A/N: Hahaha, I can just feel the enthusiasm for that first chapter. How was THAT for an opener?
For those of you that don't know, the title for this story comes from the song "Birds Fly (Whisper to a Scream)." It was originally a song by the British new wave band Icicle Works back in 1983. Of course, it experienced a bump in popularity when it was covered by Soho for the 1996 Scream soundtrack (it plays over the end credits). Obviously, I loved the hell out of this song and listen to it regularly.
I have to say, no other chapter had to be proofread as hard as that first chapter! You don't realize how much emotion you project onto your characters when you're forced to write them objectively. They have to behave as actors on the big screen without voice over or inner thoughts.
One thing I wanted to clarify; I normally list certain characters when they are the focus of the story. But without giving anything away, I'm just putting down Tori as the only listed character. She's the protagonist for the time being and we're going to cover a breadth of people in the Victorious universe. So, rest assured, like Scream this is an ensemble.
Can't have a mystery without other people, right?
There will be some allusions and references to the franchise that inspired this, but it won't be a copy of the plot from any of the movies. I really wanted it to be a love letter to the Scream series while allowing it to be its own thing.
I wish to update weekly, which is pretty healthy. If I can get it to you sooner, great but I don't want to burn myself out. Things have been picking up in my life and I only have so much time to devote to writing.
Sergeant David Vega arrived at the hospital, demanding to speak with the detective who called him.
"Vega! Uh, sir!"
He turned to see a lean older fellow and a babyface rookie.
"I'm Detective Woods and this is Detective Konrad."
"Yes," David nodded. "Heard about you," he then turned to Konrad. "You must be new."
"Sir, yes, sir!"
Konrad proceeded to stand at attention.
"Goddammit, son" admonished Woods. "I know he's our superior, but this isn't Parris Island."
"Sorry," nodded the young cop.
"Look, I don't have time for pleasantries. I heard Tori was taken here but they wouldn't tell me anything about Trina over the phone."
He grabbed Woods' arm.
"What did they do to her? Is she alright?"
"Sir?"
David looked at the two men.
"Wasn't my daughter assaulted?"
The eyes of the older detective widened.
"Oh, sir! I'm sorry but...I transferred out of sex crimes eight months ago. I'm in homicide now."
The sergeant looked like he was going to pass out.
"Hom-Homicide? But that..."
"I'm so sorry, sir" chimed in Konrad.
Vega was fortunate that there was a bench right next to him. Otherwise, nothing was going to stop him from hitting the floor. He held his head in his hands.
"Trina..." he sniffed. "Trina...no."
Woods kneeled down in front of him.
"I don't want to be indelicate, sir. But we need a positive ID on the deceased."
Tori held her stomach as her eyes fluttered open.
"Ahhhh," she groaned. "Where am I?"
"Take it easy," said a female voice.
She looked over to a nurse standing above her.
"You fainted and we took you to triage to make sure you didn't injure yourself."
"Trina? Where's...?"
The woman's face fell.
"I am so sorry, miss. But she's gone."
Tori curled up and cried hard. The nurse looked around for a blanket and covered the young girl. If she was in shock, she needed to be kept warm.
"Your father has been contacted and is on his way," she said as she stepped away.
She was left sobbing in the neatly empty room filled with empty beds and drawn curtains. Her voice bouncing off the walls.
David was shaking when he was brought over to the morgue.
The attendant unfurled the zipper to the body bag, exposing Trina's face.
He recoiled and turned away.
"That's her," he said wearily. "That's Trina."
"I'm very sorry, sir."
Woods nodded for the attendant to zip up the body.
"How did she die?"
"Stab wound in her back," replied Woods. "EMT's believed it had to have been exsanguination. There was so much blood at the scene."
"We took some samples and are having them tested," Konrad offered. "Perhaps the perpetrator left some DNA behind."
"If you wish, we could do an autopsy."
"No!"
David looked like he was going to throw up.
"Nobody touches her! She's had enough done to her; I'm not going to let my little girl be dissected on a slab."
Woods looked at Konrad.
"Alright, sir. You got it. We'll let you know about the DNA."
A blonde man in his twenties burst into the room and was surprised by the group of men.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't know anybody was in here."
David noticed the EMT badge on his shirt.
"Leonard?"
"Yes, sir" he nodded. "I was sent over to move the body over to the autopsy wing. This room needed to be cleaned."
"No," said Woods shaking his head. "No autopsy for this one."
"Are you still on duty?" asked David.
Leonard folded his arms.
"Sure am, sir. Another hour anyway."
David looked longingly at the body bag before he wiped his eyes.
"If you wouldn't mind, please escort my daughter to the Connor Funeral Home. I just want her out of this place and I need to check on my other daughter."
He then took a small notepad and tore off a piece of paper. David proceeded to write down his phone number.
"I would appreciate you taking care of this, son. I have a lot on my mind, and I need to know she's...just give me a call and I will make sure you're compensated for your trouble."
"Oh," the young man said. "Thank you, sir. I will."
Leonard shut the ambulance doors and hopped into the driver's seat.
"Hey! Hey! Hey! Shotgun!"
He let out a sigh when Terry jumped into the passenger side.
"What is it, Terry?"
"Dude, could you drop me off?"
Terry slammed the steering wheel.
"Uh, seriously? What happened to your mom?"
The slightly older fellow with the soul patch threw up his hands.
"She was held up at bingo. Wild life, you know."
Leonard shook his head as he started the engine. He then took out his phone and started typing.
"What's up?" asked Terry.
"Pulling up the directions for this place," Leonard explained.
He then put his phone down and drove off.
After being visibly bored, Terry glanced over at the clipboard in the center console.
"Whoa, hold on, Vega? As in Sergeant?"
"That's his oldest," Leonard replied, thumbing the rear of the vehicle. "He asked me to bring her to the funeral home."
Terry took a look back at the motionless body bag.
"Holy. Shit. That's crazy."
He then sat back and looked at his partner.
"You okay?" Terry asked. "Seem tense."
"Just got a lot on my mind," Leonard huffed. "Long day."
Terry nodded.
"Is it me?"
"Yeah, it kinda is" Leonard admitted. "I was hoping to do this errand and return the wagon and go home. Now I have to take you home and her to the parlor. I'm basically going to the other side of town and back again."
"Oh," he said while taking out a green hard candy. "Sorry."
"Whatever."
They drive for about ten minutes. The lights of the city begin to lessen as they go.
"So, where is this place?" asked Terry before getting slammed forward at the squeal of the brakes.
"What the hell?"
"Hey, man, why did you...?"
Terry didn't finish his thought when he looked at something on the road. It appeared to be someone laying, maybe struck by a vehicle.
"Terry, check it out."
"What?" he asked.
Leonard leaned in.
"Look, you wanted to tag along? Besides, you've been doing all the driving today and leaving the clients to me. Now its your turn to get your hands dirty."
Terry rolled his eyes, opened the door and started walking over to the prone body.
He got down on one knee to check a pulse but the person grabbed his arm, making the EMT jump.
"Ahhh!"
Terry looked over to see the ambulance and reached out for help. But the figure stood behind him, revealing a Ghostface costume. Terry tried to say something but was swiftly stifled by a blade to the jugular. Blood sprayed from his neck as he dropped like a sack of potatoes.
Ghostface then looks up to see Leonard hitting the gas in reverse only to lose all four of his tires with a loud hissing.
"FUCK!" cried Leonard.
He then threw the ambulance into park and dove out the driver's side door. But when he looked up, Ghostface was gone.
"What the hell is going on here?"
The sheen from the blade came in the corner of his eye when the hand came down on his face.
Tori was so exhausted from everything that night, but her nerves prevented her from getting any permission to sleep.
She sat up at the sound of footsteps.
"Tori?"
The teen turned and threw her arms around her father.
"DAD!"
The two embraced tightly, crying heavily.
"I should've been there," he sobbed. "I'm sorry."
"No, don't say that!" Tori protested. "It wasn't your fault."
"I've heard that sentence before," David sniffed.
Tori's eyes widened and she looked up at her father.
"That's right, it's a year almost."
David rested his arms.
"Next week," he quietly said.
"What are we going to do?" asked Tori.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"We're going to find whoever did this. They will pay. Just like that Daniels punk."
He then noticed Tori's pained expression.
"Sorry," David said. "Didn't mean to bring him up. Just slipped out."
Tori shook her head.
"It's fine. Good riddance, like you always said."
Tori stood up and began walking with her dad.
"Guess we can't go home now," she said.
"No, unfortunately. They're still collecting evidence."
The Latina shook her head.
"I don't think I could ever go back there again."
David nodded.
"Yeah, too quiet in that house now."
"I'm so tired."
"Let's go down to the station," he offered. "Safest place in town and there are beds."
"Okay," Tori sighed.
Over at the Vega residence, the recent crime scene had become rife with all manner of police. Blood samples, dusting for fingerprints, photographs taken of the carnage that plastered Trina's bedroom.
One of the men at the scene carefully shifted the chest of drawers when he heard something fall behind it.
He reached and fished out a diary.
"Ma'am!"
A redhead with glasses walked over to the guy.
"What did you find?"
He presented her with the book and with gloved hands, she began to flip through the pages. The entries go back a way, at least several months at quick glance. The blank pages at the very end show the diary had not been completely filled. Scanning the empty sheets, she happened on the most recent entry which was dated two weeks ago.
The woman covered her mouth with what she had read. She then randomly read entries going backwards.
"Get Woods on the phone," she ordered. "Now."
A/N: Woods and Konrad are named after two producers from the original Scream.