And if time's elimination
Then we've got nothing to lose
Please repeat the message
It's the music that we choose
--- Gorillaz "19-2000"
Chapter 5
Rinoa jumped back, and grabed at the steel bat that was tucked away beneath her bed. She raised it over her head and was about to bring it down, when she realized that he was already dead. Blood trickled from the corners of his mouth, staining his pale cheeks. His stomach and chest had been torn open down the center, exposing his inner-workings to the open air. One of his shoulders had been ripped open, and the muscle inside it was shredded clear to the bone.
Rinoa quickly looked away, placing a hand over her mouth to keep from making the scene even worse. She slowy backed away, still gripping the cold steel in her hand, and never taking her eyes away from the mangled corpse.
Finally, after she thought she was far enough away, she flung the bat to the floor and made a run for the telephone. She had to call the police.
As she waited for someone to pick up the phone, she began to wonder who the murder was. It was doubtful that Zell killed Lyra, if someone killed him. Unless they had killed him for revenge. But who? Whoever it was must have known her. Why else would they shove the corpse in her closet. It had to be some kind of sign, or warning. Was the killer going to come for her next?
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Rinoa threw down the last of her suitcases that she'd been forced to pack. She could no longer stay in her apartment. It was now a major crime scene. Instead, she had to stay in an apartment across the hall, until they could find a place to relocate her, for her own safety, of course.
She'd already been questioned twice the previous night, yet still, they had no suspects in mind. They were utterly clueless. But something bothered Rinoa. She was told that Lyra's body had been mangled much in the same way that Zell's had. She'd seen it before. It was all too familiar.
As the investigator in front of her droned on about the different possibilities and charges, another memory floated through her mind.
She drove up into the drive way of his house, making sure that everything was in order inside the house, while he was away on his weekend- long business trip. It was nearing dark now, she knew she was late, and that he would be home soon, but she had gotten tied up at work the day before. If nothing else, she could at least surprise him.
As she entered the house, she noticed that everything looked the same as it had before. Didn't it? She wasn't sure why, but something about the basement door caught her eye. It was slightly ajar, and a strange scent was floating up to meet her nose.
She traveled down the stairs to the dark, underground room below and slid her hand along the wall until it caught on the light switch. As soon as the light was on, she saw it. How could she not?
The tattered remnants of a body was sprawled out over a small wooden table in the center of the room. It had just been left there to decay in a pool of dried blood.
Rinoa whirled around, a small shriek escaping her lips. She ran out of the basement and made it back to the living room, just as he was stepping in the door. He knew. And he couldn't let her get away. It would endanger him, as well as the others, he had said to her. What others?
"Ms. Heartilly, are you listening to me?"
Rinoa's head snapped up in surprise. No, she hadn't been listening, but she wasn't about to tell him that.
"Yes, sir. I heard what you said. I understand that I can press charges for breaking and entering as well."
He nodded. "Good, good. Well, we're going to try to find you some place safe to stay. In the mean time, you are to leave your stuff here, and stay here when you need to. There will be someone guarding the door and the outside, so no one will be able to get in."
She nodded, "Thank you, sir."
"You're very welcome. Now, I'll be leaving. If you need anything, feel free to ask one of the officers stationed here."
"I will, sir. Thank you."
He left then, leaving Rinoa alone in the new, foreign apartment. She hadn't been living in her other apartment very long, but she had gotten used to it. It felt somewhat like home, now. This place just felt empty. She didn't want to stay there.
She walked over to the window, sighing, and gazed out into the busy street. taking note of the modern arcitecture. Everything felt like a slow, surreal dream. It was all happening again, just the same as it had before. It could only be one person. Seifer Almasy. His name was like a curse, ringing sharply in her mind and hovering over her head like a dark storm cloud.
"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked, her voice a quiet whisper.
When she received no answer, save a violent gust of wind against the strong brick fortress of her apartment, she emitted a bitter laugh before collapsing against the wall in an exaughsted heap. Of course there wouldn't be an answer. Was she expecting some deep voice to come booming out of the sky? Life wasn't that simple. Life.... she felt like she was traped in purgatory.
"But you're already dead in purgatory," she said, answering her thought aloud. "So there's no chance of dying."
Her thoughts were interrupted by her own yawning. She hadn't been to sleep all the night before. So, despite the fact that she didn't really feel safe in this apartment, and it had no furniture, including a bed, she curled up against the wall where she was at, and fell asleep.
When she awoke, it was dark, and probably sometime around midnight. She had no clock with which to tell.
Though she was still sleepy, the fear and uncertaintiy of last night having taking its toll on her, she stood from her spot near the window and walked out onto the balcony. She wasn't sure why she went out there. Her mind was void of thoughts, and her body moved without effort, almost like she was possesed.
She leaned up against the stone barrier that was there to keep her from falling off the edge and gazed down at the empty circle below. There was something immensely different about it this time.
Rather than the modern arcitecture she had seen earlier, the buildings in the town had suddenly taken on a more victorian style. Directly below her, was the fountain, which looked exactly the same as always. But there was a little girl with light brown hair and a red Sunday dress balancing and walking on its edge. She was singing a very familiar song as she did so, and was twisting and turning in a youthful dance.
"Why won't you die? Your blood and mine. We'll be fine. Then your body will be mine. So many words can't describe my face. This feeling's evolved. So soon to break out. I can't relate. To a happy state. Feeling the blood run inside."
In the middle of her song,, she suddenly stopped at the front of the statue. A strange smile came over the young girls face as she studied it. Suddenly a clear, feminine voice called out to the little girl, catching her attention.
"Honey, what are you doing out here?" she asked. Obviously it was the girl's mother.
She looked up to her mother, a wicked gleam shining in her eye. The hair on the back of Rinoa's neck stood up at the sight. She could feel it in the pit of her stomach, at the bottom of her soul. She squeezed her eyes shut as it happened, though she couldn't shut out the sound of the mother's scream.
Rinoa suddenly couldn't taken it anymore. She ran into her apartment and leaned against the door of the balcony, still shaking in fear.
(I need a shower) she thought after a moment.
Down stairs, a female cop stood on the ground just below Rinoa's balcony with a gun in her hand, studying the empty street around them. A tall, dark man walked up behind her silently, and before she could turn around, he pressed two fingers to the temple of her head. She closed her eyes and began to sway back and forth, as if she were in a trance. He took the oppurtunity to climb the building to her new balcony.
Inside, Rinoa felt a tingling sensation start to run through her body. Someone was in her apartment. She felt it. She quickly turned the water off and brushed her raven hair until it was smooth again. She then wrapped herself in a towel and cautiously stepped outside her door, looking around. When she realized that she couldn't see anyone, she walked back over to where she been sleeping before and collapsed against the wall again. She was shaking and on the verge of tears. Was this paranoia, or perhaps delirium? She didn't know. But she didn't think she'd ever feel safe again.
After she had finally fallen into a troubled asleep, Squall stepped out from the shadows where he had been hiding and kneeled down beside her. Her skin was still soaking wet and icy cold. She was shaking violently from both the cold, and her own fear. Small whimpers rose from her throat, as she was in the midst of a horrifiying dream. He touched her cheek and she abruptly stopped her trembling and crying. He concentrated for a moment, then laid the rose beside her. She was calm. As soon as he started to walk away from her, however, she began to shake again. So, he took one last glance out of the window, and shook his head as he saw the little girl below, dancing around the fallen body. Then, he slowly pulled her into his arms and laid down with her, stroking his hands through her wet hair as he drifted off to sleep with her.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
When Rinoa woke up the next morning, it was to the ringing of a telephone. She rose slowly and felt for the phone which was strung out over the floor. She snatched the phone off the hook and put it to her ear. "Hello?"
"Rinoa! You're okay! I couldn't reach you all day yesterday. I was worried after all that happened," a voice exclaimed.
"Selphie?"
"Yeah, it's me. So how are you?"
"As well as anyone in my position could be, I suppose," she answered.
"Okay. Well, have you been out of the house at all?"
"I don't really feel up to it, Selph. I haven't been in the mood."
"Oh, come on, Rinoa. Sitting in your apartment brooding about it, won't help you any. Come on. Let's go somewhere."
"Like where?" Rinoa asked exasperatedly.
"How about...." she paused a moment to think, "the art museum! Yeah, that sounds good. How 'bout it?"
Rinoa sighed, "Fine. Just let me get dressed and I'll meet you at the restruant, okay?"
"Great!" Selphie exclaimed. "See ya!"
Wearily, Rinoa got dressed and walked over to the restruant to meet Selphie, as promised.
"Let's go!" Selphie exclaimed. "You like art, right?"
"Yes," she answered sharply. "Let's just do this, already."
They made thier way down a few streets until they came to an extravegently designed building. Once they were inside, they were met by a young, white-haired woman.
"My name is Fujin, and I'll be your guide. So, if you'll follow me, we'll get started."
Rinoa let out an audible sigh as she followed behind the guide and Selphie. She was definately not in the mood for this today.
They went through several rooms filled with beautiful, sophisticated art by people like Van Gogh, Salvador Dali, and Edward R. Hughes. It was all very interesting, and beautiful, but there was one painting in particular that caught her eye. It was in the local's section. It was a painting of a little brown-haired girl in the red dress standing on the edge of the fountain, which was surrounded by Victorian style buildings, and looking down at her fallen mother.
"Who painted this?" Rinoa asked, suddenly taking interest in the painting.
Their guide studied the painting for a moment. "That painting was done by a Mr. Irvine Kinneas."
"Really? Is he still alive?"
Fujin shrugged. "I'm not sure. Last I heard, he lived somewhere down by the docks."
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Rinoa had to know what it was that she saw. And why this painting had the exact same image on it as what she saw the night before. Once again, it was a short time after night fall as she traveled down to the docks once more. It was a cool evening and the moon was large and full. The stars glittered in a sharp contrast to the black void upon which they rested, and the scent of the ocean wrapped around the warehouses and spread like a fog over the area.
She wasn't sure exactly where it was she wanted to go, so she just walked aimlessly around, hoping she would finding something helpful soon.
"Are you lost?" came a voice from behind her.
She spun around to find herself facing a pair of laughing blue eyes. A man with long red hair pulled into a pony-tail sat on an old crate with a short, thin "cigarette" in his mouth.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"Name's Kinneas. My friends usually call me Irvine, though."
"Really? You're the one that did that painting? The one of the little girl and the fountain?"
He nodded, taking a drag off his joint. "Yeah. It was the only thing I ever got credit for painting."
Rinoa looked down at the ground for a moment, trying to figure out how to approach him with this odd question of hers.
"You've seen the little girl?" he asked after a few moments of silence.
"You mean, in your painting?"
"No. I mean, outside your window."
Rinoa's mouth fell open. "How did you know?"
"You know why the little girl did what she did to her mother?"
"No."
"She was one of them."
"One of who?"
He took a deep puff then said, "They're evil. Well, some of them. Others are good. But in a way, they're all the same."
Rinoa arched an eyebrow. "Then what's the difference?"
"The music in your head."
"Music?"
He nodded then pointed to the moon. "Do you hear it? Do you hear that haunting, yet soothing melody? It seems so familiar, though you've never heard it before? And it seems to pulse with the rythm of your heart?"
She listened for a moment, trying to penetrate the silence. There was a faint, distant melody swirling in the darkness somewhere beyond her.
She nodded, "Yes. Just barely."
He smiled. "Its something only you, and the others of your kind can hear, and then, only when you try, or when something goes wrong, and the rythm is disturbed."
"What kind?"
He studied her for a moment then said, "I saw it happen. I saw the little girl kill her mother. Her mother wasn't the same as she was. And that little girl wasn't really a little girl. But I was a witness all the same. And I painted that picture of it. It was the last thing I ever painted. She realized after I released that painting that I had seen it all. Then I became a victim. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to be going." He stood and threw his joint to the ground before stomping it out. He then turned and started to walk toward the ocean. "Remember the music," he called over his shoulder.
She ran after him, still puzzled. "Hey wait!"
He didn't turn around. And she came to an abrupt hault when she saw him step into the surf, and slowly dissapear.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Then we've got nothing to lose
Please repeat the message
It's the music that we choose
--- Gorillaz "19-2000"
Chapter 5
Rinoa jumped back, and grabed at the steel bat that was tucked away beneath her bed. She raised it over her head and was about to bring it down, when she realized that he was already dead. Blood trickled from the corners of his mouth, staining his pale cheeks. His stomach and chest had been torn open down the center, exposing his inner-workings to the open air. One of his shoulders had been ripped open, and the muscle inside it was shredded clear to the bone.
Rinoa quickly looked away, placing a hand over her mouth to keep from making the scene even worse. She slowy backed away, still gripping the cold steel in her hand, and never taking her eyes away from the mangled corpse.
Finally, after she thought she was far enough away, she flung the bat to the floor and made a run for the telephone. She had to call the police.
As she waited for someone to pick up the phone, she began to wonder who the murder was. It was doubtful that Zell killed Lyra, if someone killed him. Unless they had killed him for revenge. But who? Whoever it was must have known her. Why else would they shove the corpse in her closet. It had to be some kind of sign, or warning. Was the killer going to come for her next?
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Rinoa threw down the last of her suitcases that she'd been forced to pack. She could no longer stay in her apartment. It was now a major crime scene. Instead, she had to stay in an apartment across the hall, until they could find a place to relocate her, for her own safety, of course.
She'd already been questioned twice the previous night, yet still, they had no suspects in mind. They were utterly clueless. But something bothered Rinoa. She was told that Lyra's body had been mangled much in the same way that Zell's had. She'd seen it before. It was all too familiar.
As the investigator in front of her droned on about the different possibilities and charges, another memory floated through her mind.
She drove up into the drive way of his house, making sure that everything was in order inside the house, while he was away on his weekend- long business trip. It was nearing dark now, she knew she was late, and that he would be home soon, but she had gotten tied up at work the day before. If nothing else, she could at least surprise him.
As she entered the house, she noticed that everything looked the same as it had before. Didn't it? She wasn't sure why, but something about the basement door caught her eye. It was slightly ajar, and a strange scent was floating up to meet her nose.
She traveled down the stairs to the dark, underground room below and slid her hand along the wall until it caught on the light switch. As soon as the light was on, she saw it. How could she not?
The tattered remnants of a body was sprawled out over a small wooden table in the center of the room. It had just been left there to decay in a pool of dried blood.
Rinoa whirled around, a small shriek escaping her lips. She ran out of the basement and made it back to the living room, just as he was stepping in the door. He knew. And he couldn't let her get away. It would endanger him, as well as the others, he had said to her. What others?
"Ms. Heartilly, are you listening to me?"
Rinoa's head snapped up in surprise. No, she hadn't been listening, but she wasn't about to tell him that.
"Yes, sir. I heard what you said. I understand that I can press charges for breaking and entering as well."
He nodded. "Good, good. Well, we're going to try to find you some place safe to stay. In the mean time, you are to leave your stuff here, and stay here when you need to. There will be someone guarding the door and the outside, so no one will be able to get in."
She nodded, "Thank you, sir."
"You're very welcome. Now, I'll be leaving. If you need anything, feel free to ask one of the officers stationed here."
"I will, sir. Thank you."
He left then, leaving Rinoa alone in the new, foreign apartment. She hadn't been living in her other apartment very long, but she had gotten used to it. It felt somewhat like home, now. This place just felt empty. She didn't want to stay there.
She walked over to the window, sighing, and gazed out into the busy street. taking note of the modern arcitecture. Everything felt like a slow, surreal dream. It was all happening again, just the same as it had before. It could only be one person. Seifer Almasy. His name was like a curse, ringing sharply in her mind and hovering over her head like a dark storm cloud.
"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked, her voice a quiet whisper.
When she received no answer, save a violent gust of wind against the strong brick fortress of her apartment, she emitted a bitter laugh before collapsing against the wall in an exaughsted heap. Of course there wouldn't be an answer. Was she expecting some deep voice to come booming out of the sky? Life wasn't that simple. Life.... she felt like she was traped in purgatory.
"But you're already dead in purgatory," she said, answering her thought aloud. "So there's no chance of dying."
Her thoughts were interrupted by her own yawning. She hadn't been to sleep all the night before. So, despite the fact that she didn't really feel safe in this apartment, and it had no furniture, including a bed, she curled up against the wall where she was at, and fell asleep.
When she awoke, it was dark, and probably sometime around midnight. She had no clock with which to tell.
Though she was still sleepy, the fear and uncertaintiy of last night having taking its toll on her, she stood from her spot near the window and walked out onto the balcony. She wasn't sure why she went out there. Her mind was void of thoughts, and her body moved without effort, almost like she was possesed.
She leaned up against the stone barrier that was there to keep her from falling off the edge and gazed down at the empty circle below. There was something immensely different about it this time.
Rather than the modern arcitecture she had seen earlier, the buildings in the town had suddenly taken on a more victorian style. Directly below her, was the fountain, which looked exactly the same as always. But there was a little girl with light brown hair and a red Sunday dress balancing and walking on its edge. She was singing a very familiar song as she did so, and was twisting and turning in a youthful dance.
"Why won't you die? Your blood and mine. We'll be fine. Then your body will be mine. So many words can't describe my face. This feeling's evolved. So soon to break out. I can't relate. To a happy state. Feeling the blood run inside."
In the middle of her song,, she suddenly stopped at the front of the statue. A strange smile came over the young girls face as she studied it. Suddenly a clear, feminine voice called out to the little girl, catching her attention.
"Honey, what are you doing out here?" she asked. Obviously it was the girl's mother.
She looked up to her mother, a wicked gleam shining in her eye. The hair on the back of Rinoa's neck stood up at the sight. She could feel it in the pit of her stomach, at the bottom of her soul. She squeezed her eyes shut as it happened, though she couldn't shut out the sound of the mother's scream.
Rinoa suddenly couldn't taken it anymore. She ran into her apartment and leaned against the door of the balcony, still shaking in fear.
(I need a shower) she thought after a moment.
Down stairs, a female cop stood on the ground just below Rinoa's balcony with a gun in her hand, studying the empty street around them. A tall, dark man walked up behind her silently, and before she could turn around, he pressed two fingers to the temple of her head. She closed her eyes and began to sway back and forth, as if she were in a trance. He took the oppurtunity to climb the building to her new balcony.
Inside, Rinoa felt a tingling sensation start to run through her body. Someone was in her apartment. She felt it. She quickly turned the water off and brushed her raven hair until it was smooth again. She then wrapped herself in a towel and cautiously stepped outside her door, looking around. When she realized that she couldn't see anyone, she walked back over to where she been sleeping before and collapsed against the wall again. She was shaking and on the verge of tears. Was this paranoia, or perhaps delirium? She didn't know. But she didn't think she'd ever feel safe again.
After she had finally fallen into a troubled asleep, Squall stepped out from the shadows where he had been hiding and kneeled down beside her. Her skin was still soaking wet and icy cold. She was shaking violently from both the cold, and her own fear. Small whimpers rose from her throat, as she was in the midst of a horrifiying dream. He touched her cheek and she abruptly stopped her trembling and crying. He concentrated for a moment, then laid the rose beside her. She was calm. As soon as he started to walk away from her, however, she began to shake again. So, he took one last glance out of the window, and shook his head as he saw the little girl below, dancing around the fallen body. Then, he slowly pulled her into his arms and laid down with her, stroking his hands through her wet hair as he drifted off to sleep with her.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
When Rinoa woke up the next morning, it was to the ringing of a telephone. She rose slowly and felt for the phone which was strung out over the floor. She snatched the phone off the hook and put it to her ear. "Hello?"
"Rinoa! You're okay! I couldn't reach you all day yesterday. I was worried after all that happened," a voice exclaimed.
"Selphie?"
"Yeah, it's me. So how are you?"
"As well as anyone in my position could be, I suppose," she answered.
"Okay. Well, have you been out of the house at all?"
"I don't really feel up to it, Selph. I haven't been in the mood."
"Oh, come on, Rinoa. Sitting in your apartment brooding about it, won't help you any. Come on. Let's go somewhere."
"Like where?" Rinoa asked exasperatedly.
"How about...." she paused a moment to think, "the art museum! Yeah, that sounds good. How 'bout it?"
Rinoa sighed, "Fine. Just let me get dressed and I'll meet you at the restruant, okay?"
"Great!" Selphie exclaimed. "See ya!"
Wearily, Rinoa got dressed and walked over to the restruant to meet Selphie, as promised.
"Let's go!" Selphie exclaimed. "You like art, right?"
"Yes," she answered sharply. "Let's just do this, already."
They made thier way down a few streets until they came to an extravegently designed building. Once they were inside, they were met by a young, white-haired woman.
"My name is Fujin, and I'll be your guide. So, if you'll follow me, we'll get started."
Rinoa let out an audible sigh as she followed behind the guide and Selphie. She was definately not in the mood for this today.
They went through several rooms filled with beautiful, sophisticated art by people like Van Gogh, Salvador Dali, and Edward R. Hughes. It was all very interesting, and beautiful, but there was one painting in particular that caught her eye. It was in the local's section. It was a painting of a little brown-haired girl in the red dress standing on the edge of the fountain, which was surrounded by Victorian style buildings, and looking down at her fallen mother.
"Who painted this?" Rinoa asked, suddenly taking interest in the painting.
Their guide studied the painting for a moment. "That painting was done by a Mr. Irvine Kinneas."
"Really? Is he still alive?"
Fujin shrugged. "I'm not sure. Last I heard, he lived somewhere down by the docks."
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Rinoa had to know what it was that she saw. And why this painting had the exact same image on it as what she saw the night before. Once again, it was a short time after night fall as she traveled down to the docks once more. It was a cool evening and the moon was large and full. The stars glittered in a sharp contrast to the black void upon which they rested, and the scent of the ocean wrapped around the warehouses and spread like a fog over the area.
She wasn't sure exactly where it was she wanted to go, so she just walked aimlessly around, hoping she would finding something helpful soon.
"Are you lost?" came a voice from behind her.
She spun around to find herself facing a pair of laughing blue eyes. A man with long red hair pulled into a pony-tail sat on an old crate with a short, thin "cigarette" in his mouth.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"Name's Kinneas. My friends usually call me Irvine, though."
"Really? You're the one that did that painting? The one of the little girl and the fountain?"
He nodded, taking a drag off his joint. "Yeah. It was the only thing I ever got credit for painting."
Rinoa looked down at the ground for a moment, trying to figure out how to approach him with this odd question of hers.
"You've seen the little girl?" he asked after a few moments of silence.
"You mean, in your painting?"
"No. I mean, outside your window."
Rinoa's mouth fell open. "How did you know?"
"You know why the little girl did what she did to her mother?"
"No."
"She was one of them."
"One of who?"
He took a deep puff then said, "They're evil. Well, some of them. Others are good. But in a way, they're all the same."
Rinoa arched an eyebrow. "Then what's the difference?"
"The music in your head."
"Music?"
He nodded then pointed to the moon. "Do you hear it? Do you hear that haunting, yet soothing melody? It seems so familiar, though you've never heard it before? And it seems to pulse with the rythm of your heart?"
She listened for a moment, trying to penetrate the silence. There was a faint, distant melody swirling in the darkness somewhere beyond her.
She nodded, "Yes. Just barely."
He smiled. "Its something only you, and the others of your kind can hear, and then, only when you try, or when something goes wrong, and the rythm is disturbed."
"What kind?"
He studied her for a moment then said, "I saw it happen. I saw the little girl kill her mother. Her mother wasn't the same as she was. And that little girl wasn't really a little girl. But I was a witness all the same. And I painted that picture of it. It was the last thing I ever painted. She realized after I released that painting that I had seen it all. Then I became a victim. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to be going." He stood and threw his joint to the ground before stomping it out. He then turned and started to walk toward the ocean. "Remember the music," he called over his shoulder.
She ran after him, still puzzled. "Hey wait!"
He didn't turn around. And she came to an abrupt hault when she saw him step into the surf, and slowly dissapear.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$