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: It's been less than four months and I'm already updating? Could this be the start of something beautiful? Could this be the start of something horrible? Can something be equal parts daydream and nightmarish?

This chapter is one of my longer ones. Consider it a token of affection from an ambitious author.

Angel of Massacre

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Never Forgotten Night

[Day Six (6) of Investigation, Case# 004210-0659 8:12PM]

I leaned back as far as I could in the stiff chair, stretching my legs until they bumped against the back of the desk. For a moment, I simply held that position while listening to the tick-tack of keyboards around me. There was something rather calming about the sound of hard-drives spinning. That constant whirring was like white noise; it threatened to lull me to sleep. I haven't slept since before my breakdown.

A young female voice spoke from the intercom. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Toledo Main Library will be closing in fifteen minutes. Please make your last transactions at the front entrance."

My knees popped as I stood up from the computer desk. I had spent the better part of the day preparing for the task ahead of me. I had watched the entire speech that Jessica Hawker had delivered earlier today. There was no news about their progress in my case, which didn't really surprise me. What did surprise me was when she introduced an FBI agent who had apparently just joined the task force. It was a tall white-haired man in a suit named Raven. He even had the stereotypical black sunglasses you would imagine a federal agent wearing.

I whispered under my breath "Wouldn't it be better to go after the FBI agent? It seems to me like he would be the bigger target." According to my reasoning, killing a federal agent would ignite a response by the federal government. That would definitely be something Noah would want to avoid. The added pressure could be just the thing to push him into action.

The recipient of my whisper was silent. Then he spoke in a neutral tone "That's not a bad idea. But there's no way to find out where he's staying at."

I was taken back. I wasn't expecting him to agree with me. On the other hand, we were able to look up Jessica Hawker's address. It was on the outskirts of the city, though it wasn't as far as Robert Walker's house. It was such a quaint little neighborhood. It probably has never had a crime worse than a broken mailbox. Tonight, it would be soaked in the blood of a woman whose only sin was catching the eye of my madness. Before long, that quaint little neighborhood will be cast in the shade by a flock of ravenous scavengers. I don't know what was the cruelest part, the murder or the murder of crows.

I stepped out of the library. A heavy spell of white buffered against my face, cold pricks of ice brought my cheeks to a red hue. I pressed my palms up to my mouth and exhaled a warm misty cloud. The snow had been falling all day in alternating bouts of heavy and heavier flurries. My fingers were frozen solid, it felt like. I fumbled with my hoodie strings, trying to tighten the light cloth against the dark night. Failing that, I simply wrapped my body with a number of ethereal arms.

There wasn't any need to worry about cutting my jacket with my vectors; it seems as though there was a minimum range where my vectors could not become tangible. The range was just above my skin where skin was exposed, but even further out where there was clothing. My working theory was that my vector's minimal range was determined by my spatial awareness. Perhaps if I were to think of my body and my clothes as separate things, my minimal range would shorten down to skin level. It wasn't something I was keen on experimenting on, especially since these were my only clothes.

I pointed my feet toward Hotel Carter and my mind to the subject of murder. Despite my preparations, there was reason for reservations. I kept my voice to a hushed tone. "I think it's a bad idea to go after someone who looks like Mom. I still don't know what will trigger another breakdown."

Suddenly, an ice cold hand gripped my chin and I was forced to stare at the bandaged visage of my insanity. Samael's indigo eyes were liquid nitrogen, so cold that I couldn't even shiver. He drew his grey lips back into a snarl and growled in my face, "There's no way this Hawker bitch will make you any troubles. She won't trigger a breakdown because she doesn't look a thing like your dead mother."

Was it possible that Samael had apperceptive prosopagnosia, the inability to make connections between different faces? The thought was almost enough to make me laugh. Was I so completely insane that even my insanity suffered from mental conditions? The brief moment of amusement was gone as fast as it came, snatched away by a sudden breath of winter. I closed my eyes and inhaled a lungful of chilled air. I exhaled a balmy cloud of moisture and opened my eyes. There were no emotions within the blood-red windows of my heart.

My footsteps in the white snow lead all the way back to Hotel Carter, where they disappeared without a trace.

[Day Six (6) of Investigation, Case# 004210-0659 9:48PM]

The precinct was strangely quiet tonight. Most everyone had left before 9PM, leaving the late nighters alone in the silence. Jessica felt sort of guilty that she was already breaking her promise to Lucas to get to sleep sooner. However, she always did her best work at night, where the station was peaceful and quiet.

"I'll say I'm sorry when I see him later. I've got too much to accomplish tonight."

That being said, Jessica was not accomplishing much at all. The whiteboard before her was still maddeningly bare. The word "Motivation" was written in red and underlined. Underneath it was a great big question mark. The word "Suspects" was similarly red and underlined and empty. To her chagrin, the only sections that had anything filled out were "Victims" and "Theories". Just looking at the victims, Jessica was able to tell that Samael did not exclude any race or age from his or their murder sprees.

"At the very least, we can safely say that the Samael killers aren't racist." Jessica's thoughts were becoming more derisive than usual. She stood up and walked over to the whiteboard. In an uncharacteristic convulsion of disappointment, she grabbed the red marker and slashed a great big circle around "Suspects". Then she doodled a horned devil with a villainous mustache before tossing the marker across the room. All of that had only succeeded to vent a small percentage of Jessie's frustrations.

A great big breath expelled out of Jessica's lips as she deposited her buttocks into a chair. She was going nowhere with this case, but there was something that she could do in the meantime. She tilted her head and rested it against the top of the chair; her red hair hanged freely as she stared at the ceiling. Before the speech, Jessica didn't have time to reflect upon the events of the department-wide meeting. But now that the precinct was silent, there wasn't any better time.

Chief Isaac had led the beginning of the meeting and used it to formally introduce Agent Raven to the whole department…

[Day Six (6) of Investigation, Case# 004210-0659 3:04PM]

The moment that Agent Raven stood beside the Chief, Jessica realized just how tall he was. He was easily six feet tall, if not a couple inches taller. Isaac was not a short man, yet the F.B.I. agent stood a head taller than him. When he looked back at his audience, there was not a trace of affability in his eyes. He opened his mouth and spoke in a straight tone. "I have been assigned to aid in the Samael killer case until either it closes or until I am reassigned. The F.B.I. will not be making any arrests or taking any credit for this case."

He had spent no time on introductions or saying anything about himself. During that time, Jessica had been trying to memorize the speech in her hands while listening to the federal agent. However, that proved impossible as soon as Agent Raven spoke again.

Jared raised his hand from behind Jessica. Without waiting for the agent's permission, the Egyptian-American spoke up. "Hey, do you know how long you're gonna be helping us in this case? It would really suck if you were reassigned before—"

The federal agent interrupted Jared with a simple, but powerful sentence. "You have a mole in your investigation."

Immediately Raven had the entire department's full attention. Jared's hand fell to his side. Jessica even forgot about the speech in her lap. His piercing grey eyes swept across the crowd like a scythe. Then he strode over to the whiteboard with a vanilla envelope in his hands. Jessica hadn't noticed it before. Raven reached into the envelope and pulled out a number of small white papers. When he spread them across the board, Jessica realized that they were photographs.

Each one of the photographs was one that Jessica had seen before. They were all taken from the blood-soaked crime-scenes that Samael had left in his wake. There were numerous photographs of the bodies, the handprints, and even one of the WE ARE SAMAEL message. Raven stood beside the whiteboard with his hands behind his back. Apparently he was waiting for someone to say something.

For once, Jessica was not the one to ask the obvious question. Jared held his hand up again "Alright, I'll bite. What do those pictures have to do with our so-called mole problem?"

Agent Raven cleared his throat and said "The details of this investigation are supposed to be secret. So far, the only information made public is the self-proclaimed name "Samael", the possible number of killers involved, and the handprint signature." Agent Raven paused again, but didn't wait to begin speaking again. "However, the F.B.I. found these pictures on the Internet. A simple search for Samael Killers on the Google Image search will lead you to these very photographs."

There was another poignant pause; then "Someone in this investigation team is leaking photographs to the public." Agent Raven's eyes darted back and forth, as if he were trying to find a guilty expression in the crowd in front of him.

Jared sucked in a sudden breath. The federal agent trained his grey eyes on the Egyptian-American detective. Ishtar grinned uneasily and scratched at his beard. "I found those pics on the Internet as well. I didn't think anything of it." He explained slowly. "I knew that we were being tight-lipped about the whole deal. But I had no idea that we had a mole leaking pictures."

The federal agent looked at the Egyptian-American with piercing eyes. An age passed while Jared could do nothing but sweat under the federal agent's intense gaze. Then Chief Isaac coughed into his fist and spoke up. "I'll vouch for Jared Ishtar's innocence. He may be a brilliant detective, but he's a terrible liar." Then Isaac chuckled, "You outta try playing cards with him. I've seen his poker face; it's as transparent as glass. You can practically read his cards in his eyes."

After a moment of silent consideration, Agent Raven returned to the whiteboard and studied the pictures. Taking advantage of moment, Jessica turned in her chair and looked at Jared. "So you knew about those pics, and it didn't occur to you that there was a problem?"

"That's exactly right!" Jared held his hands up in defense. "The idea of a mole never crossed my mind. We've never had this happen before, am I right?"

Detective Hawker turned back in her seat. In her head though, a thousand thoughts were racing. "Is the mole an intern who just joined the department? Or could it be someone who has been in the precinct for a long time?" Jessica didn't want to think that the mole could be anyone she has worked with before. "How is the mole taking the pictures? Is he sneaking pictures with a camera phone? Those pictures don't seem like camera phone quality. Could it be someone with a high grade photographer? How on earth would they be able to take those pictures without anyone noticing? It wouldn't be possible unless…"

Jessica's hand shot in the air. Agent Raven looked away from the photographs on the white board and focused his grey eyes on her. He didn't say a word, which Jessica took as permission to speak. "Do you think that the mole could be someone on the forensics team?" Jessie said "Maybe he's one of the forensic photographers?"

Agent Raven replied coolly "Thank you for your input." Then he looked at Chief Isaac, who had been sitting in a chair beside the rest of the detectives. Isaac stood up and walked up to the front of the room. The federal agent wordlessly stepped aside and took a place in the corner of the room.

Jessica glanced around the room and spotted the Richard Herman standing behind everyone else. His expression was troubled, for obvious reasons. As the lead forensic investigator, Richard was in charge of all of the forensic photographers. If any of them turned out to be the mole, Richard would be held accountable for letting the mole on his team. Looking at his distress, Jessica felt guilty about casting suspicion to Richard's forensic team. It probably wasn't a good idea to begin pointing fingers. She certainly didn't want to hurt the investigation team's solidarity.

With a small sigh, Jessica returned to the speech paper in her lap.

[Day Six (6) of Investigation, Case# 004210-0659 9:50PM]

A sudden sound brought Jessica to the present. She stood up to face the sound and found herself making eye contact with Agent Raven. With a start she realized that he may have been standing in the room for the whole time. In his left hand was a red marker. Jessie remembered her outburst with the marker and felt her cheeks redden in embarrassment. Raven merely stood as still as a statue. There were no wrinkles in his black suit, no crease in his sleeves, and not a blond-white hair out of place on his head. For some reason, Jessica didn't even feel as though she were looking at a human being. Everything about him was so, so robotic.

"I wish he would speak. Maybe if I just talk to him, he wouldn't seem so cold."

But to her surprise, it was Agent Raven that spoke first. "I have seen your face before." His voice was flat; his sentence was merely a statement. There was no indication that he was going to continue his thought. It felt to Jessica as though she could simply sit down and continue her work and Raven would not even attempt to pursue the conversation.

For a moment, Jessica almost did that very thing. But instead, she brushed her hair behind an ear and replied. "I think I know where you saw my face. It was at a recruitment drive or something, right?"

Raven's head nodded up and down. He clasped his hands in front of his waist, which was a visible sign that he was relaxing. His eyes were locked on her face, although she almost wished that he would look somewhere else. Hell, if he looked at her boobs at least she would know what he was thinking! Jessica has never had this much difficulty reading a person before.

Jessica realized that he was waiting for her to speak. It was so awkward; it felt like Raven only conversed by taking turns. He spoke, then she spoke, then he nodded and now it was her turn again.

"I used to be sort of famous back in the day. I was involved in… uh, a high profile case. I made the final arrest, which was my rise to fame. After that, my face was put on every law enforcement recruitment poster aimed at women." Jessica left out the detail about how her father was the person she arrested.

That turned out to be pointless.

"You were the woman who arrested her father." Agent Raven said bluntly.

"Oh no, please don't—" Jessica pleaded internally.

"I have had in interest in that case. I would like to ask you some questions."

Her heart dropped into her stomach. Now, even a year later, people were still trying to interview Jessica about the case that had put her father behind bars. Can't people understand that Jessica hated talking about it? Do people think that she liked arresting her dad? It wasn't a fucking picnic for her! It was a goddamn ordeal that didn't end after the final arrest. The ordeal has been going on and on for months on end.

"I don't mind." Jessica's mouth said to Raven. This was despite the rest of her body's desire to slap him across the face.

Raven strode over to the whiteboard with the red marker still in his hand. He placed it in the tray next to the other markers; then he fidgeted with them until all of the markers were facing the same direction. When he finally turned to Jessica, he said "How did you come to arrest your father?"

Jessica was thrown for a loop by his utter directness and could only respond with "What?"

Apparently, Raven had expected this reaction and clarified "You were a part of the case that led to your father's arrest. But you should have been removed from the investigation team the moment your father became a suspect. The case was clearly too personal to let you stay on the team. But in the end, it was you that made the final arrest. How did that happen?"

While he was speaking, Raven moved his hands in front of his torso and steepled his fingers. He turned his head slightly, angling one eye directly at Jessica. During a split second, Jessica almost imagined how a raven eyes its prey. At first her voice was faint, so she cleared her throat and tried again. "I didn't start off as part of the investigation team. In fact, when Davis Hawker was named a suspect in a murder case, I was told to take vacation time. I was asked to stay at home and wait by a phone in case he tried to call me."

The federal agent nodded his head up and down, his eye never left her. "So, did your father call you?"

A thought occurred to Jessica. "Raven said that he was interested in the case. The case was very public, so why doesn't he know what happened then? Did he not do any research at all?"

But out loud, "No, but I did come home to find him sitting at my kitchen table with a glass of Scotch."

Grey eyes blinked hard and Jessica found herself wondering again why Raven was so surprised. The trial was on public record and Jessica had already told this story before. If Raven had really been interested in the case before now, why hadn't he watched the videos?

"So you came home and your father was waiting for you?" For the first time, Raven actually sounded interested. Jessica narrowed her eyes, but continued.

"Yes. He simply poured me a glass. Then we drank and refilled each other's glasses. We didn't say anything to each other for two hours."

What Jessica couldn't put into words, for she was no wordsmith, was the tremulous emotions she had felt. Just hearing that her father was being investigated for murder had made Jessie emotionally shut down. When she found her father and drank in silence with him, there was an emptiness between them that was deeper than the Marianas Trench. Every sudden emotion that had threatened to topple that tranquility was thrown into that dark abyss. It took two hours before her emotions, and his as well, filled that trench to the brim. By the time she found her words, there was nothing left for her to say.

All that Davis said was "I'm sorry for everything."

However, Raven hadn't asked anything yet so all of this went unspoken. Perhaps this was for the better, for a small lump had formed in Jessica's throat. A short moment passed before Raven finally asked "What happened next?"

There was something sincerely wrong with Agent Raven's line of inquiry. Why was he digging up so many unpleasant memories? If all he wanted to know was Jessica's involvement, why was he asking for a blow-by-blow from her? The initial plan "talk to Raven and humanize him" was turning out to be a complete failure.

Jessica should have stopped the conversation there, but for some reason Raven giving her a suspicious vibe. If she simply stopped speaking to him altogether, then she would never find out what was going on. Jessie's instincts told her to break and run, her rational mind told her that he wasn't a threat and he was here to help.

The lump in her throat was dislodged with a short swallow. "I drove Davis to the precinct, handcuffed by his orders." Again, she left out some details. Jessica had almost forgotten to read Davis his Miranda Rights. He had to remind her before she walked him into the police center. If Davis had wanted to escape jail-time, then he could have easily held his silence.

"What happened after that?"

For a delirious second, Jessica actually enjoyed that Raven was practically dragging every word out of her mouth. The irony was only delicious for that moment, so Jessica decided to throw the entire story out at once. Maybe if Raven listened to how a normal human spoke, he would figure it out for himself.

"I turned Davis in for murder of the third degree. I thought that this was the end of my involvement. But as it turned out, Mr. Hawker still had a role for me to play. Before I left, I was told that he was refusing to confess.
At that point, I was starting to lose it. I thought he was turning himself in. I didn't understand what he was doing. I thought he was chickening out. Then they said that Davis wanted me to be present when he confessed. They told me that he wanted me to take his confession."

The memories were fresh, if not a bit hazy from the Scotch. Thinking back, Jessica was surprised that she wasn't arrested for driving while drunk. Apparently they thought that the smell of alcohol had come just from her father. Jessica was always very good at holding her liquor. Either that or the police were more concerned in Davis than Jessica.

Suddenly, Jessica was sick of talking about her father's arrest. She decided to finish it up in three sentences. "I went in the room. Davis Hawker confessed to me while I recorded it. The rest is… history."

At the last second, Jessica has almost substituted the last word with "public knowledge." A part of her wanted to call Raven out on his questioning. She still didn't understand why he pretended to be interested in her story. But, in the end, Jessica relented and kept her suspicions to herself. She remembered what happened when she recklessly cast suspicion at Richard Herman's team. Now the forensic team would be investigated and Herman would be in boiling water. Jessica didn't want to cast suspicion at anyone again, not even Agent Raven. If everyone became suspicious of each other, then nobody would be able to work together.

Silence reigned while Agent Raven said nothing. Jessica hoped that he would drop the subject. Again, her wishes were ignored.

"So your father made you listen to his confession. I wonder why that was." His sentence trailed off at the end.

An exasperated Hawker responded hotly. "I don't know! I never gave it any thought!" That was the furthest possible thing from the truth. Not a night went by where Jessica tried to figure out Davis's motives. Had Davis predicted Jessica's rise to fame from this case? Could he have done it because he wanted to boost Jessica's career? The murder itself was pure accident; it was a drunken brawl that ended fatally for one of the combatants. Davis certainly didn't do it on purpose, but had he twisted the end result so that it was beneficial for his daughter?

This thought alone made Jessica hate her father. She didn't want to be famous for this. However, the alternative was even more heart wrenching. What if Davis Hawker made Jessica take his confession for another purpose? What if he wanted to break his daughter's heart so thoroughly that she would hate him forever? Perhaps Davis thought that hate was a better alternative to heartbreak. The worst part was that it worked. Jessica couldn't even recall memories of her father without feeling a twinge of anger. All of her happiest memories of her father were blackened by the hurt and betrayal she now felt.

"For fuck's sake, when will Raven just give it a rest?" Jessica could feel her face getting redder. She turned away from the F.B.I. agent and glared at the whiteboard. Her back faced Agent Raven, so she didn't see his lips curl upward ever slightly.

As quick as it came, that unseen smirk gave way to "Do you have the time?"

Jessica instinctively pulled out her phone and said "It's just after ten o' clock, why?"

Agent Raven turned away and power walked out of the room. Jessie watched him leave the room and breathed a sigh of relief. She pressed her cool palms against her hot face. She mentally kicked herself for getting so worked up. This isn't the first time Jessica has met with an insensitive asshole. But somehow, Agent Raven wormed his way under her skin in a way that brought out the worst of her temper. Jessica resolved to tell Raven to fuck off if he questioned her about that case again. She may have to work with him, but she didn't have to be polite about it.

"I need a fucking drink." Jessica said in an outrageously cheerful voice. It felt good to hear her natural voice, as opposed to her 'barely suppressed anger' voice. While the precinct may not have a bar, the coffee machine was a reasonable facsimile in desperate hours. She stood up quickly, pushing the wheeled chair away from the desk. Her footfalls were strangely quiet as she strode through the precinct. The coffee machine was located in a quiet corner, away from all of the noise and traffic.

The female detective was turning a corner when she heard a voice. She quickly backpedaled until she was behind the corner. The voice was clearly Agent Raven and he sounded like he was talking to someone. Jessie suddenly began operating purely on the instincts she honed through years of police work. She flattened her back against the wall and inched her head around the corner. Agent Raven was standing beside the coffee machine, a cell phone up to his ear. He was facing away from Jessica, but his words were clear enough to make out.

"I'm doing exactly as you said, Mr. Brimstrome." Jessica could hear the strain in his voice. This was the first time she has ever heard him sound so anxious. It came as quite a shock to discover Raven was capable of emotions. This was nowhere near what came next, however.

"The investigation team thinks that it's a group of killers, like I said. They don't suspect a thing."

At that moment, Raven turned toward Jessica. She pulled back from the corner as fast as she could. Then she pushed herself to her feet and began creeping away from the break room. Her heart pounded in her breast. Each footstep sounded like cannon fire. The next corner was thirty meters away and Jessica kept glancing behind her.

Twenty-five meters away.

Twenty meters away.

Ten meters away.

As soon as Jessie reached the corner, she practically threw herself against it. One last glance toward the break room and Raven was nowhere in sight. She couldn't hear him speaking anymore. Her head was a thunderstorm of thoughts and she couldn't think straight.

"Why is Raven making secret phone calls?"

As soon as she reached her desk, she grabbed her jacket and made for the parking garage.

"What don't we suspect? Does Agent Raven know something we don't?"

The parking garage was deserted except for the police cars. She practically ran toward her two-door sedan.

"If it's not a group of killers, then what could Samael possibly be?"

She fumbled with her car keys for a second. Then she fit them in the ignition and twisted them. The car roared to life and in seconds Jessica was out of the precinct altogether.

"Isn't the director of the F.B.I. named Hartmann? Just who is Brimstrome?"

Jessica blew through a yellow light and drove off into the night.

"Just what is going on in this city?"

[Day Six (6) of Investigation, Case# 004210-0659 10:26PM]

Twenty minutes of reckless driving brought Jessica home. In that time, Jessica had come up with a plan. She would first investigate this Brimstrome fellow just to see if anyone important came up. Then she would write everything she found down. Then Jessica would get a good night's sleep and storm the precinct the next morning. She would lay everything out to Chief Isaac. The Chief would understand her concerns and he would make the best decision about what to do with Raven.

When she pulled into her driveway, Jessica noticed that the lights were all dark. She stepped out of her sedan and turned her emerald eyes toward her front door. What she saw made everything that had happened over the course of the entire night disappear from her mind.

Her lower lip trembled.
"No." she whispered in the dark.

There was a single handprint stamped into Jessica's front door.

End Chapter Thirty-Seven: Never Forgotten Night

For the briefest of instants, Jessica saw the threads that bind this story together. How long does she have until they wrap around her pale neck? Could the time be measured in… minutes?