Chapter Two

The Chimera

"Again and again, these murders are increasing! This isn't adding up!" Cain screamed at the top of his lungs. He had heard about the church madness almost to quickly. He had already investigated the scene. The church was right across the street from his domain. He felt shame inside himself. He could've saved those people, if only he had payed more attention to the church. He probably would of spotted the killer, but he was careless. Riff told him not to fret about it. He had said it wasn't his duty to watch the church for random shootings, but Cain didn't buy his little comfort story. Cain had to take it easy on his head though.

Ever since the first shooting at the foster home, he's been getting these vivid thoughts, perfectly laid out before him. One spin, one bullet, thousands of causaties. The thoughts spoke to him, telling him to join in the fun, with malicous voices and demanding tones. Cain had ignored them, since murder was against his will, and God's will, which he strongly supported. What ever this little game was, he knew it was wrong in every way possible. Strangely though, it reminded him of something.

In his head, a memory was playing. Cain was standing in a cicrle, with three other people. It was too dark and foggy to see their faces, but faintly, he could hear the spinning of a barrel. A gun? It had to be, nothing else made that sound. Then the next sound was a click. No fire, no boom. Then, it was passed into his hand, the platinum weapon, then the memory ended. This was nothing Cain had experinced yet, so he must of been dreaming it, or was it a Deja Vu? No, couldn't be, nothing like that would happen to him. Cain would never allow himself to throw away his soul to a devilish game of suicide.

There had to be more of this case. He couldn't settle his thoughts on this shooting. There had to be some kind of clue. Pulling up a sheet of paper from the side desk, he went over his anaylzis once more, to see if he missed some kind of clue.

Finger prints, none the killer was wearing gloves. No weapon was found on the seen, or bodies, just blood and various body parts. No foot prints, so apparently the killer had to be on the ceiling or wall, but that didn't explain anything ethier. No one could walk on walls. No witnesses, as usual, so nothing was left to help him solve this mystery. Slapping his forehead, Cain sat in his red velvet chair, and sighed heavily.

"I'll never figure this out."

As he settle down, and relaxed his body, the thoughts returned.

"Join the game, play with us. It's a lot of fun, dear Cain..." The voices countinued, increasing in volume and demanding more and more...

It was now late in evening, and the young Earl had nothing better to do. His servant Riff had left this fine evening to take care of important errands. Cain tried thinking of something he could do outside of his quarters, and that doesn't involed getting him killed. Hard decision. Wouldn't matter. If he was threatened by anyone, Cain had good firearm skill, only to be used for protection. Now the trick was sneaking out of the manison, without getting caught by anyone. Easier said than done, unless you're the smart Earl Cain Hargreaves.

Walking down a hallway containing millions of family portraits, he made his way down to the oldest painting there. The first Hargreaves, had had a brain as brilliant as the young earl. Looking around a few times before taking action, Cain reached up to the highest far left corner of the frame of the painting. Once his finger tips reached it, he pushed a tiny button, secretly carved into the frame. Quickly after, Cain fell through the hallway floor, into a secret tunnel that only he and Riff knew about. A Hargreaves secret, but that was just one of the many of them.

Running through the secret tunnel, Cain chuckled quietly to himself. He's never felt so free in his life, expect for the voices in his head. The more active he was, the quieter the voices. That was a good thing.

Reaching the end of the tunnel, he pulled a lever down, to reveal yet another button. Pushing it exactly nine times, he was raised up to the Earth's surface, directly in an abandended alley way, one block away from the manison.

"Suckers." Cain muttered, putting on his top hat, and walking the streets all alone, armed and ready, and voices chatting quietly in his head...

The bar was quite chatting this evening. Drunks talking about the dancers on the poles, and of course the sports. It was that time of year anyway. The bartender serving drinks, the smell of greasy cheeseburgers filled the room far more than the cigireatte smoke. Only half an hour left anyway.

Commiting early in the day? That was a new one, but it was what the rules required. Tokage had studied them well, it burned into his skull. He read the rule book, and he knew the controls, and commands. Once again, the boy found himself waiting, only in disquise this time. A large hat covered his green hair, and his red eyes were shadowed. For all they knew, he was a regular stranger, looking to get lucky like the rest of them, but this boy had better and more interesting intentions. Quietly, under all the noise and his large trench coat, he was spinning the barrel, letting the clicking fill his eardrums. The clicking was a nice sound, but the bangs were even better. Contastly, he would glance at the small wrist watch, checking the time. He didn't want to miss his cue, or it would mess up the whole process. More and more strangers came in, just a few more, and then it was time to jump into action. Looking up, once again, he gazed around the room, then bit his lip. One player had just entered the game.

Cain had entered the bar, hearing the noise outside made him want to visit, and he was a regular here. He liked flirting with the women constantly. Looking around for a table to sit at, he noticed a strange looking person, all dressed in a large trench coat, and a large hat. Odd, most people take off their trench coats. With high expectations, he approached the man's table, and sat before him.

"Hello, are you cold?" he asked. The stranger didn't look up from his focus point, his wrist watch.

"Yes, extremely." they spoke, their voice sending chills down Cain's spine.

"Well, at least remove your hat." Cain said, taking off his top hat, trying to get the other man to. However, he didn't budge, and didn't look up from his wrist watch.

"No thank you." he grunted, looking around the bar once more.

"Damn it." Tokage thought. "I have to wait even longer!" Now that Cain had made his entrance into the stage, Tokage had the wait for the numbers to double. He had to keep it even, or things could get ugly. "Whyc an't I just kill him with them!" Tokage screamed in his thoughts.

"No, you can't use friendly fire." a voice countered into his thoughts. "You must play by the rules, and one is not killing other players." Sometimes Tokage hated the rules, but they were put there to be followed, not disobeyed. Now he had to wait for another ten to fifteen mintues, unless Cain left, but he didn't expect that to be soon.

"Maybe I can get him to leave." Tokage thought, but how? He had studied Cain's player profile, and he didn't like these murders he had caused. So, maybe a little white lie can help, but gotta think of a good one.

"Excuse me," Tokage spoke quietly, trying to hide his malicous voice, but speak up over the noise, "Are you Cain Hargreaves?"

Turning his attention back to the stranger, he nodded.
"Yes, how did you know?"

"Lucky guess. I wanted to ask you something. Do you anything about the murders of the foster home and church shootings?"

"I know a lot. I going to find that killer and give him true justice! I'll send him straight to hell!" Cain's thoughts had changed. This is stranger knew about the shootings, strange, was he a survivor, no maybe a evasedropper, or a news reporter. "Why do you ask anyway?"

"I heard about him. He strikes in areas that shape into hex. He goes counter-clock wise, so I think he'll be heading to...the train station at South Side." Rising from the chair immedatly, Cain garbbed his top hat.

"Thank you sir!" with that, he barged out the door.

"Well, I was only lying half-way. I'll strick the station last, but now, I only have to wait two mintues." Tokage thought, spinning the barrel once again.

Cain was running faster than he ever had. This was his chance. He'd find the killer, turn him in, or kill him. He found him this time. The train station, he had to be there. Cain had forgotten to ask what he looked like, infact, it might help if he did, but did he have time to turn around and ask? He might see that man again, and he hoped he had.

Continuing his running, he came to the busier part of the city. It was rush hour after all, the worst time to be trying to get from place to place, however Cain had had this all planned out in his head. Dodging past people, he picked up more and more speed, until he reached the train station gates. Quickly barging in, he looked around. Not that many people were there, but looked at Cain.

"Everyone, let's go!" he shouted, "Someone in here is going to murder you all. The same man who murdered the children at the foster home, and killed the people at the church!" After a brief moment of silence, they burst out laughing.

"Very funny, but sorry. No firearms are allowed past the station gates. Nice try." an older man chuckled at him.

"No, I'm serious!" he shouted. How could they not believe him. Everything he said was true. They didn't believe that someone is going to kill them? He was out there, but who was he. If only Cain had remebered for a description.

"Milord!" a voice shouted from outside the station gates. Turning around quickly, Cain faced Riff, whow as panting and eyes blood shot.
"Riff, what's going on? Why're you out of breath?" Cain asked, walking to his servant, and holding his shoulders.

"The...bar. You were just there, but I'm glad you're here." he said.

"Why? Did something happen?" Cain asked, raising his voice in fear. Riff stayed silent then looked up at his master.

"Yes. Another shooting. No one survived in that bar." Cain's eyes widened, and his thoughts went crazy.

"NO! I MISSED HIM!" he thought. What kind of protector is he if he can't even get the right directions. Then it hit him to soon. The man that told him where the killer was? Could he be...the one causing the trouble, the one commiting the crimes? Was it the man in the trench coat? Or did the killer arrive shortly after Cain left!

Author's Note: Ok I tried increasing the lenght of the story, but I still didn't do it to well. I focused this chapter on Cain Hargreaves, and the next will focus on the next. I am still working on the setup, but trying to add in some excitment. I'll tell you right now, that writing 13 stories is really really hard! I'll keep trying, harder and harder, and hope I don't end up messing up with anything. I hope you keep on reading, and sorry if it's boring at the start, and I hope it get's better in the end.