The Devil Within the Angel
Summary: Everyone always thought he was an angel. Oh how wrong they were.
Warning(s): Mentions of light torture, character death, ooc, AU, crappy writing. Happy belated Halloween!
I've learned a lot about good and evil. They are not always as they appear to be.
-Charles Van Doren
FOURTEENTH BODY FOUND, SERIAL KILLER STRIKES AGAIN
Local police are baffled. Two months ago, a body was found near the bank of the South Blue river. The body was burnt beyond recognition, but firefighters and FBI experts are still unsure as to what the killer used in setting the fire. "It's unlike anything we've ever seen," commented the Chief of New World's Fire Department. "It was no ordinary fire."
"Fourteen dead and officials have no clues. This guy must be good," Thatch tossed the newspaper to the side, bringing out his lighter to relight the dead cigarette that hung from his mouth.
"He'll screw up eventually," Marco responded, drying the mug in his hand with a mundane expression. "Most serial killers usually do."
"Yeah, but… I don't know, this guy seems different. I don't think he'll be caught anytime soon." The brunette gave a huff of frustration when his lighter refused to cooperate with him. "I bet he becomes more famous than the Zodiac or somethin'."
"I think you're giving this guy too much credit," the blond mumbled, slight irritation clear in his voice. "He's just like all the other killers out there."
"Oh really? Then why can't the FBI and Fire Department find out what kind of accelerant he used to start his fires? Trust me, he is definitely not like your average killer." The lighter finally came to life. "I'd stake my life on it."
Marco twitched at the words. "If you're that eager to die, I could just kill you now if you'd like."
"What, and miss all the years pranking the shiznit out of you? I don't think so."
"…Did you just say 'shiznit'?"
"Yeah…?"
"Don't ever say that again."
"But wh–"
"Ever."
"Fine, fine. So anyway, what do you think of our new recruit?"
"Ace? I think he's a good kid. Took us forever to finally convince him to enter our family though." Marco could still remember the blatant stubbornness of the freckled male the first time they met him. The kid had absolutely downright refused to join, claiming that he didn't need a father figure in his life or want one. After over a hundred days though, Marco had finally gotten through the male's unusually tough defenses with soft and kind, but strong, words.
As it turned out, Ace wasn't exactly what Marco had expected. He expected the kid to be, well, somewhat of an idiot. He couldn't have been more wrong. Ace was practically a genius in certain subjects. Engineering, chemistry, botany, biology, astronomy, anatomy, mathematics, physics… Hell, he was great even at pomology and linguistics. Still, Ace did have his rather idiotic moments. Not too mention his bizarre narcolepsy, that caused him to fall asleep at random, scared the hell out of anyone who was unaware of his condition.
Marco was pretty sure he had a mini heart-attack when the freckled male had suddenly 'dropped dead' while in the middle of a conversation and eating for the first time.
My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard and I'm like 'it's better than yours
Damn right, it's better than yours
I could teach you, but I'd have to charge'
Marco reached for his cell as the ringtone screamed through the air of the room, a scowl making its way onto his features. "I thought I told Ace not to mess with my phone." He flips the small phone open. "What?"
"Wow, somebody's in a bad mood."
"I don't like it when people mess with my phone," Marco grit out. He meant it, too. The only thing that irked him more was when people messed with his computer. That… that was absolutely forbidden. The last person who did that, Haruta, was buried in paperwork for three months, got no time off, and had to wear a shirt that said 'I will not disobey Marco's orders again, lest I want to be his bitch for the rest of my life.'
Needless to say, nobody got within fifty feet of Marco's computer again.
"Sheesh, fine. I'll change the ringtone. Anyway, wanna come with me to mall? I have some shopping to do and it's always more fun with a friend."
"Alright. Not like I have anything better to do."
"Wow, just make me feel so special."
"Time?"
"Two o'clock?"
"I can only stay for an hour."
"It won't take that long. See you soon!"
Hanging up, Marco gave a light chuckle. "I don't believe there's anyone else in the world quite like that kid."
"That is where you are wrong; there's his little brother and that kid named Shuraiya."
"One, Luffy is not like Ace because he is nowhere near as intellectual as his older brother. Two– you're not even listening, are you."
"I'm sorry, did you say something?"
"You know, sometimes, I just wanna murder you."
Thatch smirked. "I love you too, Marco."
Marco knew there was a reason he never went to the mall anymore. It was loud, overcrowded, overrated, over priced, and it stunk. Badly. It reeked of teenage hormones and pompous rich bitches.
Oh yeah, this was definitely a place Marco didn't like to be.
"I'm leaving." The blond turned to leave but the freckled male hugged his arm, effectively stopping the other male… for the moment.
"Aw, come on, Marco. It's not that bad. We haven't even been in here for ten seconds!"
"Actually, we've been here for about fifteen point three seconds. And, yes, it is that bad. It would be logical to leave before I catch an STD by just walking through the crowds of hormonal and unhygienic teens."
"It would be logical? Okay, seriously, you've been watching too much ST."
"As Thatch would say, "It is impossible to watch too much ST.""
"Whatever, Mr. Spock. Now come on. I have to go find a phone case, new headphones, a scalpel, some thick cloth gloves, and a lollipop. Yes, I just said lollipop, don't look at me like that." The blond rolled his eyes but smirked anyway, following the hyped male through the crowded building almost happily.
After buying the things Ace needed to buy and getting chased out of a few stores because of said person's idiocy, the two males stood outside the mall's doors; one licking a giant, multicolored lollipop, and the other sipping on a cup of hot chocolate– er, 'coffee'.
"Oh, I almost forgot. Let me see your phone. I have to change the ringtone." Marco gladly gave his phone to Ace and after forty-five seconds retrieved his cell back. "So have you heard about the deaths lately?"
"Kind of hard not to," said Marco, taking another small sip of his 'coffee'. The hot cup warmed his gloved hands nicely as the cold winds of the approaching winter blew gently around them. Ace gave a light shiver, pulling his flannel closer to his form. "It's all over the news and it's been making headlines in the papers."
"I think I find it morbidly fascinating in a way. I mean, a fire that leaves no traces behind except burnt flesh? How bizarre is that?"
"Very bizarre indeed." Taking a quick glance at the time, the blond furrowed his brows. "I'm late. Sorry Ace but I gotta go. I'll see you later."
"See ya, Marco. Que le guide de lumière qui brille et vous protéger." (May the shining light guide and protect you)
Marco rolled his eyes. "Et vous guider ainsi." (And it guide you as well)
*If you know how to speak/read Greek, the last sentence of this short paragraph is going to be a spoiler, so heads up!*
He didn't know where he was or how he got there exactly, but what he did know was that his world was alight with raw pain. Torn ligaments flared with hot pain with every move and the lacerations continued to slowly seep dark red plasma. The blindfold around his eyes kept him in the dark as to what his surroundings were like or who his attacker was or how serious his injures looked, but it did not impair his ability to hear.
Over the sound of his heavy breathing, he could hear a plane pass overhead, not closely, but it still told him that they were somewhere near an airport. Occasionally he could hear a car or two pass within an hour. That meant the area was abandoned or hardly used at all. The way his screams had echoed earlier let him know that he was in a large room. A warehouse, maybe. That helped narrow it down a lot. There were only two places in the area that could be described where he was being held. One was by the industrial area ten miles away from the main city, and the other place was—
The door opened.
His assailant was back.
He stilled, holding his breath as he listened to every movement the stranger made. His heartbeat pounded in his ears and he couldn't help but feel his hands shake with anxiety. There was a moment of deafening silence; a time of stilled air that held enough tension that a knife would not have been able to even scratch it.
Then there was a mouth right next to his ear. His torturer whispered a single sentence. Though it was barely even audible, the man's eyes widened with fear before the cold edge of a blade ran along the side of his body. He screamed though he knew it wouldn't help. And as more and more pain invaded his body, his attacker's sentence repeatedly echoed in his mind.
"Ta mátia enós foínika epikalesteí gia to thánato."
Marco scowled as he stared at the newspaper's headline. Apparently another body had been discovered late last night, burnt to a crisp without any clues. Kidnap, torture, burn; a perfect repeating pattern. 'How long before they finally catch this killer?' He tossed the item back onto the newsstand, a touch of vexation in the action. He felt a seed of revulsion growing within his mind and he gave a silent curse, shoving his hands into his jacket's pockets.
The cold wind of the ever approaching winter bit at his skin and he gave the smallest of shivers as he focused on the white puff of air that appeared every time he let out a breath. Soon the snow would start to fall, possibly in less than a month.
He thought about what to do, how he could pass the time. There was nothing interesting happening in the city and he had no plans made for the day with any of his family members. "Well," he said to himself as he focused his attention to what was straight ahead, "I guess I can always go home and watch a little television until Thatch decides to break into my house."
A smile touched his features. Yes, that sounded like a plan.
Well, okay, so maybe Thatch hadn't shown up to break into his house like Marco thought he would. Which was odd because, well, Thatch always decided to bother the blond at least once a day. Marco couldn't help but fidget nervously as he sat on his couch, the lit fireplace off to the side radiating a comfortable barrier of heat; keeping the cold tendrils of early winter at bay with magnificent ease. He silently wondered if Thatch was alright. The male had a bad habit of finding trouble, something the brunette and Ace shared in common.
His phone vibrated. A text. It was from Thatch.
Message: Thatch
Hey, sorry I didn't break into your house yet (Marco couldn't help but roll his eyes and gave a relieved smirk) but I forgot I had some serious errands to run. Tell you all about it later. Gotta go pay a bill. See ya later, lazy eyes!
"Tch. Lazy eyes? Wow, real creative Thatch." His phone vibrated again and he looked down at the message.
Message: Thatch
Oh P.S. If you're bored and sitting at home watching T.V., I suggest giving Ace a call. Or text. Whatever. He's got nothing to do and his brother's friends are driving him up the damn wall. Seriously. Give him a call/text/whatever. Liek, NAO.
He had a feeling that Ace was texting – more like pleading – with Thatch to save him from his brother's okama friends. And when Ace pleaded, he usually sent, like, seventy messages a minute. …Okay, so maybe that was a little exaggeration. But the point was Ace texted a lot when he wanted help. Marco smirked and started to text his reply.
Message: Marco
Oh? Feeling annoyed? I didn't think it was possible for the almighty idiot Thatch to get irked.
Message: Thatch
Shut it. (¬_¬)"
He chuckled. Oh yes, he loved to see a vexed Thatch. It always made his day. He sent Ace a quick message, saying he heard his dilemma and wondered if he wanted to come over for a visit. He immediately got an answer.
Message: Ace
OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU MARCO THANK YOU SO MUCH ILL BE OVER IN TEN MINUTES. THANK YOU SO SO SO SO MUCH. I LOVE YOU I PROMISE I WONT PULL ANYMORE PRANKS ON YOU FOR THE REST OF THE MONTH AND ILL HELP YOU DO SOME OF THE PAPERWORK THATS BEEN SITTING ON YOUR DESK.
Well well well. Looks like this was definitely turning out in Marco's favor… so far. Ace arrived in a record of eight minutes and forty-two seconds. The second Marco opened the door, Ace pulled him into one of the shortest and tightest embraces Marco had ever experienced. "You are my hero. Now let's go that tackle that pile of paperwork."
Four Hours Later
Ace plopped down onto the couch, a cold glass root beer bottle in his hand. Unscrewing the lid, he took a big swig. "Oh yeah, that hit the spot."
"Thank you for helping with the paperwork," Marco thanked, taking a seat in his recliner; a cold bottle of root bear in his hand as well. It was nice knowing all that work was finally cleared off his desk. Ace waved it aside.
"Nah, it's the least I could do. My brother's friends can drive me up the wall sometimes. Anyway, what were you doing before all this?"
"Watching t.v," Marco answered. "Nothing very exciting. By the way, the other day you said you had to buy a scalpel… Why did you need one of those?"
Ace winked at him. "It's a secret~"
Marco shrugged the answer off and rolled his eyes. "Whatever then."
"Well, I gotta get going. I have a few loose ends to tie up today." Ace stood up and stretched, his back and shoulders popping and cracking. Oh yeah, that felt good. "I guess I'll see you around then?"
"Yeah, I guess so." Marco, too, stood, and walked Ace over to the door. They had spent the last two hours rotating between talking and watching Just For Laughs. They got a few good laughs from the show. "Take care, yeah? And don't go getting yourself into trouble."
"But where's the fun in that?" Ace smirked, opening the door and exiting the house. Marco gave him the look, and he raised his hands. "Fine, fine, I won't go getting into trouble. I'll just cause it instead. See ya, Marco!" Ace left before Marco could scold him into not causing trouble. The blond frowned at first but couldn't hold it for long, giving it up for a smirk. That was Ace for ya. He closed the door and gave a sigh. He had nothing to do once more.
He wondered once more why the younger male would need a scalpel of all things, but quickly dismissed it. Ace was a weird male. He walked to the kitchen and made a cup of coffee, taking a seat at the kitchen table while he drank it. He rested his head in his hand. An ant crawled across the table, searching for any food it could find and take back to its nest. The blond watched it with mild fascination for several moments before the boredom overtook his features. Then, without warning, he squished the ant beneath his finger. Lifting his finger, he looked at what remained of the ant's body before flicking it to the side.
The poor little ant never knew what hit him.
"Another body was found last night," Thatch mumbled, flipping through the newspaper. He flicked the ashes from his cigarette into the ashtray by his side before retuning it to his mouth. "No accelerant they know of was used, but it burnt the body so fast… Just who the hell is this guy?"
Nugget, biscuit
Nugget in a biscuit
DIP IT ALL IN MASHED POTATOES!
Dip it all in mashed potatoes
Then dip the mashed potato covered chicken nugget biscuit in the barbecue sauce
MMM!
Yum, yum, give me!
Thatch blinked when the song screamed through the air, knowing full well that wasn't his phone ringing. He leaned his chair back until he was looking into the living room where he saw a small rectangle vibrating on the coffee table. 'Huh, Marco forgot his phone here.'
Getting up, he walked over and answered the phone, but not in time. One missed call: Ace the phone's screen said. 'Well, Ace did say he was going to change Marco's ringtone again…'
Take a second to look AWESOME
Time to go, walk in slow motion so you still look awesome
Guard just saw you and he's gonna shoot
But don't mind him, just keep looking awesome
That shadow will take care of him
Guard says "stop!"
Just kill him with your awesome
Thatch ran back into the kitchen and answered his phone. "Ace?"
"Thatch! Marco isn't answering his phone."
"That's because he left his phone here when he stopped by an hour or so ago. Anyway, what's up? You sound almost out of breath."
"Yeah, I found out something important. I know where the killer is taking his victims to so he can torture and burn them. I also know what kind of fire he's been using."
"Holy shit," Thatch breathed. "Where is it? Where are you?"
"He's been using one of the empty warehouses, Thatch. As for the fire, it's– Huh? What–" Thatch heard something hard hit something flesh and the sound of the phone dropping to the ground. Thatch's blood froze in his veins.
"Ace…?" He received no answer. "A-Ace? Ace! Ace, please, answer me, please…" No response. "Oh God, no. No, this isn't happening." He didn't hang up the phone. Instead, he ran to the other room and grabbed Marco's phone, wasting no time to dial 911. Ace had said they were using an empty warehouse, but there were so many empty warehouses in the city. At least the police could track Ace's phone as long as it was still on the line.
He also had to call and let the others know what happened. 'I'll call them after I'm done talking to 911.' Marco and Whitebeard were going to freak out, but they had the right to know. Ace, after all, was family.
"He's been using one of the empty warehouses, Thatch."
The words echoed in Thatch's mind and he thought hard on just what Ace had meant. "Empty warehouses… Wait, he couldn't mean…!"
"911, what is your emergency?"
Ace gave a groan as he slowly regained consciousness. The back of his head hurt. "Ow… What the…?" He went to feel the back of his head but his hand refused to move. He tried again, and realization dawned on him. His wrists were restrained. The serial killer that was terrorizing the city had him. Marco's words echoed in his mind, "And don't go getting yourself into trouble."
This didn't count as trouble. This counted as a serious, life threatening situation.
Something clattered behind him and he froze, forcing his heart to slow down. He tried to turn his head to see who the killer was, but his head couldn't turn far enough. "Who are you?" He didn't get an answer, and Ace didn't push. The last thing he wanted to do was antagonize his capturer. This, though, was most likely how he was going to die, at the hands of the most prolific serial killer the city had seen in twenty years.
Honestly, death by torture at the hands of a killer never crossed Ace's mind once. He thought, if anything, it would be a death by complete accident. Like, getting hit by a bus because he didn't look both ways before crossing, or a piano would fall on him while he was walking down the street. Or, at least, he thought his narcolepsy would play a part in his death. Like falling asleep while crossing a busy intersection, or falling asleep while walking down a flight of stairs.
The person behind Ace continued to move several small objects around. The little clinks and clatters were the only sound in the air and Ace couldn't help feel his muscles begin to cramp up from the tension in them. He had no idea what to expect. Well, he did know to expect two things: pain…and death. Ace tried to look behind once more to catch a look at his soon-to-be killer. He couldn't see the man's face, but he did see a gloved hand holding a scalpel come into his view.
A very sharp scalpel.
And then the man spoke. His voice was quiet, nearly a whisper, but it held such a deep sorrow to it. Like all of his sadness and misery and agony were put into that one sentence. However, though, it wasn't the amount of sadness in the voice that made Ace's eyes widen. No, it was what the voice said.
"Ta mátia enós foínika epikalesteí gia to thánato."
The words echoed in Ace's mind, and the sentence suddenly began to replay itself in other languages he had heard the saying in:
In Arabic it was: عيون طائر الفينيق ندافع عن الموت
Russian: Glaza feniksa sudit'sya za smert'
Hindi: Ēka phīniksa kī ām̐khōṁ mauta kē li'ē vakālata
French: Les yeux d'un phénix plaident pour la mort
Afrikaans: Die oë van 'n feniks pleit vir die dood
Bosnian: Oči feniks se izjasni za smrt
Italian: Gli occhi di una fenice supplicano per la morte
All them translated to the same. damn. thing. Ace's voice trembled as he translated the Greek words into English, cold chills running down his spine. "The eyes of a phoenix plead for death…" And Ace felt his heart shatter. "But why…?" The man did not answer, and Ace felt tears begin to swell in his eyes. "I don't u-understand…"
Marco remained silent as he watched the tears run down Ace's cheeks and into his hairline near his ears.
The sheer sense of betrayal that rang through Ace is what caused the first two tears to fall. Then the anger and confusion took over. The tears quickly disappeared, but those gray eyes remained glossy; even when they were filled with several deep emotions. "Why?! Why?! I don't understand, why would you do this, Marco?! Answer me!"
"…I don't know why," was the quiet response, and Ace's throat constricted. With that much sorrow in his words, Ace almost couldn't recognize the voice. "I don't know why, Ace. It just…started one day. I couldn't stop myself. It's like an addictive bad habit; you get the urge and you go through with it, but feel ashamed about it afterwards and wonder why you did it, why you didn't stop. And the answer is very clear: because once you start, you know you can't stop. This urge, it just takes over. I have absolutely no control over myself. I've been trying to leave some kind of clue so the police would discover it was me and arrest me and stop me from killing."
"But the blue fire you've been using has been erasing any clues you try to leave behind," Ace summed up. "Why didn't you just turn yourself in?"
"The side of me that gets these urges, it stops me from doing that. I…I just want it all to end." Marco lowered his head, his azure eyes filled with despair as he looked down at his hand with a deep longing. "Oculi a phoenix, intercede pro more…"
"And thanks to you, Ace, my wish can finally come true." Ace went to ask what he meant, desperate to know what was going through the blond's head, when he heard a large metal door slide open in the distance. Someone else was in the warehouse. Marco took his place next to Ace's side and the freckled male could see the emotions in the azure of eyes of his brother. 'So much sorrow… How did we not notice it before? How had he hidden so much emotions for so long…?' The scalpel was still in the blond's hand, but Ace didn't feel threatened at all. No, he felt like he was about to lose one of the most important people in his life. "Thank you, Ace. For everything you've done. Thank you for granting my wish." Footsteps were getting closer to the room they were in. "Tell everyone I'm sorry, and that I never meant to cause them any harm. Tell them…I said thank you. For everything."
The door to the room opened and Ace saw the barrels of six guns pointed at Marco. And suddenly, he understood Marco's wish was. "Goodbye, Ace." His eyes widened, and he twisted and bucked as he desperately tried to get out of his restraints.
"No, Marco! Please, don't–!"
Marco raised the scalpel before the police had the time to tell him to drop the weapon. Marco looked at him with those sad azure eyes…and smiled. And just as he was bringing down the scalpel towards Ace's chest, the guns went off. Ace could only watch in horror as his brother's body was riddled with bullets. "Marco!"
The eyes of a phoenix plead for death.
The smile never left Marco's face as he fell to the ground. Tears were running down Ace's cheeks again as he called out his brother's name over and over. He watched as the life faded from those azure eyes until they were nothing but dull orbs. And still that smile stayed there. The police were working on the restraints that held Ace down, telling him it was okay; that everything would alright and that he was safe now. But Ace didn't listen to them, didn't look at them. His eyes were solely focused on Marco.
Thank you, Ace. For everything.
He was escorted outside by a police officer he recognized as Smoker. His eyes remained on the ground with a dazed look. Marco was the killer, and now he was gone forever. He heard several people call his name and he slowly looked up to see Thatch, Whitebeard, and Luffy waiting for him by the ambulance. Luffy's eyes widened and he momentarily wondered why before he caught the color red in the corner of his eye. Bringing his hand up to his face, he discovered it was flecked and spattered with blood. Marco's blood. His shirt was in the same state. It made his stomach turn.
"Oh my God. Ace, are you alright?" Thatch was instantly by his side as Luffy flung himself at his brother, hugging him tightly. But Ace didn't answer him, and Thatch grew even more worried. "Ace?" Whitebeard walked up next to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. It seemed to break Ace out of his daze and he looked at Thatch with glassy eyes, wrapping his arms around Luffy to hug him back.
"I…I don't know…"
"We've been trying to find Marco to let him know what was going on, but we couldn't find or get ahold of him at all." Ace choked down a sob, and Whitebeard wanted to do nothing more than pull him into a hug and tell him everything would okay.
"M-Marco…isn't…" Out from the warehouse, paramedics brought out a body in a body bag on a gurney. The sight made Ace choke on another sob as fresh tears ran down his cheeks. "Marco w-won't be coming home t-tonight."
Ace could practically hear Thatch and Whitebeard's hearts shatter at his words.
And as he watched the gurney be loaded into another ambulance, Ace felt the words slip out of his mouth like water. "Gli occhi di una fenice supplicano per la morte… The eyes of a phoenix plead for death."
Thank you for granting my wish.
Typical enough for me that I burn inside in agony
What power will enable me to bury my vision?
The horror coming over me as I learn to hide the agony
To make a final remedy to close the door once and for all
It seems the whole experience is terrible and crippling
In a world that I don't want to know, with a message I never want to send
Don't tell me I cannot go with a wound that refuses to mend
To be free from all of this I want you to quicken my end
Don't say that it isn't so, I'm on a path that you'll never comprehend!
Set me free from all of this, I need you to quicken my end
A/N: Came up with idea July 13th 2013, didn't start writing it until October 13th 2013, finally finished it September 1st 2014, completed editing it October 30th 2014, uploaded it October 31st 2014, published it November 3rd. I wanted to upload it for last Halloween but as you can see, it never was finished on time.
Would you guys believe that I wrote that entire ending scene (with Ace finding it was Marco to the end) while listening to the song Witch Doctor by Carton? XD And guess who had to go to therapy after the whole event~? You guessed Ace? Correct! Sorry for the horrible writing and lame plot. Just wanted to upload something different for Halloween. And in this story, blue fire is a very rare thing and it works much differently than it does in real life. Only experts in thermodynamics and such know about it and how to create it.
Well, hope you guys sorta liked it! Please leave a review? Please? Have a great morning/afternoon/evening! Take care!
Your ice elemental,
~»roo the psycho«