Undefined Reality
CHAPTER 3 - "Revenge"
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Author: Ravena Kaiou
Email: KakyuuStarLt@aol.com
Genre: Horror/Supernatural
Anime: Gundam Wing
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence, paranormality, OOC, language.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing. The rights to it belong to Sunrise Animation, Bandai, and a few other people I don't know about.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
What happened in the next hour or so was all a blur to Dr. Wu Fei Chang. After he had unwittingly found the woman's body, the police had been called out to investigate. Which was why lieutenant Lucrezia Noin was now writing down various bits of information as the Chinese man shakily tried to reiterate what exactly went on.
"Now, tell me what happened before you saw her," Noin said gently.
As if trying to erase the vision from his mind, Wu Fei closed his eyes tightly and shook his head. "Someone said 'Good evening, Dr. Chang' and I turned to see who it was. Then I saw...her..." His words trailed off as a shiver raced through his body.
Lucrezia's blue eyes had an odd sharpness in them. Since she had very first stepped into St. John of Mercy's Hospital, an uneasy feeling had been haunting her.
"Lieutenant!" Patrolman Milliardo Peacecraft came running up to the two. "We got a positive ID on the stiff."
The attractive lieutenant narrowed her eyes. "Nice terminology," she snapped. "Did they teach you that in the academy?"
"Sorry, Lieutenant Noin," Milliardo apologized. He had never been able to understand why his commanding officer came with such a great respect for the dead, but he figured it best to humour her whenever possible.
Noin smiled sweetly. "Now, you said you've found our victim's name?"
Milliardo nodded and handed her a chart filled to bursting with papers of various natures. "The victim's name is Sylvia Noventa, age 16, formally diagnosed with a severe case of schizophrenia about two years ago. She was being held in the psych ward," he explained as the woman scrutinized the case history attached to the front cover with metal brads.
"If she was being held in the psych ward, then how the hell did she get downstairs and halfway across the building?" Noin asked to no one in particular.
Officer Peacecraft sighed. "Sylvia was dying from a rare form of brain cancer which probably could have accounted for her mental status at the time of death," he suggested. "An attendant in psych claimed that she was being transferred to radiology when she became violent and uncooperative. She broke free and ran down the east wing hallway. As for her means of suicide," at this he held up a knotted mess of intravenous cords that had been hastily made into a noose, "we can only assume that she grabbed something out of storage and continued on down here."
Noin's eyes flashed briefly. It was a bit of a stretch, but it was the only rational explanation they had.
"Lieutenant? Lieutenant, are you all right?" Dr. Chang's voice echoed in Noin's mind.
Blinking and snapping back to the real world, Lieutenant Noin cleared her throat and closed the chart. "Yes, I'm fine. I think we have all we need for tonight. Thank you for your help, Dr. Chang," she said.
Wu Fei nodded. "Thank you for coming so quickly," he returned.
Milliardo turned and walked out the double doors, on his way to squad car 54 so that he and his partner could hopefully return to their homes and get some sleep.
"Dr. Chang, would it be all right if I looked into a few more things here?" she asked. "I think we're missing a piece of the puzzle."
The Chinese doctor's face hardened. He had been thinking the exact same thing. With the rash of odd occurrences that had been going on, it did seem as if they were overlooking something important. "Go ahead," he said, waving his hand dismissively, then turning his coat and badge in at the desk and leaving for the safety of his own apartment.
Satisfied, Noin clicked on her portable radio. "54 to car, 54 to car, do you copy?" she said into the microphone.
"54, this is car, I copy. What's your 20?" the radio crackled.
"Get your ass back in here. We've got more work to do."
"Awwww...10-4."
A few moments later, Milliardo came trekking back in through the doors. "What's the deal? Aren't we going home yet?" he demanded a bit crankily.
"Don't get your panties in a twist," Noin retorted. "We'll leave once we find what I'm looking for."
"What ARE you looking for?"
Noin paused. "I don't know yet," she answered. "I just don't know."
About three hours later, Milliardo found himself in the psych ward's records storage area, flipping through filing cabinet after filing cabinet of patient charts. The names were all beginning to run together when he looked at them. "Noventa, Sylvia...Septum...Otto...Mueller...Alex..." he droned under his breath.
Then he noticed something odd. Each chart had a small orange sticker in the lower left-hand corner.
"Hey, Lieutenant?" he called. "Check this out, I think I found something."
But no answer came from the heavy darkness of the room.
To avoid raising questions, the duo had decided to sneak into the records room and use flashlights rather than flood the small space with fluorescent light. Now patterns of dust angels danced like lost souls in the weak beam that streamed from his Maglite, and, as he bounced it around the room, he realized that Noin had disappeared.
"Lucrezia? Lucrezia, where are you?" he asked, trying to downplay the fear in his voice. He desperately tried to force the strange story of Duo Maxwell's injuries that he had heard the doctors talking about in the hallway out of his mind. And the image of the late Sylvia Noventa...
When he had walked through the doors of the hospital and turned the corner, Sylvia Noventa had been waiting for him. Her cold, dead eyes seemed to penetrate his skull, they were still so full of fear, anger, and sorrow. In one so young as she was, it seemed a waste. Nothing like a normal sixteen-year-old should have looked.
But she wasn't a normal sixteen year old, he reminded himself. Sylvia was a sick girl.
As if to punctuate his last thought, the doorknob to the records room rattled.
Milliardo jumped, then berated himself for being startled so easily. If the boys from the academy could've seen that little display, he would've been laughed off of the force. It was probably Noin, coming back from wherever she had been.
But the door didn't swing open, it just kept rattling in an almost rhythmic fashion.
The patrolman couldn't tear his gaze away from the vibrating brass sphere. It was almost like it was hypnotizing him...
A shrill scream interrupted his thoughts. A very familiar shrill scream.
"Noin?!" he called out as he rushed to the door, whose knob had stopped its motion. "Noin, I'm coming!"
He frantically twisted the doorknob, then withdrew his hand in terror as he felt a warm, sticky liquid spread over his palm. Even in the weak light that came from his flashlight, he could see the deep, forbidden crimson that was characteristic of blood.
"Shit!" he cried out.
Suddenly the sound of a shot fired from a .37 Magnum rang out in the darkness. Shortly after, another one made its presence known...then another...and another....
Four shots in all, and Milliardo couldn't do a damn thing about it.
A heavy, unsettling silence fell over the entire scene, and brought with it excruciating cold. As Milliardo's breast rose and fell with each breath he took, little puffy white clouds of smoke swirled out from between his lips.
"Shit," Milliardo repeated under his breath. "Shit, shit shit shit..."
An unseen force hurled him against one of the metal filing cabinets. The officer cried out in pain as the hard handle of the top drawer thrust itself into his spine.
"Who are you?!" he demanded between the reverberating slaps that came across his face. "What do you want?!"
"Revenge," a female voice hissed, its airy echoes bouncing off of every available surface in the room. To Milliardo, it seemed that the voice came from all directions at once rather than a single place.
"Revenge," it said again as a stinging sensation ran throughout the man's body. It felt like Milliardo's blood had been replaced with pure hydrochloric acid.
"Ahhhh!" the officer cried out as he fell to the floor and writhed, trying to quell the intensity of the pain.
And as suddenly as it had begun...everything stopped.
The handsome blonde man opened one eye and stared at the ceiling. Nothing seemed out of place to him. Was all of that screaming and shooting his imagination?
A small voice in the back of his mind told him otherwise.
He hastily got to his feet and picked up his flashlight as he burst out of the records room, noting how the doorknob had suddenly fixed itself. "Noin!" he screamed.
"Noin!"
As he played the beam around the now-dark reception area of the ward, a trickle of red captured his attention.
Breathing heavily out of fear and anticipation of what he was about to find, Milliardo moved the beam up from the floor slowly, inch by inch.
Once he saw what was on the wall, he felt like screaming again.
Lieutenant Lucrezia Noin's bloody corpse was held to the wall by a scalpel jabbed through her torn throat, scarlet arterial blood pumping profusely from the various gashes that adorned her naked body. Four gaping gunshot wounds patterned themselves over her pale, still chest.
And the horror was not over then.
Next to her, written in what seemed to be her own blood, was a single word.
"REVENGE."
CHAPTER 3 - "Revenge"
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Author: Ravena Kaiou
Email: KakyuuStarLt@aol.com
Genre: Horror/Supernatural
Anime: Gundam Wing
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence, paranormality, OOC, language.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing. The rights to it belong to Sunrise Animation, Bandai, and a few other people I don't know about.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
What happened in the next hour or so was all a blur to Dr. Wu Fei Chang. After he had unwittingly found the woman's body, the police had been called out to investigate. Which was why lieutenant Lucrezia Noin was now writing down various bits of information as the Chinese man shakily tried to reiterate what exactly went on.
"Now, tell me what happened before you saw her," Noin said gently.
As if trying to erase the vision from his mind, Wu Fei closed his eyes tightly and shook his head. "Someone said 'Good evening, Dr. Chang' and I turned to see who it was. Then I saw...her..." His words trailed off as a shiver raced through his body.
Lucrezia's blue eyes had an odd sharpness in them. Since she had very first stepped into St. John of Mercy's Hospital, an uneasy feeling had been haunting her.
"Lieutenant!" Patrolman Milliardo Peacecraft came running up to the two. "We got a positive ID on the stiff."
The attractive lieutenant narrowed her eyes. "Nice terminology," she snapped. "Did they teach you that in the academy?"
"Sorry, Lieutenant Noin," Milliardo apologized. He had never been able to understand why his commanding officer came with such a great respect for the dead, but he figured it best to humour her whenever possible.
Noin smiled sweetly. "Now, you said you've found our victim's name?"
Milliardo nodded and handed her a chart filled to bursting with papers of various natures. "The victim's name is Sylvia Noventa, age 16, formally diagnosed with a severe case of schizophrenia about two years ago. She was being held in the psych ward," he explained as the woman scrutinized the case history attached to the front cover with metal brads.
"If she was being held in the psych ward, then how the hell did she get downstairs and halfway across the building?" Noin asked to no one in particular.
Officer Peacecraft sighed. "Sylvia was dying from a rare form of brain cancer which probably could have accounted for her mental status at the time of death," he suggested. "An attendant in psych claimed that she was being transferred to radiology when she became violent and uncooperative. She broke free and ran down the east wing hallway. As for her means of suicide," at this he held up a knotted mess of intravenous cords that had been hastily made into a noose, "we can only assume that she grabbed something out of storage and continued on down here."
Noin's eyes flashed briefly. It was a bit of a stretch, but it was the only rational explanation they had.
"Lieutenant? Lieutenant, are you all right?" Dr. Chang's voice echoed in Noin's mind.
Blinking and snapping back to the real world, Lieutenant Noin cleared her throat and closed the chart. "Yes, I'm fine. I think we have all we need for tonight. Thank you for your help, Dr. Chang," she said.
Wu Fei nodded. "Thank you for coming so quickly," he returned.
Milliardo turned and walked out the double doors, on his way to squad car 54 so that he and his partner could hopefully return to their homes and get some sleep.
"Dr. Chang, would it be all right if I looked into a few more things here?" she asked. "I think we're missing a piece of the puzzle."
The Chinese doctor's face hardened. He had been thinking the exact same thing. With the rash of odd occurrences that had been going on, it did seem as if they were overlooking something important. "Go ahead," he said, waving his hand dismissively, then turning his coat and badge in at the desk and leaving for the safety of his own apartment.
Satisfied, Noin clicked on her portable radio. "54 to car, 54 to car, do you copy?" she said into the microphone.
"54, this is car, I copy. What's your 20?" the radio crackled.
"Get your ass back in here. We've got more work to do."
"Awwww...10-4."
A few moments later, Milliardo came trekking back in through the doors. "What's the deal? Aren't we going home yet?" he demanded a bit crankily.
"Don't get your panties in a twist," Noin retorted. "We'll leave once we find what I'm looking for."
"What ARE you looking for?"
Noin paused. "I don't know yet," she answered. "I just don't know."
About three hours later, Milliardo found himself in the psych ward's records storage area, flipping through filing cabinet after filing cabinet of patient charts. The names were all beginning to run together when he looked at them. "Noventa, Sylvia...Septum...Otto...Mueller...Alex..." he droned under his breath.
Then he noticed something odd. Each chart had a small orange sticker in the lower left-hand corner.
"Hey, Lieutenant?" he called. "Check this out, I think I found something."
But no answer came from the heavy darkness of the room.
To avoid raising questions, the duo had decided to sneak into the records room and use flashlights rather than flood the small space with fluorescent light. Now patterns of dust angels danced like lost souls in the weak beam that streamed from his Maglite, and, as he bounced it around the room, he realized that Noin had disappeared.
"Lucrezia? Lucrezia, where are you?" he asked, trying to downplay the fear in his voice. He desperately tried to force the strange story of Duo Maxwell's injuries that he had heard the doctors talking about in the hallway out of his mind. And the image of the late Sylvia Noventa...
When he had walked through the doors of the hospital and turned the corner, Sylvia Noventa had been waiting for him. Her cold, dead eyes seemed to penetrate his skull, they were still so full of fear, anger, and sorrow. In one so young as she was, it seemed a waste. Nothing like a normal sixteen-year-old should have looked.
But she wasn't a normal sixteen year old, he reminded himself. Sylvia was a sick girl.
As if to punctuate his last thought, the doorknob to the records room rattled.
Milliardo jumped, then berated himself for being startled so easily. If the boys from the academy could've seen that little display, he would've been laughed off of the force. It was probably Noin, coming back from wherever she had been.
But the door didn't swing open, it just kept rattling in an almost rhythmic fashion.
The patrolman couldn't tear his gaze away from the vibrating brass sphere. It was almost like it was hypnotizing him...
A shrill scream interrupted his thoughts. A very familiar shrill scream.
"Noin?!" he called out as he rushed to the door, whose knob had stopped its motion. "Noin, I'm coming!"
He frantically twisted the doorknob, then withdrew his hand in terror as he felt a warm, sticky liquid spread over his palm. Even in the weak light that came from his flashlight, he could see the deep, forbidden crimson that was characteristic of blood.
"Shit!" he cried out.
Suddenly the sound of a shot fired from a .37 Magnum rang out in the darkness. Shortly after, another one made its presence known...then another...and another....
Four shots in all, and Milliardo couldn't do a damn thing about it.
A heavy, unsettling silence fell over the entire scene, and brought with it excruciating cold. As Milliardo's breast rose and fell with each breath he took, little puffy white clouds of smoke swirled out from between his lips.
"Shit," Milliardo repeated under his breath. "Shit, shit shit shit..."
An unseen force hurled him against one of the metal filing cabinets. The officer cried out in pain as the hard handle of the top drawer thrust itself into his spine.
"Who are you?!" he demanded between the reverberating slaps that came across his face. "What do you want?!"
"Revenge," a female voice hissed, its airy echoes bouncing off of every available surface in the room. To Milliardo, it seemed that the voice came from all directions at once rather than a single place.
"Revenge," it said again as a stinging sensation ran throughout the man's body. It felt like Milliardo's blood had been replaced with pure hydrochloric acid.
"Ahhhh!" the officer cried out as he fell to the floor and writhed, trying to quell the intensity of the pain.
And as suddenly as it had begun...everything stopped.
The handsome blonde man opened one eye and stared at the ceiling. Nothing seemed out of place to him. Was all of that screaming and shooting his imagination?
A small voice in the back of his mind told him otherwise.
He hastily got to his feet and picked up his flashlight as he burst out of the records room, noting how the doorknob had suddenly fixed itself. "Noin!" he screamed.
"Noin!"
As he played the beam around the now-dark reception area of the ward, a trickle of red captured his attention.
Breathing heavily out of fear and anticipation of what he was about to find, Milliardo moved the beam up from the floor slowly, inch by inch.
Once he saw what was on the wall, he felt like screaming again.
Lieutenant Lucrezia Noin's bloody corpse was held to the wall by a scalpel jabbed through her torn throat, scarlet arterial blood pumping profusely from the various gashes that adorned her naked body. Four gaping gunshot wounds patterned themselves over her pale, still chest.
And the horror was not over then.
Next to her, written in what seemed to be her own blood, was a single word.
"REVENGE."