Dark Chocolate, White Diamonds
By Dixxy
Chapter Four: Devestation
(Kento)
It should've been a normal Sunday. By all means, a normal Sunday.
It was one of those days you remember for the rest of your life for a bad reason. One of those days that you wake up feeling normal until the bad thing happens, whether you find out your parents are headed for a divorce, or your dog gets hit by a car. Your best friend moves away to another state and you never hear from him again. Someone tells you they have cancer and it's become terminal.
One of those days.
Everyone living at Mike's house was home except for Sue Lee and Cara- Cara had a photography project due and Sue Lee was the subject, so she'd taken the little girl out to find a pile of leaves for her to play in. Mike was doing some research, and Sage and I were flipping channels.
Well, I was channel surfing. Sage, on the other hand, was not.
Instead of learning to drive like normal people, the last Flitteree took a leaf from Rona's book and looked into motorcycles instead and received his license to ride one. Sage had just saved up enough money to buy a motorcycle and had purchased a half-decent used Yamaha earlier that day. He hadn't shut up about the bike for two straight hours and I was getting a little sick of hearing about how fast it was or how many miles to the gallon it got.
"The guy that sold it to me said that the previous owner won some ribbons at a motorcycle convention for all these performance categories," said Sage, nodding proudly. "She was the fastest, the smoothest, the shiniest, voted best in show. I don't know WHY the guy gave it up or WHY I got it so cheap. Oh, wait, that's right, the guy bought a really expensive bike and gave that bike to the guy I bought it from, and because he liked me and I have a quick tongue I was able to talk to the price down."
"Sage?" I asked after stopping on a rerun of some sitcom. He looked at me, beaming, waiting for me to ask some ludicrous question about his new toy. For all the good his bright and cheery instincts are doing him good, I think they're doing ME bad. "You know what you can do with that motorcycle of yours?" I said.
"Yeah?"
"You can shove it up your-"
"We interrupt the regularly scheduled program to bring you this news bulletin."
The motorcycle placed out of mind, Sage and I looked at the TV, and seeing that, indeed, instead of the sitcom, the local news anchorman and woman were sitting behind the news desk instead. "What the heck?" asked Sage. "The news doesn't start for another few hours. Why are they on now?"
"Shh," I said, holding up a hand. My armor was going crazy, doubled by my senses as a seer. "I want to hear this." I had a gut feeling in my stomach that this was going to be important. VERY important. The two of us stayed silent as we watched the news bulletin flash across the screen.
"Boston authorities have just reported a double homicide in the urban area of the city. The victims, a married couple, were found in their home with numerous broken bones, stab wounds, and gunshot holes by their teenage son and daughter just an hour ago. Police are investigating as we speak, interviewing neighbors and the victim's children to try and determine who would have committed what is considered to be the most malicious and gruesome crime of the year for Boston," said the anchorwoman.
"Damn," said Sage.
"We're just now getting live footage from the scene of the crime," said the anchorman as the screen changed to show a house swamped with police cars, the yellow cop tape, and numerous paramedics and news crews. The scene was a madhouse of chaos as drivers stopped to see what was going on and the police tried to chase them off.
It wasn't all that I cared about however.
"Holy shit," I said, standing up. "It CAN'T be." My eyes widened in terror as I my mind began to spin out of control. I knew that house. I knew the cars in the driveway. I knew the neighborhood. I knew the people who lived in that house. My heart nearly stopped as the realization began to slowly sink in.
"That's Keisha's house!" Sage exclaimed pointing at the TV. "Oh God no, not-"
I stared at the television, watching the scene as my entire being was sent into shock. Keisha's house. Her parents. . . her parents had been murdered. It was the Narrlobi's that the news was talking about. It was Keisha and Evan who'd walked in to find them dead. "Oh, oh no. . . oh God no. . ." I said, panicking. Before my mind reacted, my legs took over and ran me out the front door.
I don't think I let up the whole five miles to Keisha's house. I was in a dead sprint, only caring that I got there as fast as possible. All I could think of was the image of the Narrlobi household, police cars and tape all around. Please let this all be some cruel trick. Let it be another house, just don't let it be her! I mentally screamed.
The Narrlobi's had been more than kind to me. Since the girls had decided to tell their parents about the fact that they were Ronins, they (duh) knew what was going on. They knew the risks involved to their daughters/nieces. After Sage, Cye, and I ended up in Boston without a clue, all of them were very nice to us. For Sage, it had been Mr. Santana and Sam's Aunt Ella. For Cye, the Lewis'. For me, it was the Narrlobi's. Going there made me feel like I was part of a family again. Not that Mike's house wasn't great, but Keisha's family was almost normal. I felt safe there. There, I felt like I was at home.
I skidded to a stop two houses down from my destination. I froze to see that Sage and I had been right- it WAS Keisha's house. My jaw dropped in astonishment as it slowly began to sink in. Yellow police tape. Cruisers and ambulances all around. Reporters and policemen and potential witnesses crowded the front lawn as I stood there, dumbfounded by the events. Ready to scream, I bolted towards the front of the house.
"Hey! Stop right there!"
I barely acknowledged the officer as I bolted in through the front door. What I found there was even worse. Two body bags lay on the floor, no doubt containing Keisha's parents' remains, a distorted set of chalk outlines on the hardwood floor of the living room, where puddles of blood were still sitting. One of the puddles had been tampered with, part of it seemed to have been soaked up by something. The twisted metal piles that had once been the Narrlobi's wheelchairs were in a heap in a corner, looking very similar to scrap metal in a junkyard. Police were swarming around the house, dusting for fingerprints and reporting finds into walkie-talkies.
"HEY! This is an official crime scene, kid get the hell out of here!"
I turned to the police officer who'd yelled at me earlier. "Who did this!" I demanded. I held a fist in one hand, the arm shaking from the solid grip I'd formed. My old temper had been set of, the violent anger that I hadn't felt in so long being magnified by it's long sleep from the long silence. "Who killed them?"
"That's what we're-"
"HOW THE HELL CAN YOU REMAIN SO DAMNED CALM WHEN THERE ARE TWO PEOPLE LYING DEAD?" I screamed, grabbing him by the shoulders and slamming him into a wall. "PEOPLE ARE DEAD AND YOU'RE ACTING LIKE IT'S NO GOD DAMNED BIG DEAL! LIKE HELL IT IS!"
"Kento, stop it!"
I calmed, turned my head to see a tear-strung Keisha behind me. I dropped the cop, turning to my partner in arms as my anger subsided. Her jeans and shirt were stained a crimson red, telling me that she had been the reason some of the blood had been soaked up.
FLASH!
My mind played me a disturbing scene of Keisha huddled over her mother's barely recognizable body, sobbing hysterically into the lifeless form. "Mama! NO!" she wailed, trying desperately to search for some sign of life from her mother. None came, and she continued to cry.
FLASH!
I nearly stumbled backwards, putting a hand on my forehead. Regaining my composure, I half ran up to Keisha. I placed my hands on her shoulders and looked her over, making sure that she wasn't hurt. Aside from being really upset and covered in her parent's blood, she looked like she was physically all right. "Keisha, did they hurt you? What happened?"
Keisha collapsed into me, crying her eyes out. "Oh God, Kento, they're gone, they're gone!" she wailed, her tears soaking the front of my sweatshirt. "Killed them! Slaughtered them!" I hugged her tightly, knowing that I'd crush her if I held her any more. She accepted the embrace and continued to sob, holding me for support. I looked up at several police officers who'd come over to see what was going on between me and the other officer.
"What happened here?" I asked. I held Keisha tighter, her shaking, sobbing form fueling my need to know what had happened. Her parents are dead, Keisha's a wreck, and I don't even know how Evan's taking this. Someone hurt my friends and my love and I'm not going to stand for it! "Who did this?"
An important looking police officer, probably a captain or a lieutenant, stepped forward. He was a tall, chubby man with a balding head and a thick, black mustache that seemed to twitch with the officer's movements. "Young man, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the scene. This is an official investigation and-"
"I'm not leaving here until I get a God damned answer!" I said. I let Keisha go and got right into the officer's face. "What sick bastard came in here and did this? Who killed them? Why are you all acting like you don't give a damn about what happened here? Don't you realize that while all of you can go home to your families that Keisha and Evan won't ever be able to do that again?"
"We do care!" said the man, getting right back into my face. Apparently he was good at arguing, too. I was going to have to prove I was better. "Some sick son of a bitch is running around Boston, mutilating families and. . . God, in all my years on the force I've never seen anything this bad! These people were tormented as their killer took their lives!"
"What the hell happened here!" I said.
A young woman walked up, looking nervous. "The victims were found just over an hour ago with numerous stab and bullet wounds as well as a broken bone in every limb of the body. They'd been dead for an hour by the time the couple's children arrived home," she said.
"Who would do this!" I asked. "They were a well respected-"
"All right, sonny, I think it's time you went home to your OWN parents," said the officer I'd been arguing with. He looked pretty pissed off at me and sent me a very angry glare. "This is a crime scene and you can't be here interfering with this investigation! I should have you arrested for assaulting a police officer-"
"Officer, please!" Keisha interjected, her tears still falling. The police turned their eyes to her, as did I. "He's just as upset over this as Evan and I are! My parents treated him as if he was their son as well! Don't arrest him, please! I beg of you! He just wants to know what happened here as badly as I do!"
The large man seemed to take sympathy with Keisha's pleas for my well-being. He turned to the other officers in the room, jerking his head towards the front door. "Get him off the property. Don't arrest him and don't press any charges- the little lady is upset enough as it is," he said, sounding a little annoyed.
"But Chief, this little-" the officer who I'd pinned the wall tried to argue.
"I said get him off the premises. Don't question me. Just do it," he said. Swearing ever cuss word I knew in all three languages I spoke, scratching with all my strength, and throwing one of the biggest fits I have ever thrown in my entire life, I lashed out as seven officers dragged me out of the house.
"I SWEAR I'M GOING TO KILL THE GOD DAMNED SON OF A BITCH WHO DID THIS! YOU HEAR ME? THIS SICK BASTARD ISN'T GOING TO GET AWAY WITH THIS! THE NARRLOBI'S ARE NOT GOING TO DIE IN VAIN!" I screamed.
"Keep an eye on him," said one of the officers who'd held me down just a few minutes earlier. I stared groggily at the officer, blinking slowly. "Make sure that he doesn't get up again- I am NOT fighting with that kid again. What the hell are his parents feeding him? He's strong as an ox!"
"I don't think he's going anywhere for quite a while," said another.
I half listened to what they were saying. I honestly don't remember much after I was dragged out of the house. After nearly breaking a few arms and legs, they'd decided
that I would be happier doped up on some sedatives. My head was clouded and foggy, every thought a struggle to think through. Suddenly the murder seemed so far away. I was totally calm, relaxed, and sick to my stomach. Every image I saw was blurry and mismatched, a few images doubled over.
They'd put me up against the side of the house, one of the larger officers standing by. I think it was, at least. It was kind of hard to tell from all the drugs they'd stuck me on. Someone spoke to the officer, the officer responding. I vaguely sensed someone come up to me, an orange and black blur in front of me. "Kento. . ."
"Keisha," I said. I felt something crawl into my lap and lay their head on my shoulder. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around her, gently holding her as she sought comfort from me. I felt her relax a little, though she was still very tense and shaken by the day's events. "Are you okay?"
"No, I'm not," she said, the tears beginning to return. "Kento, why did they have to die? Why did someone have to kill them? They were just fine this morning. We were all sitting around the table eating breakfast and talking and- Kento, I'm never going to see them again! They're never going to see me and Evan graduate or get married or have children or- oh, why did they have to die?"
"I don't know," I said, still a little doped up. I felt something wet and sticky brush up against my face. Keisha's hand, still carrying her mother's blood on it. Her mother's life blood. I reached a shaky hand up to touch her hand, clutching it. "I got a little too rowdy back there."
"I'm not mad about that," she said. "Please, just hold me." She fell into my shoulder again. I absently obeyed the command, trying to gather up enough thought and energy to rock her back and fourth. She cried her eyes out, clinging to me like a little girl. I hushed her, trying my hardest to support her even in my drugged up state. They'd have to use every last shot of sedative in the state to get me to the point where I wouldn't be able to comfort my girlfriend.
In the distance I heard what remotely sounded like the screeching of a motorcycle. I wondered why there was a motorcycle around, then went back to holding Keisha. She had her arms around my neck and her head buried into a shoulder. I think I rubbed her back, but like I said, I was still pretty doped up.
"Kento! Keisha!"
I looked up, blinking to see a two-headed Sage standing over us. Both heads looked concerned as the body knelt down to look at us. I felt Keisha turn her head into my shoulder, signaling that the only person she wanted to have anything to do with at the time was me. "Wha. . .?"
"He had to be sedated," I heard someone say.
"Wonderful," said Sage's two heads as they turned to the officer. "Can you tell me what happened?"
"Are you a friend of the victims?"
"Yes, now can you please tell me what happened?"
As the officer explained things to Sage, I continued to hold Keisha. I leaned my head back up against the vinyl siding of the house, gently stroking her head. I closed my eyes, tears beginning to streak down my face. Of all the things that I had seen as a Ronin Warrior, this was the toughest.
Someone had murdered Mr. and Mrs. Narrlobi.
Someone was going to pay.
But having Keisha sobbing as she was in my arms, I knew- even from my sedated state- that there were other things that had to be taken care of first. There'd be plenty of time for revenge later. But not at that moment. No. There needed to be time to heal before that ever happened.
