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"And out of the darkness, the Zombie did call
True pain and suffering he brought to them all
Away ran the children to hide in their beds,
for fear that the devil would chop off their heads."
-"Call of the Zombie"; Rob Zombie
"What do you think you're doing?" Heero asked, watching Duo carefully as his lover was applying makeup to his already pale features. "Is there a hobby of yours you didn't mention to me?"
Duo turned and smirked at him. It was odd to see how much Heero had changed since his death. Not only had the perfect soldier wound up completely insane and locked up in a mental hospital, but he had been repeatedly raped by an orderly, and even tortured on one occasion. Duo had found him there and had ended up taking his lover to the land of the dead with him as a result. It was Heero's terror of the orderly that had prompted Duo to make a promise; one that he was in the process of getting ready to fulfill. "Well, only on weekends, koi," he cracked. "It gets a little boring."
"I'm serious, Duo," Heero told him. "What are you doing?"
"It's nothing you need to worry about, okay?" he demanded gently. "I have something to do; I'll be back soon, ne?" Leaning down, he placed a kiss on Heero's lips, leaving a dark stain, much to his annoyance. It didn't matter, though; Heero would just wipe it off.
Heero grabbed Duo by the braid before the American had a chance to stand all the way and pulled him back down. "Promise me," he requested. "That you'll come home." He'd lost Duo once and he'd be damned if he would ever let it happen again.
"I promise, Heero," Duo whispered, reaching up to touch one cheek before standing. A bird's call sounded in the distance. "But I gotta go now, or I won't have another chance." He abruptly turned and rushed away before Heero could say anything or ask any more questions. He knew that Heero wouldn't be happy with what he was about to do, but he was Shinigami; and if nothing else, he was granted one chance to make good on his promise.
"So I get one shot at this, right?" Duo asked, watching for his prey from a dark corner near the bar where the crow had lead him. It had all come about when he'd been restless after Heero's death. He'd wanted more than anything to find the bastard that had broken Heero and turned him into a frightened child, left in a dark room, no savior, no angels to watch over him, no way to regain his stolen virtue. He jumped when he actually got an answer.
"You win the prize, Hot-shot," the crow replied sarcastically. He had been given to this one after the boy had met up with the Skull Cowboy and had somehow persuaded the Powers That Be that he needed to seek revenge on the man who had sodomized and tormented his lover. "But if you keep yapping, you'll give away your carefully planned element of surprise."
"Now who's yapping?" Duo muttered darkly, but continued to watch for Dale Martin, the man who had caused Heero so much pain. Fortunately, it wasn't a long wait.
Martin stumbled out of the bar roughly twenty minutes later, reeking of cheep booze and cigarettes. His stained white t-shirt looked gray in the dim light under his jacket, his long blonde hair hanging in a greasy shag on his head, obscuring his eyes. He was definitely drunk and had allowed a few brief thoughts of the dead patient that he'd enjoyed so much creep into his mind. He had no worry about ever being caught for his little indiscretion. After all, the kid was dead and if he'd managed to say anything while he was still alive, no one would have believed him. Hell, he would regularly tell everyone that some dead buddy of his was still alive, no matter how many times his friends had told him that the kid was gone.
Fuck, the little shit was so nutty, they didn't even stick around for very long, he thought as he lit a cigarette. Too bad, though. That little blonde piece of ass was nice to look at. For that matter, he'd also been eyeing the other three pilots, as well. The couple that had come in, and he knew they were a couple, just from the way they would stand close to one another, discreetly brushing fingers or exchanging looks when they thought no one was paying attention, they'd given him some terrific dreams for several nights. And the kid with the hair; now there was one he wouldn't have minded getting his hands on, too. But that one had a particularly dangerous look in his eyes, as did the kid with the weird bangs. There were rumors that they had been Gundam pilots during the war. He just figured them for orphans, just like the sweet little piece he'd gone to every night.
He was so lost in his thoughts, he didn't even hear the nearly-silent footsteps behind him. He hadn't noticed much about any of his surroundings until the big fucking bird dived at him with a harsh caw, nearly scalping him in the process. "?the fuck?" he hissed, whipping around, placing a hand to his wounded head. The scratches weren't deep, but they were definitely bleeding.
"Well, you know what they say about animals having that special sense to tell a person's nature, ne?" a deep voice offered from a figure standing not three yards before him. Shadow obscured most of the person's features, but there was a long braid blowing off to the side in the wind.
Dale squinted a little, trying to get a better look at whoever it was that had felt the need to bother him. He was still a bit angry about losing his playtoy and he wasn't in the mood for games. The figure was dressed either in all black or a very dark blue, except for the barely-visible white patch at the front of his throat and the dull glint of gold from the cross around his neck. A priest? he thought. Naw, couldn't be. There wasn't even a church in the neighborhood. "Sound like you're a little old to be out trick-or-treating, kid," he drawled, sizing the smaller frame up for a moment. "And you're about four months early. Your momma know you're out so late?"
Duo chuckled. "If she were alive, I doubt she'd be able to do anything about it," he replied coolly, stepping forward into what little light the dirty streetlamp had to offer and watched with satisfaction as Martin's face registered a dull look of confusion. "But I do like to trick-or-treat, even if it is a bit early."
Martin blinked a few times, wondering what Gary gave him. It looked like the kid was wearing makeup; vertical lines of black running from the forehead and down the cheeks, a black smile extending from full, painted lips. And the kid wasn't smiling; in fact, the wild look in his eyes set the hair at the back of Martin's neck on end. He barely heard what the kid said next.
"So how about it, Dale?" Duo hissed. "Trick?or treat?"
Martin frowned. So that's what this was. Some stupid joke that one of his friends had set up, trying to scare him. "Alright, punk, who sent you? Was it Kevin or Bailey?"
The crow dived again, making another tear in his scalp. "Wrong answer," Duo informed him. "No one sent me but me. Of course, that's because I have some business with you about a friend of mine. You remember, don't you? You scarred him for screaming my name when you raped him once."
Realization began to dawn in his mind. "What the hell," he laughed, throwing his cigarette but to the ground. "The little freak was right. You are still alive. So, you're the infamous Duo we all kept hearing about. Now I see why he screamed your name, but I would much prefer you in the same position he was. Ass in the air and bent over the bed. Hell, you've got hair like a bitch, you should take it like one."
Duo saw red and moved forward in a motion so fast, he doubted Heero would have been able to fend him off. No one talked about Heero that way! Grabbing the older man by the throat, Duo shoved him into the nearest wall hard enough to hear a crack. Whether it was bone or something else entirely, he didn't care. All that mattered was that he was going to kill this bastard and he was going to do it slowly. "You fucker," Duo growled, squeezing at Martin's throat. "You drugged him, you raped him, you made him want to die. You took what little he had left and you killed him because of it."
Pulling out the syringe he'd?found, Duo pulled the cap off with his teeth and let his prey get a good look at it, reveling in the fact that the man's eyes bugged out even further than before. "Yeah, you know what this is, don't you?" he crooned, running the tip of the needle down Martin's throat over the jugular. "And all of it's just for you. I'm going to let you feel what he did?how it feels to be afraid and alone and helpless, where you don't even have the power to scream."
Dale tried to get away from the iron grip that held him stationary, but no amount of clawing and hitting at the boy made any difference. He could feel the sharp prick of the needle sliding into his neck and the chill of the poison seeping into his blood. In a blind moment of terror, he screamed; or at least tried to. All that came out of his throat was a pathetic mewl and he pawed weakly at Duo's shirt. The violet eyes that met his own showed no mercy, no sympathy. The glare of hatred alone nearly stopped his heart.
"Now?what to do, what to do?" Duo murmured to himself. He'd been so angry, all he'd thought about was getting his hands on this guy and killing him slowly, but how? The sedative he'd administered was fast-acting, so he didn't have any need to keep an eye on his prisoner while he pondered it. And he also knew what torture waiting could be. The fear of not knowing what would happen next, combined with the sensation of helplessness, he knew it very well. From where, he couldn't rightly remember; sure, he'd been locked up by Oz, but this was one sensation that he got the strange feeling he hadn't experienced firsthand.
"You didn't, Junior," the crow informed him, as if it were able to read his thoughts. "You got the memories from your boyfriend. Remember how you both passed out after your little?healing retrieval? You've got those memories in your head, kid."
And at the mention of the words, Duo fell to his knees with pain as all the thoughts, feelings, emotions and sensations were flooding through his entire body. The pain was exquisite, making him cry out, but not a sound uttered from his lips. Oh God, I feel like I'm dying all over again?please don't let this just be the end of it?I have to kill this guy, or he'll do it to someone else? his thoughts screamed in panic. Then, a new set of thoughts broke through his own panic, flashes of coherence through pain that immobilized him entirely.
Help me?Duo, where are you?I need you?stop it, it hurts?someone kill me?please?oh God, I'm bleeding everywhere and it won't stop?it burns?DUO!!
This time, he did scream. He realized that he'd heard Heero's thoughts as he'd been torutred. The knowledge of what Heero had suffered, knowing that he'd silently cried for Duo to save him made Duo feel sicker than he ever had. It was even worse than the time he'd eaten all that junk and rode the zipper five times in a row at the fair on one of their off-days two years ago. Heero had taken care of him, only occasionally calling him an idiot for his over-indulgence and love of carnival rides, keeping the hair out of his face as he'd vomited for almost an hour straight, made sure there was always a glass of water nearby, held him close and murmured to him until he fell asleep and stayed with him all night. And when Heero needed him, where had he been? Dead, beacause you were an idiot, his thoughts berated. But you've got the chance, now?do something! Make this son-of-a-bitch feel it all. Your pain, Heero's pain?that alone might even kill him. The pain, the fear, knowing he's alone and there is no one in Heaven or Earth to save him from it. "Yeah, I think that would be nice," he chuckled, getting to his feet and sauntering over to where Martin lay.
"Oh, I bet you're thinking since I screamed, someone is gonna come running, aren't you?" he asked, watching Dale's eyes dart toward the opening of the alley. "But we both know better than that, don't we, Dale? It's the reason you come to places like this, why you work in a mental insitution; people may hear the screams, but no one bothers to check. No one cares."
The blonde man whimpered again and shut his eyes. The kid was right; there would be no one coming to check, and if perchance someone walked by and saw them, they would just keep walking. It was none of their business, so they didn't bother to get involved. He suddenly wished that he'd picked better places to frequent, but that point was moot at the moment, and who was to say the kid wouldn't have found him somewhere else?
"Yeah, it sucks, doesn't it?" Duo asked, almost casually. "How does it feel?" The question was a feral snarl as he jerked the orderly to his feet. Thankfully, he's been rather aware of his surroundings beforehand and had a perfect idea to share the experience with Dale Martin. He smiled coldly at his prey, enjoying the terror in his eyes. Oh, you bastard, you've had this a long time coming?and I want to go home.
"How sick is this? I mean, Jesus?I've never seen anything like this, not in the twenty years I've been working this beat, anyway." The speaker was older, a bit soft around the middle, but nonetheless a rather fit man. His dark gray hair was combed neatly under his hat, his uniform spotless, but he refused to look at the sectioned-off area, strung with the brilliant yellow police tape that was all-to-farmilliar to the woman he was addressing. "I don't know how you do it, Detective, but this is one time when I say rather you than me."
Karen Murphy nodded absently, striding forward, wanting more than nothing but to get the scene documented, searched for clues and cleared out as quickly as possible. Pulling on the sour-smelling rubber gloves and stepping under the streamers, she took a deep breath. The call had come in, swearing it was one of the most disgusting murder scenes many of them had ever seen. She walked by a uniform that she didn't know and flashed her badge, looking him in the eye, challenging him to make even one remark. And he did, as expected.
"Ma'am?I understand that you're a fellow officer and whatnot, but really, this isn't fit for a lady to lay eyes on?" he warned uneasilly.
"I'm in charge of this investigation, so I suggest you quit worrying about my more delicate sensibilities and allow me to do my job,"she informed him crisply. "And trust me, son, I'm no lady." She hated the prejudice that was still underlying in the force. Even centuries after Women's Sufferage and rights, there were always the traditionalists that felt women should not be working homicide, under any circumstances.
There was a barrier erected, closing the sight off from any innocent passers-by. This was one thing that seriously piqued her interest. There were several crimes she'd been the leading officer on, but rarely were any murders bad enough to block them off from view. Especially in neighborhoods like these, where death was an everyday part of life. Waving a brief hello to the photographer and the forensics techs, she opened the flap of the blue tarpaulin and stifled her urge to gag.
Blood was everywhere, the majority of it coagulated in a stain on the ground. The victim had apparently been impaled?from the rectum through to the throat where the fencepost jutted out under his chin. She made a pretty good guess that he'd been dead since the early hours of the morning and he'd been alive for at least part of his torment, his face frozen in a silent scream of pure terror. The sudden flash from the camera brought out every stark, gruesome detail. Including the crow drawn in blood on the man's naked chest.
"What the fuck?"
