A/N: So, I'm free and healthier than ever! Hurray for me! I'm sure what happened to me won't repeat again. I'll be monitored and checked every two weeks.

Thanks a lot guys! And I'm surprised by your patience!

Also, I did well on my final tests. 9.7 as my final grade! Yay! My Scholarship is saved once again. Oh! I got a job, so I'll get weekends to write and continue stuff I owe to a few people on DeviantART. (I'm Sesshoumaru62, in case you're wondering).

Ok, here's the long-awaited chapter.

Hope you like it!

Chapter XII

Black Vibes Optional

He had no idea where he was.

Or where he was being taken to.

All he knew he was in a vehicle, being transported with the rest of his enemies.

The young Belgian was bleeding. He wouldn't mind about a wounded arm or two, but... his chest? Why does he keep getting himself into this kind of messes? Why does he insist in poking his nose where it doesn't belong?

Part of his job... or that's what he says.

He had his eyes covered by a dark cloth, and all he was able to do was hearing, concentrating in the voices. His strength was getting lower as his interest about a familiar voice was growing.

He remembers it; unfortunately, he couldn't tell who it was. Because of his almost fainted state, and knowledge about other languages, Tintin could almost tell what he was talking about, and, at the same time, some of his questions were being answered.

-Your pain won't last that long, boy.- the voice said.- As soon as we arrive...-

Suddenly, the voice vanished as Tintin fainted.

-xxx-

The dim-witted detectives, who were riding each a motorcycle, were following Snowy to what appears to be the way to, what's known by the Italian residents, the "Ghost Town". The path was a chilling dark blue-red coloured, with a lot of linear brown-greyish-like-coloured dead trees. Second within second, the surroundings were starting to turn eerie, with a darker, overgrown path, and the Thom(p)sons were trying not to get scared.

-Are you sure this is the correct way, Snowy?- Thomson asked with a scared voice

-Of course I'm sure!- Snowy "replied"- I'm a dog and my nose never lies!-

Once they arrived, like an hour later, they heard nothing but a deadly silence.

No crows... not even the sound of the present mist.

-Are you sure Tintin's here?- Thompson asked very scared.

Snowy nodded, and continued tracking Tintin.

As they are following the dog, Thomson and Thompson begin to stutter as if something was scaring them. Snowy perceives this and then turns and tries to comfort both men. After a few seconds, the reporter's pet leads them to wherever he perceived Tintin's scent. Finally, like ten minutes later, they arrived to what's left of Lavandonia town. It was pretty dark, with a creepy environment, which it was kind of normal, since it was around 2:30 a.m., hours later after Tintin was shot and captured by Gérémi's men. As they proceed, the dim-witted detectives begin to lag behind. They look at the hideous buildings, the rubble, water puddles, and some blood in the ground and oil. Frightened, both gasp at unison and try to locate Snowy with their sight.

However, he was nowhere to be seen.

They kept on going north, until...

.

.

.

Suddenly, a howl was heard.

-Snowy!- Both exclaimed and went to search the dog.

They finally found him... in the burned house next where it used to be the Lavandonia's Radio Tower. Snowy was howling. This time, he was like crying, because he recognized the blood belongs to his owner. The animal feared the worse.

The Thom(p)sons approached where the dog was and saw the blood puddles in the ground. They sighed, relieved, as they knew Tintin didn't lose a lot of blood. One of them looked back to Snowy, and saw a tear form at the corner of his right eye.

-Snowy, Tintin is still alive.- Thompson said as he hugged the dog, comforting him.

-Just calm yourself down and track him!- Thomson continued

-Come on, Snowy!-

-Let's continue!-

After being motivated by the detectives, a look of determination appears in Snowy's face. He barks to show he recovered himself and he's ready to continue the search.

The white dog suddenly perceives a scent and starts to sniff.

-What is it?- Thomson asked

-Is it Tintin's scent?- Thompson asked

Snowy continues sniffing until he recognizes Tintin's scent. Then, he runs, following the smell. The detectives' then race after, following the dog.

-xxx-

It was an ominous, silver room.

Tintin sits behind the table, with his head slumped down. Slowly, he awakens to find his arms and legs duct-taped to the arms and legs of the chair and Joshua sitting across from him, drinking a cup of hot tea. The lad then looks around the room, trying to orient himself.

-Nothing personal. I just wanted to sit down with a cup of tea before getting answers from you.- The red-haired gangster said

-Where am I?- he asked

-Does it matter?- Vlamynck replied as he sipped his tea.- Well, if you want to know... we are far away from the Ghost Town.-

-Ghost Town?-

-You know... the abandoned part of Palermo. Pretty scary, right? Ever heard of Lavandonia Town and its ghost sightings in the Radio Tower built above a graveyard?-

-What kind of ridiculous tale is that?-

-A real one.- Joshua replied with a small laugh as he sipped his tea once again.- You know... to be a reporter, you appear not to believe in ghosts.-

-I'm not superstitious.-

-Neither are we.-

-We? As in you and...-

-The guys.-

-What do you want?-

-You... out of the map.-

-What are you hiding?-

-Does it matter?-

-You and your gang are putting the life of innocent people in danger.-

-We don't care as long as we receive the pay for our products.- he laughed.- Boy... you start to sound like my sister.-

-Who?-

-I don't remember what her name was.- Joshua continued.- Last time I saw her was long ago, when I was in my mid-teens.-

-She got killed?-

-That what my parents said to me two years later after I went to jail.- he sipped what was left of his tea.- I believe somebody double-crossed me... but, whoever it was, is dead, along with those "Circle of Paris" bastards. They are just amateurs when compared with me.-

-You seem to be an amateur.-

-Appearances trick minds, were you aware of it? That's why everybody thought of you when the witnesses were trying to describe me.-

-I don't get anything you're trying to say.-

-We look alike.- the man replied with a smile.- However, I doubt we're related, considering you prefer to be a loser, goody-two-shoes rather than a "powerful businessman".- Joshua then looked at Tintin as he left the cup on the table, and examined his face. -You know... you look like her.-

I just hope it's a coincidence! Tintin said in his mind as he tried not to look surprised.

The lad saw the man was taking a "portable" mirror from his coat. Why a man would bring a mirror with him? Tintin wondered as Joshua stands, and slowly moves around the table toward the lad. The older one puts the mirror in a position both were able to see their reflections. The reporter was keeping it cool, trying not to say something "offensive".

About the reflection of the males, there was, in fact, a resemblance. Tintin couldn't believe it. The same tone of red hair (if you don't count Tintin's hair is still blonde) and skin, the curve of the lips, and the tilt to the nose; the head shapes were similar...

There's no resemblance! That's just my imagination! Tintin exclaimed in his thoughts.

Joshua, somehow, perceived the reporter's thoughts.

-You scared?- He asked

-Actually, I'm a bit surprised.- Tintin replied, trying to sound cool.- But that doesn't mean we're related.-

-There's a chance.- Joshua said as he left to his seat.- We don't know.-

-Enough about it!- Tintin said.- I know these kind of tricky mental games you're playing with!-

-Tic, tic, tic! That´s the sound of your life running out!- Joshua said

- Tic, tic, tic! That´s the sound of my patience running out!- Tintin replied with a desperate tone.

Joshua then laughed.

-What's so funny?- Tintin asked

-Silly boy, can't you see it?- Joshua asked with a smile.- You have the enough guts to be a powerful man!-

-What do you mean?- The lad asked once again with the same tone.

-You can be one of us.- Joshua said.- We can give you a "makeover". Nobody will ever realize it's you. You're perfect for us!-

-I'll never join you!- Tintin said.- Never!-

-You'll regret it.- Joshua said.- You know how many people we have in the "waiting list"? You have any idea of how many people have even murdered just to be part of our family? You know how powerful we are now? Were you aware of the pay we receive per hour? It's so damn huge you won't even believe it. It's much enough to retire!-

After a moment of silence, Vlamynck grew tired of not having a response from the Belgian reporter.

-You know what?- Joshua asked.- I'll be back in two hours. I hope by that time you have meditated twice your decision. It's a once-in-a-life opportunity.-

Once he left, he closed the door and left to the room next to it, where his friends were. They appeared they saw everything, and the red-haired gangster started to laugh.

-That boy didn't seem to show any emotion with the last part of the conversation.- Scott said.

-Give him a rest.- Joshua said.- We'll try later. By the way, where's...?-

-He left with Gérémi and Tom to see Allan.- Harvey said.- He's still "in coma".-

-Oh man...- Joshua sighed.- If he doesn't awake soon... we'll be screwed more than we are now.-

-xxx-

11:40 a.m.

Captain Haddock returned to the Sakharine Manor after a long search.

Unfortunately, he didn't have a single clue about the whereabouts of Tintin or Snowy. He was desperate. It's been almost a week since their fight. The sailor doubted if his friend was still alive. He stopped smoking, not because the Sakharines didn't tolerate the smoke. He did it because he couldn't enjoy it. The black-bearded man was blaming himself because of what happened. He was about to drown himself into depression, and, probably, to his own death.

The Captain went towards the bathroom, thinking he'd relax if he takes a cold shower.

As soon as he locked the door and got his clothes off, the black-bearded sailor went towards the tub and turned the shower on.

The first cold droplets hit his skin as he stood there without moving at all.

The Captain starts to wash and soap himself. Every second was like a minute, a minute like an hour, an hour like a day. The water was so fresh and strong enough to wash his musk-like smell off.

Suddenly, he lets a few tears out and he appears to not mind, as the rain was "hiding them". There is still a small worry in his eyes, but he looked somewhat relieved. It was like the shower was washing away his problems, making him feeling so... free. Haddock then closed his eyes, raised his head, and opened his mouth to catch the rain, at the same time he started to smile. The drops were dancing in his lips, moving through his body, until they met the floor, disappearing in the water that was now cleaning his feet.

Like twelve minutes later, he turned off the shower and took a towel.

He felt better, lighter, and full of energy.

The Captain then started to dry himself when something took his attention.

A bottle of hair dye.

He gave a weird look and took it. The male knew there was something wrong with the bottle.

It was almost empty.

He recalls he heard Annia dyes her hair once every four months. And the last time she did it was two months ago. The bottle had signs of being used recently, and he suddenly remembers the only ones who were using that bathroom were Tintin and him, not anyone else.

Haddock then looks at the floor and sees a small, red-coloured piece of hair behind the washstand.

He takes it, carefully, and examines it close up.

Could it be? He thinks

Then he realizes why the police never found Tintin.

Captain Haddock smiles at this, knowing in what he'll be focusing now.

Around an hour and a half later, he leaves the Manor, ready to continue his search.

Unfortunately, the streets of Palermo were deserted. Not a single person outside.

-It's strange how the alerts can alter the citizens, right?- a male voice said

The Captain turned and saw a man with a nerdy look: light brown hair, glasses, long, dark-brown-coloured coat, brown pants and shoes, a white shirt, and pale skin.

-Who are you?- The sailor asked

-Detective Harold Doppler.- he said as he showed his ID, upside down.- I was sent to replace the former detectives from the "Ying-Yang Boys" case.-

Haddock wanted to laugh.

Like the Thom(p)sons implied before, he appeared not to be qualified for a serious case like this. Doppler seems to be around 22 years old, young... in other words: fresh meat.

-Are you sure it's not a joke?- The Captain asked, trying not to sound offensive.

-My superiors sent me here.- Doppler replied.- So I'm sure it's not a prank. Tell me... you know where Tintin is?-

-Believe me,- Haddock continued.- if I really knew where he was, he'd have been already in jail.-

-You have at least any idea where he is?-

-I don't know where he is.- Haddock replied, trying not to sound desperate.- Maybe the Lieutenant has a clue and you're missing it because you're here.-

-Oh, fine.- Doppler replied.- So I'll go now. If you happen to find something, contact me.- He said as he left

What kind of joke is he? The Captain wondered and continued his search, like if that awkward moment never happened.

-xxx-

Two hours later, in the unknown location where the gangsters were, in another room, Gérémi was left alone, keeping an eye on Allan, who was lying unconscious on a bed. The old man was worrying each second. He sighs softly as he bent his head over, and stares at the floor.

-Allan...- he whispered.

Suddenly, the sound of an opening door is heard.

-How's he doing?- Joshua asked

-He's still unconscious.- The old man replied.

-I'm sorry about this.- Joshua said as he sat in the chair next to Gérémi.

-It's not your fault.- Bonilla replied.- Allan wanted to show he never gave up, even when that wasn't really necessary.-

-I wish I was there.- Joshua continued.-You always told me to watch out for Allan.-

-It's my fault.- Gérémi said.- I told you to finish your part of the plan.-

-Boss...-

-I offer my apologies, Josh.- The old gangster raises his head slowly, brushes his short, almost white-coloured hair, with his hand. There is fear and guilt in his eyes as they focus on the watch he had in the left hand.- I'm feeling something I think I've never felt before.-

-Really? How do you describe it?-

-It's like... fear, sadness...- he said as he puts his hand on his heart.- and my heart is beating fast. Do you know what is that?-

- I think you're worried about Allan's fate.-

-Is it true?-

- I don't know.- the red-haired gangster replied.- Are you?-

Gérémi sighs and he bent his head over, and stares again at the floor. Later, he turns his head in the object Joshua brought with him. He appears he didn't notice it, as he was flooded with memories about the unconscious male.

-What's that?- the old man asks

-Oh.- Joshua replied.- It's... a model of a sailing ship.-

-Where do you found that?- Gérémi demanded

-Alphonse and I found it in the boy's case.- Joshua replied as he directed his sight to the model, that was in a transparent case, probably made of a resistant acrylic.- I guess he was planning to sell it to a collector or something.-

-Give me that ship.-

Joshua then gives the model to his boss and the latter one leaves with it.

After a few seconds, the red-haired gangster leaves the room and closes the door.

Meanwhile, Gérémi walks towards the interrogatory room as he examines with his eyes the ship model.

How could it be possible for that brat to have this? He wondered. I gave the model to someone who deserved it years ago. There's no way he could... unless...

Tintin was still sitting behind the table, with his arms and legs duct-taped to the chair. He was now wondering on how to escape and call the police, or at least Captain Haddock. He started to think if his friend was still around Italy or already left to Marlinspike with Snowy.

Suddenly, Gérémi enters, enraged, to the room and, carefully, puts the ship model on the table.

-Where did you get that?- the gangster demanded with a serious voice

After a moment of silence, Tintin finally answers.

-A friend of mine gave it to me.- he said

-A friend?- he asked

-Yes.-

-How old?-

-Around my age I presume.-

Gérémi laughed a bit.

-I don't believe you.- Gérémi said.- Tell me... do you know, or... are you related to a man named Georges van Prosper?-

He knew the name, and the one who used it.

-I'm not.- he lied

-Your eyes are like his.-

-He's not the only one in this world with this eye colour. Besides, why do you think that man and I are related?- he asked.- I bet we don't even look alike.-

The old gangster laughed.

-You just see what you want to see, right?.- Tintin asked

-I see what my eyes perceive, silly boy.- Gérémi said.- And what you are... just a stone in the way, a stain in the clothes, a pain in the neck.-

-I think I got what you try to say.- Tintin said.- I don't even know who you are, and you know who I am. Kind of curious, huh?-

-You don't know who I am? Never heard of me?-

-I need something to refresh my mind. You're not the only one whose plans I thwart.-

Gérémi laughed and then slapped Tintin.

-OW! What was that for?-

-Silly boy. Don't insult me. How did you get this ship!-

-I already told you. A person around my age gave it to me!-

Tintin's slapped again.

-Now what?-

-I'm losing my patience with you, brat. If you tell me a lie one more time, I swear I'll...-

-Slap me to death?-

Then, a long pause came.

-You think I'm a pastiche, right?- The old man growled, with a more calmed and serious voice, as he was face-to-face with Tintin.

-You might be.- the lad replied

Gérémi turns back and walks a few steps away from the reporter.

-Killing you will relieve me in a way your mind can't imagine.- Gérémi said.- You should know this isn't easy for me.-

-It isn't?-

-You've done more to deserve my dagger than anyone. However, damaging or killing you won't give me the power I desire, but the satisfaction of doing this will compensate my action.-The old man said as he takes a dagger from his jacket and abruptly slices Tintin's chest.

Shocked by this, Tintin gasps and tries to ignore the pain and bleeding.

-I can give you a tranquilizer, if you'd like.- Bonilla said.- I don't normally offer that service.-

After a long pause, he slices the reporter's chest once again. This time, it was slower, like if he was enjoying every second, every drop of blood coming out from the lad's body. Tintin gasped for air once again as he gets slapped by Bonilla.

-I thought you were more a resistant type.- Gérémi said as he cleans his dagger.- Maybe killing you will give me the power I need to complete the goals you truncated.-

-Do you desire power so much?- Tintin asks.- Why do you seek it?-

Gérémi gave a small laugh.

-The path I want to walk is the way of supreme conquest, and power is necessary to walk that path.- Gérémi said.

-Supreme conquest?-

-You intend to stop me?- Bonilla asks menacingly

-If I say yes... will you kill me?-Tintin asks

-Perhaps I will... with my bare hands.- Gérémi replied with an evil smile as he put his dagger away and left the room.

-xxx-

Two hours, thirty-four minutes later...

Allan finally woke up.

He is a little dizzy, can barely stand, and he's shaking so much. Everything is blurry for him. The man approaches the door and leaves the room.

Tom then sees him and sighs with relieving.

-Glad you're finally awake, Allan.- he says as he approaches the man and takes him to the interrogatory room as he continues talking and gives him a gun.- The boy doesn't want to answer what we ask. So the guys and I decided you could make him answer using this gun, okay?-

Allan nodded.

-Good.- Tom said.- Remember, don't kill him, just intimidate him.-

Confused, Allan entered to the room and closed it. He turns his head and sees Tintin, still duct-taped, with a few bloodstains in his clothes. The lad's expression changed into a surprised-scared one when he saw the gun in his hands. Many scenarios that could happen at this instant started to appear in his mind. He didn't know which of those were going to occur.

Tintin perceived this was the end of him.

His heart was about to stop, when, finally, the older male broke the silence.

-Who are you?- Allan asked

-xxx-

A/N: I hope you liked it! I think there are a few mysteries here, so in the next chapter might be revealed. By the way, Harold Doppler is sort of based from Napoleon Dynamite, in case you weren't aware.

If there was something OOC, please tell me so I can fix it!

BTW, if I have grammatical mistakes please tell me (and where are they xD)!

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