Now, throw those paper towels away and stop hitting your head against the wall cause you know what they say: It's not over before the fat lady sings!… or was it before the victim tells his story?… I don't remember. Anyway before we get back to the story, I wanna say thank you again for the reviews! I'm flattered…* blushes * I never expected to even get any and look at me go…* smiles *
Leon: * smacks Author on the head with a news paper*
Author: Ouch! * rubs her head * What was that for?
Leon: Stop praising yourself and let me tell my story! Can't you see they're waiting?
Author: Yeah, yeah okay. * backs away * Stage is all yours…Jeez, aren't we moody today…
Leon: It's about time, thank you very much. … * walks on stage *
Author: * whispers * At least he was quiet through the first couple of chapters.
Leon: I heard that! * turns to readers * So, you wanna know what happened to me? I'll tell you…
The Victim's Story
Eyes closed, I rest my head against the cool surface of the tanned window, feeling the low vibration of the car passing through my body. Shifting in the seat, trying to find a more comfortable position, I understand, that no matter how tired I am, I won't be able to sleep. I look at the reflection in the window for a moment. It's still a stranger, staring back at me, with those artificial brown eyes and dark hair. As I 'm about to brush some hair out of my eyes, I realise that I'll have to stop doing this. It looks stupid, now that my hair is too short, to even fall into my face. The suburban landscape rushes by, houses and apartment buildings all lined up along the quiet streets, streets that I know like the back of my hand.
"Hey, Darryl. Pull over a minute." I say to the driver.
"What?" He asks, looking at me in the rear view mirror.
"Are you deaf? Pull over. …I gotta take a leak."
"Now?" I can see the surprise in his dark face being reflected in the mirror.
"No in half an hour. I'm just giving you some time to think about it."
The car slows down, pulling up to the curb, stopping only a few yards short of the heavy cemetery gates.
"Don't be too long." Darryl says, popping a piece of gum into his mouth as I climb out of the back seat.
"What ever." I mumble to myself, slamming the door shut behind me and start walking towards the gate. I know he's watching me, but I couldn't care less. Once inside the cemetery I quickly make my way south, through the endless rows of graves, kicking up the soft earth under my feet, as I cut through a group of oak trees. I stop behind a large crumbling tombstone, slightly leaning towards one side and hide in its shadow at a save distance from the funeral. I can't hear what they're saying, but I can see them and it gives me a creepy feeling. It's amazing how many people showed up. Sure, I had expected some, but not that many. Must have done something right in my life. I scan the crowd of familiar faces for a special person, the person I would give my life for. She is the reason I came here, she's the reason I'm in all this mess.
There's my mom, looking like she's about to have a nervous break down. Man, I wish I wouldn't have to put her through this but I'm sure Matt and Danny will take care of her…And there she is, holding onto Sherry. Can't believe Sherry came all the way from California, just to be here today. I shift my gaze back at Claire as Chris suddenly walks up to her, pulling her into his arms. She's crying, isn't she? God, Claire, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you, but I had no choice. I …
„Takin' a leak, huh?"
Great, just what I need. My own personal gorilla, how I dubbed him, being a smart ass. As I turn around, I'm looking straight at Darryl, towering over me, his arms firmly crossed over his huge chest. I never considered myself short, but compared to him, I feel like a midget. He's at least six or seven inches taller than me and twice as broad, endowed with extremely well defined muscles. A black Arnold Schwarzenegger, if you will. My guess is, that the additional body mass is nature's way of compensating for what he's lacking in the brain's department. No wonder they're only giving him easy jobs, like …shooting people.
"I shake well. Got a problem with that?"
He cocks his eyebrows, behind the dark shades, playing it cool.
"You know the boss don't like it when you're breaking the rules." He says in a calm voice, his jaw constantly in motion, chewing on that nasty cinnamon gum.
"I ain't breaking shit. Or do you see me talking to anyone?"
He nods towards the funeral.
"No contact what so ever is what he said."
"I know what he said."
"Why ya makin' it so hard on yourself? You ain't gonna see 'em again. Sooner you get used to it, the better."
I never thought Darryl would be capable of showing any sign of emotion or understanding for that matter. Guess I was wrong.
"What if I don't wanna get used to it?" I challenge him.
"It's not like you have a choice."
Of course he's right. I no longer have a choice, for I already made it. But was it the right choice? That's the question that's been bugging me ever since that day that I, Leon S. Kennedy, 'died'.
I had an odd mixture of feelings replacing each other in rapid succession, as I closed the door to the STARS office behind me. There was excitement and happiness, anxiety and a little bit paranoia, some sadness and most of all, guilt. I knew I shouldn't have asked Chris this one particular question, but it had been lying heavily upon my heart for quiet some time now and I just had to put myself at ease about it. Then again, there were a few things I maybe should have told him, but I knew it was better not to. For the time being, I decided it was best to return to what I had felt most of the day: excitement and happiness. It wasn't too hard either; after all I was about to meet Claire and expected some really good news. Just thinking about seeing her made me smile as I walked down the corridor towards the stairs, the only sound being my own footsteps reverberating off the thick walls and high ceilings. Unlike the first two floors, the third floor was hardly ever busy and sometimes I envied Chris for the peace and quiet they had up here compared to where I was working when I wasn't out on patrol.
I adjusted my new bulletproof vest for the tenth time today. I had only gotten it yesterday, but hated it already. It was quiet a bit heavier than the old one, thicker too, not to mention that you would sweat like a mother fucker in it, especially in this kind of weather and apparently the temperature was still going to rise within the next few days. Not exactly something to be looking forward to. I couldn't wait to get this thing off. For a brief moment I thought about stopping by the locker room and losing it right now, but decided against it. I didn't wanna make Claire wait longer than necessary. Besides, I could hardly wait to see her.
Half way down the first flight of stairs, I could already hear the mixture of loud voices and ringing phones drifting up from the entrance hall. It sounded like a madhouse from up here. So, not much had changed since this morning. Boy was I glad to get out of here. I love my job, but some days are just too much, even for the most dedicated cop and today was one of those days. From the minute I arrived to start my shift, things went crazy. Chief was tripping over a missing child, a five-year-old girl who got lost in the woods the night before and sent all of us out there, yelling we'd better find her soon. Easier said than done. The forest stretches out over fifteen or twenty miles around the city, dense foliage and sharp rock formations make some parts completely inaccessible and even with dogs it was impossible to cover enough ground. After a few hours of unsuccessfully combing through the woods, Chief finally decided to call in the STARS bravo team and ordered half of us back. Probably cause he realised that everyday-crime wouldn't wait just because the entire police force was playing hide and seek. I was still hoping they'd find the little girl alive and well, but had a very bad feeling that eventually she'd turn up dead, just like that boy Tyron. Due to the shortage of officers doing their regular patrols our work had doubled in no time and by noon my partner Ramirez was so stressed out that I could barely keep him from beating up on some asshole, who had decided that his wife's cooking would improve if he'd just slap her across the room hard enough. Coming to think of it, maybe I should have just 'accidentally' left the room when Ramirez had pinned that scumbag to the wall, instead of pulling him away. And on top of all that, Bernice had called again. This time one of her twenty something cats was missing and she swore it had been stolen. Ramirez was so pissed off that he said he'd strangle the old witch with his own bare hands if it turned out to be bullshit again. Like Ramirez, most people in town thought she was crazy or creepy, because she lived with her cats in an old house near the woods, about three miles out of town and would hardly ever leave it. Some people said she was performing evil rituals and putting spells on everyone who came near her. Needless to say she wasn't very well liked. In my opinion she was just a very eccentric, very lonely old lady, with a strong superstition, in need of somebody she could talk to. I didn't mind going up there every once in a while. As a matter of fact, whenever I had some time to spare on my tour, I'd stop by to see how she was doing and after getting to know her a little better, I found out that she was completely harmless and actually kinda nice. Although I had to admit that she did creep me out sometimes, with her weird prophecies. Like today, when I handed her the cat, I had found trapped in a racoon- hole behind her house. She suddenly grabbed me, looked straight into my eyes and said 'I know what you are scared of. It's the dark shadow that keeps following you and it's growing again. But do not worry. You are a good spirit Leon and you made the right choice. Don't be sad either. They will miss you, but they will be save.' It still sent a chill down my spine, thinking about it. There was another reason why I frequently visited her: her stories. She kept telling everybody who was willing to listen about how there were evil spirits haunting the woods and demons living in a shack deep in the forest, hiding from the sunlight during daytime and if you listened closely, you could hear them cry. Of course nobody believed her. Nobody except… me. Now I didn't believe in good and evil spirits, or demons or other supernatural things for that matter, but I knew there was something out there in those woods and if my guess turned out to be right, it sure wasn't good.
As I was about to step into the entrance hall, I realised I was brushing my hair back again. Apparently I always did that when I was thinking hard about something. Never noticed it until Claire pointed it out to me one day. Yeah, I should probably stop worrying and start enjoying the day. I would pick up Claire at the hospital, maybe take her out some place nice tonight to celebrate the good news and re-lax.
The hall was crowded with people shouting and complaining, waiting impatiently for somebody to take care of them. It was hard to get to the reception desk without somebody stopping me every other second, saying they had a 'quick question' or yelling how they'd been waiting for 'hours'. I wished I wouldn't be in my uniform anymore or at least had a big sign across my chest saying 'Off duty. Complain elsewhere.'
When I finally made it to the counter, I saw Lopez hunched over a stack of files, deliberately ignoring the ringing phone next to him.
"Hey Mike. Having a busy day?" I said, grinning gloatingly as I leaned lazily against the counter. He looked up at me with a no-shit-expression on his face.
"And the good part is, it's only just begun for me." He said.
"I already had my fare share of fun today…Do me a favour, scratch me off the board. I'm outta here."
Mike checked his watched, then raised his eyebrows as he looked at me.
"Does the Chief know you're headed out early?"
"No." I answered, "But Chris promised to back me up."
"God, it's gotta be good to have friends in higher places." Grinning he turned towards the duty board, erasing my name.
"What's the hurry anyway?" Mike asked on his way back, still ignoring the phone.
I smiled at him, all thoughts about missing people and scary forest-dwellers forgotten.
"I'm about to find out the sex of the baby."
He smirked, producing a crumbled bill from one of his pockets and waved it in front my face.
"I bet you ten bucks it's a girl."
I stretched my open hand over the counter, laughing.
"You might as well just hand that bill over right now, cause it's a boy, no doubt about it."
Mike quickly pulled his hand back, tucking the bill under a pencil case on his desk.
"Yeah right, that's what I said every time my wife got pregnant and look at me now…four girls."
I offered him a semi sympathetic smile, then reached over the counter and snatched the bill from his desk. Easiest ten bucks I ever made.
"Keep trying, buddy." I tried to comfort him.
"No thanks. Five women bitching and blocking the bathroom in the morning is about all I can handle."
Maybe I should add that to my things-to-do-list, 'Show Mike how it's done', I thought bemused as I left the police station through the main entrance. I already had a few things on my list, like taking Claire to my uncle's beach house for the weekend, spend some time alone with her while we still could and just recently I had added the intention to do Chris a little favour. He wasn't a bad Basketball player, actually he'd become quiet a challenge lately, but let's face it, nineteen out of twenty times he just couldn't beat me and I knew it bugged the hell out of him. So today, I would let him win, entirely unintentional of course.
Only two steps away from my car, I reached for the car keys in my pocket, only to find that they were gone. Shit! I could have sworn I had put them in my pocket before entering the STARS office. Slightly annoyed, I began to check every pocket in my uniform and came up empty handed. Great job Kennedy, I thought, leave half an hour early and then spend it on searching for your damn keys.
"Missing something?"
I was startled when I suddenly heard Chris yelling across the parking lot. I looked up to the third floor window, where he was leaning onto the windowsill, grinning.
"I can't find my damn keys!" I answered, not even trying to hide my annoyance.
Chris stuck out his hand waving something at me. By the looks of it, it was my keys. I was relieved that they had surfaced, but not exactly excited about having to go back through the crowded entrance hall. Half way down the driveway, I stopped. I should be damned if I was gonna climb all the way up to the third floor again.
"You know what, just toss 'em" I shouted at Chris, carefully shielding my eyes against the bright early afternoon sun, standing high in the sky above the PD building. I stretched out my arms as Chris gave me the 'okay' sign impatiently waiting for him to drop my keys.
"Leon! Leon, over here!"
I jerked my head around in surprise and a second later I heard my keys hit the asphalt with a low clank. Claire was standing in front of the main entrance, smiling brightly and waving her hand at me.
"Claire? What are you doing here?" I yelled at her as a squad car passed me on the way to the empty parking space in front of me. From the corner of my eye I could see it was McKinley and Johnson returning from their last tour of the day.
"I came to pick you up." It was kinda hard to hear what she said over the engine noise while I crouched down to scoop up my keys.
"Didn't I tell you to wait for me at the hospital? Why you're always ignoring what I say?" I was semi serious when I asked her, knowing that it would have little to no effect. When had she ever listened to me? But looking at her with that innocent smile on her face, bouncing a plastic bag against her knees, I just couldn't be mad at her. Hell, I could never be mad at her, even when I tried real hard.
"Well, I thought you wanted to hear the good news as soon as possible." She said.
"I do, but you shouldn't be walking around all over town, carrying heavy bags in your condition."
By the way she knitted her brows, I could tell she was gonna scold me again. She didn't like when I told her to take it easy, but to me it was common sense that I would take care of things like carrying stuff while all she had to do was, well, being pregnant I guessed. It made me shudder, knowing that she had walked all the way from the hospital. There was a reason why I had offered to pick her up. It simply wasn't save and I was sincerely worried about her. Why couldn't she understand that? I saw her squint at something for a moment, before I heard an unfamiliar voice behind me.
"Is this the guy?"
Then another voice, deeper.
"That's him."
I didn't pay much attention to it, since Claire was about to start up our conversation again.
"You're making it sound like I was…" I never got to hear the end of it.
"It's time to pay, sucker!" The deep voice shouted from behind and there was a click, the sound a shotgun makes when you pump another round into the chamber. My heart skipped a beat. Was he talking to me? I spun around, instinctively reaching for the gun strapped to my belt and I was staring directly into the barrel of a Remington M1100, incapable of moving, like a rabbit staring into the headlights of an oncoming car. Suddenly everything happened incredibly fast. A woman screaming somewhere to my right, the dark mask of a face in front of me grinning like a madman, a bright light and BOOM! It was like Mike Tyson hit me in the chest with his hardest fucking uppercut ever, knocking the wind out of me. I was thrown backwards by the blow and for a split second the ground beneath my feet disappeared before I slid across a smooth surface and my back impacted with something hard, a sharp pain in my right elbow, the sound of shattering glass, more shouting and screaming. What the hell just happened? Everything around me was a blur, so surreal, moving in slow motion as I tried to grasp what was going on. It was hard to breath and then …there was pain, very real. I clasped at my throbbing chest and something wet and sticky forced its way through my fingers. Blood! Still dizzy from the lack of oxygen I slid of the hood, struggling to my feet, trying to keep my balance. The blood felt surprisingly warm, considering… that it was fake. Shocked and fascinated at the same time, I pressed a little harder against the bulletproof vest and more of the thick crimson liquid came spurting out, soaking the front of my uniform. It looked so …real. There was another shot, then a quick pain in my thigh, like a bee-sting and almost instantly I felt my legs go numb, my knees gave and before I hit the ground, I was out.
A/NAuthor: * shocked * WHAT?! You're gonna stop right there?
Leon: Yup. * evil grin * I'm kinda hungry.
Author: You GOTTA be kidding me! Now? Now that everything's about to be revealed? You can't do that! They have a right to know how the story ends!
Leon: * gets up * And I have a right to get something to eat… So you'll excuse me. * walks out *
Author: * shakes head * I knew it was a mistake to let HIM tell the story. But do not worry. We're almost there and as soon as he gets back, he'll finish it. * mumbles to herself * I'll make sure he will…
Next Chapter: The Victim's Story (part 2)
We still don't know who 'killed' Leon or why, unless you can guess it, but the next chapter will be the last one. The one that reveals it all…