"This just in folks! Recently, in Italy, a huge bombing happened! One of the largest buildings in Italy, the company that supplies Italy's electricity's head office, has been bombed twice, and currently, the building is collapsing at a fast and alarming rate. Two consecutive explosions and already more than two hundred people have died. From the police, they said another one is currently ticking inside the building, and the living people are starting to evacuate as the building is collapsing! Let's go to—"
The camera, as the new reporter spoke about the deaths and causalities, zoomed in on the people going out of the building, most getting scratched by glass shards continuing to fall out, and some getting stuck the moment they get out by stray blocks and parts of the building. Some are unscathed, but most are already holding injured arms with blood seeping through their sleeves, and some are staggering out as blood dripped down their heads. The medical teams are trying their best to help all, but even they are getting injured from the scraps around them, and getting stuck in the massive crowd, all trying to get out or catch a glimpse of what's happening.
The original reporter came back, and was about to speak once again, when a huge explosion surprised him, making him turn around, and not realizing it was closer than he thought, part of it hit him in the face. He let out a pained shout, fell to the floor, and the camera zoomed in on him. "It hurts! Aaaaagh! Help! Help!"
His face was bleeding profusely, and he raised his arms to cover it. However, his chin can been seen, and parts of the skin was hanging limp from it.
The teenage watcher turned off the television, and sighed. He put a hand over his eyes, rubbing them and turning into a bright orange colour, but one eye was hidden behind a black eye patch with an orange cross over it. His sigh disappeared, and a grin replaced it on his face, looking quite well with his eyes. He mumbled to himself,
"Good job, Regina."
'…you are really going to be king at this rate if I'm not careful.'
Inside a hotel in Italy, a teenager appearing to be thirteen years of age, typed on her keyboard quietly. Her laptop screen showed the video of the Italy's electricity's company building collapsing and the people coming out of it. There were small screens in her screen, each showing a different part from the other. One showed the debris of the building, where a few legs were sticking out with some arms, another the inside of the building, where they were on their own, all trying to escape all at once, but getting more injure, and another, showed the outside of the building on the first floor, where a few got out safely.
Her normally blank face lit up considerably, and she started giggling to herself, a giggle that wasn't fit in such situations. When she heard a scream from one of the screens, where the reporter was screaming in so much agony and pain, her giggles grew into full blast laughter.
She rolled her head back, swiping her purple bangs away from her face, revealing her black skull eye patch and her lone purple eye. She closer her lone eye, laughing loudly and not caring if anyone in the other rooms heard her, and repeatedly pat the table in joy.
It was always so fun to watch them suffer.
To watch the Kings and Queens suffer…
…and let them fall and become Pawns to the Pawns…
Who become the new Kings and Queens.
Very, very fun.
"I hope this satisfies, Re." She chuckled. "My tarts are quite unique, ne?"
'…because I know I'll be king with this, even if just for a while.'
Her finger hovered over the 'enter' button of her keyboard, as if teasing it. After all, to her, everything in the screen was just a plaything. All were playthings. Pawns. Horses. Slaves.
Toys.
How fun!
She pushed it down, and mumbled to herself in a childish, yet amused way,
"Off with their heads!"
An old man tapped his mahogany table anxiously, waiting for his Outside Advisor to come back with his reports. Old, tired yet wise hazel eyes were filled with worry and slight confusion as to why what was happening was happening, and who was causing it.
Hearing the three knocks, he shot up and answered, "Come in."
A blonde man in a professional Armani suit came in, holding a brown folder in his arms. He walked to his boss, and sat down on one of the vintage soft chairs in front of him. "Nono—I mean, Timoteo, we investigated more into this matter of the bombing. What we found out is quite…interesting."
Timoteo's hazel eyes bore into his Outside Advisor's own light hazel eyes. "And…what is this news?" He asked, a bit hesitantly. He was, dare he say, afraid to hear this news. A mafia boss was afraid of simple news, because something inside him, his Intuition, was going haywire. Something was wrong, he knew, terribly wrong.
"The bombs inside the building were all placed in a very intriguing order." The Outside Advisor said, placing the folder on the table and opening it to his boss, letting him read as he described what he gathered. "There were a total of seven bombs inside the building: one in the second floor, another in the seventh floor, sixth and ninth floors and three in the twenty-seventh floor. The explosion started in the twenty-seventh floor, and there was a time gap of ninety-six seconds before the next started ticking for one minute, and soon would explode. The first wasn't as obvious as it was really small, but the second and third one exploded at the same time unlike the others that followed the time gap we presumed...but…"
Timoteo read through the files, and his eyes narrowed. He didn't like where this was going. "Iemitsu." He said in a deeper voice. "What else? Tell me everything."
"Timoteo…" Iemitsu began, a bit worried. "All the bombs were in the shape of an 'X,' when we put them together. Each of them had a note behind them, and it said 'X,' and so we formed the letter, reading the note. It said…
'The Red Queen's Tarts are perfect.
The King shall be pleased.
Those who dare destroy her creation.
Shall never be able to breathe.' "
Silence reigned over the two after that statement. They both knew the insanity hidden behind those words, and it drove them to fear about what it could be for, and for whom. Insanity hidden in a poem reveals more insanity, more darkness that was to be implied. Fear and terror was there, hidden yet obvious.
A piece of tragedy in a bucket of insanity.
"…A…Any clues on who it might be for, or who've done it?" Timoteo said, breaking the silence. His hands were shaking as he used them to support his chin, but the poem sent a nerve-wracking fear into him. It was inevitable, he knew already.
Iemitsu shook his head. "No leads on anything, sir. However, people are suspecting that it was caused by those who once caused havoc in Japan four years ago, around the time my son grew missing and appeared."
"Hm." Timoteo nodded. He remembered those times. Iemitsu's son, who disappeared at birth and came back only four years ago, was hugged to death by his family and fussed over. His eye was a mess, and so was his whole body. However…before and after he came back…havoc in Japan happened.
The Massacres.
The Deaths.
The Burns.
The poems, again.
"Iemitsu." He said, looking at him with seriousness. "Investigate on this. Inform all others about this, and immediately relay information gained to me at once. Is this understood?
Iemitsu gave a polite bow and a salute. "Sir, yes, sir."
Tsuna yawned and rubbed his lone eye, and looked around, willing his eye to go back to its original caramel colour. Trying to look for things to calm him down, he went outside, and jogged. Soft feet treaded lightly on the asphalt-covered street where no cars drove at. It was a new street, and so far, cars were prohibited.
It was more perfect in the brunet's eyes, leaving him all to himself to think for his next plan.
What could he do to beat his Queen?
The Queen has just raised the stakes higher now, making it more fun and challenging. Normal bombings wouldn't work well anymore, as she just set it much, much higher than that. An outbreak of something? No, it wouldn't work that well, it was too messy and hard to fix up. He needed a plan, something to make a big difference, and be clean yet messy at the same time.
A smirk crawled its way up to his lips.
He brought his hand to his patched eye, and chuckled. Tracing over the 'X' on the black patch, he smirked. There was no use keeping calm now, besides, Reborn would be arriving much later. He had more time to plan now.
"I'll bring better tarts that you, Nagi."
'This was going to be very, very, exciting.'
Herro again! Nowww~
EndlessChains: Thank you! I hope it fits your expectations haha. Umm...the Vampire thing could work, maybe. But actually, my idea for this isn't quite clear yet, but most have been planned out. Maybe I can put that in, since it makes a lot of sense (wonder why I didn't realize it lol). Again, thanks for your review (longest ever wao) and hope you enjoyed!
This would be finished probably 10.31 or 1.1 for kicks haha XD Please review thank you!
xx-Published on 10. 29. 12.