Playing God
By GoldenEagle

Chapter Two: Playing the Victim

The sky was darkening to a deep grey when Dillandau was awaken by the sound of tires skidding to a halt on the asphalt in front of him. He blinked, slowly, at the strange metal contraption before jumping up, his hand reaching for his sword, only to find an empty scabbard. He cursed himself quietly as a tall man stepped out of the contraption. He wore a blue uniform with some sort of badge on the side.

"Hey, son, are you all right? Just come with me. I'll get you somewhere safe. Find your parents, perhaps?" The silver haired boy cocked his head to the side at the strange language. He couldn't make out a word that the man said. The policeman stepped forward, his voice soft, as if talking to a child. But, as we all know, Dillandau is anything but a child...

The teenager rushed forward suddenly, knocking into the officer as he passed. The man stumbled before giving chase after the "runaway". If it wasn't for the wound in Dillandau's side, he would have easily outrun the cop. But as he moved, the wound started bleeding. The older man lunged forward and knocked Dillandau to the ground, causing some of the stitches to rip loose in Dillandau's abdomen. He grimaced as he felt his arms yanked violently behind him and cold metal bands wrap around his wrists. His eyes had turned that dangerous, garnet color as he looked over his shoulder at the man on his back.

"Sorry for doing that, boy. We'll get you back to the city and find your parents-" The officer stopped speaking abruptly after lifting the boy out and finding a steady stream of blood flowing from the teen's stomach. "Shit. I better get you to a hospital." Right about then, the sound of tires squealing on pavement distracted the two. A car swerved violently over the road before coming to a direct stop before them. "Get in the car." The officer muttered as he eyed the car suspiciously. When the boy didn't make a move, which was due to the fact that he couldn't understand a word the older man had just said, the cop opened the front door to his car and shoved him in, too distracted to bother with shoving him in the back seat.

And then, through the new darkness that had formed over the Californian scene, a loud explosion made Dillandau flinch slightly and unexpectedly. Though he did not recognize the noise, the officer did.

Gunshot.

************

Moments before...

************

The red, badly running Ford Probe came to a stop at the side of the road. The driver, her mousy brown hair up, her mocha eyes shining, looked over to the side before speaking. "Hey, kid, you need a ride?" She asked.

The girl huddled at the side of the road looked up, tears falling down her pale face. Blonde and silver strands of hair hung around her head and the driver could see she had been crying for quite some time. The small girl hesitated momentarily before standing slowly, a pack at her side. She was shaking and the driver was surprised to find that she was no child at all, but a tall, leggy teenager. "I'm... I'm lost." She said in a genuinely pitiful voice.

"Hop in the car. If you have to, you can crash at my place tonight." The woman said, a warm smile flitting across her face. The younger girl only nodded silently as she moved to the other side of the car and opened the door before sitting down beside her, the torn bag in her hands. She fidgeted nervously before finally settling down. "So, what's your name?" The other woman asked.

"Paris. Paris Willis, ma'm. But all my friends call me Siren. You know, after the Greek myth and everything. They say it suits me better than Paris..." The girl answered in a small, timid voice.

A small frown flashed across the older woman's face. Siren... For some reason, that made an alarm go off in her head, but since she couldn't figure out why, she ignored it. "I'm Elizabeth. And that," She jerked her head to the side, indicating the back seat. "That is my friend. I don't have a name for him yet. Maybe you could help me with that." She said, giving a big, toothy smile.

The girl turned her head back and saw a large cage in the back seat. In the depths of the cage slept a small, fluffy fur-ball. "It's a pygmy marmoset." She muttered. As if hearing her, the small primate looked up at her with big, blinking eyes. "Why do you have one of them? I thought they were endangered." She said, suddenly and oddly talkative and active.

"I'm a zoologist. I work for one of the local zoos. We're bringing this little fella to a holding area closer to the coast. After the earthquake, his place was badly damaged. We'll bring him back after repairs are made. I see you have little knowledge on primates, too." The teen only nodded dully. "So, where do you need to get to?" She asked.

"Malibu." The other replied calmly.

"Well, I'm not heading there, but, maybe I can-" She stopped abruptly as she felt something hard being pressed into her side. Her eyes flew to the seat beside her and they went wide as she saw the girl holding the gun against her, tear stains still evident on her now insanely smirking face. A cold look flashed through her eyes.

"You'll bring me where I want to go, or die." She said, as if it was a well known fact. The woman bit her lip as a tear escaped her eye. She nodded, her body stiff.

After a few minutes of driving, the woman could make out a car on the side of the road. A police car. Her hopes rose and she suddenly sped up, swerving about the road. "Don't you even..." The girl hissed, but as the car careened to a stop, she was flung forward a bit, her forehead hitting the widow, cracking it. She growled out in pain as she held her bleeding head.

"Please, someone, someone help me!" The woman screamed as she started to open the car door. Siren raised the gun up.

"Wrong move, bitch." She hissed. A shot rang through the darkness and the older woman sunk into her seat, blood running in floods from the bullet hole in her temple. A bit of the crimson flow splashed across the teen's face as the bullet entered, but it was ignored. Siren looked up as the policeman edged closer. She calmly pulled out a tube of black, smooth lipstick from her bag before applying it to her lips. After a swift smack, she leaned over and kissed the corpse laying next to her on the cheek. A black outline of lips was left on the paling skin. Siren smiled, pleased. It was her mark. It was how the authorities knew she had struck. The press put it quite nicely as the "kiss of death".

"Get out of the car with your hands above your head!" The man in uniform screamed at her. She smirked before turning around, opening the cage to the small primate. It jumped out before landing on her shoulders and curling its long tail around her neck. She smiled at its warmth. She then opened the door slowly to the car and stepped out, her hands up, a grin flashing across her face. The officer took in her bloodied face slowly before recognizing it as the one he had seen photographed on several wanted posters. "PUT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOU BACK!" He screamed. The only reply he got was her black lips turning upward even more. He saw her gaze flash back momentarily before she jumped to the side. "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE-" But the man was interupted as he was hit by a fast moving body of metal.

While all this had been happening, Dillandau had watched, in growing admiration, of the lavender eyed girl before him. Her gaze shone red, a blood lust in them, as the car lights hit them. He looked around momentarily. He noticed two petals at the floor on the other side and he was slightly reminded of his own guymelef. He inched forward on his seat before bringing his legs over and pushing his foot down on one of the petals. The car roared to life, sprinting forward.

There was little time to react as the policeman was hit, the glass cracking and falling in on the boy's form. Then, almost as quickly, it hit the other vehicle, pushing both off the road. Dillandau moaned momentarily, the pain in his abdomen flaring to life with the jerking movements. But he was interupted by cold metal against his temple. His eyes flew open. The girl stood there, the driver's door open, holding some sort of weapon to his head. He didn't move as she looked at him. She spoke, but he didn't understand a word she said.

"You're a fucking moron, you know that? Now we're stuck, in the middle of nowhere, with no fucking transportation!" Her eyes flared but died down, looking him deeper in the eye. She drew closer, inches from his face, looking him deep into his gaze, analyzing him. Dillandau was momentarily reminded of the dragons of Gaea, their eyes flaming, their breath hot, the blood and flesh of their kill still in-between their teeth, in-between their scales... Beautiful. They- No, she was a beautiful predator. The small monkey jumped onto her shoulders and glared down at the boy, mimicking its new master. She raised her eyebrows in sudden admiration, a cold smile flitting across her face. "You have death in your eyes, boy. Maybe you'll be of some use."

He flinched as he felt the cold metal move to his back, but relaxed when he felt the metal loosen around his wrists and he was suddenly free. He brought his hands forward, rubbing his wrists gingerly. He couldn't take his eyes off of her, though. After a few minutes of staring she gave him an odd look. "You need to stop staring at me, boy."

"What?" He asked in his own language. "I don't think I speak-"

"Fuck." She said. He was recognized the word from before. "He's a fucking foreigner!" She hissed as she withdrew from the police car, Dillandau following her slowly, grimacing at the pain that roared through him from his stomach. She looked at him oddly. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Dillandau looked at her oddly, recognizing the tone as a question. He spoke the only word he knew of this strange language, more to himself than in reply.

"Fuck."

A splitting laugh broke him from his thoughtfulness. She looked up at him, a strange warmth in her eyes that didn't go with the blood on her face. "I better watch what I say around you, you moron." She said, laughing through the entire sentence.