Short Stories with Tragic Endings

Chapter 5

-Syaoran Li-

I glanced at the silver wall clock ticking away against the white hallow makeshift walls separating offices and cubicles. Every second that passed seemed to mock me endlessly, taunting me… my crew… all the energy and time we have put into this case…

Tic, tic, tic, tic…

Tic, tic, tic, tic…

I moved my attention to the files in front of me. My desk was littered with horrific images of the brutal murders commit by the killer. Every image was stained red with blood… I can still smell it. The heavy suffocating stench of fresh blood…

On the walls. On the tiles. Soaked into the carpet. Soaked into the furniture. I've never realised how much blood the human body needs to survive. I never realised just how much blood can be spilt through a single cut. Just a small precise cut…

A blade piercing the skin, ripping through fragile flesh… Forced deeper while the victim is reduced to suffering screams… Blood trickles down, it is hot, it is red… It was alive… And as it drips onto the floor, onto torn clothes or onto silent furniture so the life it once carried with it drips away.

Tic, tic, tic, tic…

Going, going, going, going…

Tic, tic, tic, tic…

Going, going, going, going…

Tic.

Gone.

Life, removed from this earth in an instant. It takes nine moths for a baby to face the light of day, years of teaching and learning for a child to face life in every day and one cold instant for someone to take that life away. Life is, as the cliché goes, fragile.

Marissa Glen, a gossip and advice columnist. Renowned for her ability to tell even the most shocking of celebrity gossip over in a dignified manner. Renowned for her compassion to who ever writes advise to. She would never answer in a whim, she would always write every word with exact care.

Rika Tedra, a lifestyle writer. Renowned for her knowledge about fashion and the history there of. If she saw one item of clothing she could compare it by date, designer and brand. She had a knack for 'refreshing' old styles with new ones. Or so I am told.

John Tedra, known only as Tedra. He too was a lifestyle writer. He concentrated on film and literature. His judgement was trusted by thousands of readers, and he had yet to prove them wrong. If he said something was worth reading, it would be sold out the next day. Husband of Rika Tedra.

Tic, tic, tic, tic…

"Detective, come and look at this." I glanced up at the smug look on Chihiru's face. That woman always had something to grin about or feel smug about, even at the worse possible times. "I promise you, you don't want to miss this."

Frowning I followed the young officer to the conference room. The television was on and some distinguished daytime talk show was showing. The announcer was wearing a neat suit… "Today we are talking to the two the most noticeable voices in the issue surrounding Senator Tatted. Senator Tatted himself, and Miss Kinomoto, the political journalist from the Tokyo Times."

So that is why she got all dressed up for this morning. I assumed that she had some important meeting, but I didn't ask. She seemed so stressed about it. I felt a smug smile slip onto my lips as I watched my girlfriend smiling brightly at the camera. It took some time, but it was worth it to see that smile again.

"Good day Mr Sakurazawa." Her voice was bright and cheerful.

"Sakurazawa." The Senator's was bitter and hardly professional. There is no saving his image now, especially with that hound dog I call a girlfriend sitting next to him. "It is an honour to be here." Yeah right. He's scared shitless. "Miss Kinomoto."

"Senator Tatted, such a pleasure to see you again."

"Yes." He hissed through clenched teeth. I laughed with the others. How bitter. How sweet it must be for her. The little witch gains enormous pleasure from seeing him suffer.

"Now Senator, you say that all this evidence that has been brought up in court against you has been created in order to frame you."

"Yes. I am an upstanding citizen who has always tried my best to do what is best for the rest of the citizens of this city and this country. This is simply some smear campaign by someone who feels that they should be senator instead of me." Sakura stifled a giggle. When the camera showed her she was biting her lip, desperately trying to keep her giggles in. "It is only natural that you would find this amusing Miss Kinomoto."

"Oh yes, incredibly. Especially that last part."

"Hey detective, that girl of yours has spunk."

"I know!"

"Please senator, all your opponents are quite public about their opinions about you. In fact Senator Harisimo was winning the popularity polls even before you were accused of fraud. You were on your way down for some time now."

"That is what you believe Miss Kinomoto."

"I believe? No Senator, that is what the people of this country feel." Loud cheers blocked out her last sentence.

"You are a mockery to your profession Miss Kinomoto!"

"Do explain."

Drip, drip, drip… He listened. Drip… He just listened. Drip… He just listened to the sound. Drip… The sound he had learned to love. Drip… The sound he cherished the most. Drip… The sound he cherished the most next to her voice. Drip… The sound… Drip… The sound of life dripping way… Drip… The sound of blood. Drip…

-Sakura Kinomoto-

"Through your so-called journalistic investigation and newspaper you have published nothing but lies. This is all some made up story!" Made up story? Is this guy for real, we're not six anymore for goodness sake.

"Sue us then."

"I… Your character is questionable to say the least. Especially after your little break down three month ago. And I am told that you live with your boyfriend, you have no moral values."

"My boyfriend?" I blinked innocently and smiled at the camera while waving. "Hello Syaoran! Yes, I live with my boyfriend. It is proven that 43 of couples aren't married these days. So if I am immoral, then so is 26 of the city's population."

"That is not what I said!"

"And I had a nervous break down, true. Who wouldn't after finding their best friend's murdered body?" I stayed calm as I smiled innocently at him.

"Your family is littered with immoral behaviour! Your father married his student and your brother has a same sex relationship with another man!"

"Now really Senator, I am quite aware of my family's history. Nor am I ashamed of it. My father found his true love and stayed loyal to my mother until the day she died. My brother and his love were united in a legal lawful wedding ceremony. Which was beautiful, by the way. Everyone that knows me and my family knows about our different relationships."

"You are dating a detective."

"Is that a crime now? Excuse me for believing that the fine men and women protecting our fair city are allowed to have relationships."

"You… you…"

"What about you Senator. I am not the one under the microscope, now am I? No. What about your regular visits to the corner of 6th and 3rd? Or your lovely mistress I had the pleasure of meeting the other day? Perhaps you would like to tell us about one of the number of young women you intimidated into having sexual relations with you? Or maybe you would like to follow in Bill Clinton's footsteps and tell the public about your four year affair with your ex-secretary.

"You would perhaps love to hear about the love child you threw away fifteen years ago. He's quite the handsome young man. But that is not why we are here, now are we? We are here because your signature was found on several unauthorised documents implicating you in the theft of the hard working taxpayer's money. Now please tell me Senator, who will accuse whom of being immoral today?"

"Miss Kinomoto, do you have any proof for these serious acquisitions?"

"Of course I have Mr Sakurazawa. I wouldn't be a good journalist if I didn't." I have proof and I have backups of that proof and backups of the backups and backups of those backups. I am not going to let the story of the century slip through my fingers. You can forget about it.

"You should be careful Miss Kinomoto. You might one day end up like your dead friend."

"Is that a threat Senator? Because I know you don't want any accusations of possible murder against your name, now do you?"

"It is not a threat! It is simply a warning!" I watched him jump up. I lazily placed my elbow on the table and balanced my chin in the palm of my hand. "You have ruined my name! By your false…"

"You were quite capable of ruining your name on your own. Someone just had to find out about it sooner or later. It just so happens that your time is up and your little charade was exposed for what it is: a charade." I waved at his back as he stormed out. "Bye-bye Senator." I grinned at Mr Sakurazawa. "That went well."

"I've had better." I shrugged. "So you say there is proof of everything you've just said."

"Witnesses, testimonies, payslips, receipts, gifts, finger prints, recorded telephone calls, video images, photos and even DNA."

"Do the law teams of either parties have any knowledge about this evidence?"

"I am not at liberty to say so."

"Thank you Miss Kinomoto for your time."

"It is my pleasure Mr Sakurazawa." I watched the light switch to 'off air'. I sank back in my chair and watched people scurry about getting ready for other shows.

"Sakura Kinomoto and Xiao-lang Li, what a fine pair you two make." I lifted an eyebrow at the presenter as he stared at me over the rim of his glasses. "I hope the little one on its way is as bright as you two." I blinked at the man as he walked away and looked down at my own stomach. I'm not pregnant.

With a short story, the one you add to daily, you are the tragic loss.

"Syaoran!" I whined as I pushed open the door for our apartment. I tossed my coat over the chair. "Syaoran! Where are you?" I whined more as I walked through the apartment in search of him.

"I'm right here, what is it?" I blinked at him as he came out of the bathroom with a towel rapped around his waist.

"Am I fat?"

"What?"

"Am I fat?"

"No. You're like you usually are."

"Is my usual self fat?"

"For goodness sake Sakura, you are not fat. You're just not toned, that's all. Why do you ask?"

"Mr Sakurazawa thought I was pregnant. But look!" I lifted up my shirt and stared at my stomach. "Does it bulge or anything? Because it doesn't when I look in the mirror. See…" I poked myself. "And its soft, it's not hard like pregnant stomachs are."

"He was probably just teasing you. Stop poking yourself."

"He didn't look like he was teasing."

"You haven't skipped a period have you?"

"No, well… I don't know yet. I still have two weeks to wait."

"Take a pregnancy test if it will make you feel better."

"You're not freaked out about this?"

"Why should I be?" I blew up my cheeks at him. "We could always guarantee that you are pregnant."

"Oh, don't you dare! You're not touching me for the next three weeks."

-Syaoran Li-

"Me and my big mouth." I grinned at the girl as she lay sulking to herself next to me. I pulled her tight against me. "I hate you."

"Hmm, I know. With wild fiery passion. You looked really nice on television today."

"Hmf."

"Don't let the Senator get to you. He's just mud slinging, but he has nothing to sling."

"He'll have a field day if I really do get pregnant."

"So will I." She looked at me. Her green eyes narrowed in a glare. I let a laugh slip as I pressed my lips against her forehead in a soft kiss. "I won't mind being a father."

"I won't mind being a wife." Her tone of voice was rather matter of factly. Yeah, I know you want to be married. I pressed my nose in her hair and smelled the soft aroma of shampoo.

"Are you asking me to marry you Sakura Kinomoto?"

"Suppose I am?"

"I'll say yes."

"Great! I want a ring." I laughed at the girl's antics. She suddenly sat up straight. I frowned at her. "Syaoran, I just thought of something."

"You usually do." I sighed as the girl jumped out of bed. She pulled an old shirt of mine over her head before disappearing. I could hear her rumble through the bookshelves bursting with her and my books. "Sakura, get back into bed. Please."

"Just a minute." I rolled my eyes. That woman is impossible sometimes. "Ah-ha!" I assumed she found what ever she was looking for. She came waltzing back into the room with a book in her hands and a huge pleased grin on her face. "Look here." I stared at the content's page of a collection of short stories. "The titles, what do you see?"

"Gloom."

"No you idiot. Look closer."

"Death."

"No, the stories. Look here. The columnist, the entertainers, the sports writer… all journalists. Your killer is copying my varsity short stories!"

No story book ending of this fairytale of you.

Just the one composed with blood taken from your pen that you hold in your lifeless hand.