It wasn't fair.
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't fair!
She punctuated each thought with a hack from her machete. Why did she have to suffer like this? Why just her? It wasn't fair!
She would make them suffer, too.
It was dark, the middle of the night, and she was in a dim alleyway. The shadows pressed in around her; the air felt oppressive and stifling. And it stank of blood and urine.
The gun she had used to kill the man sat at her feet. Instead she now favoured the blade, and was using it to hack his leg off. Blood flew up on the recoil, joining the other droplets painting her face in macabre tattoos of red.
Again she hit.
Again.
Again!
A noise in the distance. Her head came up, listening. Sirens. Sirens!
Grabbing her gun, she turned and fled, leaving the dismembered body behind. On the wall above the body, thin tendrils of blood slowly trickled down the plaster from the letter written there:
λ
Asbel wanted to vomit. If the last crime scene has been bad, this one...this one was the stuff of nightmares in comparison. He felt the urge to run home to his daughter and never look back.
"This is the freshest we've ever seen a scene." Pascal's face was grim, none of the playfulness that was so common to her present in her tone. "Makes me wonder how much we missed the perp by."
"How..." Oh, spirits, he felt nauseous, "how fresh?" He was trying so hard not to look. There were body parts just laying there, and...!
"Body's still warm."
He turned to the wall, not the bloodied one thankfully, and rested one palm on it, head bowed as he fought the bile in his throat. Oh, Spirits, if they had been just a little faster...!
"Don't think like that, Asbel. We were called because of the gunshot. He was dead when the call came in."
"Hu's right. Killed execution style, same as all the others. Judging by the blood pattern, I'd say definitely before the dismemberment."
"This conversation is not helping," he muttered.
"No, but it is called work." Hubert's tone softened. "If you need to sit down, Brother, there's no shame in that."
"I...think I will."
Heading to his car, Asbel pulled the door opened and sat down. He could not believe how bad the crime scenes were getting. And...why? Why was it suddenly getting to be so much worse? He was not certain he could stomach it.
He sat in silent contemplation for several minutes, until Hubert's voice intruded upon his thoughts. "Asbel, you need to come see this."
Cautiously, he stepped back out, following his brother to the body once more. It had been moved slightly, revealing a pool of blood and urine...and a pair of prescription glasses.
"Richard doesn't wear glasses," Asbel insisted immediately. Hubert sighed.
"Not that we know of, no. This could be a trick to throw us off...but we also cannot ignore that it might not be," Hubert continued before Asbel could protest. "It might simply be carelessness from fleeing the scene too quickly. Or, it might also be an imitator. That mark is back."
"We got an impression of the footprints, Pascal," one of the researches said, hurrying over.
"Good, get 'em back to the lab. We got a long night ahead of us, boys!"
"Hubert?" Asbel asked, glancing at his brother.
"Let's leave the rest to forensics. We have enough to go over to keep us busy until then."
Without a backward glance, Asbel followed his brother back to the squad car. It was going to be a long night. Nothing new, there.
"Asbel, Sweetie? What are you doing here?"
His head came up quickly as Asbel was startled awake by his mother's voice. Blinking sleep from his eyes, he looked down at the table in front of him, where his case notes were scattered all over.
"Oh, uh...I wanted to be here to take Sophie to school. I've been," he paused to yawn, "so busy lately. I miss her."
Kerri smiled. "How about you two have breakfast together, then I'll take her while you nap."
"...okay, Mom," he relented after only a moment of thought. He was tired. "I'll go get her up."
Breakfast was a pleasant affair, the presence of his daughter lifting some of the weight the past few hours had left on Asbel's shoulders. Once they had eaten, he did as promised and laid down on the sofa, dozing off until noon, when Kerri woke him for lunch. Then, it was back to work.
He did not last long. The heavy material was haunting on his mind, and he could not stop thinking about the strange encounter with Richard the day before, either. Before long, he wandered away, finding himself drawn to the old photo albums. Finding the one he sought, he sat down, cross-legged on the floor, and opened it.
Most of the photos were of himself and Hubert as children. The first day of school, Christmas morning, birthdays...but there, in the book near the back, a few that had been taken at summer camp that year.
The very first photo was himself and Hubert, standing by the entrance. A few photos in, and he came across one he was looking for. He was standing by the pool, wearing his uniform but soaked to the skin. To his left, a young Richard stood, clearly fighting back a laugh. He recalled the incident well. He had been walking by the pool when he had seen what he thought was another kid fall in. He had run inside and jumped into the pool without a second thought...only to discover that the splash he had seen was caused by a pool toy being blown into it.
Richard had laughed until he nearly cried.
After that photo, more came. One of them learning to draw bows, another of them after a food fight had broken out in the mess hall, still another of them at the campfire, roasting marshmallows.
"What are you looking at?"
He looked over, greeting his mother with a warm, if tired, smile. "Just some old pictures."
Kerri peered over his shoulder, a small smile on her lips. "I remember that boy. He was all you talked about after you two came home. Honestly, you were so excited about him, your father feared you were gay."
Asbel sputtered. "M-mom!"
"Well, you were very...enthusiastic about him, dear. Frankly, I didn't share your father's doubts."
"You didn't?"
"I was quite certain."
He sputtered again. "Mom!"
"Tell me I'm wrong."
He had to admit...it was true. He had had quite the crush on Richard back at the camp, and for quite a while after. It had faded with time, but he still found the other man more attractive than was reasonable.
"Well, I don't...maybe you're..." He trailed off, sighing. "Okay, fine. But if you knew, why…?"
"You seemed happy with Cheria, so I saw no reason to bring it up." She smiled sadly, staring down at the photograph. "Though I'm relieved your father kept you two apart. That boy is..."
Asbel sighed. "I know. Hubert says the same thing. But I can't believe it. Not Richard. He was so..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "That killer isn't him, Mom. I know it's not."
Kerri was silent for a long moment, but finally she smiled at him. "Okay, Asbel. If you're so certain, I'll believe that maybe it's not. But don't let your feelings blind you either. That's my advice as your mother."
He let a weak smile grace his lips. Then he chuckled softly.
"You really knew all along?"
"Of course. A mother watches her children, and you often looked at boys like you did girls. Between that and your infatuation with Richard, I was pretty sure."
"You don't mind?"
"Of course not, Asbel, you're my son and I love you no matter what."
"I love you too, Mom," he said, reaching up to hug her. It was willingly returned, and somehow he felt just a little bit better.
"We've been workin' too hard!"
"Pascal, that is hardly..."
"No way, Hu. We've all been slavin' away, and it's finally the weekend! I vote we hit the town tonight. It's Saturday night. Let's go!"
Asbel chuckled, setting aside his paperwork. "I'm going to have to agree, Hubert. Let's go out." It had been a long week, and next week promised to be worse. They deserved a few drinks and some dancing.
"Oh, very well."
"Yahoo! Ravenwood, tonight at eight, meet us there, Asbel."
"I'll be there," he agreed, "just let me drop Sophie off with mom and get ready."
They parted ways a short time later, and Asbel hurriedly got ready. He collected Sophie from her friend's house, dropped her off at his mother's, then dressed. It was nice to look forward to a night out with his brother and sister-in-law.
Ravenwood was a cozy place. The building was typically kept dim, with redwood furniture, carved in a rugged style. It was run by a middle-aged man, who had opened it after retiring from the military. A laid-back fellow, he greeted Asbel with a wave.
"Haven't seen you in a while, Kid."
"Yeah, the case has been keeping us pretty busy, Raven," he said, dropping into a stool at the bar. A glass of brandy appeared before him without comment. "I guess Hubert and Pascal aren't here yet?"
"Haven't seen 'em. That's a first."
Asbel huffed at the teasing. "I can be on time!"
"Nobody's sayin' ya can't," Raven retorted with a friendly wink, "just that ya typically aren't."
He scowled, taking a sip of his drink. As he did so, the door behind him jingled, and he looked up, expecting to see his family. It was not them, however the man was still familiar. Rugged blond hair, with a thin line of facial hair down hia jaw and chin.
"You're...!" he said, jumping up.
The man, Malik if Asbel remembered his name correctly, stared at him for a long moment. Then he turned and headed back out the door.
Asbel was on his way to the door before he had a chance to think it over.
"Raven! Tell my brother I'm sorry, but I had to run. Put the drink on my tab!" He did not hear the response, if there was any, because he was already out the door.
The blond man waited a few feet away, holding open the door to a glossy, black limo. Asbel hesitated, suddenly feeling nervous about his decision to follow the man out here.
He tamped down on it and strode to the limo. This man was Richard's bodyguard, and if he really trusted Richard, as he claimed, this would not be an issue.
He got in...and there was Richard, seated across from him and dressed in finery Asbel could never hope to afford. An expensive black suit with a blue tie and immaculate white dress shirt, accented by a gold watch and shiny shoes, none of which AsbeL could ever hope to even name a brand for, never mind afford. His talk with his mother two days before crept into his mind, and a soft blush crept up his neck.
Richard really did look good. His own black dress pants and blue shirt looked downright tacky in comparison.
"Asbel, I apologise for stopping by so abruptly," Richard said, meeting his gaze calmly. "However, I..."
Asbel sat down across from him, trying and failing to ignore the posh interior of the vehicle as he did so. "Richard?" he prompted gently.
"I have been thinking about your offer, and...I wish to accept it, on some conditions."
Asbel's eyes widened, but he hurriedly nodded. "What are they?"
"You tell no one. Your brother and...coworkers are wary of me. It would look badly on both of us. I will also keep silent. Secondly, you ask me nothing about my...profession. In turn, I will ask you nothing about yours. Lastly, we avoid unnecessary attachment. This may not work out, and I wish for that to be kept in mind."
"Deal," he said immediately. Those terms seemed more than reasonable.
Richard looked surprised for a moment, though Asbel could not fathom why, but the blond quickly recovered. A hand was extended, and he shook it readily.
"So...uh, I've never had a professional...friendship before," he said awkwardly, scratching at his head. "What do we do from here?"
Richard's lips quirked in a faint smile. "We go out."