I have the next chapter almost completely written. It should be up on Fridayish-Sunday

-Keta

Chapter 3

Lacing his fingers together and laying them on the table, he knows that he looks like someone about to strike a deal, but Flug can't bring himself to sit in any other position; he won't let himself hide his face and twist his hands nervously in his lap. He won't let their ideas persist.

But the tapping of the second detective's pencil is irritating the hell out of him, and if he doesn't watch his temper, he might do something that he'll regret.

"I didn't kill my sister," he asserts, his voice surprisingly steady and sure despite the adrenaline crash that's wracking his thin frame. "No matter how long you keep me here, that won't change the fact that she was killed by Ice Caster."

"Yes, you've told us that," the first detective drawls, and Flug is struck with the desire to rip the graying man's face off. "But we're having a little trouble with how Ice Caster and Captain Colossus are dead, but you're still alive."

Flug forces himself to look down and to the right as if he were recalling the memory instead of constructing the right amount of truth and lie to convince the police of an altered retelling of the afternoon's events. "There was this creature..." A part of him feels bad for blaming it on Black Hat, but he's sure that a creature that found dead bodies beautiful wouldn't care about the deaths being attributed to him. "It just walked into the alley, and the next thing I know, it starts ripping the heroes and villains apart."

"And what did it look like," the second asks as she scribbles away at her notepad.

'Like the man sitting in front of you.' Flug sighs. "It was a really tall humanoid with dark gray or black skin, and it was dressed up kind of like a stereotypical Victorian Englishman. It even had a top hat."

"Black Hat," the second detective curses, and after dropping her pencil to the desk, she gives Flug a pitying look. "You're very lucky to be alive..." The older man nods in agreement. "Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Slys-"

"Doctor," he cuts in.

"Sorry, Dr. Slys. You're free to go..." The door swings open, and Flug quickly stands up, intending to leave before they come to their senses.

"Please be careful... If you see Black Hat again, please don't antagonize him."

He glances over his shoulder, eyes flashing golden, not that the detective can tell though his bangs. "I'll keep that in mind..."

Considering his bloodied clothes and obvious exhaustion, Flug isn't surprised when he's offered a ride home, and he gratefully accepts, knowing that he'd likely have the cops called on him if he tried to walk home. When they pull up to his apartment, he slips out of the car with a whispered thanks to his driver and walks up the steps, purposely ignoring those the people on the sidewalk. He unlocks the front door and slips inside, locking it again behind him before walking up the second flight of stairs.

He counts himself lucky that his elderly, floor neighbor isn't outside; he doesn't want her to stare at him too... He doesn't want to explain to her that Kayla's gone...

He opens his apartment door and slips inside, nearly slamming the door in his haste to hide from reality, but reality's followed him home.

On the table is a black vase of white carnations and hydrangeas, and a card, so dark that it soaks up the light around it... It reminds him of the business card in his pocket.

With a shaking hand, he reaches out and snatches up the card. It's inside is just as black as the out, with the exception of the white writing inside. The handwriting is so elegant and lovely that Flug's struck with appreciation before his brain catches up with what his eyes are reading.

'Sorry for your loss, dear doctor,' it reads. 'I know these next days will be hard for you, but I'm sure that you'll come out stronger in the end... And I will be waiting when you come to your senses.'

Once again, there's the phone number, and the compulsion to call it strikes him. He catches himself reaching for his cell phone, but a mere moment later, he drops both the card and phone.

"I don't have time for this bullshit," he growls and marches into his bedroom.