Warning: I don't own DigimonÓ, or any of the O/C mentioned in this story. Any infringement on copyright is completely unintentional.
My first fic was a straight up, fun yaoi fic. But I figured that I'd get morbid for a while, and throw some sex in later. So, straight from the file cabinets in the back of my dusty head, comes a story I hope you won't soon forget.
Prologue
In any normal Earth society, children were expected to do only two things: Learn and be social. But alternate realities aren't quite as simple. Take this one for example. For the past 20 years, adults in their forties and up have been dying suddenly due to unknown symptoms. Scientists couldn't explain this abnormal phenomenon, even with the advanced equipment used in their everyday work. As people around the world died out, the young men and women who were supposed to be learning and being social were forced to begin working various jobs: Newscasters, Doctors, Scientists, Business Executives, Garbage Collectors, and so on. But perhaps the most dangerous job for a young man or woman in their early teens was to be on the Police Force. Putting their lives on the line every day to defend the other citizens was perilous, and many ended up quitting due to lack of motivation, being overworked, and being underpaid. Some even quit involuntarily…by a stray bullet or a well aimed shot at the vital organs.
Yes, it was a dangerous job to have. But for some people, it was a way of life; a sort of knack that they developed in their earlier youth for hunting down the evil guys and giving them what they deserved. This story looks at one of these young men, a detective on the Tokyo Police Force: Daisuke Motomiya.
Distorted Reality, Meet Death
"Move back! Everyone get the hell out of my way! Get those cameras behind the damn tape Yoshi, or I'll bust your ass back to bike patrol!" Detective Daisuke Motomiya was in a bad mood. He'd been working 20 hours non-stop, with over 4 homicide cases to investigate since he came on duty. What was even more upsetting to him was the similarities in the deaths: all clean slices to the throat. No one had seen these people die, or even heard a commotion; not a single witness to be found anywhere.
As he approached the victim, another detective from the department came up to ask him a question, but got shot down before he could say a word by Daisuke's ranting. "I hate this. I fucking hate this. Goddamn psychopath goes around and kills four people in one day, and I can't find a single piece of evidence!"
The other detective, a young blonde man, rolled his eyes as he handed Daisuke a pair of latex gloves. "Well, you can't expect a professional like this guy to just leave a clue lying around Dai. The forensics department is working like mad to do DNA tests, autopsies, weapons research; and it's all for you! So just relax until you get the results, ok?"
Daisuke grunted as he put the gloves on and began to look around the ground-floor apartment. "I'm not sure why I even agreed to work a double shift! I swear, the chief has a way with words T.K. She could make cutting my right hand off sound like a party!"
Takeru chuckled softly as he put his eye scanner on. "Yeah. She somehow tricked me into working a double shift as well. Don't remember how though. I think she said something to the effect of extra pay…although with her that might mean another pencil sharpener for my desk. She keeps getting me these stupid sharpeners as a way of giving me extra 'pay'. I think I'll get her a stapler-bomb for her birthday…"
Daisuke flashed his friend a smile then went over to the coroner. "Well, what'dya think Max? Same calling card?"
The coroner ran his hand through his hair and handed Daisuke a clipboard as he zipped up the body bag. "Yup. Looks like the same type of cut at exactly the same angle. I'll give you a positive ID when I get back to the station."
"Alright. I'll see you there. I go off duty in an hour anyway." He handed the clipboard back to the coroner and waved as he walked back to Takeru. "Alright. Leave the rest of this crap to the rookies. I'm hungry, tired, and I need a drink. Want to join me?"
Takeru cracked his neck and yawned. "Yeah. I need a drink too. Let's get out of here."
Daisuke shouted some orders at a sergeant, then got in his car. Takeru got in the passenger seat and sunk into the cushy leather. "MMmm, comfy. Good thing the station is only a few minutes away, or I'd probably sleep here tonight."
The car began to move and Daisuke radioed in to the OPS center. "This is Theta-4. I'm coming home." He listened to the operator affirm his message, then floored the accelerator.
***
Daisuke took another gulp of his Whiskey and made that distorted face everyone does when they drink hard alcohol. He looked across the table at Takeru, who had just finished his fourth shot of Tequila. "I think you've had enough, T.K. Go home and get some sleep."
The blonde grunted, hiccoughed, then smiled drunkenly at his friend. "And you said I couldn't hold my alcohol…"
The dark-haired detective picked up his friend and brought him outside the bar to a taxi. The cabbie opened the door for Daisuke, who threw his friend inside. "Take him to his apartment. He'll tell you where it is…if he doesn't pass out." The cabbie nodded and drove off. Daisuke began walking down the street to his own apartment, which was only a block away from the station. He really needed some sleep.
Authors Note: So kids, how's that for a beginning? Like it? No? Too bad! MUAUAUAHAHAHA! Anywho, R&R. Comments appreciated. Now to plan my next evil chapter…
My first fic was a straight up, fun yaoi fic. But I figured that I'd get morbid for a while, and throw some sex in later. So, straight from the file cabinets in the back of my dusty head, comes a story I hope you won't soon forget.
Prologue
In any normal Earth society, children were expected to do only two things: Learn and be social. But alternate realities aren't quite as simple. Take this one for example. For the past 20 years, adults in their forties and up have been dying suddenly due to unknown symptoms. Scientists couldn't explain this abnormal phenomenon, even with the advanced equipment used in their everyday work. As people around the world died out, the young men and women who were supposed to be learning and being social were forced to begin working various jobs: Newscasters, Doctors, Scientists, Business Executives, Garbage Collectors, and so on. But perhaps the most dangerous job for a young man or woman in their early teens was to be on the Police Force. Putting their lives on the line every day to defend the other citizens was perilous, and many ended up quitting due to lack of motivation, being overworked, and being underpaid. Some even quit involuntarily…by a stray bullet or a well aimed shot at the vital organs.
Yes, it was a dangerous job to have. But for some people, it was a way of life; a sort of knack that they developed in their earlier youth for hunting down the evil guys and giving them what they deserved. This story looks at one of these young men, a detective on the Tokyo Police Force: Daisuke Motomiya.
Distorted Reality, Meet Death
"Move back! Everyone get the hell out of my way! Get those cameras behind the damn tape Yoshi, or I'll bust your ass back to bike patrol!" Detective Daisuke Motomiya was in a bad mood. He'd been working 20 hours non-stop, with over 4 homicide cases to investigate since he came on duty. What was even more upsetting to him was the similarities in the deaths: all clean slices to the throat. No one had seen these people die, or even heard a commotion; not a single witness to be found anywhere.
As he approached the victim, another detective from the department came up to ask him a question, but got shot down before he could say a word by Daisuke's ranting. "I hate this. I fucking hate this. Goddamn psychopath goes around and kills four people in one day, and I can't find a single piece of evidence!"
The other detective, a young blonde man, rolled his eyes as he handed Daisuke a pair of latex gloves. "Well, you can't expect a professional like this guy to just leave a clue lying around Dai. The forensics department is working like mad to do DNA tests, autopsies, weapons research; and it's all for you! So just relax until you get the results, ok?"
Daisuke grunted as he put the gloves on and began to look around the ground-floor apartment. "I'm not sure why I even agreed to work a double shift! I swear, the chief has a way with words T.K. She could make cutting my right hand off sound like a party!"
Takeru chuckled softly as he put his eye scanner on. "Yeah. She somehow tricked me into working a double shift as well. Don't remember how though. I think she said something to the effect of extra pay…although with her that might mean another pencil sharpener for my desk. She keeps getting me these stupid sharpeners as a way of giving me extra 'pay'. I think I'll get her a stapler-bomb for her birthday…"
Daisuke flashed his friend a smile then went over to the coroner. "Well, what'dya think Max? Same calling card?"
The coroner ran his hand through his hair and handed Daisuke a clipboard as he zipped up the body bag. "Yup. Looks like the same type of cut at exactly the same angle. I'll give you a positive ID when I get back to the station."
"Alright. I'll see you there. I go off duty in an hour anyway." He handed the clipboard back to the coroner and waved as he walked back to Takeru. "Alright. Leave the rest of this crap to the rookies. I'm hungry, tired, and I need a drink. Want to join me?"
Takeru cracked his neck and yawned. "Yeah. I need a drink too. Let's get out of here."
Daisuke shouted some orders at a sergeant, then got in his car. Takeru got in the passenger seat and sunk into the cushy leather. "MMmm, comfy. Good thing the station is only a few minutes away, or I'd probably sleep here tonight."
The car began to move and Daisuke radioed in to the OPS center. "This is Theta-4. I'm coming home." He listened to the operator affirm his message, then floored the accelerator.
***
Daisuke took another gulp of his Whiskey and made that distorted face everyone does when they drink hard alcohol. He looked across the table at Takeru, who had just finished his fourth shot of Tequila. "I think you've had enough, T.K. Go home and get some sleep."
The blonde grunted, hiccoughed, then smiled drunkenly at his friend. "And you said I couldn't hold my alcohol…"
The dark-haired detective picked up his friend and brought him outside the bar to a taxi. The cabbie opened the door for Daisuke, who threw his friend inside. "Take him to his apartment. He'll tell you where it is…if he doesn't pass out." The cabbie nodded and drove off. Daisuke began walking down the street to his own apartment, which was only a block away from the station. He really needed some sleep.
Authors Note: So kids, how's that for a beginning? Like it? No? Too bad! MUAUAUAHAHAHA! Anywho, R&R. Comments appreciated. Now to plan my next evil chapter…