a new story, a new direction that I want Michael Mordare to walk.
My efforts and your patience have paid off.
Now my story now free from unnecessary filler and confusing contradictions. Future chapters will be much more coherent compared to my original draft. Instead of changing the story as I wrote it, I managed to get ahead of myself and paved the path toward a finale I never thought I would get to. The final chapter of Angel of Massacre has just become much closer. Every word I write brings this twisted braid to its inevitable conclusion.
May your heart be steeled when that fateful day finally arrives,
Numbnut10