The Beauty of Death
Part One - The Atrocity in the City
Warning: will be morbid (I mean, the show isn't really that bloody... It's more upbeat than anything else.)
It all began on a night that death claimed as its' own. Five male teenagers had been found outside Dakota City by a nervous old man who would often take walks near the surrounding area. Each of the boys were ripped to shreds as if by an animal. Their blood was splattered across the ground upon which their remains rested. One had lived long enough to sputter a few last words, eyes wide with crazed terror and pain. "Wolf… huge!" Cringing at the broken memories, his words made little sense, painting an indiscernible picture, "Gold, teeth, tearing…" and with a final sinking shudder, he was gone. With his mouth left open in a fearful gape, eyes staring upward at some unseen monstrosity, he was far from being the last to see the awful beast. His words soon became the outcry of many more like him as the reports of the monstrous wolf continued to pour in, leaving investigators baffled. There was only one conclusion.
A metahuman gone out of control. Way out of control.
Virgil was growing frustrated with his inability to do anything about it. "Usually Static can do what Virgil can't, but in this case they're both helpless. It seems like every time I go out and find another victim the mystery keeps growing. I can't find anything. No clues. Nothing." He sighed, leaning forwards and loosely placing his arms against the inside of his parted legs in defeat, "I don't know what to do anymore, Rich."
"Maybe there's a pattern to the killings."
Virgil shook his head at the suggestion, "I already tried that. There isn't a pattern. Adults, children, there's no discrimination between age. The only thing close to a pattern is the fact that most of the victims are male."
"Well, there's a start." It looked like Richie had something more to say but…
The black boy stood without acknowledging Richie's comment, "I'm going to go look around." He grabbed his blue backpack and changed into Static. Flipping out his disk, he magnetized it and flew out the door without so much as a backwards glance.
"Don't be too hard on yourself Virgil…" Richie whispered, watching his friend's retreating form before he closed the door to the abandoned gas station.
Static felt the wind his speed was causing brush against his face, then slid past with a soft mournful whine as if not wanting to let go. It made his blue trench coat billow out behind him in an almost cape-like manner, the wind clawing, trying to hold on if only for a little longer before giving up.
His face was solemn, body subdued as he scanned the city below. His thoughts weren't on the thrill of flying freely. They lay elsewhere, somewhere far less carefree. He'd known some bangbabies to be dangerous, Boom and Hotstreak had both been evidence of that. What he didn't know was that one day he would come across a bangbaby that killed for no apparent reason. None of the victims had been robbed and most had just been regular citizens living lives without enemies. It was because of this that the situation struck home for him. His mother had been killed in a meaningless squabble when a group of troublemakers decided to ransack the city, terrorizing the people who lived there for fun. He hadn't been able to rescue his mother even when he had gone back into time. He couldn't stop her from being a paramedic. Well, this time things weren't going to be the same. This time he was going to make sure he found the killer and put him into the slammer. This time he was going to succeed where he'd once failed.
Static spotted a collection of police cars and an ambulance with lights flashing. There was also a small crowd of people encircling the scene. He dropped down to see what had happened. What he found hadn't surprised him however; he'd almost been expecting it. "Another one?" he asked.
"'fraid so, Static." The officer flipped his notebook shut, looking over at the mauled thing that could have once been called a human. "We weren't even able to identify the victim, not when looking like that. We'll have to do some DNA testing."
The press was already on the scene asking questions, trying to snatch whatever tidbit they could, and for good reason. It appeared that the victim might have managed to videotape his attacker. A lucky break for all those involved if the tape did indeed contain footage of the wolf.
"Is it alright if I saw the tape?"
The officer was about to answer him when some commotion caught his attention. A frantic woman had pushed her way in front of the t.v. news camera and made a prompt statement. "It's a wolf spirit of old, come back to avenge the injustice human-kind has placed upon wolves," she cried. "It was only a matter of time before we paid for the sins of our forefathers!" Two officers grabbed her and pulled her away but she kept preaching over her shoulder, making sure that the world would hear her message.
"The wolf is nothing more than a metahuman. Crazy animal activist!" the officer with the notebook muttered to himself, shaking his head with a disgruntled sigh. He explained to Static, "She shows up at whatever crime scene she learns of to deliver her 'message of repentance'. She really should be locked up."
"I'd have to agree with you on the crazy part." Static commented aloud. An instant suspicion crept within, 'But if she knows where most of the victims are then maybe she's-' his mental deduction was unintentionally cut off by the officer.
"Now, about the tape. I'm sure there'd be no problem with you seeing it but you do understand we'll have to keep it for evidence."
"Do you think you could make a copy of it then?"
"I don't see why not."
- - - -
Virgil knew no one would be home for a while yet. Sharon was off with her friends for the afternoon and his dad was working so it was a convenient time for him to watch the video without worrying about someone walking in on it. He didn't feel like explaining how he got the tape. He popped it in and sank down onto the couch with his eyes level, preparing himself for anything.
The video garbled for a moment then finally showed a clear image of the street where the victim had been found, however the picture moved as if the camera was being moved rapidly. It must have snagged on something because then it stopped, showing the downward angle of a boy not much older than Virgil. The boy's skin was slightly dark but the shape of his face gave away that he was of Hispanic descent. He had brown hair reaching down to his shoulders with a bronze streak on either side of his bangs. On his right cheek he had a circle and to the left of it a triangle very similar to the play symbol on a cd player only flipped so that it was pointing the opposite way. Virgil recognized him from school but didn't know his name. Then he noticed it. The boy had golden eyes, golden eyes. He rewound it and paused it to make sure he hadn't seen things. He hadn't.
He hit play again. The boy on the screen was laughing with a snide look on his face, as if enjoying something tremendously. He slowly walked forwards in a taunting way, towards the man, Virgil figured, and as he did so his form began to change. His skin grew ashen gray and began to bulge before fur of the same color sprouted everywhere. Well, except for the streak running down his chest and on his cheeks, which were bronze; not to mention the circle and the triangle, which remained. His body kept growing in size and it wasn't long before he was forced to drop upon his hands and knees, his legs no longer able to hold him upright. By now he was the size of an Irish wolfhound. The changes continued as his nose and mouth seemed to stretch away from the rest of his face, nose darkening into a dog-like one. A pair of long front canines stuck out of his mouth almost past his now doggish chin. Tufts of long fur ran along the edges of his ears making them appear longer than they probably were. Instead of one tail, he had three rather long fox-like tails, the tips bronze in color.
The morphed boy then lurched forwards and out of the camera's range, but the screams of the man and the snarls of the wolf were enough for Virgil's imagination. He didn't need to know what had happened, he already knew.
It was time to call Richie.
"What's up V?"
"I know who the killer is."
"Huh?" came the startled response.
"Remember that kid we saw a few weeks ago jabbering on in Spanish after walking out of the principle's office?"
"Yeah…" Richie drew out the word as he recalled, wondering what that had to do with anything.
Virgil dropped the surprise on him, "Well, he's our man." Then he went on to tell him what had happened during his patrol, ending with a request. "Keep an eye out for him on Monday. I get the distinct feeling that the police are gonna need a lot of help on this one. If you know what I mean."
The rest of the weekend went by fairly slow for Virgil. He just couldn't wait until Monday dawned. He tried to hide his impatience from his family but botched the effort as the looked-for school day took its time in coming.
"What's wrong with you Virgil?" Sharon asked on Sunday evening, catching him in the hallway before he could get into his room. Her hand was on her hip as she looked at him with a cocked head and that particular older sister inquiring look she always gave when she was annoyed with him. "You've been even more jittery than usual."
She said more than usual because he'd become restless ever since the wolf attacks started. Apparently his acting skills had taken a hike and left him in the dry. "There was another killing, a lot closer to our neighborhood. I'm just ah… getting nervous that's all," he replied with as much sincerity as he could muster at the moment.
Her look softened to one of understanding. "I know. I sure wish Static would do something about it."
"I think he's doing what he can," Virgil stuck up for his other identity. Sharon shrugged without further comment, perhaps choosing to not argue with him, who knew.
The moment he was in his room he closed the door and peeled off his shirt and pants, then slipped into bed with a sigh. He was not sure if he'd be able to sleep. He was right to some extent, not drifting off until around 12:30.
When he woke up groggy the next day to Sharon rapping on his door, it took him a while to comprehend the fact that it was now Monday. It also took him a bit to fully wake up and get his butt in gear so that he wouldn't be late. But by the time he was at school, he instantly fell into another fit of fidgets very much like the one he'd tried (and failed) to hide during the weekend. He just couldn't sit still. His mind kept wandering and so he missed half, if not all of his lessons.
All day he saw nothing of the Hispanic he'd dubbed 'wolf-boy' and wondered if Richie had had better luck than he. He popped the question the moment he was within talking range of Richie.
"Sorry, Virg, I even asked some other people if they'd seen him. No such luck."
"Saw who?" Daisy questioned as she came up to the two boys.
"Oh this one guy," Virgil said quickly. Maybe she knew his whereabouts. "He's Hispanic, probably in our grade. Has this circle and triangle tattooed on his one cheek, and apparently dyed some of his hair a bronze color."
A look of recognition crossed her face. "Arturo Ramírez. He was here for a while but the school booted him out for misbehaving."
"Great… just great…" Richie said dryly, rolling his eyes. He looked at Virgil, "So now what are we going to do?"
"I don't know…" the other admitted.
"Why were you looking for him anyway?" Daisy inquired. The boys bristled a little at the question.
"We were just trying to figure out what happened to him. He didn't seem to be having fun at the principle's office a while back," Richie responded, thinking quick on his feet. It wasn't necessarily a lie, just… a plausible and rather vague answer.
She took it. "Oh."
Richie and Virgil exchanged a hidden look of relief when Daisy wasn't paying attention.
A/N This is my first Static Shock fic. I tried to keep the characters true to their personality, but considering that this is more morbid than the show, some differences are bound to appear. sighs Anyway, please tell me how I did? Thanks a whole lot! -