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Overture to Mayhem

“Crawling out of the Woodwork”

In the wake of the gruesome murder of late Five Star General, Andre Tatou, the city of Pearl is experiencing a string of odd behavior from her working class Joes and Josephinas. Since Tatou’s death, citizens have not hidden their elation at his passing. Small businesses and individual families even celebrated the day of his funeral! An occurrence that did not please his colleague, Ortonse Fisher. The Worthington Memorial Park is still closed off to the public.

Though Pearl has not shed a heartbroken tear over the loss of the general, police are working non-stop to find the killer. Detectives involved believe this is the beginning of what will be a string of murders. A serial killer has come to Pearl. Is it for political reasons? Or was Tatou simply at the right place that rainy afternoon in Fallen Greenwich?

One source, however, has led a few to believe that this is for a much more heartfelt reason. On Tatou’s mutilated persons a gold coin was found. A golden token for one of the many amusements that one could have found at Worthington Zoo.

Someone in our fair city wants revenge, dearest readers.

Though the state-run news wants you all to live in terror, this writer is reporting to you all there is nothing to fear from this person. Unless you were involved with the tragedy at Worthington. Authorities will have their work cut out for them concerning the hunt for the nameless, faceless, and genderless killer. Who among us did not lose something that day?

Already this has proven a difficult case. People all across Aquaria and even some in Old America have called in with false leads. More than a dozen have happily confessed to the grisly crime. What is it about this death that has made this island come alive? The people have spoken, albeit with a crazy voice, and they approve of what has happened.

Who will be next, and will it appease Pearl?”

Rory paused to yawn and stretch after finishing her sentence. Watching the cursor blink she frowned. She was stuck. Perhaps some food was in order. Sleeping through the morning, she hadn’t bothered with her daily regime. For a moment, she thought perhaps a distraction would help her to sort out her ideas. Rory shook her head and laughed. A distraction. That was precisely her problem. She had stayed out late, didn’t go to bed until well into the early morning hours, and woke close to noon. It had been worth it though.

A cell phone went off in the room down the hall from her office. A groan reached her ears, followed by the shuffling about and thumps of a body. Rory flexed her fingers, a smirk coming to her lips along with the surge of inspiration. Her distractive muse was becoming quite the important asset to her.

“You’re fucking kidding me?!”

Rory paused, listening as the smooth voice calmed quickly, the next words becoming impossible to hear. For some reason her heart began to beat fiercely within her chest. Footsteps began to move around her bedroom quickly, something knocked over, and a few more colorful exclamations drifted out of there. The door opened and her lover would have run past her opened office if he had not noticed her.

Any other day she’d have laughed at Mark. He slid to a halt, looking cute and incredible with his clothes messy and wrinkled; his hair sexy and in all directions. Any other day she would have dragged him back to her bed. But today, the beautiful day after they had taken the next step in their courtship and spent the night together, his dark doe eyes were wild with concern. She took her glasses off, giving him her complete attention.

“What happened?”

“There’s been another murder, two actually.”

Rory stood and leaned against him, Mark instinctively pulling her close around her waist. He nuzzled her neck, breathing in softly for a few moments. Damn it, and this was supposed to be his day off!

“It’s bad,” he said against her hair. “They don’t know who the second victim is, but Mika Knightly has been murdered.”

Rory stiffened, half from excitement and half from anxiety. It was a vigilante. Someone was taking out the people directly involved. However great this was, from a reporter’s point of view, it was going to become crazy now. Only so many people were left as targets, and she already had a hunch who the next target was. Mark probably knew too. With this knowledge, it was easy to assume that he would be going onto dangerous ground. He had to find out who was behind this, regardless of whether he felt the intended victims deserved what was happening. Getting closer to finding out put him in very real danger.

Mark swallowed hard as he felt the woman tense and hug him closer. With a kiss to her head he stepped away. “I have to get going. I’ll see you later.”

They both had jobs to do. Rory let him go.

* * * * *

Gale grit his teeth and suffered through another sympathetic outburst from an employee as he left his office for the day. He felt a migraine developing as he retold his fabrication for the millionth time. His right arm was in a sling and cradled under his coat across his abdomen. He had only been being careless in his garage, preoccupied while clearing it out and pulled his muscle, nothing serious. Yes, he was feeling fine. No, it should be fine in a few weeks.

He wanted to kill half of his employees by the end of the day.

The sun was just drifting close to the horizon as he made it to his car. Tonight he would be sleeping at his hideaway. Just because he was injured didn’t mean he would slack off on his mission. If anything, his forced time-off would give him the opportunity to go over his next move. This was going to be the big one. He couldn’t afford to fail.

A smug smile graced his pale lips as he stepped through his door. His plans were going along perfectly. It was almost scary how well he perceived the reactions his latest campaign would create. The police were frustrated working harder to uncover the murderer, but not finding anything he hadn’t wanted them to, the media were practically falling over themselves with excitement and happily looked forward to another body turning up, and the civilians were starting to take a cue from the faceless killer. Of course they weren’t running out and attacking the social elite that held them down, but there was an air about the city. Pearl was taking her city back from Ortonse and his kind.

The guards patrolling the streets did not seem so smug now and self-righteous. The week before, a young girl who would have let one of them continue touching her and soil her virtue had it been a month before, had practically shoved the bastard’s balls inside of him with the kick she had landed on the sensitive body part. Those who knew her regarded her as a local hero. What was even better was that there was no violent retaliation. Guards were now wary of their “subordinates” and did not even think of crossing the line. The whole city would be likely to kill them on the streets.

On the whole of things, Pearl seemed less bleak than before.

Getting himself a bottle of water and a sandwich, he sat down to go through his plans. Nothing much had changed since he had first thought them up. The moment he had stepped out of the hospital eight years before, he had known just what he needed to do. Of course, over the years he had polished them, perfecting any flaw in his attack he could find. He could hardly believe it, he felt giddy! Soon everything would be over.

Hours later, Gale put away his papers and shut down his computer. In the silence of his apartment he cleared his head. With his plot put aside, he pondered what he had not let himself think about the whole weekend and Monday. Whenever he went out to take a life he was calm and focused, a machine for Death. However, this last time his anger was brought on by something other than Sean and Bastion. His rage had been fueled further then and it didn’t escape him the malice he treated his victims to was extra brutal.

First it had been because the thoughts themselves were present, pushing his agony and longing for his lover and child to the healthy part of his grieving heart. Then it was the boy that had been completely satisfied and sleeping when he went into Mika’s office. It could have been him. It was an irrational thought, but just the idea of her laying her hands on Calen sent him into a completely berserker mode. Even with her dead he felt his blood begin to boil.

This had to end.

Gale’s eyes opened from his meditation, midnight blue with emotions that he was scared to feel again. His hands trembled as the image of the younger man, smiling and gorgeous, popped into his head. The force with which he stood knocked over his empty bottle and he was soon out the door, pulling his coat on.

God damn it, Sean. I’m sorry.

A block down the street, Gale dropped his money into the slot. The number seemed to be branded into his memory and he clenched his teeth. It was just another reason this needed to be done. A growl rose in his throat, a frustrated howl wanting to escape. He couldn’t believe his hand was sweating as he listened to the line dial through.

“Hello?”

The usually light, smooth voice was heavy with sleep and Gale cursed himself. It was rather late. Just hearing him made him feel conflicted.

“Calen.” He didn’t say who was calling. The boy would know.

“Yes.” Immediately Calen was awake.

Gale clenched his teeth. He could hear him shuffling about, ready if he was needed. With the last bit of his crumbling resolve, he made his voice stern and steely. “I’m sorry to call so late, but I wanted to tell you that I don’t require your assistance any longer. Thank you for what you did give me.”

He hung up. Calen was a smart young man. After this, their paths would be likely to never cross again.

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