Idea: I had a weird dream that I played with in my mind until it turned into a cool story. I don’t remember when I wrote this, all I know is it was before 2010.
Process: I don’t really remember, but it came out easily.
Edited: Nah. I always figured if I went back I’d probably rewrite it and finish it.
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Prologue:
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I was trying to get up the courage to go to my fourth and last class of the day when Maika came chatting by. “I’ll bet today we dissect a frog,” she told me, pulling me through the hallway. “That sounds awful.” I didn’t like frogs, or dissection. It was only as we neared the classroom that what she said really sunk in. “Wait — biology?” I cried, shocked. “Don’t you ‘member? They switched this week around because of absence.” “Huh?” “Teacher for land stuff.” “Geography?” “That one. Sick or quite.” Maika doesn’t make sense half the time when she talks, but I got the drift. “Oh no.” “What’s matter?” “I don’t want to go to biology.” “No?” I slipped out from under her arm. “No. Really. I — I’m not feeling well. I think I’ll go home early.” “Wanna cover for you?” “Um… all right. Bye.” I turned away. I felt a hand on my shoulder and jumped. She faced me, looking concerned. “Kuer, you right?” Maika was the only one who called me by my middle name. I guess it’s just another way of talking for her. “Yeah,” I said, and left before she could press me. That’s how I ended up going home in the early afternoon, and why I figured I’d take the long way then tell my mother class got out a little early. With Maika covering for me, I was sure my mother would never hear about my absence. It was all that which led to me walking by that alleyway and seeing what I saw. Don’t ask me how Maika managed to get there from the other way so soon — but something else first. I heard voices coming from the alleyway. Not connecting it with the stories I’d heard I went forward, wondering if someone was in trouble. Turns out there was someone, he was in big trouble, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I stopped right before I would have been seen when I heard him yell. Although gangsters hadn’t shown their faces much lately, I remembered being warned by my mother to stay away from men who yelled. I peeked around the corner, the sight to become the first of many images forever imprinted in my head that I would gladly be rid of. The one who was yelling looked like a normal enough Unistats guy, a little older than me, with dark features that for a moment looked purple. He was yelling at three other guys… scarily unfazed by his anger. Although the trio looked normal at first glance, closer inspection proved them to be weird. The scary part comes next. Yellow and red and the dark liquid spilling out, Maika came — I prayed please, please god, make her run, but she didn’t — she fell to the ground and I was scared stiff. I was in shock as I watched this happen, I stayed in shock as the three of them walked calmly away from the carnage. They left. Three. Why three? I didn’t know, I couldn’t say. I was still in my shock as the first one was carried away, and that’s all I know. Please believe me….
Chapter 1: Interrogation
“Thank you, Miss… Bejril?”
“Yes.”
“Your story is very straight out, but I’d like you to elaborate on what happened to your friend and the other body.”
“And can you tell us what the three looked like?”
“It’s hard to—”
“If we know what they look like, it’s possible we’ll be able to catch them for what they did. Will you help us?”
“I will… alright.”
“I’m ready.”
I told them. I remembered more than I would ever have liked.
There was the dark one, the one I didn’t notice at first because he wore a dark hoodie over his dark hair and stood in the shadows, hands in his pockets, quietly observing. The one who looked to be the scariest had wild red hair — not orange red like people have, but a rich red of blood that made his emerald eyes shine. His eyes were slanted, face pointed, and he was small in stature for a guy. Around his neck was a dark thread that held the most beautiful pendant I had ever seen. Imagine looking down straight into a raging ocean, add a dash of that silvery color around the moon, tint it blue, and you have the color that drew my eye. I could not see the shape of the pendant clearly, though it looked like a teardrop. Despite his beautiful pendant and a face that could have been pretty, his brows were raised in anticipation, his lips drawing a sneer. Though his fighting stance and overall effect that made me cringe, he wasn’t as nearly as scary as the last one. This was the definite leader of the bunch, the scary one, the one who did it.
“He is the killer?”
“Yes.”
“Describe him, please.”
“He was a Japponsei prince.”
“Excuse me?”
“The others called him Ouji-sama, which means prince.”
I studied Japponsei in middle school because my first crush was Japponsei. It wasn’t until later I learned he spoke less of the language than I did.
“I see. What did he look like?”
“His eyes and skin looked Japponsei, and he was small — though not as small as the red one — but his hair was yellow.”
“Yellow? …Hair; bleached.”
“I — I don’t think so. It looked natural. It was a dark blond.”
“Ahh. What weapon did he use? Dynamite or a bomb?”
“None. His hand.”
“That’s impossible. A wound like that?”
None of the blood that covered me was my own. I hadn’t been hurt. But I was sure that if they had seen me I would have been. After all, he went after Maika, when all she did was run in attempt to save the single guy.
“It is possible. Would you like me to show you how he did it?”
“All right. I’ll stand.”
“He brought it up underhand, palm up, stiff, like this. But when the fingers touched the stomach he jerked his hand around to go in palm down with the sharpness of a salute. That’s the circle. He probably did that to use the full strength of his turn, like boxers do.”
“I’m still not sure if I believe it.”
“That’s what I saw.”
“Sir, it’s just confirmed. There are some strange scorch marks on the girl’s body.”
“It could have been a bomb then.”
“You don’t believe me? There was no bomb. It was probably…”
“What is it? Was there something else?”
“N-no. Nothing else. Maybe his hand was on fire.”
“Sarg…”
“Did you see any flames?”
“No. I guess he could have had a weapon and I just didn’t see or hear it. That’s possible.”
“All right. Now there’s one thing more I’d like you to do for us before you go see your friend. Are you up to it?”
“What is it?”
“I have some photos of some people. See if you recognize any of them as the three men or the one who was killed.”
“Oh… all right.”
I’d seen some of them on the news, and one looked like Sivle Parsley, most of them were from the Unistats, a couple were Mexochan….
“Nobody?”
“I told you, they were Japponsei.”
“You only said the blond one was.”
“Oh. Well, I’m pretty sure the red one was. Maybe the dark one wasn’t, I couldn’t see his face.”
“I see.”
“But none of these people look like them. They’re all—”
“What is it?”
“Who is this woman?”
“Oh, her. She’s been on this list for almost ten years. Her husband put her in the asylum after she murdered her two children. Two years later she broke out and smashed his head in with a— well, she’s certainly crazy, but she’s wanted for murder as a criminal. Some say—”
“Pers!”
“Uh… sorry Sarg.”
“Have you seen this woman, Miss Bejril? She will be presumed dead in another month, a decade after she disappeared.”
“Oh, no. I thought she looked like someone I saw, but it’s definitely someone else.”
“All right. Is there anything else you would like to tell us, Miss Bejril?”
“No. Thank you, Sergeant, but may I please go see my friend now?”
“Of course. If you remember anything else, let us know.”
“Oh… all right.”
“Good day, Miss Bejril. We will do all we can to look for the men who attacked your friend. Thank you for your time.”
The Sergeant of investigation tipped his hat at me, then turned heel and walked out the door, the officer Pers following like a dog who needs no leash.
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Myra Karine & Her Blog 