It was late in the evening when police chief Fukuda stepped into the police station. Detective Botan, who had stayed overtime to try and get ahead of his paperwork, looked up as his boss entered the workroom.
"Chief," he stated, "I thought that you were going home."
"No," his boss stated, "Need to check the computer."
Botan frowned. There was something not quite right about his boss. He'd been a detective for years, and such experience always taught him how to properly read and evaluate those he saw, and right now, the boss was throwing up quite a few red flags. He was looking around the workspace, a workspace that he'd been in for decades, with a sense of unfamiliarity, his eyes darting around the way many do when they're in a new room. He was sweating, as well, even though the AC was at full blast in the hot late Summer evening. Plus,
"Hey, chief," asked Botan, "Is everything okay?"
Fukuda didn't answer. He stepped away toward his office, moving at a determined pace. Botan watched as his boss went forward. He considered going back to work, but his inquisitive mind could not let him get back to work. He had to find out what was wrong with his boss. He pushed his chair back, stood up, and headed up toward the Chief's office. His boss had left the door open, enabling him to get a good look at-
Botan froze, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. His boss was hunched over his computer like a hungry animal digging into his meal, not even bothering to sit. His boss was...glowing, with some sort of red, malevolent light. His skin was beginning to crack like dry earth. Fukuda, who in his career had been used to seeing many a gristly murder, felt a warm gush as his bladder let go. A scream coming up his throat died in his mouth, but the squeak that came in its place was enough for his boss (or the thing that resembled him,) to look up from his computer.
"What?!" snapped Fukuda, and it took a moment for Botan to understand, because his boss hadn't spoken in japanese, but in english. The action seemed to take a toll on Fukuda, as the cracks on his skin widened, and the glow grew stronger. Then, his boss abruptly exploded. Blood and viscera flew in all directions, spraying Botan and the office he stood in. The detective finally managed to scream as fell back, landing squarely on his back. Looking up at the red tinted fluorescent lights, he was too deep in his shock to barely register the man who stepped over him, looking down at the detective as though he were some disgusting form of insect.
This man was not the chief. His features were western, with slicked back hair and pale blue eyes. He wore a leather jacket and dark pants, and was radiating with a raw red energy of some kind. A scar was on the center of his forehead.
"Do you have a problem with letting your boss work?" the man sneered in english. Botan didn't reply, his mind having gone catatonic. The man who had burst from his boss raised a hand pulsating with malevolent energy, and the floor was painted with another fresh coating of blood.
Lowering his hand, the man looked around the gore-soaked room with a frustrated expression. This should have been a simple errand. If there was any lead to his mother's whereabouts, it would make sense that the chief would know. Possessing his body and memories had seemed like a good idea. However, the lummox had generally proven to be unreliable, with a subpar mindset. There had, however, been one interesting lead. The chief of police had received a phone call from one Director Kakuzawa, the leader of a secret institution that studied some sort of species of human. The director had stated earlier over the call that he had sent an email to the chief's computer at his office, one that would relate to, as quoted by the Director, "shed some light on this little incident."
And so, here he was in a foreign country, trying to access the computer, only to realize that the blustering windbag he'd possessed hadn't been able to survive the trip to the station. He'd been so close to opening the chief's inbox, until that insufferable detective had interrupted him, costing the precious few seconds that he'd needed. Now the computer was ruined, it's monitor shattered by the energy that had discharged from the chief once his body had given in. The radiating man let out an aggravated sigh.
His brother was going to hate this.
"So, who've we got here?"
This was shaping up to be a good day for Bando. He'd gone up and down this whole beach, looking for some sort of lead that could point him to the direction of Alma. And lo and behold, here it was, another one of those freaky Diclonius.
Nana looked up at him with a sense of confusion and wonder, her eyes not yet registering the gun in his hand. "Can I help you?" she asked with curiosity.
Bando grinned wickedly. "You're one of them, aren't you? A Diclonius."
"You know about my kind?" asked Nana. She was looking at Bando as though she had discovered an interesting new beetle.
"That's right, kid," said Bando cockily, "And I also know about Alma. I'm hunting her down, see, and you look like a promising lead. I heard you fought her, right? Tell me everything you know, and I might not kill you."
Nana frowned at the mention of that name, and the memories that it brought to her. Memories of blood and flesh torn asunder. Her eyes darted to the gun, then back at Bando with a determined glare. "You can't hurt me. A hundred of you with guns wouldn't be able to harm me."
Bando was dumbfounded. He knew that these freaks were tough, but did she honestly think that he didn't think this through? His .50 cal tungsten rounds would say otherwise. They'd knock those vectors asi-WAS SHE ACTUALLY WALKING AWAY?! Indeed, Nana had lost interest in the big man with a gun. She hadn't forgotten the will of her Papa. She needed to find somewhere to lay low until he came for her. A vein pulsed in the side of Bando's forehead. He leveled his gun toward her, intent on blasting open one of her knees. Then he'd-
*click*
Bando froze. There was no denying the sound of a hammer being pulled back, or the feeling of the cold tip of a gun barrel being pressed against the base of his skull, less than an inch from his brain stem. How on earth had someone snuck up on him? Nobody snuck up on him!
"Who are you?" snarled Bando, "Do you have any idea what you're doing?"
No answer. Nana had stopped, and was looking back at him with wide eyes. Bando was through with all of this. He didn't know whether or not this guy was a cop, but right now, he couldn't have cared less. He was in his way, and that was all that mattered. Bando pivoted his head around the barrel, his arm spinning around to clock his assailant in the head, maybe smash his brains in...only to have it strike thin air. Bando couldn't get a good look at his assailant, for he moved like water, practically flowing around the strike. Bando thrusted his gun arm toward the assailant, only to have his wrist grabbed and moved out of harm's way. His trigger finger, already itching, fired off a shot that went wide. The assailant spun about, now grabbing Bando's arm with both hands. He bent down, flipping Bado over his shoulder, and sending him down on his back. Bando's back struck soft sand, but the force of the flip was still enough to knock the breath from his lungs. He was filled with indignation, rage, and puzzlement. This had never happened to him before. It couldn't be happening now. No stranger could best him.
Bando's shaky vision was filled by his assailant as he stepped over him. A heavy boot pressed down on his chest, and two guns pointed down at his face. With a jolt, Bando realised that one of those guns was his own. The stranger had disarmed him, and he hadn't even realised it. Looking up past the barrels, Bando finally got a clear look at the man who had ruined his evening.
The stranger had features that made him look distinctly western, or maybe european. His figure was similar to Bando's, fit with a respectable amount of muscles. He had a closely trimmed beard, and dark brown hair that nearly touched his shoulders. His nose was slightly wide, and his eyes, which were a hard blue, were glaring down at Bando with steely contempt.
"Hey, who are you?!" snarled Bando. The stranger didn't reply. But his fingers did tighten around the triggers.
"Wait!"
The stranger blinked, then turned his head toward the sound of the voice, indicating that he had heard. He kept his eyes on Bando, though, lest he try anything reckless. Nana, who'd clearly spoken, was now facing the two men with a look of panic and concern. Bando looked at the girl with some confusion.
"Please, no more violence!" cried Nana, "You don't have to kill him!"
It was most likely the shock of being slammed on his back, but it seemed to Bando that something softened in the features of his assailant. A boot was removed from his chest, and the stranger stepped back, putting himself between Bando and Nana. He was not, however, amicable enough to return his gun to Bando, but continued pointing it, as well as his own gun, at Bando's chest. Bando got up, his face red with anger, shame and confusion. He considered just launching himself at the assailant, regardless of his guns, but the confusion and shame, new feelings that blared loudly in his head, would not allow him. Instead, he raised a trembling finger at the person who'd dare to wound his pride.
"I don't know who you are, pal, but today you've made yourself a blood foe. I will hunt you down, and when I do, you'll wish that you hadn't succumbed to the wishes of a little girl. I'll be seeing you. Count on it."
The stranger didn't seem the least bit fazed by Bando's declaration, but merely waved one of the guns off to the side, indicating for Bando to leave. Bando shot the stranger one last look of wicked hate, before turning to leave. His mind was already formulating how to get back at this guy, but he hadn't forgotten who his main target was: Alma.
The man watched Bando leave, then turned toward Nana with an expression of concern. Nana blinked, then grinned.
"I'm okay, sir. I'll be alright. Thank you."
She grinned, and the stranger, to her surprise, actually grinned back, though it was not as strongly as she did. He turned and headed down the beach in the direction opposite of her, still carrying his guns. Nana watched as the man set off, then turned and headed off toward the city. The sooner she found shelter, the better.
As the sun finally set on what had been a very stressful day, Kouta stepped outside of Maple House, a bowl of dog food in his hand. Wanta, who'd been resting comfortably in his little house, looked up eagerly, and ran forth, eager for his dinner. Kouta set the bowl down, and he eagerly began to dig in. Kouta had gone through this daily routine with the stiff, lifeless motions of a robot, one who does the actions, but without any real meaning. Indeed, at that moment, his mind was a million miles away, wondering about ghosts and monsters, and...Alma.
That name had never fully left his mind since he'd heard it. It was lodged in his mind, like a cold sore that the tongue can't help but dig into. At long last, Kouta finally had a name for the creature that had terrified them, which seemed to make the threat all the more real. But what else did they know? It seemed that Nyu was actually friends with this phantom. At first, Kouta had a hard time believing any of this, but the more he thought of it, the more it made sense. Nyu had clearly not been herself since they'd first found her on the beach. And Alma didn't like that. It didn't like that she was living a life of her own, making new friends without Alma. So the spectre had lashed out at them, all because of sheer jealousy.
Kouta walked back into the house stiffly. Nyu and Yuka were both preparing for dinner, with the former being under heavy watch by the latter. Kouta stood in the hallway, watching the two girls work as he continued considering things. In her final moments of being herself, Nyu had told Alma that she was sorry, and to be patient. Alma had taken the news very poorly, but since the shriek, things had been calm. For now, anyway. But Kouta could still feel Alma's eyes glaring into him, and he didn't even have the luxury of glaring back. Still, he figured they would be safe for now. For all of its flaws, it still did seem to genuinely care about Nyu's wishes.
"Did you feed Wanta?"
Kouta, somewhat startled out of his thoughts, turned toward the source of the voice. Mayu was standing there, looking at him with concern. She'd been glad to see Nyu brought back home, but had yet to be briefed on the news about Alma. Kouta almost wanted to tell her nothing, but he knew that she could feel them too: the eyes.
"I'm fine, Mayu," he said, and was surprised that he was able to manage a small grin, "We're just glad Nyu's back."
"Me too!" grinned Mayu, "I think dinner might be nearly ready."
"Yes, we should go get ready, ourselves."
Dinner was a somewhat quiet affair. The four of them-Kouta, Yuka, Mayu, and Nyu-quietly ate their food. After a while, Mayu looked around, unhappy by what she was seeing.
"Is everything okay, guys?"
Kouta and Yuka flinched, as though they'd just been reprimanded by an angry boss. Nyu was poking a dumpling with her chopstick.
"Everything's fine, Mayu," said Kouta, "Eat your dinner."
"Don't do that."
"Do what?" Kouta looked up, and was surprised to see Mayu glaring at him from her spot on the table.
"This! Act like I can't handle the truth! Keeping me in the dark all the time! I deserve to know what you tell me!" she bunched her hands up, and stared down at her meal, "I can feel it, you know. Ever since Nyu came back. It's stronger than ever before, like it's angry. I can feel it even now. It's like eyes are piercing through my very being in all directions. Even Wanta won't go back inside."
Kouta and Yuka exchanged a glance. There really was no hiding any of this. Better to have it out in the open.
"Mayu," explained Kouta, "This thing that followed Nyu...She called it Alma. She says that they're friends."
Mayu blinked, "She told you this herself?"
"Yes. I think there might be something affecting her memory, but before she could go further, she relapsed into her childlike state. She told Alma that she was sorry beforehand, so she might have made herself forget," Kouta paused, and frowned in confusion, "Also, the strange thing is, she seemed sad about something that I don't remember. Whatever that might mean…"
Kouta's mind was focused on Nyu, as well as the equally enigmatic Alma. He didn't notice Yuka's worried frown. Mayu was too caught up by Kouta's story to notice her expression.
"So, what do we do about Alma?"
"Honestly, at this point, I'm debating as to whether or not we should hire an exorcist for her."
"This is serious, you guys," said Yuka.
"What do you suggest we do, then?"
"I...I don't know…...maybe an exorcist?"
For awhile, the three of them could think of doing nothing more than merely sitting there, staring at her food. Then, one by one, they all turned their gaze to look at Nyu, who'd been calmly eating her meal. Nyu looked up at them with confusion, concern, and blissful ignorance. Kouta almost envied her for it.
Chief Kakuzawa sat in his office around the same time that the folks of Maple House were having dinner and police chief Fukuda was being blasted open into a gory paste. Kakuzawa's composure was calm, but his mind was racing. Aristide had informed him that she would be on her way to the facility, a facility that should have been classified, and yet was brought up by her almost casually. Kazukawa had built a life where he was always one step ahead of the competition, so being one-upped by a woman that he'd only just heard of was infuriating. He would have to do a sweep of his staff to look for any potential moles.
He settled back in his chair, looking out the window into the ocean beneath the starry skies. Aristide had said she'd be coming over with an armed escort to discuss strategies with him in regards to pacifying the current threat that was Alma Wade. He'd wanted to know more about this phantom, but the woman had been frustratingly tight-lipped. Now she was on her way, eager to learn about the Diclonius. Still, it didn't seem that she was aware of his ulterior motives of surpassing humanity.
Kakuzawa grinned, his mood slowly improving. He would use Genevieve to deal with Alma, eliminating a disastrous wild factor that threatened to undermine his schemes. Then she, as well as Armacham, would be brought to heal, just like the rest of the world. When life gives you lemons…
Kakuzawa's door knocked, jarring him out of his thoughts. He called out for the person to enter, and saw that it was Deputy Director Shirakawa, who, knowing that her superior didn't like wasting time,
I'm sorry to intrude There's something that you need to know about Kurama.
He listened to Shirakawa's report with slight interest.
"So, Kurama let Siltpelit no. 7 escape, did he?" The news was not of any real inconvenience to him, or of surprise. He'd always known about Kurama's misplaced affections.
"Yes, sir," replied Shirakawa.
"Silpelits are nothing more than worker bees, designed only to kill. Lucy's the queen bee. The fact is, everything is dependent on her. It's not worth my temper to get worked up over one lowly Silpelit."
"But, sir."
Kakuzawa fixed Shirakawa with a sharp glre. "But what, Shirakawa?"
"I heard that...the director lost his daughter. It seems as though the way he treats #7...it's almost as though she's his child."
Kakuzawa chuckled darkly at that, an action which seemed to shock Shirakawa. The older man paid no attention to this, though, and continued speaking. "Yes, his newborn daughter was infected. All it takes is one cut from those vectors to release the virus into the human system, and ensure that any child that a man gives birth to is a Diclonius. This is how they repopulate, after all. Kurama had been infected himself, you see, and when he saw what he'd created, he took it upon himself to...exterminate her."
Kakuzawa reflected on the whole affair, and couldn't help the carnal smile from slowly spreading across his face. "He's a thoroughly foolish man."
"I'm sorry sir, but why do you say that?"
Kakuzawa didn't answer directly, but continued to stare out the window before speaking. "I will delay Kurama's punishment for now. He will pay for the mistake of disobeying me."
Shirakawa was shaken by this declaration, but tried to keep her face neutral. She was uncertain as to whether or not Kakuzawa picked up on this as he studied her reflection on the window.
"Alert me when Ms. Aristide arrives here," stated Kakuzawa, "It's about time we got to the bottom of the nature of Alma Wade."
Nana sat against the side of the rickshaw, her head spinning, her heart thumping. It had been several hours since she'd encountered those two men on the beach, but she still felt startled by the whole ordeal. Her mind felt like it wanted to split apart and scamper off in two different directions. One part felt a sense of shock that she'd been targeted so soon after leaving the facility. It hadn't been too long since she'd gotten out of the pod before an angry man had pointed yet another gun at her, demanding things that she was unaware of. Nana felt certain that she could've handled him, but how safe could she be if more people came after her?
Nana looked down at the bag of yen notes beside her. There was a generous sum of money in the bag, enough to give someone a comfortable amount of room to breathe. However, Nana wasn't aware that this was money, and in a world where financial stability is important, that was a very bad thing. She could already feel her stomach growling with hunger.
After a bit of walking, she eventually found herself in the city. She wandered around, taking in all the dark buildings and bleak streets, and getting in some practice for her new prosthetic limbs. Thankfully, there was nobody around to comment on her horns, an aspect of herself that she'd yet to cover, despite having been threatened by a man hours ago. Eventually, she found herself in front of a late night ice cream and crepe cafe, her stomach rumbling over the various smells. She walked up tentatively, examining the various sugar-filled treats. Behind the stand, the vendor looked at her. He took in her torn dress, her muddied appearance, her odd horns, and slowly began to form his own opinions as to her character.
"What do you want, kid?"
"Could I have one of those?"
The vendor cocked an eyebrow at this. "You got 500 yen?"
Nana frowned. What was yen?
"Didn't think so. Make room for the paying customer."
Almost as if on cue, a pair of teenage girls walked up to the stand, paying no attention whatsoever to the strange girl with horns. Upon seeing the two new customers, the vendor's expression instantly changed, as if his facial features were attached to invisible pulleys. His lips pulled back in a grin, and his eyes widened in friendly cheer.
"Welcome, girls! What can I get you two?"
"One chocolate crepe and one strawberry crepe, please," one of the girls asked eagerly.
"You got it!" The vendor instantly retrieved the pastries without asking if the two girls had the money to pay, or judging them by their appearance. He simply got them their food and automatically took their cash, the pleasant smile never leaving his face. The girls handed over coins in exchange for their food, which the vendor eagerly took from them. Examining her bag, Nana was disappointed to see that she did not have any coins, only paper notes. Her stomach gave a sympathetic rumble as she sighed. The vendor looked at her with a scowl as the other girls left.
"For the last time, kid, if you don't get-"
*thud*
A large hand had come down on the counter, depositing 1000 yen precisely. Both Nana and the vendor jumped, startled by the additional presence who'd snuck up on them in an almost casual manner. Nana turned toward the third party in curiosity, and her jaw nearly hit the floor.
It was the man from the beach. The bearded one who'd saved her from the other man who'd threatened her. For a moment, Nana could do nothing more than gape at him. The vendor looked down at the money, then up at the man. "What'll it be, sir?"
The man gestured to the strawberry crepes, then held up two fingers. The vendor, assuming the man with western features couldn't speak japanese, took the money and gathered the food for him. He handed the steaming food over to him, and was surprised when the man immediately offered one of the delectable crepes over to Nana, shaking her out of her shock.
"F-for me?"
The stranger nodded, and gave her a small smile. Nana thought she might weep in joy. She took the crepe and eagerly bit into it, moaning in joy as the warm flavor overcame her. This was by far the best thing she'd ever tasted. Looking up, she saw that the man was now walking away, casually eating his own crepe.
"W-wait, sir!" Nana instantly took off running after the man, still greedily scarfing her snack. The stranger had gotten a good head start on her, and turned down an alley. Nana eagerly ran after him, having already finished her crepe. "Sir, please!"
The man stopped and turned to her, cocking an expectant eyebrow.
"I-I wanted to say thank you! That food was amazing! It was so warm and tasty! I've never had anything so great!"
The stranger patiently bore her resolution as he calmly consumed his crepe. Then he looked past her, and a scowl began to form on his face. Nana frowned at this.
"Is something the matter, sir?"
"Not at all, my dear." That hadn't been the stranger. It had come from behind her, where the stranger seemed to be glaring. Mayu turned around and let out a yelp in surprise. Standing in the entrance of the narrow alley, (quite narrow, now that Mayu noticed, and dark,) was a man who seemed to radiate a raw red energy. He had western features, much like the stranger who'd bought her the crepe, but unlike the stranger, he did not give off any warmth when he smiled at her. He had the same analyzing gaze that those doctors at the Institute had, a gaze that did not see a person, but a specimen to be dissected and examined. Mayu felt her heart trying to claw its way up her throat. The man with the glowing aura seemed to see the fear on her face, and his smile widened. He looked past her towards the other stranger, who hadn't taken any action, but was tensing up as though he were about to.
"Apologies for intruding, brother, but a mute man might not be the best choice for asking questions," his eyes turned back to Nana, and his eyes seemed to gleam as bright as the energy emanating from him, "My name is Paxton Fettel, and my brother and I would appreciate some answers from you. Do understand, it's all a matter of…family."
Honestly, I hadn't originally planned on adding the brothers, but many of you wanted them to show up, and because this story is set around the plot of Elfen Lied, it's only fair that I make an effort to add more characters from F.E.A.R. I hope you all enjoyed. See you next month!