For the next moment or so, Joey just stared at the curtain with widened eyes. It had made a tremendous thump upon crashing to the stage. And he knew that some curtains were weighty enough that they could cause injury to any unfortunate soul who happened to be in the way. He had the distinct feeling that he and Alister both could have been hurt. "Holy mackerel!" he cried at last.
Alister, instead of looking at the curtain, was gazing upward at the catwalks. He was certain that someone had deliberately sent the device careening downward to hit them, but he could see no one who could have been responsible. Whoever it had been was already hiding again, probably berating himself—or herself—for the failure. And Alister was not pleased. If he hadn't been alert enough, they could have both been injured. "I doubt that was an accident," he remarked then, still looking about even as he knew it was vain.
"Yeah? I'm sure it wasn't!" Joey cried indignantly. "It's gotta be T.G. again!" Upon seeing Alister's raised eyebrow, the Brooklyn boy added, "The theatre ghost, ya know? The stage manager guy was telling us about him. Today's the first time he's actually gotten mean and violent, hurting people." He slammed his fist into his palm. "And I'm gonna see that it ends right here and now!"
Alister was not impressed. "The perpetrator is long gone by now," he replied. "The last thing you should try to do is something stupid." It dawned on him that Joey reminded him a bit too much of his impulsive friend Valon.
Joey was thinking how much Alister reminded him of Seto Kaiba, though he didn't say so aloud. He knew Alister likely wouldn't appreciate the sentiment. And anyway, he had other things that he was worrying about at the moment.
As it turned out, there were no further life-threatening occurrences at the theatre that night. After Joey and Alister met up with the others—and after Alister retrieved his missing belt—they all mused upon what had been happening. But it was getting late and there were no answers to be had. Mike had been taken to the hospital, where Gerald hoped that he would soon regain consciousness and shed some light on the mystery. Alister was of the opinion that Mike didn't seem to be of the same build as the person was who had attacked him, but if that were so, then how on earth had Mike gotten hold of Alister's belt? It all seemed so absurd and strange. But at last everyone opted to return to their homes. They would sort out the nonsense tomorrow, they decided. It was late and they were tired and weary, and in Alister's case, roughed up and hurt. The blood on the backdrop had been his.
"Maybe you should let a doctor look at you, Alister," Mokuba said worriedly as they were heading for the exit. "I mean, you were unconscious and all that." He paused. "You could come to Seto's infirmary," the child offered then. He knew he wasn't at fault, but still he felt especially bad about Alister being harmed, since the young man had been there in the first place because he had wanted to see if Mokuba was alright.
Alister smiled, touched by the boy's concern. "That's not necessary," he answered gently. "I'm alright." He had had quite enough of this strange theatre and really wanted to go home now. Gently he ruffled Mokuba's hair as he headed for the door. "Stay out of trouble."
"He's got the right idea," Joey remarked. "Let's all go home and deal with this weirdness tomorrow. Alright?" He yawned, rubbed his eyes, and went to the exit as well.
Gerald made them promise that they would, indeed, return to solve the mystery the next day, but at last let them go. They were scheduled to begin the official rehearsals in the next couple of days and he wanted the Phantom caught by then. But he had the feeling that maybe they would have no such luck. . . .
Raphael set Liu down on the floor and felt his way into the kitchen, again calling for Valon and being concerned upon not receiving a reply. He had to wonder if the Australian had been electrocuted when he had wandered out to unplug the appliances. It was a worry that he didn't answer Raphael's calls.
Lightning lit up the room from outside, revealing that Valon was laying on the kitchen floor. Raphael frowned darkly, kneeling down next to him and fearing the worst. "Valon?" he said quietly, touching the boy's throat carefully. To his immense relief, he found a pulse, and a strong one at that. He was confused as to what had happened, but that didn't really matter as long as Valon was alright.
A moment later the boy moaned, stirring and raising his hand to rub at his head. "Crikey," he muttered, trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind. He took a moment to remember what had happened before he had wound up on the floor.
"Lay still," Raphael told him gruffly, not certain whether his friend had been shocked or not.
"Oh, I'm okay," Valon replied, sitting up. He recalled what had occurred now. He had received a mild shock, surprising him and causing him to fall backwards to hit his head on the edge of the table. Then he had crashed to the floor and hit his head again. When Raphael had found him, he had been dazed but not unconscious.
Raphael shook his head in disbelief when Valon finally told him of his experience. Honestly, the Australian could be so accident-prone at times, he thought wryly. But at least he was alive and relatively alright. Raphael helped Valon stand up when the boy attempted it. Then Liu was underfoot, rubbing against them both and purring.
"She's not like any cat I've ever seen before," Valon remarked, nearly tripping over her. "I thought cats didn't like people."
"Some don't," Raphael shrugged.
That was when two things happened at once—the lights suddenly came back on and the front door opened as Alister came home. The redhead glanced around the living room and then into the kitchen, running his hand through his rain-dampened hair. He regarded the other two bikers quietly until they noticed and greeted him, to which he gave a vague nod in reply. Upon feeling a light weight against his legs, he glanced down to find Liu purring loudly as she rubbed against this new human.
"I see that Hilda came," he commented then.
"Yeah, and she was a real shrew, too," Valon announced. "So where the heck have you been, chum!" He took in Alister's slightly roughed up appearance with curiosity and a bit of concern. Del Vinci's gang had all been stopped, hadn't they? Suddenly Valon felt slightly uneasy. Maybe Alister had found that some of them were still operating and had gone after them and that was why he had taken so long to get back.
"At the theatre," Alister shrugged. He gave an inward sigh as Liu looked up at him and meowed. Actually seeing the cat reminded him all the more of Miruko's kitten. He couldn't forget his brother's heartbroken expression upon finding the beloved pet missing. And it hadn't been that long afterwards when another tragedy had befallen their family. . . . During the war it had been one thing after another.
"You were gone longer than we'd assumed you'd be," Raphael spoke up, noticing Alister's reluctance around Liu. Alister had never told him or Valon of the reason why he didn't associate much with felines, so it generally appeared as though he simply didn't like them. Raphael wondered why that was and if his dislike of cats would eventually become a problem with Liu around. He certainly didn't want that. "Did you run into problems?"
"You could say that," Alister responded after a moment's hesitation. Yes, he would definitely consider what had happened to him as being problems. Getting into a fight with an unknown assailant, being knocked unconscious, having his body thrown from between two backdrops (as he had been told had happened), and then reviving in a storage closet were definitely not among his favorite kinds of adventures.
Marik was happy when he arrived home and found both Ishizu and Rishid there, waiting for him. He wanted to talk things over with them and see if they possibly had any thoughts on who might be responsible for the whole attempt at playing Phantom. Maybe Ishizu would have even had a vision that might help! Now that he thought of it, he remembered that Ishizu's last major vision still hadn't been completely fulfilled. That would likely happen sooner or later.
"It is good you are home, brother," Ishizu smiled upon seeing him come in and after greetings were exchanged. "We were growing concerned because of the storm."
Rishid nodded, knowing how much Marik despised lightning storms (not that he particularly enjoyed them either). "The roads are always dangerous when it's raining, especially for motorcyclists," he said, watching Marik take off his leather jacket and brush the raindrops off of it. He often worried for Marik when he was off riding that blasted bike of his, especially since the boy often rode so recklessly, but he knew how much Marik enjoyed it. It gave him a certain sense of freedom, which was something he still needed and craved after their family's past.
"I'm careful in bad weather," Marik replied. Of course, he believed that he was careful all the time. It was true that he sometimes did dangerous things while riding his motorcycle, but he was certain that he wouldn't get hurt. "There were lots of odd things happening at the theatre, though," he frowned, proceeding to tell his siblings of exactly what had happened.
They both listened grimly, not liking the sound of what they were hearing. Obviously the person couldn't be just playing idle pranks, unless T.G. was someone with a highly demented sense of humor. In that case, whoever it was probably would require a mental hospital when he or she was caught. Unless T.G. wasn't even mortal. . . . Ishizu pondered over all the possibilities she could think of as Marik brought his tale of the day's events to a conclusion.
"This sounds very serious," the soft-spoken woman remarked then, clasping her hands as she sat on the couch with her brothers beside her.
"I know," Marik said, rubbing his eyes. "And so far, there's no leads. The only possible one is that Mike person, if he'll wake up soon. Then there's the chance he won't remember what happened in the first place," he added dryly.
"Mr. Richards has no suspects?" Rishid asked.
Marik shook his head. "None that he mentioned," he replied slowly, "and I assumed if there were any, he would have told us. Unless Andrea interrupted him before he could finish telling us whatever he was going to. After Andrea came and announced about the body, everyone was occupied trying to get to the bottom of that mystery." He sighed and leaned back, placing his hands behind his head. "I suppose maybe we'll learn something more tomorrow."
Ishizu sighed, watching the younger brother whom she and Rishid loved so dearly. "We must admonish you to be careful, my brother," she said quietly, though she was certain that Marik was aware of the danger he and the others were getting into. None of them were strangers to situations of gravity and distress, after all. Oh, most certainly not! All of their lives, really, they had been caught up in displeasing occurrences.
Marik smiled gently. "I will be," he reassured her. If it's possible.
The rest of the night passed without further incident. Of course the strange electrical activity throughout the city couldn't be explained. The power company was in a quandary dealing with all of the complaints of power outages and overloading appliances. Only a select few had even the faintest idea of what was going on. Seth and Khu were among them.
"For over a month we've been trying to follow the progress of Runihura," Seth remarked, leaning against the fusebox of a large skyscraper as they waited for dawn. "He strikes somewhere every day, it seems, and he's always one step ahead of us!" He knew his brother was not pleased by this in the least. Khu hated the Destroyer; his hatred was all the more pronounced since the madman had been released from the Eternal Sleep. "Maybe it's hopeless, Khu. Maybe we shouldn't have left the Pharaoh's abode."
Khu yelled in frustration. "Don't," he growled low, "talk to me about the Pharaoh!" He stamped his foot, almost looking to be the younger of the two brothers—though he was actually six years older. He was sick of Seth's allegiance to Atemu. And though he knew it was a horrible thing to think, he knew that he sometimes hadn't minded the times when Seth had been possessed by Akunadin's spirit. At least then he had been willing to help Khu in his quest to overthrow the Pharaoh. But not anymore. And Khu knew he shouldn't think of such things. It had been a living Hell for Seth to spend so much of his time being controlled by a madman. Khu should be grateful that his brother was now free. And really, he was grateful. It was just that he wished Seth would normally be more supportive of him and his efforts.
Seth shrugged and half-turned away. "You're always grumpy these days," he complained. But actually, when he thought of it, when had Khu not been grumpy? It seemed to be just part of his personality. He was wound up much too tightly and he seemed to be constantly nervous and edgy. Even in Egypt he had been like that. Seth had always wondered about it. Frankly, Khu had the ability to make Seth very nervous with his short temper and mad rages.
Khu cursed under his breath. "Is there a reason not to be?" he retorted, leaning on his staff and gazing out over Domino City as the pre-dawn light began to come over the buildings. Runihura had been running wild for over a month and it seemed that they were unable to even catch up to him, let alone to seal him away in suspended animation once more. Why on earth wouldn't Khu be grumpy? It was all maddening!
Raphael awoke the next morning to a steady motor and a gentle weight upon his back. At first he couldn't determine what on earth was going on, but then he remembered Liu and realized that she must have come to wake him up. Or maybe he had even been in such a deep sleep that she had curled up on his back and slept there all night, though he somewhat doubted that. But at any rate, she was here now, and seemed very contented indeed.
"You like people, don't you?" the blonde man muttered as he woke up more. He reached behind him to gently lift Liu down so that he could roll onto his side. The cat only purred more, seeming to not mind anything that was done. Once she was placed on the bed, the Ragdoll stretched out and laid her head on the pillow, facing Raphael. Her tattooed paw was also facing him and he took the opportunity to memorize the sequence of the numbers, in case such would later be important.
It amazed Raphael at how docile the feline was, especially after whatever had happened that had resulted in her adornment. It seemed to him that some animals would be extremely shy of people after having the numbers pressed into them, but Liu acted as if nothing had happened. Raphael knew that the Ragdoll breed was noted for loving people and following owners around like adoring dogs, but still it seemed that Liu took things almost to an extreme. She was constantly around one or all of the bikers, seeming to love them each equally and not wanting to be away from them. And while she was highly inquisitive about the home and everything in it, she preferred human company to exploring.
Downstairs Raphael could hear the front door opening and he idly wondered if either Alister or Valon was up and leaving the house for some reason. But then he heard the door open again a moment later and Valon singing some random Linkin Park song. Down the hall the sound of the shower came on, signaling that Alister was up now as well. Raphael was slightly amused. Usually he himself was the first one up. He glanced at the clock, wondering what time it was. He was surprised to discover that it was after nine. It seemed that all of them must have slept in late. But then again, it wasn't all that surprising, he supposed, since none of them had even gotten to bed until it was extremely late.
Now he heard Valon coming up the stairs. The Australian went straight to the bathroom door and knocked. "Hey, Alister! Somethin' came for you in the mail," he called, examining the envelope in his hands. Normally he wouldn't bother coming to deliver such information, but what he was holding was so odd-looking that he thought perhaps it bore immediate attention. At any rate, he was highly curious about the contents.
Alister grunted, letting the soothing feel of the shower beat down on his shoulders. "Who is it from?" he called back. It puzzled him a bit, since there was no one he knew of who would be writing to him. And yet he didn't think Valon would call his attention to a mere bill or some irritating advertisement.
"Dunno," Valon answered. "There's no return address. In fact, all it says on it is 'Mackenzie' in red ink. Kinda looks like blood."
Neither Raphael nor Alister was extremely happy by this announcement. If it looked like blood, chances were that the sender had intended exactly that. And if that had been the intention, it wasn't likely that the contents were friendly. It wasn't as if Alister normally got letters addressed to "Mackenzie," either. He rarely got letters at all, save for the occasional, innocently childlike notes from Pierre Martindale, a sweet young boy whom Alister had rescued once from kidnappers.
"Set it on my bed and I'll look at it later," Alister directed. He had the feeling that he knew what the letter might be—or at least, what the general thoughts therein might contain. And there was no need to involve his friends in that. They had gotten involved with enough of his problems in the past and had wound up hurt.
Several minutes later, when Alister was dressed and in his room, Raphael came and stood in the doorway. "I couldn't help but hear what Valon was saying," he remarked, crossing his arms. He watched as Alister picked up the envelope, looked it over, and then slit it open. He had grown more concerned about what the message might be, especially since now he could see that there wasn't even a stamp on the envelope. Someone had personally delivered it here.
"I'm not surprised," Alister responded, removing a slip of paper from the envelope and frowning at it. The only thing written on it was an equation, one that Alister was not pleased to see.
Nine plus four equals thirteen
Raphael ventured into the room now, seeing Alister's annoyed expression. "What's with the equation?" the blonde asked with confusion, having a bad feeling about the answer.
Alister didn't respond immediately, instead pondering over this message in his mind. "I'm guessing," he said finally, "that it has something to do with the fact that both nine and four have double meanings in Japanese. The nine can mean excruciating torture, to my knowledge, and the four can mean death. Thirteen had no double meaning that I know of, unless it just means bad luck—which torture and death certainly are." Here his voice took on a note of sarcasm. The phrasing on the paper was not what he had expected, but the general idea being conveyed was. This was most definitely a death threat.