Chapter 64
Sicut mater, ita et filia eius
17 years ago:
There was a deluge of rain from the heavens. While the skies crowded with pregnant clouds, Sharon glanced at John anxiously. The ceremony was about to take place. Dressed in black suits and dresses for the occasion, Sharon studied her daughter. She was positively sulking. With arms folded, she seemed to be steaming away.
"I thought you said you spoke with her," Sharon whispered to her husband.
"I did," he said as they waited under an awning. Having missed her daughter's performance a day earlier, Sharon hoped to smooth things over with her before the ceremony in an hour. A trip to the ice cream parlor usually does the trick, but not today.
"That clearly didn't work," Sharon chided, and John squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.
"She'll get over it," he tried, but Sharon wasn't convinced. Something wasn't right. Mother's instincts, you might say. Chris wasn't just angry. She appeared…
Looking downcast at the pavements, seemingly far away, the girl fiddled with her frilly dress. "Chris?" Sharon prodded gently. "Chris, what's wrong?"
Sharon made a last-ditch attempt to reach the girl, but she turned away. Worried, Sharon didn't care about the rain dripping down her dress as she squatted in front of her daughter.
"Chris…please, talk to me."
With lips trembling, the girl who resembled Sharon clenches her fists. "It wouldn't matter what I say," she snapped, glancing at her father.
"John?" Sharon raised a brow at her husband, confused about what was happening.
"Chris," John sighed, "what you've been told is a lie. We are your parents; you should trust us..."
"No!" Chris shouted. She had never done anything like it before. There was a mixture of anger and fear on the girl's face, and she appeared weary.
"What is going on?" Sharon asked.
"Nothing of importance," John huffs, giving his daughter a warning. "Chris is just acting up because—"
"It is!" Chris interrupts. When Sharon reached out to touch her, she was pushed away. "You don't listen! Have you heard the rumors? My friends are scared of me! I get called all kinds of names! It's obvious, Mom! Dad!" she protested, "He's crazy! The way Grandpa is acting isn't right!"
Sharon's expression darkened as she paused, feeling like she had been slapped in the face. "How could you say that?" she snapped, and her daughter shrunk back. "Your grandpa loves you. There is nothing that he has not given you. We have as well. How could you believe those that do not understand?"
"Mom, this is the reason why I can't talk to you! You're always defending him! Please listen to me for once!" Chris pleaded, but Sharon would have no more of it. The whole time, she had thought her daughter was upset because Sharon couldn't attend the play. Instead, she found a disgruntled child who questioned their beliefs. The very foundations that had supported her lifestyle.
"I won't hear any more of it," Sharon chided, and Chris grabbed her. Desperation follows anger. "Mom, Dad…you know I'm right! Grandpa has gone off the rails! Aunt Elena said—"
It was the last draw. Sharon slaps her daughter across the face, and Chris stares at her wide-eyed. It was Sharon's first time raising her hand. She was assaulted by guilt, but the anger she felt toward her daughter overtook everything else. John was right. Elena that harlot had poisoned her child with lies. After this—she'll have a talk with that woman.
"You will attend the ceremony," Sharon ordered, and Chris put a hand on her swollen cheek, looking dismayed at her parents. "Your grandfather has sacrificed much to achieve his goals, so I expect absolute obedience."
"Mom—" Chris protested, but John seized hold of their daughter while glaring at her.
"That's it, Chris," he declared, and their daughter slumped.
As the hour approached, John raised a red umbrella over her head, gesturing for Chris to follow. Despite her fear, the girl shuffled forward reluctantly under the awning.
"I've made it worse, haven't I?" Sharon asked regretfully, and John squeezed her shoulder again.
"The discipline was much needed. We've been letting Chris get away with too much," John reassured her. "Don't worry. She'll understand after today."
Inhaling deeply, Sharon gazes at the encroaching white cathedral-like structure hidden in an alleyway. A group of black-clad followers greeted one another with friendly candor. Their high spirits are not dampened by the gloomy skies above.
"We will be free," John reminded her. Her grievance with her daughter was put aside as she greeted fellow worshippers through the crowd.
This was for the best. As they walked into the dim halls, she caught one last glimpse of Chris. Children and adults are separated by pews. There were deep shadows, candles flickering, and all eyes were on the stage, where their goddess and leader stood. Her adoptive father raised his hands in triumph.
She'll talk to her later. While raising her own hands, Sharon smiled at John, who hugged her tightly.
Today…was a day of celebration.
Present:
Uncertainty.
Shinichi wasn't accustomed to it. He always knew what to do and what the outcomes should be. Even when everything seemed lost, Shinichi always managed to find a way through. Point A to B was a simple concept—actions first, consequences later. Answers often came effortlessly to him, and like any miracle, he had the uncanny ability to make it alright.
A hero.
His peers had called him. Kudou Shinichi was a boy genius extraordinaire, famous, and an all-around success story. He would have lived a different life if he hadn't encountered them. That confidence of certainty shatters in a second.
And here he was. Uncertain of what the future may hold. Eyeing the oppressive being sitting opposite Mouri Kogoro's desk, Shinichi breathes deeply, trying not to show signs of weakness. With the curtains drawn behind and the lights of the detective's office turned off, the room was pitch black. Shinichi could barely make out the features of the one-eyed demon. Only a shadowy silhouette and the occasional glint of flashing teeth.
Shinichi was sure the man was grinning. He sits upright against the chair and raps his fingers against the table like a metronome, occasionally glancing at Kogoro Mouri, tied to the chair with a beady eye.
"Come on," he chuckled slowly, methodically, "we don't have all day."
Another series of loud bangs followed. The shockwaves rattled the office windows, and Shinichi clenched his fist. The explosions that occurred in the Beika district were not just a coincidence. Navigating this situation was dangerous. Their plan had no guarantees, but—
"I'm disappointed," Shinichi says, pulling out first a portable recorder, then a transparent pillbox from his pocket. "I thought that there was more to your objectives," Shinichi sneered, wrapping his hands around the capsule. "But I was mistaken."
At the sight of the familiar red-white drug, Rum's demur changes. The man reaches for the box, and Shinichi takes it back.
"Why are you so eager?" Shinichi taunts as a cold, penetrating eye bore into his. The room had an uneasy hush, like a dark cloud looming overhead.
"Don't test my patience, boy," Rum warned, drowning out any hope of escape. "Give me the drug," For the first time, Shinichi sees the mad persona behind a gentleman's mask. Bloodshot eyes, mouth open into an uncanny grin, flashing teeth like a hungry hyena.
Shinichi faced the man down with a calculated smirk, swallowing his apprehension.
"No."
Standing up, Rum grabbed his collar and shook him. Shinichi flinched from the sudden attack. Hot breath met skin as a one-eyed demon eyed him with repressed mirth. "It wasn't a request, boy," Rum growled, his voice dripping with venomous intent.
An aura of dread filled the air, and Shinichi clenched his fist over the pill box. In the face of unyielding evil, an objective becomes clear. His determination was fuelled by the faces of those he lost. In the depths, it radiated, and Shinichi reached out, grabbing Rum's collar with both hands.
"I said," Shinichi declares, "No."
There are cracks in the mask, cutting into the fine lines of a friendly smile. Cruelty and malice are apparent, a perpetual sneer that reveals a monstrous visage. Shinichi cries out as Rum shoves him back. As Shinichi landed on the seat, Rum grabbed his pistol. Immediately, the cold, icy tip of the weapon was pointed at his forehead.
"You think you've got everything figured out," Rum whispered. "You seem to think you can escape this situation, but..."
The one-eyed demon presses the weapon's tip harder into Shinichi's skin.
"You seem to forget," Rum shook his head. "This is my domain."
It happened so fast that Shinichi didn't have time to react. With a flick of his wrist, Rum aims the gun at Kogoro Mouri instead. Shinichi's eardrums were pierced by a sharp, piercing sound. The freshly fired pistol emitted smoke, and the detective shouted a warning at the man tied to the chair. Kogoro Mouri slumped over, blood gushing out. His left ear had been grazed by the bullet. Pulling back the slide of his pistol, Rum was ready to fire again.
"Stop!" Shinichi immediately stood before Kogoro Mouri, facing the demon with only one eye who was not averse to taking life.
"What happened to the confidence?" Rum taunted, "No longer the fearless detective, are we?"
"It is something you don't want to do," Shinichi snarled. "If anything happens to me, Oji-san, or anyone else, the pill-box holding the drug will implode, and you will have nothing!"
Rum remained still. With his pistol still aimed at Shinichi's forehead, the one-eyed man looks at him from head to toe, searching for his motives. Then, he releases the trigger and places the gun back on the table before settling back into his chair.
Hyde and Jekyll.
The malicious intensity of his outburst was replaced with the calm demur of a gentleman. It was slightly off-putting, and Shinichi was presented with the uncertainty of a monster.
"I am sorry," he said deliberately, exuding malice. "It seems that I've lost my temper. While I admit that shooting your acquaintances was not my intention, you must understand..."
His tightly pressed lips curled upward, exuding a sadistic nature as if every act were part of a master scheme to manipulate—control.
"You started it first."
Another series of blasts followed outside. It sounded closer. Shinichi remembered the small police box near Mouri's detective office. He thought of Kenji Masaru, the pleasant 10-year veteran policeman who worked there.
His oppressive presence blends seamlessly with the stench of gunpowder and blood. Waiting for his chance to strike, Rum lurked.
Uncertainty.
Again, Shinichi felt the pressure sink. There were choices to make, options he could choose. Tangents that might work, but—
Now was not the time.
He needed to stall Rum somehow.
He glances at Mouri Kogoro bound behind him and then at the trigger device in the one-eyed monster's chest pockets. Bombs were used by the organization's last remnants to launch a full-scale attack against the city's law enforcement. As a result, all aid becomes virtually impossible. It was clear that Shinichi was caught in his trap.
With the pill box raised, Shinichi glares at Rum, who studies him with malice and curiosity.
"The Miyanos you killed called it Frankenstein," he revealed the months of data he had gathered while researching a demon with one eye. The answers he thought he arrived at were swept clean with Vermouth's confession.
Her words echoed. Years of torment and madness, locked in a doctrine that preached rebirth and justice—lies. Motives formed by delusions of insanity.
There was no explaining this.
"You cannot reason with him," Akai had warned, the FBI agent giving his two cents. "All you can do is…"
"It was the answer you sought. The miracle you hoped to achieve. And I—" Shinichi reaches for the recorder he placed on the table, "was proof that you desired."
"I don't need your explanations, boy," Rum interrupts, "Philosophical etiquette serves no purpose. A simple yes or no would suffice."
Shinichi snorted. "Deals are made, Rum, with conditions. I hardly call this hostage situation…fair."
"An agreement? Since when were you under the impression that I came here to strike a deal?"
The man was right, of course. It was a gamble that Shinichi bargained on. An uncertainty that he had to make sure of. If he played his cards right, though...
"Oh," Shinichi tightens his grip on the box, "And here I thought you wanted an alliance."
The air shifts as a crooked smirk emerges on the one-eyed man's lips.
"Or was I wrong in my deductions?" Shinichi glared at the entity in front. A man of dualities. "The subtle clues you left behind, sending Vodka to communicate your message. We were led to your hometown. Every clue you purposely placed, you wanted us to discover your name," Shinichi smirked, "You wanted me to understand."
Rum remained silent. Light flickered in from the outside, struggling to penetrate the darkness, casting long shadows on the tiled floor. The worn clock beats on the solitary desk, ticking loudly, permeating every nook and cranny, creating a sense of unease.
"Confidence is the very nature," Rum started speaking in measured tones, "That gets one killed. "You are not wrong, but..." long, bony fingers moved with a grace that belied their ominous purpose, wrapping around the trigger near his chest. "Do tell me what I seek."
A setting sun casts an eerie glow on the one-eyed man's face through the closed curtains, emphasizing his widened smirk, the madness he couldn't hide.
As he sinks into the shadows, Shinichi's heart beats hard, matching the labored breaths of Mouri Kogoro. Ran's father was having difficulty managing his gun wound. Occasionally, he would take a sharp breath to relieve the intense pain.
"What exactly," Rum continued, "Do you understand."
His piercing gaze morphs into a serene smile. "I'm waiting," he whistled, "Detective."
While holding back a breath, Shinichi glanced into the perpetual monster's ruthless soul.
"In theory, the drug had succeeded. The ability to turn back time. Thus explains my current situation."
With a single phrase, the answers to this madness are revealed.
"Aberu Nakano," Shinichi wraps his finger around the recorder, "was just 12 years old when he murdered his brother, Kazuki Nakano."
Shinichi ignores the chilling gaze of an intangible abyss. "As the Nakano family was highly influential, the case was buried, and Aberu Nakano was placed in a mental institution. A plea of insanity spared him the maximum sentence, and he mysteriously disappeared after he was released."
"That does not answer my question," Rum interrupts, his eyes locked upon him, malevolence hidden beneath that repressed smile. "If you continue, I will have to retract my charity." His fingers were placed threateningly over the trigger button. It was not something Shinichi took lightly. Rum could have placed bombs anywhere in the office, and his suspicions increased when that demon's smile widened.
"Again, empty threats," Shinichi scoffs, "you can't kill me. I am a success, an experimental anomaly that you would be willing to keep alive no matter what. The goal lies with me. This alliance you're seeking, this agenda you're pushing, is your last desperate attempt to make me understand your cause. I'm sure you know this very well, Rum," Shinichi stares at the shapeless entity, "Leader of the Children of Ashiko, adopted father...of Sharon Vineyard."
After a deafening silence, shadows twist and writhe across crooked lips, and a shark-like eye reveals its malice. "Sharon is dead. She has been for 17 years."
"No," Shinichi said, pressing against the recorder. From his interview with Vermouth a week ago, he reveals secrets suppressed in a private ward.
"No," he repeats, as Rum glared at Shinichi, then at the recorder, "She is alive. Sharon is…alive."
Dark and ominous, his presence alone renders her immobile. Years of abuse coming back in waves threatened to pull her under. There was an ever-present odor of death thick in the air. He was injured as a result of his escape from the armored vehicle. Shiho could see blood flowing down his left temple and right arm. However, it did not make him any less frightening. A hulking frame and bulging muscles suggested his immense strength. Standing tall, he cast a shadow over her with his intimidating stature. Holding the gun tightly, he points it confidently at her. Shiho felt the familiar coolness, the ice-cold trepidation, as the metallic tip pressed in. His serpentine eyes studied her, and his twisted features contorted into a sinister grin revealing pearly white teeth that were almost jagged in appearance.
They had no chance.
"I have been waiting for this," he could barely control his excitement. His gaze pierces Shiho like poison as his voice echoes throughout the living room. "You thought you could escape?" Gin taunted, relishing in the fear he instilled.
"Leave her alone!"
It was Genta who spoke. The boy was being held back by the professor.
"Leave Haibara alone, you monster!" As the chubby boy faced down the man who haunted her all her life, Genta was trembling, tears streaming from his eyes, but he stood firm in his convictions.
"No," Shiho could barely speak under Gin's grip. "No, Kojima-kun, please don't—"
"Let Ai-chan go!" Ayumi joined in, spurred on by Genta's show of courage.
"Yes, you brute! Let her go!" Mitsuhiko stood with arms outstretched, shielding Ayumi from Gin's glare.
"The authorities will be here soon!" Ran finished. The raven-haired beauty locked eyes with Gin, refusing to let fear consume her. She quivered, but determination laced her words. "You won't have us! You won't get away with this!"
All was silent for a moment. Then Gin laughed deeply and loudly. It reverberated through the room, chipping away at Shiho's fragile spirits. Grabbing her throat, he lifts her, slamming her into the wall again.
"Stop! What are you doing? Let her go!" Ran shouted.
"Don't hurt her!" the professor screamed, holding back the terrified children.
A sharp pain assaulted her, and she was unable to breathe. As Gin reaches into her chest pocket, he tears it apart, grabbing the detective badge. Voices echoed from the device.
"Officer down!" an FBI agent screamed into the communication channels. The ambush that led to Gin's escape was still going on. According to Akai, Vodka crashed an armored bus into the armored van Gin was riding in, and a fight had broken out between Rum's forces and the FBI and PSB agencies.
It was meticulously planned. The date where Gin would be relocated must have been leaked. It was the only opportunity the organization had, and they took it.
"I repeat, we have an officer down. There are multiple unsubs in the forest. They have a sniper!" There were screams, messy shouts, and an explosion reverberated, causing further chaos.
"Maintain your positions!" Rei ordered, his command ringing through. "Do not let them trap you! Keep your position, don't go off on your own!"
"Clear the roads, hurry!" Akai was clearly frustrated, "Gin has escaped. We can't—"
"Our paths are blocked. We can't pass!" another officer informed them.
Throwing the detective badge on the ground, Gin smashes it with his feet, destroying it.
"Do you think we're incapable of learning?" he sneered, grinning maliciously as he pushed Shiho into the wall. With the pressure mounting, Shiho could only see the brimming fire burning within his eyes. Rage, anger, the never-ending inflection of a tumultuous storm. He was a fractured world that defied all reason.
A scream echoed from the depths, the void beckoned, and Shiho was thrown into the basement of a foreign house. Sarah Woods kneeled by the floor, tears running down her eyes furiously as she gaped despondently at her children, that had been shot and killed. The woman's dazed gaze wandered...and it lands on Shiho. There is a flash of regret, followed by an epiphany, anger, then...hatred. Her light snuff out as Gin presses the pistol over her forehead. "You should have kept your mouth shut."
A bullet through Sarah's skull, blood gushes from the exit wound as Shiho hears the recorded murder repeated in the box he stuffs her in. Sarah, George, Kelly, Martha, the Woods family morphing into Ayumi, Genta, Mitsuhiko, the professor...Ran. Her nightmares are becoming a reality. Gin laughed once more as she cried out. He squeezes down harder, and a sadistic grin appears as he turns to the professor, Ran, and the children.
"There is nowhere to run," menace laced his words, "The authorities you speak of are occupied."
Still holding Shiho by the throat, he walks over to the couch, switching on the television to watch a live news feed. A series of alerts were issued, warning people to stay away from the affected areas, displaying the scene of carnage all over Beika. Several vehicles were involved in a pileup following the crash of an oil tanker that exploded, blocking the highway.
In a coordinated terrorist attack, police offices, boxes, stations, and other local authorities handling emergencies were destroyed. Lockdowns were called across the state. The government and various law enforcement agencies are attempting to uncover the perpetrators of the crimes. Flashing across the screen was an ominous warning of a state emergency.
"Our regular program will be interrupted to bring you an urgent update. In response to the unexplained bombings in central Tokyo, a state of emergency has been declared. The situation has reached a critical point, and immediate action is necessary to ensure our residents' safety. We cannot identify the perpetrators behind the incident; however, based on information gathered from government agencies, we are certain that the attack is not over."
The anchor reported with concern etched in her features. Maintaining a degree of professionalism, she read the alerts urgently, "Residents must stay informed and follow the instructions and guidelines provided by the authorities. Everyone should remain indoors and avoid areas with an official state building. Additionally, we encourage citizens to remain calm and cooperate with emergency personnel should they come into contact with them. Our team will continue to provide you with the latest updates regarding the developing situation as information becomes available."
"There would be no assistance," Gin grinned as the reality of the situation sank in. Heart thudding in her chest, Shiho struggles to breathe. Her vision blurred. The ugly visage of the man was all she could see. "Do you think we will fall for your silly endeavor twice? Who do you think we are?"
This was too soon. They were not ready. The children weren't supposed to be here. She couldn't—
"There is nowhere left to go," Gin sneers, raising his gun in a warning, pointing it at the children, Ran, and the professor. "This game you play. This cat and mouse…it ends today."
Regarding the news, Ran quivers, hands clenched, fingers trembling, a manifestation of her inner turmoil.
Shiho barely had time to breathe as the silver-haired man slammed her against the coffee table, pinning her down—he pressed his elbow against her. The professor cried out Shiho's name, and the children screamed. Unable to hold back any longer, the old man launches himself forward.
"NO!" Shiho cried out. The professor has done the very thing Shinichi had warned him not to do. "Hakase!"
Gin drops Shiho. Lips curled into an ominous promise. Eyes glinting with an untamed excitement. He drew his weapon and pulled the trigger. The old man falls to the ground. Running over, the children screamed.
"Hakase! Hakase!" Ayumi screamed, crying as she crouched beside the old man.
"What did you do!" Genta barked at Gin while holding onto the professor's shoulder.
"Oh god, oh god," Mitsuhiko panicked, prodding the old man, his freckled face paling at the scene, "We need help! Ran-nee-chan! His…his…"
"Stay with him!" Ran stands before them, shielding them from a smoking gun.
Hakase…
Crimson stains the floor, seeping into the white-marbled tiles. Shiho watches helplessly, falling limp. The professor's once vibrant presence has been reduced to frailty. His once round, cheery face now bears the undeniable marks of—death. Eyes gleamed with vitality, now flickering, the fading embers of a diminishing flame.
"From today, your name will be Haibara Ai. Nice to meet you."
"Can I have more dessert?"
"I'm not that fat!"
"Don't stay up too late. You have school tomorrow."
"Are you ok? Here's a coffee without sugar. It'll perk you up. It's your favorite, isn't it?"
"Remember…this, will, and always be your home."
"Ai-kun."
"No," Shiho whispered, edging forward as a silver-haired beast laughed. "No, please…"
Lost in a haze, Shiho could barely decipher her own thoughts. Sorrow carved into her soul, settling into her bones—corroding her psyche. The enormity of what Gin had done crushed her spirit.
"Haven't I warned you?" Gin pulled back the slide and aimed the gun again. "That a storm was brewing." He grins, fingers taunting a trigger, "The agencies you stand behind would not be able to protect you."
"Are you prepared," he points it at the crying children. "To lose it all."
Taking hold of every fiber of her being, it drags her deeper into the abyss of despair. All light is obscured, and she sees the never-ending path of darkness.
There would be no end to this.
Upon hearing his laughter, the faces of those that she had doomed seeped into the very marrow of her bones, leaving a chilling emptiness in its wake.
Ryuu-san, Akemi…her parents, Daniel, Anne…Hakase.
The children's cries become muffled like it was coming through a watery grave. The blood seeping from the old man's body, dying her hands, legs, arms, body—red. It stains her, entangling into her very roots.
"Ai-chan," a voice broke through the reverie of pain. Somebody was calling to her. Peering up, she sees the gentle visage of a raven-haired beauty. Her shoulders square, her eyes narrowed with determination, the girl summons her courage. Rather than addressing Gin, who stared at her with morbid curiosity and amusement, Ran faced Shiho instead.
The children were still crowding around the professor, staring bug-eyed at their exchange. Their faces were stained with tears and terror as they gripped his limp body.
"Remember what you have to do," Ran continues, ignoring Gin's growing smirk.
"I can't…please Ran, take the children and run," Shiho cracks under the pressure. The professor's form came into view. "I don't want anyone else to—"
"Shiho," Ran held her gaze. Their fates hanging in a balance. The confrontation that was to happen was a battle of wills. "Remember why you're here." the girl smiles, her hands stained with blood, her eyes soaked with tears, yet, in the landscape of certain death, she stood defiant, like Shinichi, against her fate. "You're not alone anymore."
It echoed in her heart, spreading like wildfire, summoning a glimmer of defiance. Getting to her feet, she spread her arms, shielding the children, Ran, and the professor from Gin's weapon.
"It's me you want," Shiho steeling herself, every instinct telling her to escape, but she stood firm against the silver-haired beast, "Leave them out of this Gin."
For a second, Shiho spots it, his grip on control slipping momentarily. Then he caught himself. A flicker of malevolence flashed across his eyes, hinting at the coming repercussions she invoked.
"I see," he growled, and Shiho flinched. A suffocating reminder that he still possessed power over her. When he spots it, a perverse grin spreads across his lips, and his eyes gleam with satisfaction.
"Have you forgotten?" the sing-songy tone bringing about an ice-cold dread, "That you," he jabs at her chest with the tip of the pistol, "Belong to me?"
With his hands snaking over the nape of her neck, he seized her, bringing her closer. Breathing down her ears, he paralyzed her with memories of abuse playing in an endless loop. A stinging pain raced through her scars, boiling her blood, snaking its way between her thighs...
She shoves him back, and he chuckled aggressively.
"Still fighting? Always so disobedient…well, no matter, I told you, didn't I," Madness unravels, twisting like distorted colors in a kaleidoscope. Shards of a broken mirror reflect his disturbed persona. "Anything…Sherry," Golden pools carry a dark promise from the past. "Can be broken."
"Either you submit, or…"
He raised the gun with a click, pointing it at the children, and Ran.
"They die."
A sick game emerges from the depths, marred by the dead visage of a gentle giant and screams of lost innocence.
"Now choose," The air grew heavy as his words sliced through the silence like a sharpened blade. "Sherry."
(Recording) One week ago:
"It was a doctrine we all believed in," Vermouth spilled, flanked by crisp walls and floors. Green, piercing eyes filled with hatred. They reflected a mixture of anger and cunning. Torment is hidden behind well-defined features. "That as long as we followed Ashiko's teachings, we would be saved. We could reclaim what was lost, and the suffering would cease."
Their actions were hardly logical, and no amount of theories could explain them. A particular sort of group thinks that led to a snowball effect.
"I've never questioned the man who raised me. He was a father behind his teachings. He was kind, never raised his voice, and gave me everything I wanted. I grew, fell in love, married a man he chose...a follower from the group, and had a child."
A faint network of lines etched around her eyes, revealing the burdens of her past. The woman, Shinichi could not bear to admit, had been a victim of a cult.
"A child?" Ran whispered, studying the woman wearily.
"She was my baby, yes. She was—" The woman paused momentarily, grimacing slightly at the mention. Hands clamped tightly around the sheets. "He promised that as long as I followed Ashiko's teachings, I would be rewarded."
"Rewarded?" Worms settled in his stomach, Shinichi unable to keep his dread at bay. The answers he formulated and the deductions he drew crumbled before his eyes.
"Wasn't the organization created…to find a cure?" Ran asked, realizing the contradictions to her story. Shiho's live demonstration in Otaru months ago was still playing in their heads. The red-white pill, believed to cure all diseases, was a miracle drug. But—
Looking towards the blue afternoon skies, Vermouth turned away from them. Olive eyes lost their light, her crooked smile disappeared, and she chuckled dryly.
"Rum possessed a charismatic personality. With conviction and confidence, he spoke with a gentleman's quality. The miracles he performed…the demonstrations were legendary. Unexplainable acts were accomplished, and uncanny abilities to cure the sick and restore the body were performed. Once, he caused cancer to disappear from a patient who eventually became his disciple. His feats fascinated us, and we did not question the validity of his actions."
"Miracles? Acts?"
"Yes," Vermouth spat, "acts which solidified his positions. A miracle cure, a drug created by the Miyanos. I later learned that it was an experimental failure. Those acts performed every week were tests disguised as an elaborate rite. It was staged in front of the congregation, and those who took the drug, despite surviving, were never seen again."
"They were failures," Shinichi whispered solemnly, recalling the files he had read. It is clear from Atsushi's reports that the victims were Rum's followers.
"And none of you…realized?" Ran stared at the woman with a mixture of horror and...pity.
Even though Shinichi cannot forgive the woman for what she did to Shiho...
Dressed in a hospital gown, her face reveals the wear and tear of exhaustion. Her lips were pale and cracked, and she was frail. Like a broken branch that sways in torrential winds, Vermouth did not resemble the threat she posed months ago. Instead, weathered and marked, her eyes tell a story of a life betrayed.
"I know how foolish it sounds," Vermouth admits, "but it's what I was taught. It seemed right, so it must be true. I had no need to question moralities...after all," the woman smirked, "Good or bad…are subjective, am I right…Detective."
She was taunting him, and he couldn't help but scoff. "Subjective as it is…actions done to hurt," Shinichi declares, "Require repentance."
He recalls Shiho's guilt. The weight and nightmares she possessed as she apologized to those her experiments had killed. Laden with the burdens of what she'd done, the shrunken scientist, at least, had faced it head-on.
"One that you clearly do not have," Shinichi stressed, and she laughed.
"I regret nothing," she reveals, her lips spreading into an unnatural smile. "No matter what was done, my goals remain the same."
"What transpired that day?" Shinichi prodded, "17 years ago."
A moment of silence falls over the whitewashed room as an underlying tension emerges. Then the woman sighed.
"It was a typical Saturday," Vermouth began, "a day of worship. We congregated, not questioning the secrecy of his teachings. According to Rum, revealing our gatherings to the public was forbidden, and those who did so were excommunicated."
"Excommunicated?" Ran whispered.
"Shot and buried in multiple locations," the woman reveals like it was nothing, "They were defects, according to him, and defects had to be fixed. We…"
The woman paused. It was the first time Shinichi had seen her disturbed. Unable to contain her deliberate mask, it falls for just a second. In disgust, he observes the woman biting her dry lips and drawing blood.
"Consumed," she continued, "their hearts, burning the rest."
At this moment, Shinichi remembered the painting found in the Nakanos household. A grotesque replica of Francisco Goya's Saturn Devouring His Son. With wide-eyed horror, the image of a giant tearing into a man's torso lingered.
"Consumed!" Ran held a hand to her lips as Shinichi clenched his fist tightly.
"It was part of the transformative process," Vermouth explained, "Souls, you see," she pointed to her chest, "Live on within us, fire cleanse, the dead are simply sleeping and," she smirked, "Rum possessed the power…of instilling life."
"What do you mean?" Shinichi, stunned by the revelations, could only gawk at the bombshell.
"But…that is just…" Ran gasped.
With a crooked grin, the woman leans back, looking at the ceiling.
"To think that all motives are grounded in reality is a mistake everyone makes. Madness, you see," she shrugged, "Is fundamentally illogical."
"What did…you do?" Shinichi struggled to find his bearings.
"We believed in his teachings, and the rituals performed with his miracle drug were enough to blind our senses. Indoctrinated, I never questioned that witch, Elena Miyano, about the novelty Rum was so fixated on."
"The Miyanos were…"
"We believed them to be prophets and saviors. They often stood at Rum's side during the rituals, watching as the drug worked its magic. It was all an..." Vermouth spat, "Act!"
A fire ignites, within olive-green eyes, shimmering with a manic glint, dancing with resentment.
"On that fateful day 17 years ago, we were called for a special ceremony. Rum was unusually ecstatic about the occasion. He told us of a miracle that would bring new life to those we had lost. Naturally, we rejoiced and gathered. While Elena and Atsushi Miyano handed out the pills to us, we listened to his sermons and lies. After that, we took the accursed pill."
Shinichi held his breath as he thought of his father's photos of a run-down church in America. The temple of the indomitable cult. That building was the scene of the unspeakable crime Vermouth revealed. Pictures of a basement beneath that structure showed the Miaynos laboratory. Hospital beds were located there, probably housing members undergoing tests.
Hiroshima. The Nakano's. Brothers. The fire. World War 2. Cain and Abel. Cult. Drugs. Experiments—rebirth.
The puzzle pieces settled, and Shinichi was left with a sinking epiphany.
"Brainwashed," Vermouth whispered harshly, "dragged into his silly fantasies, blinded by the promise he envisioned. We all were."
"His purpose…motives all lie within," Shinichi gasped. "A corpse within a man!"
"Yes, Kudou Shinichi," Vermouth smirks, "So what do you want to confirm?"
"He truly believed it would work," Shinichi murmured, "Believed the drug created could bring back..."
"Yes," Vermouth continues, "my daughter, Chris Vineyard, and my husband, John Vineyard, took the drug without thinking twice. Hours later, I woke up in the basement of that cursed church. Disoriented and confused, I was not sure where I was. Elena Miyano greeted me as I rose from the bed."
Vermouth seethes, "She explained what had happened. Confirmed the death of those who had taken the drug. Initially, I was convinced that it was a lie. That we were experiencing a change. I was still adhering to the cult's teachings. But…"
Curling her fingers across the bed sheets, Shinichi noticed the life support beeping louder, accompanied by an eerie smile.
"That witch told me my husband and Chris were dead. My daughter...only twelve years old...was taken from me."
Her expression morphed into grotesque contortions as anger consumed her. "Elena then informed me of the changes to my body."
Shinichi looks at Sharon Vineyard. She should have been at least 55 but maintained the youthfulness of a woman in her 30s. The drug given to those in the congregation room was likely the same drug that Shinichi was forced to take. All these years later, Rum is still inflicting the drug onto others.
"You became…Chris Vineyard."
"I reverted to being a little girl," Vermouth claims. "Chris always took after me when I was young. But though I looked like her and carried a piece of her within me…I was never, in a sense Christina Vineyard."
A madness deepened, and Shinichi could only keep silent.
"I demanded to see my husband and child, but the witch refused. She shoves me back into the bed instead and injects me with a concoction that immobilizes me. And as I lay in that hospital bed, I could hear the arguments that witch had with that…"
Vermouth raised her fist in fury, hitting it against the hospital bed frame, causing it to shake.
"What happened?" Ran found her voice first.
As she uttered a sinister truth, a disturbance ripped through the air. An embodiment of insanity that Shinichi found hard to comprehend, a reminder of humanity's darker side.
"The Miyano's lied to Rum," Vermouth continued, "and claimed that everyone apart from Christina Vineyard had died in their experiment. He was adamant about the outcome; it was the first time I had ever seen him mad. Trashing the laboratory, he called the Miyanos failures. Despite giving him countless test subjects, they still could not come up with a cure. I was baffled, but as I listened, I realized his objectives."
An aura of decay hung in the air, evoking a visceral image that left Shinichi speechless. There was no logic, only a fundamental uncertainty about human nature.
"I trusted him," Vermouth spat, "I believed in him and helped in his endeavors. But we were all just pawns. He used his own daughter…his family! I will not forgive him!"
"You were…" Shinichi whispered.
"Yes…the first success," she revealed, as shadows cascaded around her, the sinister, primal truth emerged, "Renewal."
The recording ends as Shinichi peers into the unknown.
"I see…it worked…" Rum murmurs, "Sharon…is alive."
Hope flickered through hints of madness, threatening to consume everything. A sinister glee filled the one-eyed monster's eyes as he regarded what his supposed "granddaughter" revealed.
Shinichi recalls the actions she took after that.
In the face of powerful forces, Vermouth launched her own attack to take down the organization using unconventional methods. Getting close to Rum, she sabotaged missions by maintaining her disguise as Chris Vineyard. As she continues her quest for revenge, she learns of the Miyanos' death and Rum's desperate search for scientists who can continue the procedure. Unbeknownst to Sharon, Rum was training Shiho to become the next drug producer after learning about her genius.
Driven by her thirst for revenge, she walks down a path that can never be reversed. Forced to maintain a disguise, she engages in activities to achieve her goal, and in doing so—murdered, executed, and tortured. The woman became no different than the man she sought to bring down.
Rum.
"We can both be the God and the Devil," Shinichi whispered, the contentious phrase learned from Itakura-san's coded message, "Since we're trying to raise the dead against the stream of time."
"Two kinds," Shiho had revealed during the discussion months before the first operation, "APTX 4869 wasn't the only drug I worked on."
"It was called…the silver bullet, your magnum opus," Shinichi whispered, as a malicious smile stretched across Rum's lips, "Aberu Nakano," his purpose steeped in absurdity, all leading to a single point, "There is no reviving…your brother."
Episodes used:
Episode 309.
Phew, this was a chapter to write. I don't know if I have satisfied the mystery of the black organization (I could never, Gosho writes a more compelling story). I initially wanted this fic to end without engaging in the black organization side of things. Mostly because, after all these years, I still have no idea what and who the black organization is XD. But one day, as I was scrolling the web, I chanced upon a documentary that truly scared me. Try...a real black organization in the real world. About an insidious man who controls a secret group that engages in many crime-related activities that are shrouded from public media. When he was discovered, what follows is a conspiracy that seems to lead to a mysterious organization with so much power that it could literally do anything. If you want to know more about this, there is a video on youtube that summarize this case clearly. The YouTuber is called: Rotten Mango, and the title of the video is: Korean "No Face" Billionaire Mysteriously Linked to Pile of 32 Dead People in Attic.
It was then that I dwelled on the topics of religious cults and other cult-like practices. And it gave me the inspiration to write Rum's story :D. It is my first time writing something like this, and I hope I managed to write it succinctly. Also...please don't kill me...with the events that happened in the chapter...well, let's just say it would resolve itself as it should. I would also be happy to explain certain situations and plotholes I might have missed out on, and I am not averse to feedback, so feel free to point out my mistakes XD. Again, I would like to thank everybody who has reviewed and left feedback. I wish you all a good week ahead, and I'll see you in two weeks' time.
P.S. The title is in Latin.
