Auhors note: Guilty conscience caught up with me. And the desire to reach a limit of over 20 reviews. But a full 100 would be nice too!
Oh and I got a cat now. Wonder how this is connected to the story? Well she is a pure black one and her name is Momo. Got it?
Now Momo, Susanne and Falco faced the strange man. He was rather tall and broad, perfectly dressed and with plain grey hair. His face was a mask of indifference, not crossed by a single emotion. But his dark brown eyes gave him away, as he analized them and the story they had told him. He still did not seem convinced of this whole "Realm of the lost souls" business.
Finally Susanne gathered up the courage to ask him what they wanted to know, even if she was still in shock of her close encounter with his gun. Heck, why did he even run around with a pistol in his suit? "Have you...any idea why you might be here? Someone special you have lost maybe?" She really hoped he would not react like before again. Falco next to her still regarded him rather distrusful and Momo silently studied him, as she often did with people.
"That is none of your business." Was the blunt and with a steely voice delievered answer. Well, they surely wouldnt get very far at this rate. "Listen" sounded like Falco was about to loose his temper, something he was rather too good at "maybe you dont realize it, but she is trying to help you and you should be grateful for that, because to me it doesnt seem like many other people do" Ouch, that had been rather harsh. She was used to his ways, but at times she just wished he could be silent. "I certainly did not ask for her help. At least I know now that I will be spared of yours".
Momo had all the while been watching. She was the only one who had noticed one edge of a photograph peeking out of the right suit pocket. This photo would be the key to his reason, she knew. She hoped that the argument with Falco distracted him enough, though she doubted it. He seemed to constantly be aware of what was going on around him, in a most unnatural way.
Momo streched her hand and grabbed the photograph. In a second her hand was caught in his firm grasp, unable to escape. His eyes were fixed on her, no anger shone through his impassive mask, just the air of a man who could kill. She knew that getting away was impossible. But that did not matter right now. She had gotten what she wanted.
On the floor lay the picture of a young, rather pretty woman. She was tall and had a good-looking figure, underlined by the red dress she wore. But what caught her most was the face, surrounded by shoulder-length brown hair and centered with two shining brown eyes, that had the exact same colour of the mans though they did not hold his coldness. All four of them were staring at the photo and for a second Momo saw a glint of what might have been tears in the suddenly not so cold eyes of the man. She was not going to waste that second. "Who is she?" she softly asked, aware of his hand still firmly holding her wrist. "She was my daughter."
Disclaimer: Any guesses who my man is? And who his daughter is? Oh, I just love not giving away names, though this one really is not that hard. Well, I neither own father nor daughter, though I could think of things to do with the first one.