The Beauty of Death
Part Three - Confronting the Courier of Death
The victim lay staring emptily at the sky, looking but no longer able to see. Her entire body was intact except for the hole in her chest where her heart should have been. The girl's insides glistened with crimson blood, spilling out over her chest and onto the ground. White broken ribs were exposed to the air in upward curves as if lifted in search for the life giving organ that had been stolen. Seeing her like this forced Static to look away and fight the urge to throw up. Sure he'd seen several others in similar if not worse conditions than hers, but he still hadn't gotten used to it. He doubted he ever would.
A thought crossed his mind. If he thought looking at her was disgusting, then why did he keep coming out here to take a look at the victims when he could guess their appearances without even seeing them. He wondered even more on why he did it when he knew he'd be unable to find any clues. Maybe he was just hoping for something to show itself.
"Hu, look like it been her time to die."
Static looked up, slightly startled. Joaquin met his gaze before turning away, brushing past the group of investigators, reporters, and anxious but horrified onlookers who had come to see if the latest victim was one of their relatives or friends.
Static went from being startled to puzzled. Why was he here? "Hey, wait up," he jogged to catch up to him. "What did you mean exactly by it being her time to die?"
Joaquin glanced at the boy out of the corner of his eye. "The wolf spoke to them fates and they decreed her end. That be all."
"Eh?" Now he was even more confused.
"It be just as I said. Ya know, the fates, them three sisters?"
"Uh, yeah…" He already knew that. The part he was stuck on concerned the fact that Arturo talked to the nonexistent sisters. 'Don't tell me he's some sort of crazy that's listening to voices in his head. That'd be about all I'd need.'
The idea of Arturo being insane gave him mixed feelings. The first were ones of reassurance and a strengthened respect for the average person. Everyone had the potential to do some pretty bad things. He knew that from a few experiences he didn't want to recall at the moment. However, a person could repress those dark tendencies if they were in their right mind. The other feelings of concern and worry branched off from this last point. An insane person had little to no control over their actions since their conscience got cut off at times. Thus allowing Arturo to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted without even thinking he was doing anything wrong. Static was no psychologist but no one could say borrowing Sharon's Psychology books hadn't helped him.
"You seem to know an awfully lot about Arturo, mind cluing me in?"
Joaquin studied him, apparently trying to decide whether or not he was worthy of the knowledge he possessed. Finally, the old man nodded.
"You said it would be better if I searched for wolf-boy if I were on the ground. The only problem with that is, there aren't any tracks to follow, no clues of any sort. How exactly did you intend to find him?"
"By usin' my mind." Joaquin answered easily. "There be no tracks 'cause it hides 'em. B'sides that there be no scent for thems police dogs to follow 'cause it can hide that too." He paused, perhaps to collect his thoughts, then went on, "One time the wolf kilt two people in a short span of time, each of 'ems bein' very far apart. The wolf couldn't run around after 'em both out in the open without ariskin' being seen by others. Sos I thought about it 'n made the conclusion it used the sewers."
He looked around as if searching for something until he found it. A manhole. Joaquin began to lift it. "Here, let me," Static magnetized the cover and dropped it off to the side.
Joaquin gave a nod of thanks but there was no smile on his face. He climbed down the ladder and waved for the boy to follow, which he did. Static jumped down the foot drop at the end of ladder and looked around with a raised, glowing finger. Joaquin produced a flashlight and turned it on. "Come," the man motioned, walking.
It didn't take long before the smell of the place got to Static. He stuffed his other hand over his nose. "Geez, this place reeks."
"Ya get used to it after a while."
A moment of silence passed before Static inquired, "So where exactly are you taking me?" Joaquin looked like he knew where he was going. It was as if there was something he wanted to show him.
"Down a ways," Joaquin explained as the two made their way through the sewers. "There be a place no one knows of 'cept for me, the one who made these sewers, and the wolf. It be a section boarded off from the rest. Probably really old 'n abandoned. I found it once when I wandered 'round outta boredom. I worked down 'ere b'fore a whiles back, incase ya wondered. Not an'more though." He paused once more and it was a moment before he spoke again. Either he was having a hard time coming up with what to say, or he just liked to stop talking abruptly, Static mused. The boy almost jumped when Joaquin spoke again. "'bout a week back, I remembered the place 'n decided to check it afta figerin' the wolf used the sewers to kill them two people I told ya 'bout b'fore."
Joaquin stopped and shown his flashlight on the cement wall before them. There was a huge gapping hole in the middle, surrounded by stray scratch marks that were definitely not manmade. The white light soured into yellow, then flickered. Frowning, Joaquin hit the flashlight against his other hand. Its light strengthened momentarily, only to die out again. "'n I just put in new batteries," he muttered to himself.
Static stepped ahead of him and went through the hole cautiously, looking around with his hand held out in order for him to see. The large room was bathed faintly in the purple light but the back was shrouded in darkness, his light not able to reach that far. Large pillars ran along either side at even intervals until they disappeared into the blackness. The ceiling was curved. A few fallen cement chunks lay on the ground, layered with dust just like the entire floor. There were footprints all over, as if someone had passed through here several times before. Some of them were human, others were of a large dog of some sort. Arturo, Static guessed.
"Don't look like anybody's home," Joaquin said coming up behind him. "Just like last time."
"Where does this lead?"
"To the south end." That was the more run down part of the city, where a few large but poor Hispanic families had accumulated. Other people lived there as well, but it was the Hispanic gangs that ruled supreme. (A/N I really don't know the layout of Dakota, so I guessed. Don't go by what I say in this story, it's pure speculation.)
"Figures."
Joaquin looked at him pointedly with those intense brown eyes but didn't say anything. Instead he turned and stared back the way they'd come. Something about his face gave Static the impression that he was going to leave. He didn't know how he had guessed that since Joaquin was just standing there, he just did. "Hey, man, thanks. I'd probably still be going in circles if you hadn't told me about this place."
Behind them, the air that was once still now stirred as their observer moved. An unseen shadow in his world of darkness. With his breath soft and controlled, his eyes brightened into an eerie purple glow. He knew they'd return when the time was right but now was not their time. The fates spoke nothing of them.
"Leave here." Came the solid command, laden with a Spanish accent.
Static whirled around, his magnetic light brightening upon instinct so that it caught the whole form of Arturo in its purplish tint. The Hispanic boy's eyes dimmed, revealing his weird golden ones. Joaquin merely frowned as he looked at the boy.
"Arturo-" Static was barely able to react to the sudden appearance of the other boy when the sound of something metallic clicking interrupted him. He glanced over at Joaquin and saw the gun in his hand. "No!" Without even a second thought he shoved the old man aside. A discharge rang sharp in his ears. He opened his eyes to see what had happened, fearful.
Arturo was clutching his arm, his shirt stained red with blood. He stared fiercely at them before he turned away and ran through the hole. Joaquin growled at Static and shoved him away, intent on going after the runaway. However, Static was already reaching for his disk. He'd get to wolf-boy before Joaquin could kill him. Once through the hole, he magnetized the disk and jumped on, zooming past the man and catching up to Arturo. Man, that boy could run. Even with the short head start he'd gotten, he was already a fair distance ahead.
Static shot out a blast of purple energy at the boy, enough to throw him off his feet or at least stun him. It was the former of the two that occurred. The metamorphic bangbaby rolled back to his feet, his eyes aglow once more. By now he had long, sharp front canines sticking out from under his upper lip and the beginnings of fur about his face, making him demonic in appearance. He was morphing! Or at least starting to. "Your turn to fall under death's sleep will come soon enough, so don't tempt me," he warned, his voice rough like that of a growling wolf.
"I'm not about to." Static frowned, "But what you need is a time out." Purple energy arched in his hands while he fought to keep himself levelheaded. Too many things were running through his mind as he floated there before Arturo. He kept thinking about the victims he'd seen, the bloody images playing themselves over and over again. The knowledge that this boy was the one responsible was burning just as freshly in his mind. He was face to face with the very person who had killed many innocent people without probable cause. He was so close that it was like staring at death itself. He shivered at the thought.
He was so distracted that he hardly noticed the shift in Arturo's gaze as it moved from him to behind him. By then it was already too late. Pain erupted in the back of his head and his world grew dimmer, rapidly swirling into an overwhelming darkness…
- - - -
Richie glanced at the clock on the wall. It was 10:30 and his parents would be expecting him home soon. With one last look at Backpack he sighed, "Well, until tomorrow, pal." He got up, put his tools away and walked out the door.
He had managed to get one of the more difficult parts fixed and it looked like he would be able to finish before his predicted time. This cheered him up greatly. He knew the sooner he finished, the sooner he could help Virgil. It was important to him that he did. A person could only take so much responsibility and Richie felt Virgil had taken on too much.
Richie himself was certainly glad that there were others who had stepped up to help them in crime fighting. Even if V's huge ego tended to tell them off, a part of Richie figured Virgil was thankful for the help. He thought that way because once he became Gear, his friend accepted him as a sidekick. Though, he reasoned, it was probably because they were already friends in the first place.
Sure he'd get bummed out about being nothing more than a sidekick. However, he decided that at least he was able to do something instead of like the old days where he was just the brains behind the whole outfit. "Sometimes I just wish I would get more credit than I do. Oh well…" he sighed hopelessly and shook his head, knowing all to well that, that would never happen. Not in a million years.
The moment he stepped into his house, his mother greeted him softly at the door. Her face was burdened, eyes practically downcast as she motioned for him to come in and sit down at the table. She sat across from him, placing her hands on her lap, looking at him as if she'd break him if she said anything. He frowned worriedly, something wasn't right. "What's wrong Mom?"
"Honey, Sharon just called… it's Mr. Hawkins."
- - - -
When Static came around again, he was assailed by a huge headache. "Get me the license plate number of that truck, will ya?" he mumbled then groaned while holding his head. The smell of the sewers brought him back to his senses and he instantly made a light but both Arturo and Joaquin where gone. "Dang… How long was I out?" he glanced at his watch. 11:35 He'd been unconscious for three hours!
Sighing, he got to his feet and found his disk. He tossed it into the air and magnetized it before jumping on and making his way to the nearest manhole so that he could get out. Fresh air greeted him and he took a deep thankful gulp of it. It sure was good to be back on the surface but his contentment was short lived. He'd lost track of both wolf-boy and Joaquin. He had no way of knowing what had happened to either of them. All he could remember was being hit in the back of the head by something hard.
Richie's muffled but urgent voice called to him, suddenly. He took out the shock box, "I'm here."
"Hey, you okay? I've been trying to call you for the past hour."
"Sorry, I was a little preoccupied."
"Um… V… I…" Richie hesitated, unsure of how to relay his message.
"What is it?"
"Your father… he's…"
"He's what, Richie, he's what?" He demanded softly as an uncalled for fear began to clutch at his chest. The possibilities of what could have happened whirled in his mind, his imagination getting away with him. He had to cool it, he was probably just overreacting. Calm down… he told himself.
Richie reluctantly answered and all the reassurance Static had just given himself wilted away. His eyes widened, breath caught in his throat, hand loosening its grip on the shock box until the forgotten communicator slipped then fell to the ground with a click-clack.
"V?… V? V!" but none of Richie's concerned cries reached his ears.
Slowly his initial stunned state slipped away, replaced by the cold emptiness of disbelief. He clenched his fists, leaning forwards, tightly squeezing his eyes closed. Purple bolts began to dance around his shaking form. Each time they flickered they grew in strength as his emotions raged a war within him. He refused to believe what Richie had told him even though he knew Richie would never lie to him about something like this. But he still refused to believe it. No. It wasn't true!
"No, no, NOO!" The energy lashed out, striking anything and everything in its path. The sudden surge of electric energy caused most of the area to blackout, leaving Static in a veil of darkness. Leaving him in a shroud in which he could drop to his hands and knees unseen by the world, hidden from curious eyes. He couldn't find the strength to stand any longer. He was too exhausted both emotionally and physically. The tears came easily now, any form of barrier that could have held them back was already torn down. He cried, curling up on the ground and letting loose, sobs racking his body.
A/N Yes, the last part was the evil thing you've all come to hate, a cliffhanger. Mwhahaha! Now you have to speculate on what happened to Robert until the next part. Yes, I am evil. Mwhahaha!