XI –Red


Roughly two months and a half after the Dragon had burned alive many of his Asian employees and their families, another case was proving quite interesting in the United States. The man had a habit of collecting serial killers stories, so the chance of watching an investigation going on was always exciting. For information that wasn't in the press, he paid one man to get in the team of a certain detective working on his own. However, when it didn't work and his man was caught, he ordered his execution with the help of a prison guard. Poison was the best choice in these kinds of situations.

In the mean time, the newest summer collection of Anastasia was selling worldwide. The blonde woman appeared with Misa in countless interviews and shows, receiving the only analgesic Anastasia was allowed – praise. The Dragon had hired a doctor to check on her twice a day and keep her away from pills and alcohol. Of course, to Anastasia, this was inexplicable, but it wasn't like she had any word to say in any of it.

Misa kept trying to make friends with Caterina, only to be shooed away rudely. Needless to say, she began to hate the auburn-haired girl with her many bracelets and layered necklaces. She tried to copy her style, but found jeans uncomfortable and manly. Loose tops and plain T-shirts were so simple and boring, Misa swore to never make herself look so ugly and boyish. And how in the name of God could Caterina wear that long and very sharp cat eye-liner, perfect every single day? Of course, Misa had yet to discover the precision of the scotch tape.

But with beauty comes darkness. Only a few days after the Believe Bridesmaid was found strangled, the Dragon decided his daughter was old enough to see the dark side of the world that he ruled. On the first day, he showed her pictures of a similar crime scene. She saw the empty look on the victim's face, forever frozen in the purple horror of asphyxiation. She saw the large bruises on the neck in the shape of two human hands. She saw the red eyeballs and the bloody nails of the corpse, showing she had gone down with a fight.

The next day, on August 4th, the Quarter Queen was found dead in her apartment. By evening, The Dragon had given the details of her death to Caterina more bluntly than she would have liked. Drugs, the head crushed against a wall, the eyeballs crushed post-mortem, the little doll left behind and the code meant to tell the investigators who the next victim was going to be were all a little too much. She felt her stomach turning as she looked at the picture showing the girl's crushed eyeballs, but refused to look away for the sole reason of her father being by her side. If skipping a meal or two was the price to prove both of them she was not as weak as she saw herself and feared her father saw her too, then it was definitely worth it. Or at least, she tried to tell herself that.

On August the 5th, just as Anastasia was welcomed on a talk show studio, one of the cameramen walked straight towards her while holding a gun. He shot ten people – coworkers, the host, body guards, a police officer, and spectators – but was taken down only seconds before a bullet passed Anastasia's head so close she could hear it flying millimeters away from her ear.

After Light had seen the victims being taken away in ambulances, cringing in agony or fainting from the pain and terror, he knew for sure his dream would be to stop as many criminals as humanly possible. The voice in his head was an enthusiastic supporter of the death penalty, but Light would have considered it enough to have the criminals locked away someplace secure where they could only hurt themselves.

At night, he called Caterina again. This time though, she didn't pick up. A few seconds later, he received a text message instead saying 'I don't feel like talking. What's up?'.

'Why not?'

'Too much red on the canvas.'

'Same here. How are things with your family and V?'

'I get my wishes and regret I ever wished them. You?'

'Same, only I don't regret my wish. I think I've got it figured out.'

'What do you mean?'

'What I want to do in life, you know?'

'Ah yes, you're free to choose. I forgot.'

Light looked at the screen for a moment, his expression bitter in the darkness of his room. 'Wouldn't it be great if there was a world without criminals?'

'Perhaps. I don't daydream of the impossible.'

'Is your mom alright?'

'Scared, terrified, probably crying. But she'll be fine.'

'Do you want us to meet?' he asked, waiting for a few long seconds for a reply.

'We keep saying that since June and we never do.'

'I know. We're never free at the same time during the day.'

Caterina looked at the screen for a few long moments. 'I guess… The only reason I'll go out of my room tonight is chocolate.'

Light felt a bitter smile tugging at his lips. 'It's only 7. I can come pick you up if you want to walk.'

For a bit, he thought Caterina was debating whether or not she wanted to walk. '8 pm?'

'Sure.'

As Caterina stood up and dragged her feet to the bathroom, she heard her mother yelling at Vincent to be left alone. She was sick of hearing these soap opera "fights" between the broken lady of the house and the insensitive servant who happened to be around at the wrong time. Ever since the night when she went dining with her father, Caterina and her mother could not be in the same room for more than a second without glaring and yelling at each other.

The girl washed herself, shaved, used her usual hair products and wrapped a towel around her head. After drying herself and getting dressed from waist down, she went back into the bathroom to comb and dry her hair. Her eyes stared at her reflection in the half-foggy mirror as questions began to ring in the back of her mind. Was she superficial? Was her routine helping her look good, or was it just spoiling her natural beauty with fakery?

She wasn't even fifteen yet, but horribly afraid of the day she will see the first wrinkles creeping on her porcelain face. She looked at her long hair tangled in a mess of wet curls, sticking to her chest and her back. Turning on the side, Caterina examined the bones of her shoulders, her ribcage, and the spine showing through her skin. She looked at her small butt, already taking a rounder shape. She looked at her thighs that she was so tempted to hate for growing thicker with every passing month. Tight jeans could still create the illusion of having lean legs, but she was horrified of the thought she was going to be struggling with fat and cellulite in a year or maybe less.

Feeling like the sky was just about to fall, the girl fought back tears as she stared herself in the mirror, being her own worst critic. She had her mother's friends working in the fashion industry telling her she was beautiful. A few photographers tried to convince her to pose and become an aspiring model. But she refused… She refused out of fear of not being the very best at it, fear of being the second from the top, surpassed by some other girl more beautiful than her. 'Because you are a woman… Women are weak…' her father's words echoed through her mind.

Her eyes stopped on her left wrist, the one she had concealed with thin bracelets. For a second, she imagined blood flowing from her veins, going down her fingers and gathering in the sink. Red, red blood, like her mother's nails and her hair in the hot, hot sun of Italy. A creepy chill burned down her spine. The girl blinked a few times in order to see her uncut skin and her untouched blue veins underneath. With a gulp and a proud thought of 'not yet', she shook her head and threw her hair over her head. Bent over, she began to shake it and dry it in an attempt to detangle it and give it some natural volume without using combs or brushes.

In another apartment, the water was just being turned off. Light stepped out of the shower and dried himself, constantly thinking of the events of the past days. The two victims from Los Angeles were only discussed in the media because the criminal was unusual, the type that liked to create puzzles leading to his next victim. He had to be of the rare ones, those who are really twisted and frightening, the serial killers that inspire horror novels. But how many had died only in the past hours worldwide? How many crimes had been committed and had yet to be discovered, eventually tracked down to the day of August the 5th? And what about these crimes that are forgotten for so long, the criminal lives and dies unpunished?

His mind then went on Anastasia, as most of the world knew her. He tried to remember her last name, but couldn't think of anything right. But that was unimportant. What was more important was that for the sake of a rich and superficial woman, ten other people had been wounded and two were struggling between life and death in the hospital at that very moment. And how come the shooter had died in prison before his sentence was even judged? Was it a coincidence, or was it murder? Neither his father or the media seemed to know any details about the man's sudden death.

With a sigh, he looked through his closet. Caterina had a strange style – too elegant to be considered casual, but too casual to be considered elegant or fancy. He decided to try and match it, just for the fun of it. Classic jeans and a dress shirt were probably going to match her game for tonight… Of course, there was always a risk that she would suddenly show up in some pretty dress and heels just to humiliate him and look a thousand times better dressed, but he decided not to give the voice in his head the satisfaction of considering that possibility.

Before going to tell his father that he was going out, Light texted her again. It was 7:23, but she didn't reply for another ten minutes. At least, she had a reason for that – 'Sorry, I was drying my hair.' He knew from his mother and his sister that this simple thing could take women a long time and the hair driers were often loud enough to cover up the sound of a ringing phone.

'So we're still going, right?' he sent back with the only purpose of clinging to something that would help fight back his anxiety. The other voice in his head was always thinking of the possibilities Light didn't want to envision.

'Yea. Text me when you're here.' Caterina sent the message, then threw her phone on the bed once again. She looked at her dress shirts, some summery and light and others a little transparent and dark in color, with different prints and decorated buttons. Matching her dark gray jeans with a burgundy shirt, she threw her hair in a tall and messy ponytail. 'Do I look like her…?' her own question rang in her thoughts as she applied her usual eye liner and tried to conceal the dark circles under her eyes. Mascara was next, as she thought about the alternative. What if she had been born as a boy? Then Caterina, or her male self, wouldn't have had to go through the routine of painting his face. She stared her reflection in the mirror and tried to see herself with short hair and strong jaws, with a larger nose and taller cheekbones, with a larger forehead and smaller eyes.

Light shut his parents up by admitting that he was indeed going to meet with a girl. With how much effort they thought he put into studying, his parents believed him every time he said he had no time for a girlfriend, so they were glad to hear he was eventually acting a bit more like the boys his age. Secretly, both sides of him were glad that Sayu wasn't home to tease him about it and he used the opportunity to assure his parents that he did not have a girlfriend –at least, not yet- and that they still had many things to figure out before he could talk about 'us'.


Author's Note:

Another fast update! Woo! And you should thank ColdHeart1206 for writing a review. Remember what I told you, kids. Motivational trading! But no, seriously - I need to know what you think, what you like and what you don't.

Well, get ready for the New Year, whenever you may be celebrating it, as well as slower updates for the months of January and February. Exams are approaching me fast and I really need to focus on that, plus a few projects I've been avoiding for some time now. Anyway, I hope what I have already written is going to get us all through the winter and into that lovely spring break everyone is waiting for~ (or at least, I know I am!)

Chapter not proofread by a beta, so if you see anything, please message me and I'll correct it. Seriously, pull my sleeve on typos and grammar. Please.

Also, don't forget to favorite, follow, review, message me, say 'hi', check my profile every now and then for some extra info, and drink responsibly. Or don't drink at all and drive your friends home. Everyone needs that sober friend, right? :D

Update: chapter proofread by the beta reader Eat4Fun.