Chapter Nine

After the unknown woman's shocking announcement, she fell silent once again, leaving the foursome to ponder over her words and what they could mean. Who was she? Why was she the head of Doom Reborn? If she was even more harsh than Dartz, what was it going to be like to attempt defeating her? And had she truly destroyed Hans' life? Alister was admittedly relieved to know it had not been he himself who had caused it, but still he had to wonder how that woman had brought it about. How was it possible to kill from a distance if weapons were not used? Hans truly had behaved as if he had been suffering a heart attack.

Raphael let out an angry snarl as he laid the young man's body atop an oblong crate and again tried to examine him. But it was no use. He had to concede that Hans was dead. He felt a certain, familiar disgust take hold of him as he realized this. Here was one more life that Dartz had shattered, albeit belatedly. True, Dartz had not delivered the fatal strike, but he had poisoned the boy's mind with his philosophies until Hans had been completely consumed by them. Raphael could have been Hans, had he not been rescued from the darkness in his heart and the Orichalcos. They were probably actually not so different, a fact that both alarmed and saddened him.

"Is he dead, Raph?" Valon spoke finally, bringing Raphael out of his reverie. The brunette regarded Hans with trepidation. He had tried to kill all of them just a moment ago. Maybe this was a trick. Something told him that it was not, however. He was laying too still . . . and he had been in obvious pain a moment before.

He looked over at Alister, remembering the redhead's abrupt action from a moment before. Valon was still trying to get over the shock of seeing Alister let loose with a powerful charge of Orichalcos energy. That Doom Reborn bloke could've killed us if his energy had hit us, but what's this gonna do to Alister now, now that he retaliated like that? He did not know about Alister's duel with Seto on the jet, where the gray-eyed man had lost control of his emotions at least twice, causing immense damage to the airplane both times because of the Orichalcos's powers. If Valon had known, certainly the brunette would have been even more concerned. Alister was usually so calm and collected and rarely ever lost his temper. In fact, earlier that night, when he had wildly attacked the Doom Reborn warriors—and had shoved Valon—it had been the first time Valon had ever seen Alister truly lose all control. He had meant it when he had told Alister that it had frightened him. Never again did Valon wish to see that happen to his friend.

"Yeah," Raphael said now, "he's dead." He clenched a fist tightly as he straightened up. It seemed so unfair, that the Orichalcos was still claiming victims, after all this time. But then, if the Orichalcos symbolized the darkness within the hearts of mankind, then its force would forever continue to cause people to fall, whether they were actually poisoned by an ancient stone or infused with the power in any other way, or not. It was a rather depressing, yet realistic, thought.

And he still did not even understand why Hans had loathed him so very much. Why him any more than Alister or Valon? It had been obvious from the boy's speech that Raphael had been the main target all along. What did I do, specifically? All of us left the Doom organization, not just me. And he did not even remember meeting Hans before, though he tried so very hard to recall any possible encounter. It was completely perplexing to him on what association they had experienced before, if any. Surely they must have met somewhere! Hans would not turn up out of thin air to torment someone who did not have some sort of personal connection to him, would he? That would not even make sense.

Alister let out a shaking breath. He might not have been responsible after all, for which he was grateful, but that did not lighten the weight upon his shoulders. He had still released the Orichalcos's power, without even consciously realizing that he was doing so. It could happen again, only with much more serious consequences. He was not looking forward to the time when that would happen. As it was, he was feeling a certain, unwelcome irritation welling within his heart at the moment. He wanted it to go away, but instead it was only increasing. Inwardly he screamed.

Now Raphael looked up and around at the high ceiling of the warehouse, searching for any sign of the woman who had spoken a moment before. His attention had been devoted to Hans while he had hoped that there was still a chance for the boy to be alive, but now that it seemed there was not, his mind was focused on finding who had spoken. "Who are you!" he yelled gruffly. "You've got this person's blood on your hands!" But no reply came.

"Whoever it is, is probably on her way down to murder us all!" Hilda burst out, completely flabbergasted and wanting more than anything to leave. "If the person's dead, let's just leave his body and get out of here! Why worry about him anyway!" she added as an afterthought. "He tried to murder us all! And why did your hoodlum friend have the same turquoise glow as the dead man!" Her questions were all suddenly spilling out of her mouth due to her frustration and distress with the entire situation. This was all madness! She had been abducted by an organization that wanted to destroy the world, her cousin and his friends had come to rescue her and she had found out that they had all been involved in said organization, a member had a grudge against Raphael, Alister had attacked with a burst of strange energy . . . and now the member was dead and a disembodied female voice was claiming responsibility for the crime. . . . It really was not surprising that the socialite wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

"You know," Alister said suddenly, "I can hear you. You could simply ask me, instead of asking Raphael while I'm standing here." And yet . . . I don't know what to say or how to explain why it happened. I hate what's happening to me! I want it to stop, before I hurt someone I care about. . . . Hilda ignored him.

Raphael growled. "Once upon a time, that could've been me laying there," he answered Hilda darkly, voicing his thoughts as he turned away from the form. What tragedy had befallen Hans and caused him to want to join Doom? Did he have any loved ones who were missing him? The blonde man shook his head slowly. If so, they had lost him ages ago. The fact that his body was dead now was only a final confirmation, complementing the fact that his heart had already perished to the Orichalcos.

Valon swallowed hard. "Do you think we're gonna be able to get out of here, Raph?" he asked then, looking around uneasily as Raphael came back over to them. "It's kinda odd that the sheila would just let us go like that." He frowned, having the feeling that all of them were being spied on. He hated that feeling. It could be anyone at all who was doing the spying, and usually the party did not have good intentions. If that mysterious woman was watching them now, he was certain that her intentions were wicked.

"You are not needed for the purpose that Hans wanted you for." The voice came again, just as firm and just as deadly as it had the first time. "All four of you will be set free . . . this time. I have other ways of obtaining my information." Then there was silence once again and it became obvious that the woman would not speak further.

Raphael was still not pleased, however. He did not trust the person, nor was he anxious to know what her "other ways" consisted of. "Let's go, before something else goes wrong," he said flatly, deciding that Valon's question had been more or less answered.

True to her word, the mysterious woman removed the Orichalcos barrier so that they could depart without Alister having to interact with it again. She watched as the quartet fled, her eyes narrowed and her expression thoughtful. She knew that many of her underlings would not understand why she was doing this. But the fact was that Hans' methods annoyed her to no end.

"Such mediocrity," she murmured. "He was not only thinking too small, but he was acting on a personal grudge and not for the good of Doom Reborn!" She was furious that Hans had used the sacred Seal of Orichalcos for such reasons. When she enacted any plan, it was always something that would help bring about the purification of the world. And right now, she had plans for the former Doom soldiers. She did not want them killed, because they would be useful later on, which was why she was letting them go.

As they finally arrived back outside the warehouse, the bikers discovered that their motorcycles were still where they had left them, much to their relief. Hilda was not so thrilled, however.

"I'm going to have to ride on that?" she cried, pointing randomly at one of the vehicles, which turned out to be Valon's.

The Australian smirked, unable to resist the urge to tease her. "Aw, we'll go easy on ya," he replied before Alister or Raphael had the chance to say anything. "And I'll try to remember not to do any wheelies if you ride with me." He then climbed on and revved the engine, demonstrating by riding in a circle around the others and then sending the motorcycle upon the back wheel. Raphael rubbed the bridge of his nose with a sigh. Alister crossed his arms. And Hilda gaped in horror.

"Raphael!" she wailed.

The blonde man shook his head wearily. "You'll ride with me, Hilda," he announced, going toward his own, green motorcycle and swinging his leg over the side.

"Can't I just send for my driver?" Hilda protested, even as she lowered herself down onto the vehicle. She knew she would have to travel with her cousin and his friends, whether she wanted to or not. Shakily she accepted the helmet when Raphael handed it to her, then wrapped her arms firmly around the man's waist. "I just hope a reporter doesn't see this," she whined, closing her eyes as she admitted that she was frightened. She had never been on a motorcycle before, and she was not extremely pleased to begin now. Will my life ever be normal again? "Everyone would think I was turning into a hoodlum!" Raphael merely growled in response.

As he started the engine and rode off, Hilda tried to keep her mind on other things. When they had been children, Raphael had always looked out for her—but that had been before he had been shipwrecked on that island and had returned completely different. Now, as she was embracing Raphael and trying not to think about the fact that she was riding a motorized, two-wheeled vehicle and that she could fall off, some of the childhood memories resurfaced. But she refused to dwell on them for very long. She had changed as well, and she and Raphael would never be able to get along the way they once had. That did not mean, however, that she was not grateful for the rescue. Just as long as nothing else weird happens. . . .

"So, Raph!" Valon yelled abruptly, pulling up alongside the older man, along with Alister. "Where are we goin', anyway?"

Raphael realized that he did not know, though he was certain that Hilda did not want to go with them to their house. And frankly, he was not sure that he wanted her there, either. He could just imagine all the complaints that she would come up with.

"Just take me to my home!" the woman begged. "PLEASE!" I've seen enough strange things to last a lifetime! And what if that redhead loses his temper again and blasts someone, namely me?

Raphael grunted. "Fine."

The trio arrived home nearly an hour later, after safely returning Hilda to her house in a suburb of Domino City. The woman had remained flippant and rude up to when she had said goodbye and had left her rescuers standing outside. Valon was annoyed, as was Raphael, though the blonde had not actually expected anything different. Alister gave no visible reaction, but he was growing increasingly rude toward his two friends. He did not want to, but it was happening anyway. They understood that it was the Orichalcos's power talking, and they tried not to take things personally, but still Valon was losing patience.

"Just shut up already!" he yelled at last, after an obnoxious comment Alister made as they were going up the walk to their house.

For one moment Alister's eyes cleared. "I would," he answered, "if I was able to." Then Valon felt bad. He knew Alister was not deliberately trying to be frustrating. Alister was probably more vexed at himself than Valon or Raphael was.

Raphael, who was walking in front of them, tried to ignore their banter. It had been a long day and night and he was exhausted. And nothing's really been solved, he thought to himself. I'm sure we weren't set free because the woman took pity on us. What does she have in mind? And how much worse is Alister going to get before it's all over? All he wanted right now was to get some sleep. Hopefully, he thought, he would wake up with some sort of idea on what could be done, though he doubted it.

He frowned when he noticed that the front door was ajar. This doesn't look right, he growled inwardly. I know I locked the door when Alister and I left earlier. . . . All manner of images of what could be beyond the door danced through his mind. Clenching a fist, he looked back to the others. "We might have visitors," he announced grimly. "Be quiet and pay attention in case we suddenly have to fight someone off."

"What the heck?" Valon cried, narrowing his eyes. But Raphael did not answer and instead, he eased the door open slowly. As the Australian stared at the scene before him, his mouth dropped open. "Holy moly. . . . It looks like a tornado ripped right through here!" It looked to him as though every piece of furniture in the living room had been overturned. The couch was upsidedown. Lamps were laying on the floor, and Valon could make out broken glass scattered about. The telephone had been pulled from the wall and was also on the floor, the receiver flung away from its cradle. Chairs were laying on their backs, their front legs up in the air. And the computer remained untouched. Obviously this had not been the work of ordinary burglars who were looking for expensive items to purloin.

Raphael looked around angrily, feeling a certain worry come over him. Where was Liu? He could not see her anywhere. What if whoever had done this had taken her with them? Or worse—what if she was still here, but hurt? Carefully he picked his way over the fallen furniture, calling for his cat.

Alister came in last, shutting and locking the door behind him. "Someone could still be in here," he said darkly. "They might have heard us come and hid in a closet." He could appreciate Raphael's concern for his cat, but right now he felt it the first priority to make certain that the vandals who had done this were not still in the house. Stealthily and precisely he began searching through each of the rooms, looking under and behind other, still-standing furniture and opening closets. Valon looked in the basement. All three of them came up empty-handed.

"It looks like we're alone in here," Valon announced as he and Alister met Raphael back in the living room. The Australian bit his lip, watching as the blonde man got down on the floor and looked into the triangular-shaped opening made by the back of the couch, the arm, and the floor. "Can't you find the cat, Raph?" He felt badly for his friend if he could not. He knew Raphael loved his cat. And he had to admit that he would miss Liu as well, if she was gone. She was unusually friendly for a cat, but Valon liked that much better than a cat who was angry and scratched people all the time, or one that was completely unsocial and constantly hid.

Raphael was not listening to him. He had spotted gleaming blue eyes in the darkness of the space. Liu was in there, but she seemed to be absolutely petrified. He prayed that it was only that and that she was not injured. "Come here, Liu," he called softly. "It's alright now. You can come out." The cat meowed in response, as if to say "Why did you leave me here when mean people came in!" At last she stood and came running out, cuddling close to Raphael. He held the feline gently, relieved that she was safe. Liu purred low, soon beginning her kneading routine of affection to show that he was forgiven. Raphael allowed this, shaking his head in amusement.

Valon grinned a bit, then sobered. "What idiot did this?" he cried, gesturing around the room. "And what did they want?"

"I think I have the answer," Alister announced, producing a piece of paper that he had found taped to the bathroom mirror. Both of the others turned to look. None were pleased with what they saw.

Where did you take our son? If you don't bring him back, we'll make certain to get out a court order for your immediate arrests on the grounds that you are keeping him from us!

Valon stared at the note, looking as though he wanted to burn a hole through it. "They trashed the place because of that?" he yelled indignantly. "Well, I've had enough! They're the ones up to no good!" He stood up, eyes flashing, and looked as though he wanted to kick or punch something—or someone. "I hate them both!" he screamed. This was all too much. It had been a long, wearying excursion, and the last thing Valon wanted to come back to was this.

Raphael narrowed his eyes darkly. "We could file a complaint against them for what they've done tonight," he said slowly, "but unless we have proof of their atrocities against you, Valon, I doubt we can prosecute them for beating and selling you when you were a child." He stood up, still holding Liu, and looked down at the tormented boy in front of him. He was furious at the Paltridges, and he could tell that Alister was, as well, even though he was trying to conceal his emotions to prevent the Orichalcos from taking over again. Raphael would love to make certain that they could not bother Valon anymore. And he would also like to know what they wanted with him now. Whatever it was, he knew it could not be good.

"I don't like the police much, either," Valon mumbled, messing his hair up even more than it already was. "They'd probably take my parents' side and say that we wrote the note to frame 'em." He spoke bitterly, walking forward as if to go upstairs. Finding that a chair was in his way, he glared at it viciously and kicked it aside before climbing up the stairs and entering his room. They hate me just as much as I hate them. Why'd they come back? Why won't they leave me alone and let me live my life?

He flung himself onto his bed, glaring furiously at the quilt. Remembering that his Linkin Park CD was still in the CD player, he decided to listen to the rest of it. Maybe that would help relieve some of his stress.

Raphael sighed, letting Valon go. "We have to try something," he said to Alister. He did not trust the police very much either, but he hoped that if they could find Gabrielle, she would believe and help them in their quest to get Valon's parents brought to justice. And he was outraged at this latest stunt that they had pulled. What were they thinking? Did they honestly believe that their victims would not call the police and that they would be frightened into cooperating with them?

"I know," Alister answered. Feeling the Orichalcos tugging at his sanity once again, he turned away, heading for the stairs. "But I think I'll let you call the police, if you're intending to." Knowing that they needed to leave the furniture as it was in order for the police officers to examine things, he did not offer to straighten the room up. Once the police left, he planned that he would do exactly that—if he was still sane at that time.

Raphael watched him sadly. "Don't stop fighting," he growled, though he knew, of course, that Alister would not. "I'm here if you need to talk."

Alister nodded but did not speak as he went upstairs and took refuse in his room. He did not want to burden Raphael with the tales of his inner struggle. And truth be told, he was growing afraid of himself. He had almost completely lost control earlier, when he had attacked the warriors and then had viciously shoved Valon away. Then there was the unexplained beam of energy he had sent out against Hans'. Maybe his original plan, to distance himself from the other two for a while, was the best idea. He would not move out of the house, but maybe he should stay mostly in his room.

He looked down at the quilt blankly as he sat on the bed. "I'm sorry," he whispered aloud, thinking of his friends. "This shouldn't be happening." Furiously he clenched a fist, just wanting it all to stop.

The next two weeks passed by, with surprisingly relative peace. Gabrielle had tried to put out an arrest warrant for the Paltridges, for breaking and entering, vandalism, and harassment. She believed the bikers when they had told her about what Valon's parents did to him in the past, but she confirmed that there was not actually anything that could be done about that angle without proof. She was searching diligently for anything that might be of help, as were the trio themselves. So far, nothing had turned up. Valon could not remember the name of the building where he had been taken, but he did recall that it had been a child slave ring, much to his friends' astonishment and horror.

"Heh," he had said with a weak grin, "I guess it's a good thing I got so sneaky with gettin' out of places, because I got away from there before anything could really happen to me. 'Course . . . that's when Social Services picked me up. . . ." And he had sighed, shaking his head.

Raphael had tried to check into any and all reports of child slave rings in Australia, including ones that had been shut down, but he had not been able to come up with anything conclusive. Alister had concentrated on searching for a bill of sale, but that was equally impossible in their current situation. It would have helped if they could have actually traveled to Australia, they knew, but they did not have the means to do that—nor did any of them feel that it would be safe for Alister to stray far from home.

Alister had kept mostly to himself over the past two weeks, not wanting to witness or hear anything that could trigger the Orichalcos and result in him hurting Valon or Raphael. He was battling it so very hard, but still he was afraid that it was going to win in the end. He could not keep this up forever, and eventually he was certain that the Orichalcos would wrestle control of his body away from him.

On this morning, he woke up fairly early after a restless slumber. He sighed, sitting up slowly and then climbing out of bed for his morning shower. How long can I contain this darkness in my soul? he asked himself sadly as he locked the bathroom door a few moments later and stepped into the tub. This isn't as simple as just not being angry, he thought, remembering a conversation with Valon from the previous night. I've been poisoned. That makes me become angry even when I'm not trying to, and if I already am, it makes it worse.

He let the water beat down upon him as he attempted to relax and simply enjoy the ritual, as he normally did. As the days had gone by, it had become all the harder to control the ancient force. Alister had experienced immense dizziness throughout his struggle, once even blacking out onto the floor in his room. Valon and Raphael did not know about that time and he was content not to tell them. It would only cause them to worry more, and they were both worrying enough as it was. The situation with the Paltridges was making all of them overly stressed. Howard and Martha had actually not been heard from since they had caused the calamity in the bikers' home, and all three were tense, wondering what would happen when they returned, as they were likely to do.

Doom Reborn had not been heard from of late, either. Alister had driven out to the warehouse several days ago when he had been trying to clear his mind, and he had discovered that the building was vacant and any signs of life—or death—were gone. He had to wonder where they had set up their new headquarters. Wherever it was, he doubted that they would find it unless Doom Reborn wanted them to.

Abruptly he gripped at the towel rack, feeling a wave of vertigo pass over him again. He attributed the increasingly frequent dizzy spells to the Orichalcos balking at his resistance. The harder he resisted, the more it forced itself upon him and the more he would become lightheaded and faint. His body simply could not hold out against the cruel forces he was battling.

After a moment he let go of the rod again, convinced that the moment had passed. The next several minutes went by calmly, but then it came on him again, more viciously this time. He hissed in pain, reaching up to clutch at his forehead. As he did so, he suddenly slipped on the slick surface of the tub's floor and felt himself falling. Before he could stop himself, he was striking his head against the hard side. That was the last thing he remembered.