Everything I have to say can wait until the end.

Leon had been examining the piece of paper for about the fiftieth time when the chief had shown up at his office door with the pretty brunette woman in tow. In her arms were her things, she was moving in. The chief had introduced her as newly promoted detective Selphie Tilmitt and rattled off a list of recommendations from various institutions as long as his arm. Leon wasn't interested. He kept looking at the piece of paper, moving it around as if different lighting might reveal a hidden secret message. Eventually he said hello. She'd been gushing with enthusiasm, and to be fair to her, he couldn't blame her. Everyone on the force knew his name. Most of the city knew his name. This was a dream position for the young and ambitious. He envied her naivety.

Mickey left with a promise to return, and a reminder about a meeting in ten minutes. Selphie looked at Leon, Leon looked at the paper. Eventually, she coughed. This seemed to work, he looked up.

"Do you know what this is about inspector? It's all very short notice. You see I arrived in town two days ago and I've barely moved into my new apartment when suddenly I get a call from the chief. He congratulates me on my promotion and asks me to come in right away, and now I'm partnered to you and I really have no idea what the hell is going on. Something to do with a "Prophecy". Why am I here, sir?" She added the last almost absent-mindedly.

Leon sighed. He supposed there really hadn't been time to bring her up to speed but he didn't like to have to explain the situation, the past hurt him enough as it was.

"Prophecy is not a what, Prophecy is a who. You're here because my partner and friend of twenty years decided that he couldn't handle Prophecy again, and killed himself." She was silent for a second, absorbing the new information.

"I'm sorry, sir" She said with sincerity. He looked over at her, she was obviously worried.

"Nothing you can do about it, and drop the sir, my name is Leon," He said evenly.

"Duly noted sir, uh Leon, you can call me Selphie," She said struggling, the situation obviously made her uncomfortable. He was interested in how she would handle finding out what they were up against.

"I know, I intend to," She blushed briefly and recovered.

"So who is Prophecy?"

"That can wait until the meeting, I recommend you put your stuff down on that table," He pointed, "until we can clear out Vince's desk."

"Vincent Valentine is dead?" She asked.

Leon nodded slightly. He'd almost forgotten that Vince had a name almost as weighty as his own, another honoured, dead friend.

She nodded and set her cardboard box down. There was plenty of room in the office and she didn't want to go treading on the ghosts of others, especially not such a well-known ghost.

Leon went back to the piece of paper. Selphie found a chair and sat down, watching Leon. He seemed consumed by that sheet. What was on that paper anyway?

A minute passed in silence, Selphie found it distinctly uncomfortable. She kept glancing at the desk against the wall opposite Leon's. She found it hard to believe Vincent Valentine had been it's previous owner. The more the silence continued, the more it pressed on her that the ghosts of history were all around her and she'd have to face them. She didn't like not knowing. Finally it was too much, she had to speak.

"What was he like sir, If you don't mind me asking, sir?"

Leon waited a moment before responding. "Who, Vince?"

"Yes,"

"He was a hero. A goddamn hero. We all were. And Vince broke just like the rest of us. Prophecy... he did that. We had everything but Prophecy still tainted us. We've carried him in our hearts and minds ever since. Well I still do, the others can't. We all found a way to cope. For Vince it was drinking. He'd gotten a lot worse, but I never expected this. Vincent Valentine, was a goddamn honest-to-goodness hero. And he was my best friend. That's the way he should be remembered, but the press won't let that happen. They never do."

Leon smiled sadly. "Vince was superstitious, and while he never talked much you always felt like he knew what you were thinking. He always understood people. I suppose that's why Prophecy hurt him. He was a fighter that had used up all his fight. It's almost laughable, do you want to know what the last thing he said to me was?"

Selphie nodded, she was listening in a transfixed reverie.

"I'll see you tomorrow Leon, the future looks a little brighter than today," Leon chuckled sadly.

Selphie couldn't find the words to describe what Leon had just told her. It filled her with an enormous sadness, like there was a hole in the world that couldn't be filled. She wondered how Leon felt right now, and how he was still here and coping.

They were still sitting like this when the chief popped his in and told them it was time.

The meeting room had seen larger crowds. It was just five in the room. The chief, Leon and Selphie were there, along with two other men. Leon waved to them when he entered and they waved back. One was shorter and pale, with aged white hair and a trickster's smile. The other was taller, black , bald and looked like he never smiled.

The chief spoke, "Alright, time is short. I reckon given last time we've got anywhere from two to six hours before the first girl is reported missing. Firstly though, I'd like to introduce Detective Selphie Tilmitt. She's new, and she'll be keeping Leon company," The small man smiled, and the tall man didn't quite manage it.

"Detective Tilmitt, I'd like to introduce our two most experienced beat cops, Don Duck," He motioned to the small man, "...and Gareth who everyone calls him Goofy. In case you're wondering, it's ironic." The big man did another one of his not-quite-smiles. She could see how the name fit already. Don offered her his hand, she shook it.

"Delighted." He said. He had a nasal voice, and wheezed slightly. But she looked at his eyes, clever and calculating, and knew that despite his comical appearance, he was every bit as dangerous as Goofy looked.

"Alright," Mickey stood up in front of a plain white screen. "I've been informed by archives that they can't find anything from twenty years back. Nothing digital, nothing shelved. Nothing. The whole lot seems to have vanished." Selphie looked to Leon for how bad this was. Leon was frowning.

"How on earth did all that paperwork just vanish chief?" Leon voiced what the majority of them were thinking.

"That's just it, we don't know. Archives can't find the damn case anywhere in the system. They can't even find references to it. They can't even find the damn hole it left when it vanished. It's like it never happened. But I didn't call you hear to crap all over the archiving department. I already did that."

"Three of you are here, because you're the only people we have left from last time, Detective Tilmitt is hear because she is uniquely qualified, we are entering a case where we have nothing except what we could find in the civilian sector, one qualified officer, the memories of three old men, and Leon. Any questions?" The staement was almost funny but nobody laughed. Nobody even smiled. No one else moved. Eventually Selphie raised her hand. The chief pointed to her, "Yes?"

"Sir, who is Prophecy?" She watched a shadow cross the faces of the other four men in the room.

"Ah, I was just getting to that. Prophecy is the meanest bastard whoever roamed the streets of this city. He is probably single-handedly responsible for more human suffering than most other criminal Trinity City has ever known."

Selphie digested this.

"Prophecy was a serial-abductor. He targeted young women, seemingly at random. They'd disappear without a trace. No-one knew anything, no-one talked. The only way we knew it was him was that he'd leave his own peculiar form of calling card." The chief pressed a button on a remote Selphie hadn't noticed he was holding. The screen flashed to life. On it she could see six rectangles elaborately decorated in pencil. They looked like...

"Tarot cards sir?"

"Absolutely Tilmitt, every time he struck he'd leave the family a sheet exactly like this. Six cards. At first we thought he was yanking our chain. But then as the days went by, and the numbers piled higher we examined them. Every one of those cards means something to someone. So we got a fortune teller to have a look at them. Turns out he'd been leaving us messages. He taunted us. Sent us clues to his whereabouts. Gave us advice on what we should be eating. But we couldn't seem to find him. He was always one step ahead. And he was mean about it too. He left traps, inspired street violence. Cops started dying. And the number of missing girls rose, and rose and rose. The body count went with it. The people panicked. Stayed indoors, shut their stores. And still they were not safe. So the mayor got together with some criminal profilers who couldn't figure him out either. And they suggested something radical. A smaller task force comprised of younger officers, from varying offices and specialities. They claimed it would help." Mickey paused for dramatic effect. "It was the only damn thing we ever did right in that investigation. Thus, Divination came to be. A group of thirteen fated young souls working to stop the greatest criminal threat to our city that ever was." The chief clicked a button on the remote. A picture of thirteen young men and women came into view. Twelve of the smiling young officers had red crosses through their torsos. The remaining one was...

"Leon?" Selphie asked. Leon nodded.

"Tell me detective Tilmitt, had you heard Leon's name before today?"

"Yes, well who hasn't?"

"And had you heard of Vincent Valnetine?" What was the chief getting at?

"Again sir who hasn't?"

"Ah, now tell me detective, why are they so well known?"

"Uh... I don't really know, they cracked a big case?" The dots suddenly joined in Selphie's head. "Wait, that was this case?"

"Indeed it was, I don't blame you for not remembering the case. Nobody wants to remember this. That's why it faded from public memory so damn fast. Despite the memorial service every year. The heroes remain and the villain fades into obscurity."

"Sir if you don't mind me asking, Serial killers and abductors are remembered in other places. Why not here?"

"As we found out, he was worse than just a serial killer. Divination eventually tracked him down. They followed a license plate through four car yards, across three townships and to a warehouse outside of city limits if memory serves" Leon nodded his confirmation. "We didn't go in light. We brought a whole lot of blue shirts. Everyone that was left. Most of them didn't go in though. Just the thirteen from Divination. We figured it would be better if we had a large perimeter and a small strike force, we couldn't let him get away. We were such fools. I'll let the others tell it from here,"

Selphie looked at the other three, it was Don who took over.

"We were there that day, we watched as those kids vanished inside." He said in his strange, squeaky voice, "We waited and we waited. Then suddenly, WHOOSH! The place caught fire. Next thing we know is we're waiting again, we couldn't go in to get them but we wondered why the hell they weren't coming out. Then suddenly just as the fireboys arrive, we see 'em, just a few of them. And they're carrying some folks in their arms. And then as they get out the whole damn building comes down. It was the worst damn thing I ever saw." Wordlessly, Mickey hit a button on his remote. The screen showed a newspaper cutting. The headline read "Deadly Inferno". There was a picture beneath it. It showed a large warehouse on fire, at it's foot several figures were running from a dust cloud. Without cue Leon took over.

"It was worse than we could have imagined. We got inside, and we found him. Or so we thought. I remember him, and I remember thinking it couldn't be right. He was standing in a pool of gasoline with a remote control in his hands. We told him to drop it, he said he wouldn't. He told us it was a dead-man's switch that would set the place on fire. We backed up a bit He then proceeded to proclaim that he was the mighty prophecy and that he foretold a fiery doom for us all. And then I'll never forget what happened. It's as if he changed completely for a second. A different person stepped forward. This is what he said, "The girls are still alive, they're in the basement, I'm sorry, I have to burn for what I've done" And then he hit the switch. So when by all rights we should have been running away, we agreed to stay and try and save them. It took us too much time to locate the basement. There was this incredible heat. And the roaring, I'll never forget the noise, it was like a plane taking off. When we got down there, most of them were dead. We pulled a grand total of four out of that basement. The rest were cooked alive. Under half of us carried them out, the rest stayed to try and capture him. We'd just gotten outside when the roof came down. Nine of us made it out of that hell hole alive. And then everything got worse all round. Afterwards was when we did most of the finding out. Afterwards was hell. Of the girls we got out of there, three of them refused to talk. They wanted to see him. The only one in any condition to tell us, told us why. He wasn't just an abductor. He was a slave maker. He took those girls and through beatings, and intimidation and methods I don't want to remember he turned them into sex slaves. Willing ones. No matter who or what they were before he took them, he got hold of them and beat them, raped them, them, taunted them and broke them until they... changed."

"He'd based his methods on modern cults and techniques last used in the Korean war. He destroyed their sense of identity, and rebuilt it to his own liking. At least that's what the psychologists told us afterwards. And the worst of the lot was the girl who talked, told us that the man who'd set the warehouse on fire wasn't Prophecy. He was just another brainwashed victim, a lackey with one purpose. Just some poor homeless man who never had a chance. Twenty nine young women and eight officers of the law died in that fire. A lot of my close friends snuffed out by that madman in an instant. Nobody remembers because they don't want to think about twenty nine young women with bright futures dying, probably willingly for a man we never caught. He never struck again though. We still don't know who he was either. That one girl said he always wore a mask. We eventually got the other three girls back into functioning order and sent them back to their families. The one who remembered it all vanished before we even got her name."

Selphie realised he'd stopped talking long after he'd actually stopped. She was fascinated and horrified. How could anyone do that? What makes a normal person lose their sense of identity? She looked at Leon and saw his eyes misted over. This was what weighed on him. Or some of it. Something didn't add up.

"Leon, you said five of you made it out of the warehouse, You were one, Vincent was two. Who were the others, and where are those women?"

"That is a series of sad stories. I'll tell you some other time. As for the women finding them is high on our list of priorities. Unfortunately, along with our archives we lost their details. We'll have figure it out. Thankfully the newspapers were rife with the pictures of the missing at the time. The three survivors we still had were put into witness protection but I get the impression we've lost those records too. I had to help debrief them, so I'll remember where and who they are if I can get a picture."

"So what now?" Selphie asked. She wasn't sure she wanted this case but she knew she had to do her bit.

"Now, you have to learn how to read those cards"

Sora was world-weary and sore when he finally stumbled back to his apartment. It was almost too much to bear. He'd tried every relative, every friend. Her workplace, the night-school and her favourite ice-cream parlour. He tried everything he could think of and got nothing back. The hardest call he'd had to make was the one to Terra. Kairi was his only remaining blood family member, sort-of. Although Terra now had a family of his own, Sora could hear he was really worried. And for a moment they had both just stood there in silent empathy of each other. A silent prayer for the safe return of Kairi. Then Sora had made his excuses and gone out looking again. He only returned now because he was so tired it was getting dangerous to drive. It had been thirty-six hours since he'd been home. He wouldn't get any sleep just yet either. He never made it past the front door. The same front door he'd left all that time ago. Without locking. The door hung open. On the inside a knife was stuck in the door. It was holding up a piece of paper, on the paper were six designs Sora only knew vaguely as Tarot cards.

Sora's phone was in his hands before he knew what he was doing. Some instinct was screaming at him. It was time to call the cops.

Yeah, this part two of my incredibly long chapter. I think the two parts work better split up.

Again, shout out to Paradise Avenger.

Read, Review and most importantly: Enjoy!

Yours Sincerely

Everhopeful83