The Godfather Tale; Part 1
February. A month of winter's end and a time to bring out spring love through Valentine's Day. YUCK! As if shit in life wasn't any more bearable than those candied hearts and people preaching about love. Makes me want to puke! Especially since I don't want to be reminded of my heartbreak, I'll just have to grit my fangs and bear it until that damn day comes and goes. Yet, it was still a week away, I had a feeling something big was gonna happen in old New York. Besides the pink and red ribbons, to fake flowers, and special drinks that bars were bringing out, the BOSS requested me to sing some Madonna for a Weekend Romance Night.
God! If I wasn't desperate for money I'd be burning every last disk of Madonna's into the fire, along with every pink and red thing that guy hung up! Don't get me wrong though; I like some of Madonna's work, I just don't like singing to a bunch of drunken couples before a Holiday that I would rather avoid in my cheap hotel room!
I was currently walking down West Broadway. The traffic was unusually light and almost all the buildings were lined up side by side you could have tossed a bar of soap to the person below your own window! From florists to coffee shops and a few privet business owners, I tried to concentrate on walking than the heartbeats that surrounded me.
That is, until I smelled smoke. And not smoke from a chimney either, but the kind of smoke that was heavy and stank of all sorts of burning things like – a house or a building! Quickly, I ran to where the source of the smoke was and saw a five story building with a lower window puffing out black smoke. Quickly spotting the sign, my insides filled with dread when it said Nancy's Orphanage.
Kids! There were kids in that building! I saw a few people from across the street, calling on their phones for some help, I hope. But I wasn't going to wait for the fire department to move its ass. Making up my mind I headed for the door, but as luck would have it, it was locked.
"Hey! Anybody in there!?" I hollered and immediately heard a dozen of little hammers pounding at the door.
"Help us! Please!" A little girl hollered.
"Get us out of here!" A boy's voice followed.
"Mom is hurt! Help us!" An even younger boy's voice came next.
"I'm coming! Just back away from the door!" I said and when I heard their retreating footsteps stop at a safe distance, I gathered my strength and kicked the door in. The wood cracked as the door's hinges came apart from my power. Smoke met my eyes and nose as I rushed inside, only to be met (and tackled) by the small residence of the orphanage. Crying and scared, they all swarmed around me as I lead them out the door, making sure the younger ones didn't fall down the stone steps. They all seemed to be unharmed but I made sure to check each child twice over.
"You okay?" I asked a boy and wiped away a few tears from his face, he nodded as I had them stand away from the building, in case it would erupt in fire. "Mom!" He said and pointed at the door to the orphanage. "Our Mom is still in there!"
"Mom?!" I quirked a brow as each kid looked from me to the building. Oh, I get it now! The person that runs this place must be this "Mom" their referring to. "Okay! I'll go and find her! Is there anyone else in the building I should know about?" I asked the eldest looking child, which to me looked about ten or eleven. He shook his head and stared down at his shoes. "Stay here! All of you just stay here where it's safe, okay?" I said and they nodded. I ignored the sirens of the fire trucks that finally came and dove back into the smoking building.
Concentrating on holding my breath, I found a fire extinguisher and ripped it off the wall. Why wasn't this used earlier? Well, the kids were perhaps too young to even lift this thing! Anyway, I make my way to kitchen; the fire was crackling and spitting in my ears before I even opened the door. It figures that a kitchen incident would do this! The orange flames danced about the place and were about to torch the ceiling, but I aimed, pulled the safety ring off, and pressed the handle. White foam sprayed everywhere as I directed the extinguisher from left to right. Once the fire was put out, I eyed the place for any more excuses the fire would spread. When I heard and found none I began to analyze the situation. How was a fire started? The kids? Possible but shouldn't they have more adult supervision here? Now where is this Mom so I can bitch-slap her for sharking her duties!
Setting down the extinguisher, I walked up the stairs to hunt down this person. Boy she's gonna regret pissing me off! How can someone run an orphanage like her and think to leave the door locked with a room full of kids?! Come to think of it… Why was the door locked? Even the windows were big enough for them to climb out from, where they locked too? When I approached one I could see that there was a child safe lock on it. Well that answers that question. But still, there should have been a better escape plan for these kids should anything bad happen!
My nose caught hold of something and I felt my stomach ache. Blood. Thought the air in the place was still thick, I can detect a lot of blood. It was close to me, in a room down this hallway. Biting my lip I approached the door and ripped it open only to wish I hadn't.
In the room was a queen sized bed with four wooden posts with a classy lamp and dresser to the right. But in the center of that bed was a woman; whose yellow dress was stained with her thick red blood. Her brown hair displayed all over the pillow as her arms and legs were spread open. Her light blue eyes were lifeless and as I came closer I can see that there were several deep cuts into her stomach. This must have been Mom. I thought and noticed the open window. Taking a peek outside I spotted the metal stairs of a fire exit. Whoever killed her escaped this way. What a mess I put myself in.
Listening closely, I detected no further heartbeat from above me, which mean the murderer is long gone by now. But that fire was done not too long ago, so he must have set it up to make it that way, but how? I returned to the kitchen only to be met with two of the firefighters.
"You okay, ma'am?" One of them removed his helmet and went to grab my arm.
"I'm fine!" I growled and yanked it away from his reach. Taking the hint, he stepped out of my line of view as I pushed back the second to examine the stove.
"The fire was caused by towels being left on the stove while it was turned on high," One of the firemen said to me, but I ignored him as I opened the stove, slowly though. I spotted a bottle inside with a trail of dry towel leading too it. I take out the bottle and frowned when I saw what it was.
"Is that gasoline?!" One of the firemen said as I popped open the bottle, revealing all in the room with the noxious smell of gas.
"Yep," I wrinkled my nose and put the top back on and handed the bottle to the closest fireman. "You may want to call the cops too. This building's attendant is dead."
The two men looked from me then to each other before one bent his head to a hand-held radio and started calling in for the police while the other gave me an uneasy glance. "Hey! I remember you now!" He said as his eyes lit with recognition. "You're the super girl from Time Square with that truck incident!"
"Ha," I breathed with a smirk, "Super girl. I just did what I could to save those people. By the way; these kids were left here to die along with their dead Mom. And I'm gonna find out why."
"Now wait just a minute!" The fireman went to grab my arm again, but this time I snatched his wrist before he could blink, when I gave a waning squeeze, even from under those thick clothes, he cringed.
"Don't. Touch. Me," I breathed a growl as the other fireman could do nothing but watch.
"Now take it easy," The man said as his partner was still trembling in my grasp. "We just want you to report this to the police. They can help out with this kind of trouble."
"I doubt it," I growled and nearly slapped myself for it. It sounds like I'm agreeing with that tall oaf of a Detective from the SVU Department. But he was right, sad to say. My inhuman self can sniff out and kill this ass before he could get away with blowing up another building filled with innocent children. And yet there was that other question, when it comes to a murder; what was the killer doing here in the first place?
"Hey – miss? You're cutting off my circulation!" The fireman I was still holding began to fidget and tried to pry my fingers loose, without success.
"Hu? Sorry," I said and released him, then I paced the half chard kitchen as the two fireman backed away.
"What do we do now?" The men started to bicker amongst each other as I rubbed my chin with one hand, trying to ask myself all the right questions and then how to answer them. Murder mysteries always interested me, but I never thought I'd be caught up in one. Well, guess it would happen sooner or later.
"Well, the police are here," One of the men told me and I nodded, indicating that I had heard. Now I wonder how the kids are faring. Ah! The kids! If anyone knew anything that was happening under this roof it was the kids!
"Excuse me!" I said and shoved them out of my way without a second thought.
"Damn! She's a strong one!" One fireman rubbed his arm and they both followed me, their heavy suits creaking as they went to join me outside.
"Well, well, if it isn't Dampire C," The voice of Detective Tutuola greeted me. I looked up to find him and his partner; Detective Munch walking up towards me. "What trouble do you blow my way this time?"
"Hm," I smirked then pointed to the two firemen that were still standing behind me, "You'll get most of the info from them. I got something to check out."
"What?" The detective furrowed his brows in confusion as I headed for the small band of children. They were currently being checked and treated by a few medics, but they looked to be no worse for the wear.
"Hey there," I approached a small group of eight to ten year olds. "How are you guys?"
"Where's Mom?" A dark haired, brown eyed boy asked me; from his voice I can tell it was one of them from the door.
"I – I'm sorry guys," I said, drawing all their young eyes up at me, "Your Mom's gone. I – couldn't save her."
"What happened to her?" A little girl asked and I thought a few would start bawling, but they just started up at me with more questions in their eyes.
"It was the Dirty Man!" A blond boy perked up, while holding a classic 'Peanuts' blanket close to his small body.
"Dirty man?" I approached him and then he looked down at his feel, like he had been caught with something naughty. This could be important though. "Can you tell me? Please?" When it comes to children, you sometimes have to be a little kiss-up.
"Well, he always comes to see Mom," He said his eyes looking fearful.
"I see," I said, but sounding interested for both our sakes. Any wrong word or tone of voice can permanently shut out a shy kid's mouth. Now I did say shy! We all know how snotty kids act! Thank God I wasn't dealing with any of those. After all, I can sympathize with these kids. I have no parents either. "Please. Tell me more." I said and sat down with my legs crossed, allowing the orphans to flock around me.
"You have pretty eyes!" Another little girl came close and I smiled gently at her before readdressing the boy's attention to me.
"Well," The boy began, sounding hesitant nonetheless, "He's tall, with lots of dirt on his pants!"
"He wears a yellow hat too!" Another boy dropped in. "It's hard! Like a rock!"
"A hard yellow hat, hu?" I pondered with one finger on my chin, trying to entertain the young ones, despite what they almost went through. Sounds like a construction worker; but there are other companies that use the yellow hard caps. I'll have to be sure that what their telling me is true.
"Did he happen to carry anything else on him?" I asked as some of the kids poked at my coat and my chain belt.
"Ya!" A dark skinned boy jumped in, "He had these – big… um… big, big earrings on him!"
"Earrings?" I smirked, trying to get a metal image of this guy from them, but it was blurry, "Now, think hard," I said, trying to aid in my search, "What did he look like. Did he have a beard? A mustache? Any hair on his head?"
The kid's faces started to scrunch and squeeze in thought as I let my own mind scan each of theirs. It was like flipping tarot cards to try and get the correct picture to match, but so far, six out of the bunch seemed to be thinking of the same guy.
"The guy had a bald face," A young boy said; indicating that the man had no facial hair. "Short hair on his head!"
"He was tall too!" A girl said as she held her rag doll close to her.
Hearing two familiar heartbeats coming towards me I stood up and rubbed each of them on the head. "Don't worry. I'll find this 'dirty man' before he can escape."
"What is this Dirty Man that you're thinking on going after?" Tutuola said as he and Detective Munch sized me up. Putting my hands in my coat pockets, I calmly returned the stare.
"I'm sure that you know a woman was killed in that room; and no, it wasn't me this time," I said when I saw Munch remove his sunglasses as his face grew hard.
"Ya I know, but don't get too cozy thinking that you just stumbled upon a murder rather than creating one this time," Tutuola said rather smugly.
"Nor did you set the fire by leaving a bottle of gasoline in the kitchen's oven?" Munch said as he held the bagged up evidence to my face. Lifting my upper lip in irritation I stepped closer to them.
"No," I said and glared while my eyes were turning red, "Nor do I leave a building full of orphans to die because of whatever that woman was doing! Now if you excuse me, you're wasting my time to find this bastard."
"Your gonna bring him in alive this time?" Detective John asked rather coolly.
"Maybe," I said as I turned my back on them, preparing to leave, "If he gives me a reason to kill him, then I just might! But – I'll do my best to spare him. Now why don't you guys go back to your desk jobs and look up how and why these two people would meet in an orphanage. Since that's all you guys are good for."
"Hey, now that's uncalled for and unfair," Detective Odafin said and crossed his fairly muscled arms over his chest. "We've been doing this long before your blood-sucking fangs showed up in this city."
"Fascinating. And yet I'm already a few steps ahead of you. See ya!" I smirked and walked towards the alleyway, almost surprised that they didn't follow me.
"Shit, man," Munch breathed as the Gothic-like woman left the area. "One of these days I'm gonna enjoy seeing her in chains."
"That wouldn't be blessed chains now, would it?" Tutuola asked and smirked at the dirty look he got in return. "You know she'd flatten us both if we even thought about arresting her."
"You believe in mind readers now?" His partner gave him a tiring look. After what Olivia and Elliot told them about their meeting with C, it was a little easier to understand the woman's predicament. "I mean, I can understand her attitude now, but really? Dose she really have to pull out the 'telepathic' card as an excuse to go out and kill any perp she deems unworthy to live?"
"Well, if she gave us a chance then she wouldn't have to kill," He said as they walked back to the car, "Besides; didn't you look into her eyes?"
"You mean besides the blood red?" Munch commented as he sat in the side seat.
"No, man," Tutuola sighed as he started the engine after strapping, "She's suffering."
The drive back to HQ could be described as less than enjoyable; despite the fact that now they have a murder scene to document, and it's come to their attention that Dampire C has chosen to get involved in this case. Tutuola may not like it as much as his partner, but he knew C would be the quickest on her feet to catch the perp. Yet, as they drove, Tutuola spotted an odd car out of their usual unit.
"Oh, hold up, yo," He spotted the smooth, brown Chevrolet-Camaro parked just beside Elliot's Honda Acord. "I know that car!"
"Hell ya, you do!" Munch smirked as he too felt recognition on the old car. "That old muscle belongs to Dean McCoy!"
"God! Now what is old Hot-Head doing here? His badge is waaaay beyond his jurisdiction," He smiled anyway as they parked. They both unbuckled from their seats and quickly went to the door; eager to meet an old friend.
As they entered into the main office they spotted the officer sitting next to Elliot and their Chief; obviously absorbed in conversation. He was fairly tall, lost most of his hair yet his white skin had hardly aged. His blue eyes looked like they had seen a lot of action, yet where still as sharp as ever.
"Hey! Odafin! John! Damn, you guys look old!" His smooth voice went up a notch at seeing them, as his face made a big smile, showing his dimples.
"You should talk, you old goat!" Tutuola smirked and they exchanged handshakes and hi-fives.
"Ya, but I'm still butt'n heads!" He said, cracking a grin. "So I heard you two had a nasty fire west from here. Catch the guy who done it yet?"
"Not yet, but you know me," Tutuola said then turned to his chief and boss, "Oh ya, Sarge. Mind if I talk to you about the case?"
"Alright," He said, smoothing the front of his jacket and they walked out of earshot, "What's wrong?"
"Dampire C," Tutuola said and he could see the barely controlled strain on his face. "She was on the scene first. She saved the kids, stopped the fire and found the body of the woman that owned the orphanage."
"Damn it," He breathed and smoothed his bald head with his hand. "She didn't kill the woman, did she?"
"No. The firemen said that she told them she was just passing by when she saw the smoke," He said, they both turned to find Dean laughing with the others. "From the evidence we found; the woman was stabbed several times in the stomach and a bottle of gasoline was set up in the oven. Whoever did it wanted to burn down the building along with the body, and the kids stuck inside."
"Alright," Don sighed, "Find out what you can. Comb up and down the street if you have to. Just make sure that damn woman doesn't find him first! Allie or not, she's not getting away with killing anymore suspects!"
"Now that's not nice; talking about your wife like that," Dean lazily stepped in between the two, "Course if it isn't your wife, then I can probably help."
"Not this time, Dean," The Captain said coolly, "As much as I love your work; you're a little off of your usual turf."
"Didn't know you could still rhyme, Don," Dean said and half the room cracked a grin with him.
"Listen, smart guy," Cragen said, putting his serious face on, "We love what you did in the past; but you're just a temporary transfer from Maine. You're in my neighborhood for a visit. Remember? New York has a little more than what you remember."
"Ya, I remember the Big Apple," Dean said, smile fading too, "F. Y. I. I used to live here too. I know how it's supposed to be done. And – don't worry. I won't cause any more traffic problems during my weekly stay."
"Don't you mean 'havoc?'?" Elliot put in, earning a smile from the man. "Come on. I heard almost all your adventures."
"Let me know when you've heard it all," Dean snickered. Although, it had been a good, long, few decades, Officer Dean McCoy had been a part of the Law Enforcement for over thirty years. His retirement was soon to come, but he wanted to come back to New York City before the sand ran out. Partly to visit, but mostly for some undercover work. He was concerned about a missing person that was considered close to him. Correction; she was very close to him, or at least he still hoped so. When he discovered she was no longer where he had last seen her, he had to dig deeper, and New York was his last hope.
"Why did you come back, McCoy?" Tutuola asked, catching on to the old officer. "You're not one to even consider a vacation, man."
"Well," He said, acting almost like he had been caught, "I'm not sure myself just yet. But when I do, I'll let you all know."
"Figures," Munch said as he went to grab himself a cup of coffee, "Time may have aged us, but hasn't done much damage to your usual ego, has it?"
"Why should it start now?" Dean stretched as he spotted Olivia in the corner, "What's she up to?"
"Just a case from the Long Island murders," Elliot said, shuffling some paperwork in a drawer.
"I read about that in the paper," Dean pondered as he recalled the article, "Five guys, was it? Torn apart like some wild dog had a taste for human flesh or something."
"Something like that," Tutuola said, but Dean wasn't buying it. He can see it, from their faces to their eyes; they were hiding something, and judging from the tone he had just received; they didn't want to discuss it openly either.
"Well, mind if I come with ya?" Dean asked the Detectives calmly. When they gave him a tense expression of doubt, he immediately countered, "Come on, man. I may look a little out of shape, but I still got what it takes. Besides, I don't want to go back to that cheap hotel room microwaving cold pizza."
"If I were you; I'd stick with the cold pizza," Munch said but he motioned the guy to follow them outside.
"Ya right. As much as I love the pizza here, it doesn't love me," He said and as soon as they were outside, Dean went to his brown Camaro. "Care to join me, guys?"
"I thought you would have that thing scraped by now," Munch commented on the peeling paint and somewhat dent in the bumper. "How many miles dose she got left?"
"As much as she can dish out! Now hop in boys and point the way!" Dean encouraged, leaving no room for arguments.
"It's been a long time since I cruised around in this," Tutuola said as he stroke the slightly worn leather of the seat.
"I bet you don't catch criminals like you used to either, eh?" Dean smirked as both Detectives gave a look.
"It's called a rule book, man," Tutuola spat coolly, "Or don't you use those in Maine either?"
"Too much of a dead weight to me. Now, where is this 'crime' that took place," Dean shoved his sunglasses on and started down the road. After a few traffic lights and trying to avoid a semi, they finally made it at the orphanage. The place was already quarantined for police use. Dean was currently in the bedroom where the owner had been stabbed to death. Her body had already been sent to the city morgue.
"We got a name of the victim?" Dean asked as the Detectives stood beside him.
"He thinks I was born yesterday," Tutuola huffed as Munch smirked.
"Sorry, I forgot your present," Dean said as he removed his sunglasses to get a better look at the photograph he was given.
"Victim's name was Nancy Bella. The kids were forced to call her 'Mom,' considering she owns the building they stay under." Munch said as the place was still being dusted for prints and such, "Time of death was at least thirteen hours ago. The perp must have left just after he set up the stove to blow with gasoline."
"Which was foiled by our mysterious savior?" Dean handed the photo back and decided to go to the kitchen. "I guess some people don't wait for the Fire Department anymore."
"Guess not," Detective Tutuola scoffed as he leaned next to the door's frame while Munch aimlessly eyed the black and burnt area of the stove.
"Alright you two, it's time to spill the beans," Dean said not falling for their innocent acting. "I've known you long enough to learn when you're hiding something from me. Sooo – What's going on?"
"Nothing you would want to hear about," Munch said as he traces the edge of the counter with his fingers, then wiping them in a handkerchief.
"Much less believe in either," Tutuola breathed in, hoping it would prevent a headache.
"Really? After all the bull shit we've been through, in six states, of over four decades in our lifetimes; you got something that would actually top all that?" Dean spoke, half in a daze and half eagerly interested. "Please! Tell me! I'm drowning in my own saliva here!"
"It's more like a someone," Munch said then placed his hands in his pockets.
"Oh? And who is this someone that has you all on your toes and your tongues in twisters," Dean spoke in a casual Smart-Alek tone.
"Only met her a few times," Tutuola finally said as he gestured him to follow outside, "She's the one who stopped the fire and saved these kids. Now she's probably two times ahead of our own steps in catching the one responsible."
"Is she an officer?" Dean asked, intrigued that a woman had managed to take the lead in a case that neither of his friends could keep up in.
"Not quite," Munch said as he tried to balance his weight on his heels, "She's – quite the mystery. Likes to help people who are in trouble –."
"But hates to let the criminals live," Tutuola finished rather sternly.
"I might just like her," Dean smirked at them.
"You might – then again, you might not," Munch said rather dully, "She's got a temper that would make you look like a harmless pug."
"And gots the guts like Wonder Woman," Tutuola finished with a dry edge of irritation. "Black hair, white skin, and has one Hell of a punch."
"Dose she carry any other characteristics besides that?" Dean asked as they walked some ways down the sidewalk, trying to seem inconspicuous.
"Wears lots of black clothes," Munch put in then stopped when Dean stopped to observe down an alleyway. "I thought you were retiring in a few months. Getting bored already?"
"Maybe," Dean said, his focus was more on the case now. If this mystery woman was already ahead of the SVU Department, then he had little time to spare. Usually, it was he that would always be ahead of the Unit, but now; it seemed like there was new competition. He always did like a challenge though. Challenges were always hard to pass up. "Or maybe I just wanna keep on working. Mind if I go this way and you guys take that way?" Dean pointed to the opposite end of the street that he would take.
"Why do I have a feeling that you're gonna get us all into trouble again?" Tutuola groaned with annoyance.
"Only once more, right?" Dean smirked.
"Just say it's for old times' sake and you've flattered me to that point," Munch said smoothly as they walked away while the officer from Maine took the other direction. His first destination was where the kids were now being watched over. He had questions to be answered, so who better to ask than the all-day residence of the former orphanage.
They had been placed in a temporary home until a 'proper' orphanage could be used for their home. He never did like kids to be left on their own. He would know too. He raised two of them. Well, three actually, but his first wasn't really his. She belonged to his best friend and wife, before they died. But, after all this time, he still was like a second father to her. He wanted to know if that relationship still existed within her. That is, until he found out she was missing from the collage she was going at. That's right. It was five months ago when he saw her last at a collage. She looked great. Dressed like a punk, but still, he could tell she had grown responsible for herself. And that was okay. But – two months ago, when he went to check on her again, she was gone. He had asked around about her, but no one knew what happened to her. Hell, no one could even remember her name! This infuriated him, but made him wonder. Did she run? If so, why? Why not come to him like he wanted her to if she was in trouble? Something had happen to her, and he was hopping that he would find the answers in the city she was born in. But that would have to wait now until after this case.
Come on! Focus, Dean! You're not gonna let some young girl get the best out of old McCoy! His thoughts trained back on the current case as he walked down the street towards Nolita. It was a noisy block, and with a great deal of construction being done on many of the old buildings. Officer Dean guessed this would be the best place to look considering what he got from the orphans. Apparently this 'Dirty Man' went by his namesake in and outside the construction site. His only hope now was luck. There was competition to take down now, and his ego (as it were) was on the line.
From saws to air drills and hammers, Dean tried his best to block out the noise as he turned a corner, and that's when the thrill rushed through his veins. Old as he was now, he can still recall a 'chill of the moment' when things were gonna turn bad. It did not disappoint him, for after a few seconds of silence, an air-gun went off the same time as a normal gun did. Pulling out his sidearm, Dean raced ahead for the sound of the gun. Another shot went off and he raced down the street, the defining sound becoming more distinct from the other sounds. Before he could turn another corner though, he was pushed aside by a big guy, in a yellow helmet, wearing those orange vests, and a dirty brown shirt with blue jeans.
"Hey!" Dean shouted angrily as he brushed the dirt from his pants, but as he stood, a flash of a feminine, black, figure race pass him and after the guy that shoved him into the ground. "What the Hell?" Dean muttered as he recalled the guy was running like the Devil was after him. The figure he saw was so fast that he could only catch a glimpse. Definitely a woman, but for some reason she ran like she was inhuman! Making sure his gun was alright and off its safety clip, Dean raced after the suspicious pair.
I found him. It was easy. He left his knife in the trash right next to the building he had tried to burn. His filthy scent was all over it, despite the blood of the dead woman. Apparently, those two had a relationship that this Nancy refused to let go. So the guy found the only solution; kill her. But what really irked me was how he tried to set the place aflame with orphan kids still locked inside! Sick bastard! If it wasn't for that damn request about not killing the criminals of this city, I would have in an instant! But, I was aiming to wound him now, which was more challenging for me. Well, gotta break in my gun experience at some point!
As soon as I entered the construction site though, of a former business that was being rebuilt bigger, I could hear his heart rate pick up. His thoughts went fearful as I started to ask each of the men if they knew of Nancy. When they all pointed a finger at him though; the Dirty Man, ran like a coward. From the dirt of the site, and the sweat from his body, I'm just glad my stomach stayed in tacked as I pursued after the filthy rat.
"Run all you like!" I hollered at him. Even though he was a bit soggy around the middle, he was keeping a good pace. Probably motivated by me. Te He. "I can do this all day!" Truth be told, I can catch up to him any time I want. But, ever since I came up with a compromise to my other half, I've felt more – I don't know – primal? I wanted to hunt! To chase my pray till he was warn to the bone! Then I would look him in the eye and make him piss his pants in fear of me! It sent tingles of anticipation to my nerves. I was excited for this hunt! I wanted it to be fun!
"Leave me alone!" He screamed and tried to topple a few iron barrels at me. You know? The kind homeless would use to start a fire and keep warm over. I just dodged and leaped over those with ease. The obstacle cores was only fueling my need to continue the chase. When I got tired of his tricks, I jumped up, high, and landed on some unfinished wooden beams to a roof. I easily race ahead; from above his head, and then I leaped down kicking him in the back so that he would skid and ram into a brick wall, his face and front covered with thick mud.
"Looks like you lose this round," I smirked as he cringed before me. Yes! Fear me! You pig! My thoughts raced with my adrenalin as I pulled out my gun and pointed it at him. I want to see blood! Want to see if he; a heartless man that almost took the lives of over twenty orphans, can really bleed! "You swine! How can someone like you live without the regret of taking the lives of innocent children! Answer me!"
"I – I – didn't – know the – door was – locked!" The man gasped desperately for air, his dark eyes growing wide with fear at the barrel of my gun.
"Bull shit you didn't!" I growled, my eyes were hidden behind my sunglasses but I can feel them burn. "You just didn't want any witnesses to your meetings with Nancy, let alone with what you've done to her!"
"P-P-Please! I – I'll go to jail! I'll – I'll pay for my crimes! I – I swear it!" He panted as his hands were raised high to the sky, yet he was still lying on his side.
"Well don't you look like someone that will make Citizen of the Fucking Month," I spat as my fangs grew. "Such a waste! If you knew better then why commit to a crime at all without facing the consequences, YOU COWARD!" I growled louder, then; in a blink of an eye, I smacked him across the face with the butt end of my gun. His jaw cracked but didn't break as he fell the rest of the way, knocking him into unconsciousness. "You're lucky to be alive right now."
A small bead of blood ran from the corner of his mouth and I suddenly felt the urge to bit him. Despite his noxious smell, his blood was calling to me, and the sound of his beating heart was like drums to my ears. Clenching my jaw, my hand started to tremble as the need started to grow. Though, as my fortune would have it, another heartbeat was closing in behind me.
"Freeze! Drop the gun, girl," He said, his voice sounding tired, like he had finished a jog.
I didn't turn around, nor did I say a word as I decided to put my gun back in my coat pocket, form his tone of voice I could tell he was a Badge, but not one that I recognized from the SVU. Probably someone new, yet, for some reason, I began to feel something else as his presence overcame my senses.
"I didn't kill him. Yet," I said, starting us off casually.
"And I'm supposed to believe that?" He said, his voice becoming stronger with each breath he took. "Look, whoever you are, just step away from the suspect and let me do the job right!"
"Like there is a right way to do this job," I smirked and then turned to face him, "You should know that – that…" I trailed off when I saw his face, my smirk fading quickly. His face! I know that face! Slightly older and a little less hair, I know this man! B-But how!? Why? Why now!? It can't be him! It just can't be! But – it is! Oh! My! God!
"Whatever!" He said, for his old blue eyes were still at the perp, "Just back off and let me take… take over…!?" He stopped when those eyes turned to face me. Those eyes! How can I just forget those eyes belonging to the one person in this whole world that mattered to me!? Yet – he was here. Now. Standing before me and looking as shocked as I was.
Officer Dean McCoy was – in a word – stumped. This woman. That face! It couldn't be, but – it WAS! It had to be her! No matter how much she aged… how much she grew… not even her 'punk' outfit would hid her from him! He knew this woman! His next breath was lost as a surge of memories ran through his head like a VHS tape on fast forward.
He lowered his gun as the woman seemed to be rooted on the spot. None could say a word as they each stared into each other's eyes. Well, all Dean could see through those sunglasses of hers was her raised eyebrows and stunned expression. Her black lips tightened as he tried to think of anything rational. This wasn't an illusion from the hot sun! She was here! She! The one he was looking for!
His next word was so low he was sure it was a whisper, but he knew she would hear; "Carolyn?"
Then she was gone. In a flash of black movement she had jumped to a roof top and disappeared from sight. "WAIT! Please!" Too late though. One moment she was here, the next – she was gone. Again.
"Carolyn," He breathed again, suddenly feeling his strength diminish as overwhelming emotions threaten to land him on his knees. She's alive! She's here and alive! But he still couldn't fathom on what would make her flea from him. HIM! The man who helped raised her since she was a baby! WHY!?
"McCoy!" The voices of Munch and Tutuola called from behind. Not moments later they stood right beside him, looking over the still unconscious perp. "You caught him already?" Munch breathed but seamed hardly surprised. "Why didn't you call us or someone else for back up?"
"Hey, man? You look like you just saw a ghost," Tutuola was confused to see the strain of emotions playing across the old cop. "What happened?"
"I saw… a woman," He began; feeling shaky yet was still impressively on his feet. "She – was wearing all black. She… took him out right before I got here."
"Ah, shit!" Detective John cursed and quickly bent over the man to check if he had a pulse. "He's alive. He'll need some medical treatment for that jaw though. Dean? Give me a hand?"
"Ya," He breathed, slowly coming out of it as they dragged the dead weight back to his car. Although he was still in a daze, he drove the Camaro back to the station without trouble.
Something was up. The two Detectives knew that whenever Dean wasn't complaining about a dirty perp being dragged in his car, then something was seriously going through that man's head. But what?
After the criminal was dragged into their holding cell, they took Dean to the 'quiet room' to get some information out. Whatever had transpired between him and Dampire C, it couldn't have been good. They even let Olivia and Elliot in to try and help out their old friend.
"Alright, Dean," Tutuola pulled up a chair and sat next to him. Olivia sat across the desk while the other two hung out against the clear walls. "What did Dampire C say to you?"
"Dampire C? Dampire!?" The man suddenly came out of his stupor, for he couldn't believe that her old nickname was a part of that alien word. "What the Hell is that!? Hu? Some sort of punk lingo now that you're picking off of the streets?"
"It means half-vampire," Olivia said, getting to the point besides the awkward looks that were shared around the room.
"What!?" Dean's brows were pressed further down, if that was even possible. "Half what now!? Vampire!? Just what the fuck is going on here!? I mean really? Guys! If this is some sort of a sick joke then – Hey! You got me good!"
"It's not a joke, man," Tutuola stepped in. "Dampire C has been causing trouble since the day she got here. Which was over a month ago by now."
"Thinks she's Zorro's daughter," Munch put in, while cleaning his glasses, "Kills the criminals; aids the innocents. You know? A free loader to vigilante type girl."
"What?" Dean breathed, starting to feel the uneasy flow of emotions again.
"Did she threaten you?" Detective Elliot started to press, "I know she can be a hard ass bitch, but some of us thinks she means well. Right, Liv?"
"What's wrong?" She asked as the old officer took in a heavy sigh. His eyes were clouded as his face stayed hard as stone; although he looked like he was gonna crack at any second. Then, he did something that made them all curious. He reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a beat-up looking wallet. Duck taped by the seams, its black coating looked like it had seen better days. Then, he dug around inside one of the smaller compartments and pulled out a small picture. So small it could fit in the palm of anyone's hand.
"Who's that?" Munch asked the obvious question as Dean placed it on the table, next to a drawing that Olivia had pulled out of Dampire C. It was sooo close in comparison, but the age was different. In Dean's picture was a little girl with black pigtails on each side of her head. Sporting in a blue top and skirt, she was adorable as any baby would be with those big, brown, eyes.
"Cute picture. She one of yours?" Tutuola commented, but then froze when he saw how the child's round face was near similar to the drawing of C. "Wait a damn minute! Is that who I think it is!?"
"Is that – Dampire C!?" Elliot was at a lost as the old cop from Maine picked up the girl's picture and hovered it over the now, fierce drawing of the Dampire.
"She's my Goddaughter," Dean finally said. As silent as the room was, he could feel the weight of the world press down on his old shoulders. Memories of long ago played over and over again in his head.
"Again! G D! Again!" A small girl begged to be picked up and tossed again by her Godfather.
"Hold on, sweetie! G D has a sore back!" A younger looking Dean smiled down at her. Nonetheless, he would continue to play games with her and make her laugh till she would fall asleep in his arms.
His memories suddenly stopped when Tutuola leaned back in his chair and gave him a look that could put him in his own coffin. "You gotta be fucking kidding me!"
Here it is! The next chapter! So sorry for the long wait but I had some things that came up. Not to mention a nasty flu bug got me so it's been hard to focus on anything! .
Anyway, did you guess correctly? Don't worry if you didn't, but that's why I wanted to make these chapters special! It was her Godfather that was coming into play! Sorry for all you Count Fans but he'll be coming in later. Promise! : )
But the reasons that I'll be having the most fun on these next two chapters is because the man that plays her Godfather is: TA DA! BRUCE WILLIS! Oh ya! Mr. Bad Mouth/High on Action/and Sassy Remarks is gonna play Dampire C's role model and father figure! Anyone agree? No worries if you don't though, I just love that actor and though it was always a good, "strong" connection he had when I made C. So I thought it would be perfect!
Well, I'll start the next chapter now (as I am so excited to continue with it now that I'm feeling better) so I'll be off now! Thank you for all of your REVIEWS so far and I hope to see more on your awesome comments on my story! : D Hope you all had a good Mamorial Day too!
Love to all: BR2