The Crow: Solitude of Silence – Act 1

-Banner by Ragna “D” Bloodedge-

An overcast sky was just now showing the half moon and stars behind it. The moisture still in the air combined with the day’s high temperature made it a muggy experience for anybody outside, although the slight coolness of the wind gave the hope for a more comfortable tomorrow. The tranquility of the night was broken by the sounds of police sirens as an unmarked car pulled up in front of a cemetery. The two individuals that got out briefly glanced at the crowd that was being held back by a few uniformed officers and the police barriers before going in. Following the light given off by the younger one’s flashlight and ducking under the yellow police line tape the older of the two commented, “Just when I think I’ve seen it all in this city.” His younger partner just grunted in agreement as they continued on. Wiping the sweat from his shrinking hairline he added, “What kind of God forsaken time are we living in anyway? This shit should have died out long before now. Doesn’t anybody have any fucking morals anymore? Robbing a grave for Christ’s sake. How desperate can you get?”

“Tell that to the gawkers by the gate,” his younger partner said jerking a thumb behind him. “Or should I call them the ghoul squad?”

“Careful Jay,” the older one said.”They’ll get their panties in a bunch if they heard you.” Both of them shared a small chuckle that quickly disappeared when they reached their destination. A couple of uniform police officers and an old man with thick gray hair were standing around a hole in the ground. Absentmindedly rubbing the top of his head the older one stated, “I’m Detective Frank McCormick, this is my partner Detective Jason Mitchell. I assume you’re the caretaker for this place.”

“Yes sir,” he answered, “for the last twenty odd years. As I was telling to officer here I’ve seen a lot of crazy shit in that time. I’ve had to run off freaks throwing parties, some ghost hunter wanna bes, bastards doing drugs. Hell I caught two teenagers fucking each other right over there just last month.”

“Do you come here nightly Mr. …?” Jay trailed off as the officer present gave him a look at his notebook, “Smith?”

“Pretty much have too in this city,” he answered. “I try to guard the grounds at least two or three a week. But I’ll be damned if I’ve ever seen anything like this before in my life.”

“I know this is a long shot,” Frank said, “but do you have any idea if anything was taken off the body?” It made sense at least to him. They buried his Grandmother years ago with a gold and silver broach she had all her life.

“Look for yourself,” he said gesturing toward the hole. “You gotta see this for yourself.” The officer nodded in agreement. Oh this was going to be fun. Frank nudged Jay foreword a bit. When he started to protest he pulled seniority and gave him a lopsided grin before walking away. Cursing to himself Jay edged toward the hole, covering his nose from any smell he imagined to be in there and leaned over. He saw what he expected to see: dirt, a coffin, that box they put the coffin in. Everything but one minor little detail.

“Where’s the body?”, he looked up and asked. Frank hurried back over and looked in himself. He was a shocked as Jay and he knew what to expect.

“Son of a bitch!” he said stepping back in disgust. “What kind of sick fucks are we dealing with?”

“And you didn’t see anything?”, Jay asked.

“Like I said to him, I was doing my nightly rounds and found it just like this.”

Looking around at all the standing water and fresh footprints in the mud, made by them unfortunately, Jay sighed, “Forensics is going to love working on this one.”

“They found evidence in worse muck than this,” Frank commented.

He nodded figuring his partner knew what he was talking about. Jay was only promoted to Detective a few months ago. Waving his flashlight at the tombstone he felt that sick feeling in his gut get a little larger. This body was buried almost a couple of years ago according to the date, one he committed to memory at the time as well as the name, Brad Walker. Looking at the untouched grave next to it he wasn’t surprised to see the name Nancy Logan with the same date of death. Going back to Walker’s grave he said, “Still can’t get any peace of mind can you? Even after they put you in the ground”

Realizing what he was thinking Frank told him, “Jay start looking around for anything that we can point toward forensics. These bastards had to have left something behind to link them to this.” Jay nodded after a few moments and went looking, but Frank could tell he really wasn’t in it. Not that he could blame him. He noticed the caretaker looking at the grave with a particular look on his face. He had been on the force long enough to know that look. “Something on your mind sir?”

“I’m just looking at this hole. Something about it still doesn’t look right to me.”

Looking confused himself, he glanced at it than back at the caretaker, “What do you mean?”

“Like I said I’ve been digging graves for twenty years. I’ve even dug up a few myself when you guys needed a body exhumed for whatever reason. But this looks like no hole I ever seen dug.”

“It looks like a hole to me,” the officer commented. Frank had to agree.

“Yeah but to me it looks like somebody made their way out instead of in.” Both of them just looked at him. “Now I know what you’re thinking and I haven’t touched a drop of anything in five years. Just giving my professional opinion is all.”

“I appreciate that sir,” Frank said. “The officer over there will take your official statement, thank you for your time.” The caretaker nodded as he headed over to the one he pointed to. Frank and the officer looked at the grave.

“Did ah…,” the officer pointed toward Jay, “he know this Walker guy or something?”

“Something,” he said, “Kid let me tell you one thing. You ask any officer on the force and more than likely most of them will say they have a case that just sticks in their craw like no other business. And I don’t mean a case they couldn’t solve no matter how they looked at it either. No I’m talking about a case where you did everything by the book, got all the evidence, crossed all the ‘T’s and dotted the ‘I’s and knew with everything they had they had the bastards cold and there was no way they could walk away. And yet they did.” Looking back at the tombstone, “This guy is his.”

“That’s gotta eat at you a bit doesn’t it?”

Remembering a couple of cases of his own like that all he could respond with was a, “Kid you got no idea.”

***

About that time a few miles away a man was stumbling down the street. The dark suit he was wearing was covered with caked on mud that slowly flaked off as it dried. His dark hair covered in dirt as well as he looked around trying to find something, anything familiar. As he wrapped his arms around himself for warmth he was aware that the only other living thing on the streets with him was a crow that hovered nearby. Every so often it would land on something and wait for him to catch up before taking off again. It was almost as if it was leading him somewhere.

Opening his mouth he tried to call after it, but nothing came out. He tried again and again but still his voice refused to cooperate. The crow came back and landed on top of a street sign just looking at him, waiting. The more he tried the more he realized something else was wrong. Hand shaking he reached up and felt inside his mouth. That shake affected the rest of his body as he realized his tongue was missing. Horror overtook him as he tried to scream but frustrated that he couldn’t. A jolt of a memory dropped him to his knees.

<<<>>>

He was on the floor of some apartment and somebody was on top of him holding him down. A woman was screaming in the background. He was screaming for them to stop. A Japanese guy grabbed him by the hair as the weight that was on him lessened a bit. Holding a rough looking knife in one hand and gripping his face with the other he said, “I’m sick of hearing you,” then he drove that knife into his mouth. He tasted steel a split second before tasting blood as the blade violated his mouth.

<<<>>>

A few more faces came from the depths of his broken memory. A young looking guy jacking himself off to something. A black guy coming out of the room looking satisfied. An almost angelic looking woman with red hair licking one of those knives seductively. Another white guy in a red jacket going into that room with the screaming woman. His hatred grew with each one as they came to him. Looking at the crow as it flew off he hurried off after it. He didn’t know why but now he was positive that bird was trying to help him. Part of his mind questioned it but he ignored it.

They stopped in front of an old thrift store. The handmade “Store closed for good, thanks for the years of business” sign in the window confused him. He knew this place for some reason, he knew it did good business. Walking foreword he put a hand on the brick wall. Another flash hit him, half memory half something else. He saw a young woman, just in her early twenties. Her long brown hair seemed to flow around her shoulders. Her smile and bright blue eyes just drew him in the moment he saw them. Nancy, that was her name Nancy. He came back to his sense as he let go of the wall and realized that woman he heard screaming was her. His anger grew with each passing second.

The crow sat onto of the sign above the door as his hand lightly grazed against the wall as he followed the echo of a memory around the corner to an alley and to the back of the store. The area by the back door was cluttered with various pieces of junk but he didn’t see any of it. Instead he saw him and Nancy hanging around the backdoor of the store during the daylight.

<<<>>>

“Brad I have to show you something,” Nancy said. Turning back to the door she lifted the handle up before turning it one way then going in the other direction. As the door opened she explained, “That’s the only way to get in from back here without somebody on the other side letting you in. Only a couple of us know about it, and we make sure the boss never finds out either. She thinks this thing is locked solid.”

“That’s cool and all,” he said, “but why are you showing me?”

“Julie calls it the significant other privilege,” she joked. “Besides how else am I going to get you back here to keep me company on slow nights without you being caught on camera? And if the store gets robbed with no visible way in I know who to point the police toward.”

<<<>>>

How long ago was that? Not feeling a whole lot of confidence he grabbed the handle. Doing exactly what Nancy did the door opened. Guess nobody informed the boss about this little defect. A musty smell, dust and some cobwebs told him the store’s been closed for a while. His mind going on auto his arms acted on their own as he stripped the suit off of him while he looked around the back room. He found a pair of black jeans that looked like it was his size that he quickly put on. Getting more of the dirt out of his hair he found a pair of black army boots. Putting on a dark blue T-Shirt that was a little loose he found himself looking at picture on the wall. He knew somehow it was a staff photo, a Halloween party from the look of things. Then he remembered, he took that picture, he was there that night…

<<<>>>

He was fidgeting in his chair as Nancy, who was dressed as a clown, painted his face. He had agreed to help out for the Halloween rush. Her boss only had one condition, he had to dress up like everybody else. “This is ridiculous, why did you have to make me a mime?”

“Because it was the only thing I could think of on this short of notice. Now hold still,” she told him as she painted some black lines on him.

“Yeah but a mime,” he continued, “why not a convict or a bum or something? You say I dress like one any way.”

“Well I love it,” she told him. “Now one more word of complaint out of you and I’m going to write ‘I love dick’ on your forehead.”

“You do and you’re ass is mine.”

“What are you going to do tough guy?”, she turned around and wiggled it a bit in front of him. He reached out and slapped her ass, “Hey!”

<<<>>>

She loved it ran through his head over and over as his gaze found an old case of Halloween makeup. Again his hands acted on their own as he searched through the case. Finding some white make up he quickly used his hands to smear it over his face. Going back into the box he found a tube of black makeup. Not seeing an immediate way to apply it he put some on his the tip of his fingers. Putting them just above his eyebrows he traced his face to just below his eyes. Applying some more to his lips his fingers went to the side of his mouth and pushed his fingers out, leaving another line. Heading for the door he saw a black hoodie that was a size too big but he put it on and left unzipped as he exited the store.

Standing in front of it again he finally took a look at himself in the store window. His face looked like a fucked up harlequin mask, but it felt strangely right. “Caw!” He looked up at the crow still sitting on the sign. “Caw!”, it squawked again. He nodded in understanding. As it flew off he pulled the hood over his head and followed.

***

Outside of the city sat a mansion in the middle of a sprawling estate. Despite the armed guards patrolling the grounds the owner didn’t mind people visiting his estate. He often hosted function for the various religious charities in the city. Inside a dark haired man with blue eyes walked the halls in a tuxedo. On the way to his office he stopped in front of a small shrine and said a quick prayer. Entering the two story room he took a left and jogged up the stairs to the upper floor. There he found a woman with her red hair pulled back in a tight bun sitting on the edge of his desk, her black skirt just this side of being indecent. In a cubby hole a little further back sat an old woman he found in Louisiana years ago. A simple table beside her held a worn set of Tarot cards that she lazily put down and read before flipping over the next one. To the younger woman he said, “I imagine this would be important otherwise you wouldn’t have called for me to come back so soon.”

“We got a call from the police an hour ago.” She glanced back at the old woman, “Mrs. Cleo here thought it would be best.” The woman didn’t respond to the remark thrown at here.

“Here name is Estelle,” he told her with a disapproving look. “I suggest you remember that in the future Angelina. Showing the proper respect is always important. No matter who it is,” he shot a veiled look at the old woman himself. Angelina said nothing as she got off the desk and put an extra wiggle in her step as she turned away from him. “So what was in this phone call that was so important?”

“Brad Walker’s grave was just violated,” she said matter of factily. He almost dropped to the floor at hearing the name. “They thought you should know seeing how you paid for his funeral as well as your sister’s.”

“Did they touch Nancy’s grave?”

“No, just Walker’s. Somebody dug him up and ran off with him.”

“That is disgusting,” he said pouring himself a drink to calm his nerves. “That is such the amoral thing I’ve been fighting all these years. I think I’m making some head way bringing some of the Lord’s light into this world and this happens.” Downing the drink in one shot he put the glass down. “Put some feelers out to your contacts. Something tells me this was a particular target. Most grave robbers dig up more than one grave.”

“I already put them out,” she said. “I told the boys to put a rush job on it.”

“They won’t find anything,” the old woman said from the back, an old accent edging her voice. “They will be looking for something mortal. This wasn’t the work of human hands.”

“Here she goes again,” Angelina moaned.

“I showed you the cards,” she continued. “A soul was brought back.”

“And that was nothing but a heathen legend.” He took the cards from her and went through them, not seeing the card he saw from before. “That was smart of you to plant that fake card in your deck. So how did you pull this off and who did you get to steal the body?”

Estelle looked through him again, “For a man who has studied the other ways you have a very closed mind.”

“It is my God given duty to end all of the heathen religions and myths out there,” he told her.” To do that I have to study them, the better I understand them the better I can protect the life the Lord gave us.”

Looking over at Angelina she said, “And yet you keep around symbols of temptation, which you cave into regularly.”

“Careful witch,” he said towering over her. “So far you’ve been useful to my cause. But your usefulness only gives you so much leeway.”

“If you say so,” Estelle said as she stood up and slowly walked out of the room.

“Why do you keep her around Kain?”, Angelina said as she draped herself over him. “I’m not the only one she creeps the fuck out around here. I’ve seen some of staff go the other way when they see her coming.”

“She’s useful in understanding the heathen legends out there,” he told her. “I wouldn’t have gotten this far in my war without her. Make sure the boys understand the urgency of this situation,” he said removing her from his person. “We got away with hiding the connections between the boys to Nancy and Walker once. That doesn’t mean somebody hasn’t found one we missed.”

Angelina sat back on the desk, teasing a look as she brought her legs up, “If you’re that concerned about this maybe you shouldn’t have sent the boys after your own sister.”

He looked up behind his desk at an oil painting of Nancy he had commissioned before she met that man. “She became impure. I would not be much of a general if I let sentiment cloud my judgment.”

***

After several hours the crow acted like it finally found something. Keeping his head low to avoid people seeing his face he headed on. He wasn’t sure how he knew where to go, it was like he was seeing things through the birds eyes. Finding it resting on a trash can lid. As he walked up they stared at each other. Before long the crow started swinging it’s head across the street. Brad looked over to see a strip club. Before he could react the bird flew toward the club. Noticing the line at the door he wondered how he was going to get in without being noticed. About then a fight broke out in the line. Brad watched as a couple of bouncer ran out of the building to stop it. While the door was open the crow flew in over their heads. That worked for the bird but what about him?

Watching for a bit longer he noticed the line formed a crowd around the fighters as more of the club security came out. Might as well go for it. Hurrying across the street he tried to blend in while the guards tried to stop the fight. Before long a bunch of drunk guys came stumbling out. Catching the door before it closed Brad tossed one more look at the guards before going in. It wasn’t long before his ears was assaulted by some loud music. The mixture of sweat and alcohol wasn’t doing his nose any favors either. Staying close to the wall as he entered the main room he looked around. Women in various stages of undress were all over the place with men circled around them like a bunch of vultures. How was he supposed to find anybody in this place? Something made him look up, he saw the crow sitting there on a bunch of pipes. Looking around he found a staircase leading to an upper balcony. Maybe the bird had the right idea.

Getting high as he could he studied the floor below him. “You want a drink stranger?”, a topless waitress asked him. He shoved her away as he kept looking for whoever the bird saw go in here. Over the ruckus he heard the crow caw and he looked toward the main stage. There right in front was a young man watching the dancer currently on it. He looked at the young man for a long time.

<<<>>>

“Dude let me get a piece of that,” he said as he tried to make his way into the bedroom where the screaming woman was. The black guys pushed him back into the hallway. “Dude what the fuck?”

“Nut in something you don’t have to blow up first,” he joked over the screams. The kid try to get in again but again they denied him. “What did I just tell you?”

“Fuck you,” the kid said. Leaning against the wall he got frustrated. Finally going, “fuck it,” he unzipped his pants and started jacking himself off to the scene in the bedroom.

“Shit that’s disgusting Smallfry,” the Japanese guy said. The woman tried not to laugh at what he was using.

“Come on,” the kid grunted ignoring them. “Give it to that bitch. Make her scream fucking louder. Make me feel it.” He had a vague memory him kicking something across the room and laughing.

<<<>>>

Brad closed his eyes trying to push that from his memory but it stayed fast, fueling his anger. He made his way toward the stage and the kid.

By the stage the kid was watching the girls as they came in front of him, reaching and groping one every so often. Every time one of the guards not involved in the outside situation came closer to calm him down he opened his coat to revel the gun inside. If that didn’t work he reminded him who he ran with, the blade he carried was proof enough of that. He may still be “smallfry” to them but to the rest of these bastards his words had some weight to them. Right now his focus was on a nearly naked woman that was dancing in front of him. He was disgusted at her age. “Get out of here bitch, my grandma has firmer tits than you.”

“Asshole,” she said as she moved on.

“What did that bitch just call me?”

“You’re the loser looking at your grandmother naked,” the drunk next to him said.

“Fuck off asshole,” he shoved him to the ground. The guy was so out of it he just laughed on the ground. “Fucking assholes,” he muttered, “can’t get a moment of fucking peace with them around.” Before long the lights on the main stage started to get lower. “Here we go.”

When they were out completely the DJ announced, “All right gentlemen, it’s time for the one lady you’ve all been waiting for. Give it up for Fantasy!”

The lights came on and there was a small thud as those around the stage went quiet. It quickly spread around the club as everyone turned to see what was going on. The woman named Fantasy quickly backed up in fear. Right in front of her was a man in a black hoodie just standing there, his head down. Slowly he lifted it so the ones sitting at the stage could see the makeup underneath. The kid felt a bit unnerved as he realized this freak was staring right at him. Finding her voice Fantasy shouted, “Tony, Bruno get the hell up here!”

“Security to the main stage!” the DJ cried out.

A couple of burley men quickly made their past the crowd who were frozen in place. “Out of the way you son of a bitch,” one said as he threw one to the ground. The man didn’t move until they blocked his view of the kid. Brad tried to punch the head of the one closest to him as he tried to grab him. He went down in a heap as more jumped on stage. “Get the fucker down!” the guard shouted as they tried to tackle this guy.

The freak fought them off with a ferocity that kept the crowd stunned. One of the guards fell on top of the dancer who screamed as she tried to get away. Somebody grabbed him by the back of the hood and pulled it down. He nearly caved in his chest with a kick. He turned back toward the kid. There was a brief flash and something hot and molten ripped through his head as it snapped back. He laid there as the kid kept his gun trained on him. Satisfied he was staying down the kid turned toward the rest of the crowd who looked at him with the same fear in their eyes. “Now that’s how you fucking do it!”

One of the guards still standing started toward him. Pointing the gun on him he warned him. “Don’t try it shit head. I beat one murder rap six months ago and I only just turned twenty-one.” Turning back to the crowd he said, “Anybody else think they have a set the size of watermelons?” He was enjoying the little power trip before he realized they stopped looking at him, they were looking at something behind him.

“Holy shit,” somebody whispered.

“What the fuck are you looking at?”, he demanded as he turned around. Then he nearly shit his pants. The freak sat up on the stage looking at him, the hole in his head quickly healing. But that wasn’t what caused it. The look in his eyes as he stared him down, he’d seen that before. He was being held on the floor as the others raped the bitch he was shaking up with. And he looked right at him with those same exact eyes. “No, you’re dead,” the kid said backing up, nearly falling over. “You’re fucking dead. We fucking killed you!” As Brad stood up the kid fired again. He recoiled from each shot but he continued toward him. “We fucking killed you!!” Running out of bullets he barely had enough sense to move as Brad jumped at him and got the crowd behind him. The kid had enough time to get away as Walker freed himself of the crowd.

The kid ran out the door as fast as his legs could go, totally unaware of the crow that followed him out. Getting on his cell phone he quickly dialed a number. “Pick up you bastard,” he said as he looked around and nearly fell over a bench.

“What is it smallfry,” a voice said. “They throw you out of the club already?”

“Listen to me!”, he pleaded. “He’s after me! The son of a bitch is after me!”

“I told you that you couldn’t touch the girls man.”

“Listen you slant eyed son of a bitch! Walker is fucking after me!”

“Who?”, the other man asked.

“That bastard we killed a year and a half ago. Him and his bitch. He’s fucking coming after me!”

“Damn it I told them not to spike your drink. You’re seeing things.”

“Me and the whole goddamned club!”

“Walker is dead Smallfry, as in dead and buried in the ground. You don’t come back after you’re in the ground.”

“Tell that to Walker.” His heart stopped as he heard something drop to the ground. “3-Knock, I need help and I need it fucking now.”

“Fine I’ll get Thriller to carry you home. Don’t wonder off too far. And stop calling me 3-Knock.”

“3-Knock?” he said as the other man hung up. “3-Knock!!!” Smallfry turned around and saw Walker running down the street toward him. Not thinking he threw his cell phone at him. It bounced off his chest. Smallfry ran down an alley. He heard another noise and threw his gun on instinct. There was nothing there. He breathed heard and he could feel his heartbeat in his fucking toes as he looked around. Walked dropped down and landed on a trash bin behind him.

“Shit!” he tried to turn around but Walker was already on top of him. Smallfry was able to get a finger in his eyes. It distracted him enough that the kid was able to get away and run for the streets. God where was a fucking cop when you needed one? Walker was on him again before he knew it. Throwing him to the ground Walker tried to tear him apart. Smallfry was able to get his knife out. The sight of that blade just seemed to make him madder. “Get away from me!”

Brad was able to get the knife away from him in the struggle. It disgusted him that he held it in his hands but needed it to get out the message. Grabbing the kid’s right hand he stared in his frightened eyes. “Please don’t kill me,” he begged, nearly crying. “I was just doing what the others told me to do. What Godman wanted us to do.” Without a hint of compassion he drove the knife through the back of his hand. “Argh!,” the killed yelled in pain but Brad didn’t let him go, reveling in his screams of anguish. Then he took his hand and forced it into the kid’s crotch. The knife severed his dick as it stuck his hand there. Finally letting him go he dropped to his knees and yelled as loud as he could. Walker grabbed him by the head and made Smallfry look at him with fearful eyes. After a moment he made a masturbating motion with his fist before waving a finger at him. Without warning he grabbed him by the head with both hands and twisted his head around, snapping his neck.

Letting him drop Brad stood there not feeling a damn thing, not disgust not pleasure just nothing. Just what was left of one piece of shit, there were four more to go. The crow landed nearby and cawed at him again. It was practically yelling at him by the time he finally turned away from the lifeless body and walked away.

***

Jay had a feeling it was going to be one of those nights when they got the call about the grave. He should have known how bad it was going to be when it turned out to be Walker’s grave. Now there was some sort of freak show going on at a strip joint. Sharron was going to love hearing about this one.  “How many times do I have to say this,” one particular… “female worker”  he was interviewing said. “I was one stage getting ready to do my act and this psycho in clown makeup jumps down from the fucking ceiling. He beats up the shity security around here. Then some jackass shots him in the head. I swear to God this place is going to kill me one of these days.”

“Then what happened?”, Jay asked trying to get this back on track while doing everything to avoid starting at what she wasn’t wearing.  Seeing Sharron later with a hard on was not going to help him any.

“Well now I’m scared this bastard’s going to fucking kill me. Then the freak fucking gets up. Who fucking gets up after getting shot in the God damned head?!” Saying he didn’t know she continued, “Well the bastard with the gun freaks out saying ‘You’re dead we killed you’ and runs out of here with the freak hot on his ass.”

“Thank you ma’am,” Jay said. He walked away shaking his head.  Everybody he interviewed said pretty much the same thing. Some guy in makeup shows up from out of nowhere, hell breaks loose. Guy gets shot and gets back up.

Frank must have heard the same thing because he found him saying, “So where does a Gacy want to be find a bullet proof vest?”

“It doesn’t explain the head shot,” Jay said.

“Mass hysteria,” Frank explained it away. “One guy thinks he sees it and keeps saying it. Next thing you know the whole crowd saw it. You see it once you’ve seen it a million times.”

“If you say so Frank,” Jay said. “So did anybody recognize the clown?”

“Apparently just the shooter,” the older man said. “But I did get a lead on the shooter. He is one Manny ‘Smallfry’ Jones.”

Nearly dropping his note pad Jay said, “Fucking figures. He’s one of the bastards that got away with Walker’s murder.”

“Easy Jay,” Frank told him.

“His DNA was fucking all over that hallway!”, Jay exploded not able to keep it in anymore. “And I mean everywhere. They should have at least have nailed that sick bastard to the wall. He should be getting ass raped in the shower by some guy named Bubba right now. God we’ll probably find some by his chair over there.”

“So much for some non contaminated witnesses,” Frank moaned. “Look kid, it happens alright. You got to get past it.”

“And the victim was one of Sharron’s closest friends. How in the fuck am I supposed to get past it?”

“When did they stop teaching the new cops about not getting close with the people in the case again?”

Jay walked away, “It just happened alright Frank, I wasn’t planning on having it happen.” His phone went off, “Speaking of, excuse me a sec Frank.” Walking away to a quieter corner before answering he took the call, “Hey honey, now is not a good time.”

“When were you going to tell me about Brad?”, his current girlfriend demanded. And this night just got better. He was hoping to put this off until he saw her in the morning but now that wasn’t an option. “Barry just called me during my shift. What the hell happened?”

“I really can’t add anything,” he said, he wasn’t sure what Barry told her and he wasn’t going to mention the missing body part if he didn’t. “But we’ll find out who did this.”

“Like how you were going put those freaks away for good?”, she snapped.

“Now that’s not fair.”

“I know,” she said a little softer, “I’m sorry. But damn it why can’t they be left alone?”

“I know honey, I know,” he said. “I know the system failed them once, I am not going to let it happen again. You have my word on that.” Now if he only felt confident that they could. Something in the background caught his attention, “Are you still at the hospital?”

“Yeah, something came up for one of the other nurses and I agreed to take their shift like a moron.” Being quiet for a moment she said, “Just get those bastards this time.”

“I’ll do what I can.” Saying their goodbyes he ended the call. He was aware he made roughly the same promise to her when the trial started. And look how that turned out. He should have known when it got fast tracked through the system. Still he was positive he was going to get them off the streets. Looking around for Frank he saw him getting off his phone not looking happy, when it rains it pours. “What do we got now?”

“They found Jones,” he said heading for the exit, “and you ain’t going to believe this one.”

“After what we’ve seen so far tonight?” Frank insisted on walking there since Jones wasn’t that far from the club. Seeing some of the dumps that were called apartment buildings around here he could only imagined where he decided to hole up. Although Jay didn’t know what he was going to do when he saw the punk again. He wanted to punch the smug look off of his face when they got off of the murder charge. Then he saw what was left of Jones in the middle of the street. Jay wasn’t sure if he should be disgusted or find the people responsible and shake their hands.

Frank whistled, “Anybody think this was personal?”

“If it isn’t I’d hate to see what they guy responsible would consider personal,” the coroner said. “Obvious cause of death was the broken neck. I’m assuming the other injury happened before he was killed.” A few of the male officer crossed their legs or winced slightly as he pulled the knife out of the groin area. “Giving the condition of the body I’d say he’s been dead for about a half hour to forty-five minutes.”

“There’s going to be hell to pay when his boys find out,” one of the officers present commented.

“Don’t I know it,” Frank said. “What you think Jay, poetic justice after all huh?”

“Not funny Frank. But something tells me this is only the beginning.”

“You and me both kid, you and me both.”

***

Brad hung around the area for awhile, just waiting. The punk was talking to somebody, he saw it through the bird’s eyes. But any chance of seeing if it was one of his targets was ended when the police swarmed the area. The hunt was done for the night from the look of things so he left. At this point it hit him that he really doesn’t have a place to call home, not anymore. God he needed to think. Not really paying any attention where he was going he walked into an alley that a few homeless were currently using to hang their hat. “Who are you?”, a dirty, weasely looking guy demanded. He looked like he was ready for a fight as he came up to him. Fortunately for him a couple of others tried to talk him down. “He’s invading our territory. We gotta defend it.”

“We don’t have to do anything,” an old black man a little further in told him. Grabbing one of the others by the shoulder they walked forward. “Tell me what he looks like.”

One of the others got in real close, “He looks like a mime.”

“Eh nobody perfect,” he said. “Well stranger my name’s Lou.” He stopped talking, obviously expecting to hear his name. When nothing was coming forth he went on, “A man with nothing to say, I can respect that. Now if you’re here more than likely you’re like us and fallen on hard times. You can stay with us for the time being. But we got one rule, we don’t cause trouble with one another. You follow that and we’ll be just fine.” Lou reached and found his hand before he started shaking it. “Hmm, you feel a tad cold son. Jerry throw some more stuff into the fire.”

“On it,” Jerry said as he quickly found some small pieces of wood to throw into barrel located in the middle of the alley. Lou pushed Brad toward the warmth. He stood by looking at the ever glowing blaze inside of it. Jerry looked up and saw the crow perched nearby. Licking his lips a bit he said, “I think I see dinner just waiting to be plucked.” He jumped after the bird who flew higher up. When he picked up a brick to throw at it he found Brad’s hand wrapped around his throat. “Birds with you got it,” he squeaked out under the vice like grip.

“Let him go!” the weasely one said as he tried to get his friend free. “I said let him go!”

“Enough!” Lou said with an authority that wasn’t there before. Brad snarled a bit before letting Jerry go.

“Kick him out,” weasel said, “kick him out before he kills us!”

“We got off on the wrong foot, seeing how Jerry tried to eat his pet from the sound of things. I’ll let it slid this time.” Weasel protested but Jerry pulled him away before the situation got worse. “Now stranger this is you’re only warning. We look after our own when it comes down to it.”

Brad nodded knowing he couldn’t see and staked out a section of wall by the barrel. Curling up he tried to ignore the memories running at full speed through his head. The others spread out a bit to give him a bit of room. The one Lou was using as a guide pulled out an old beat up harmonica, “Let’s defuse the situation with a little music. Any request?”

“Why doesn’t the new guy pick?” somebody said.

Brad stuck out a hand and put a finger on the walk. He started drawing letters as the guy next to him spoke, “D-O-N-T… don’t… C-A-R… I don’t think he cares man.”

“Artist choice,” he said with a big grin. “My personal favorite.” Bringing the harmonica to his lips a sad melody quickly filled the air. Lou and the others quickly fell under it’s spell, a couple falling asleep. Brad stayed balled up against the wall not showing anything on the outside. On the inside however he tried to retain his sanity as fragmented memories of that night continued to assault him. Through it all he heard the crow continue to squawk at him.

***

The next morning news of Manny’s death quickly spread through the darker corners of the city and to a particular set of ears that lived in a quote unquote ivory tower on the outskirts of the city. To say he wasn’t happy was small understatement to say the least. So much so in fact he called the leader of his personal hit squad to his home. The man wasn’t happy to be awakened so early but he knew to come when the boss called. The man of was greeted at the front door by his assistant, the knock out red head that he loved to see every chance he got. “Angel in the morning how are you?”

Not even faking any interest Angelina told him, “He’s waiting for you 3-Knock.”

Getting so flustered at what she said he didn’t even take the time to admire her from behind as she walked away. “How many times do I have to tell you people to stop calling me 3-Knock?”

“You’re the one who always says you knock three times before you kill somebody while you hunt them. Don’t get all huffy that it stuck,” Angelina told him as she kept on walking.

“I guess that’s why we call you slut since you slept your way to the top. “ She continued walking further into the mansion. “Not even a hint of insult, give me something here. It’s seven in the fucking morning for God sake. I’m not up before noon.”

“I don’t deal with childish banter,” she said. “I have more important things to handle.”

“I imagine you handle something on the boss pretty regularly.” Again she said nothing. “Or does he handle this pretty regularly,” he grabbed a handful of her ass. This time he got a reaction. She quickly spun around and grabbed him by the wrist. She bent his arm back so far he dropped to his knees in pain and the pressure still didn’t let up.

“Now,” she said sweetly, “I can either dislocate your shoulder or break your arm completely. Your choice 3-Knock.”

“Angelina,” Kain said walking down the hall in a white robe, bible in hand. With a disapproving look on his face he added, “What did I say about violence in my home?”

“Don’t stain the hardwood floor,” she said innocently. Kain walked over and freed the man from her grip. She pouted a bit saying, “You never let me have any fun.”

“I let you get away with far too much as it is,” Kain told her. Walking toward his office Angelina and 3-Knock followed. “Tell me Victor, exactly what happened last night night.”

“Finally somebody uses my real name,” 3-Knock muttered. Angelina coughed, indicating Kain was still waiting for an answer. “Manny just ran into the wrong guy last night. Kid probably mouthed off to somebody, probably a nasty son of a bitch.”

“That much is obvious Victor,” Kain said taking a glass of orange juice from a waiting servant. “Do we have any idea who did this yet? While Manny wasn’t an important part of this organization, he was a part of it. I will not suffer any attack while I am preparing for the Lord’s holy war.”

“No idea,” he answered. “He didn’t make any sense when he called me last night.  He kept saying Walker was after him.” Kain nearly dropped the glass on hearing that name. Angelina wasn’t sure if she heard him right either. “I figured he was drunk off his ass or something and was seeing things. I mean that was over a year and a half ago.”

“Yeah,” Angelina agreed quickly. “He must have been seeing things.” Just then Estelle walked past them with a knowing look. “Does that bitch plan this shit or something?”, she muttered.

“Quite,” Kain said regaining his composure. “Thank you Victor. That will be all. Have Maryse make you some breakfast before you leave.” He made some crude comment about eating something off of her as he did.

“Maybe Walker has a twin brother or something,” Angelina said after they were alone. “You know somebody that became unhinged or something after the boys walked free.”

“Nancy would have mentioned it,” he said. “We would have seen him when I buried him.  He would have been at the trial.”

“Maybe they didn’t get along.”

“That is stretching things Angelina.”

“Like a dead man just walking out of his own grave is any more believable?”

“There is more evil in this world that we do not understand,” Kain said. “But until I get some more proof I won’t I believe this particular detail fully.” Heading down another hallway that led to his bedroom he continued, “But do look into Brad’s family tree. He didn’t have any siblings but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a twin in his family somewhere.”

“I’ll get right on it.” Angelina turned around was nearly scared half to death when she saw the old witch right behind her. “Don’t you even start Miss Cleo,” she said pointing a finger in her face before heading off.

***

The morning those who usually inhabited the alley slowly left to do whatever it was they did. Brad stayed behind. He was transfixed on the smoldering embers in the barrel in front of him rubbing the back of his left hand. Something about them wouldn’t let him go. He stared at them for a long time wondering why. Slowly his eyelids lowered as another memory came to him.

<<<>>>

They fireplace had a small glow as the remnants of the fire slowly died out. He didn’t care. He was laying on the floor under a blanket, Nancy snuggled up against him. The cold from outside hadn’t begun to sneak in yet so they were both still comfortable.  “I don’t want to move from this spot ever,” she said.

“Neither do I, but we’d have to go to work eventually,” he told her.

“You might have to,” she teased, “but some of us are set for life.” It took a few months, and after they moved in together, before he found out exactly how wealthy her brother actually was. She wanted to make sure he was interested in her and not her bank account. Nancy usually never brought it up, never to throw it in his face. Just in playful moments like this. “But don’t worry because I love you I’ll find you a dog house or something you can live in.”

“You’re so thoughtful.” He pulled her closer, “But I’m drawing the line at a leash.”

“You sure? I can get you a diamond studded one you can wear at parties.”

“Then I’d be living off you, you know that’s not my style.”

“A trait I’m extremely grateful you have.”

<<<>>>

He remembered that they made love that night. But that memory was shattered by her screaming. Brad eyes snapped open and looked around. He found the crow nearby looking at him, mocking him.

His temper getting the best of him he grabbed a bottle and hurled it at the bird who just flew away laughing at him for being that weak. Brad knew he had a mission but let him relive those quiet moments just for what left of his sanity if nothing else.

***

“This one’s for Smallfry,” Victor said as he and his companions held up a glass in toast. Kain gave them a bottle of his private stock for the occasion. Truth be told it was probably too good for his memory. But free booze was free booze and he wasn’t going to argue the matter. Nobody else in the bar was going to argue about it any way.

Slamming down his glass on top of the table a white guy in a red leather jacket with black stripes demanded, “When are we going to get that son of a bitch responsible? Nobody does this to one of us.”

“Easy Thriller, easy,” the black guy next to him said. “Going in without a plan is not how we do things.”

“Big Ben’s right,” Victor told him. “We don’t even know who’s responsible. All we got is Manny’s last call and that made no sense what so ever.”

“Seriously,” Big Ben said pouring himself another drink. “How out of it do you have to be see a dead man coming after you?”

“Dead or not I say we find this fucker and do to him what he did to Smallfry,” Thriller insisted.

“We don’t even know if it’s one guy,” Big Ben argued. “And Godman still wants us to find out who dug up that body. “

“Walker’s body,” Victor said somberly. Pouring and downing another drink he wiped his mouth saying, “Something tells me the same sick bastards behind both. He dug up Walker to make us think he came back from the grave or some shit.”

“What does Estelle think?”, Thriller asked. They both gave him crap for asking it. “Hey she’s been right about this freaky shit before.”

“I didn’t even want to ask,” Victor said downing another drink. “She’d say it some voodoo shit or something. But Godman’s gonna let us loose the moment he finds out who’s responsible. Then we can ’vent’ to our heart’s content.”

“Hell to the yeah baby,” Thriller said as Victor refilled their glasses with what was left in the bottle.

“You know it,” Big Ben agreed. They clinked glasses and slammed down what was left down their throats. “Thriller’s right about one thing, nobody fucks with us.”

“And we’re going to show them why,” Victor added.

***

The sun started to set as the other came back. A few gave him a quizzical or confused look as he choose then to leave the alley. He didn’t care he had a mission to finish. The crow went off ahead of him as he kept to the shadows and rooftops as much as possible.  Even in the alley he heard word that the police were looking for somebody in clown makeup for a murder last night. Weasel gave him a weird look after he heard. Well weirder than usual. He’d stop seeing them after he was done any way.

Going a few blocks in one direction he came to a stop when he saw a building in the distance. The crow cawed at him again, urging him to keep going. But something about it grabbed his attention and wasn’t letting go. He knew that building from somewhere and it was bugging him like nothing ever bugged him before. The crow cawed louder as he took a step toward it, trying to stop him but he kept going. The closer he got the more he recognized it. The entire time that damn bird kept flying in his path, trying to get him to look elsewhere, go elsewhere, but that building was drawing him like a beacon. Standing across the street it hit him he used to live here, they used to live here. He could see the moving truck with her belongings sitting out front. He, Nancy and a blond woman around the same age as her, Sharron… it was her friend Sharron.

Almost getting hit by a couple of cars as he crossed the street he saw the crow sit above the doorway. It sounded out one more warning that he ignored. Phantoms from his head came at him like a title wave. The night Brad first brought her here. When they talked they landlord into adding her to the lease and how excited they were when she agreed. People saw him in the hallway as he made his way up, but he was too caught up to really see them. Several flights up he saw another echo by a door. Nancy jumping in his arms and he carried her across the threshold. He went to that door and grabbed the handle but it was locked. He tried to force the door open but it wouldn’t budge. “Whoever you are I’m going to call the cops if you don’t stop it!”, somebody said on the other side. Getting angry that somebody was in there, in his home, he backed up and kicked the door in. “Holy shit,” a man roughly older than him quickly backed away.

A woman grabbed their child and cowered in the corner. In the hallway people came out to see what was going on. Brad saw none of it. He saw things as they were a year and a half ago as he walked in. How the furniture was arranged, how the walls was painted. He stopped in front of where their couch used to be.

<<<>>>

It had been a long day at the studio and he held an arm over his eyes as he lay on the couch. His moment of peace was interrupted as he felt somebody take hold of his left hand. He looked and saw Nancy with a pen in her hand. She smiled at him, he gave her a tired smile in return. Without a word he scooted over a bit to give her some room. Then she started drawing on the back of his hand. First a circle, then she started drawing some kind of weird symbols on the inside of it. “What are you doing?”

“Drawing a love seal,” she said as she continued. “Sharron showed me how before we met. I drew one on my hand already. It means we’re going to be with each other forever.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that. Unless you decided I’m getting too old for you and stick me in an old folk’s home and look for a younger model.” It was a joke about their roughly ten year age difference. Usually she’d have said something right back. This time she continued drawing, not even looking at him. And from what he could see of her expression worried him a little. Rising up a bit he asked, “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah,” she said sounding a little distant. “I… I have to tell you something but I’m not sure how.”

Putting an arm around her he said, “Well just telling me usually works.” She still wouldn’t look at him. Placing a finger under chin to lift her head up he told her, “You know you can tell me anything. What’s wrong?” She started to answer but a knock at the door interrupted her. “Just a minute!”, he shouted out more out of habit than anything else. Then came a louder knock, three of them. “Hold on,” he said as he got up.

“Brad they can wait,” she said grabbing his arm. Whoever it was knocked again. “I’m trying to tell you something.”

“I know but…,” should he tell her? “I bought you something off of home shopping a couple of week back. It should have been here already and I’m hoping this is it. It’s a really tacky necklace.”

“I’m loving it already,” she said leaning on the back of the couch.

“It’ll probably turn your neck green.”

“You bought it for me that’s all that matters.” Another three knocks echoed in the room.

“This is the pushiest delivery guy I’ve ever seen,” he commented as he unlocked the door. The moment he turned the handle it was kicked in knocking him back.

“Brad!”, Nancy yelled the moment it happened.

“Three knocks,” a Japanese guy announced as he entered, “that means you’re dead.” He tried to get up but some young punk kicked him in the head.

<<<>>>

Brad felt the kick all over again, his reaction scared the family even more. Outside the neighbors were frantically calling the police. He turned to the hallway leading to the bedroom. He saw them grab Nancy and drag her back there while the punk and the white guy in the red leather jacket held him down. She screamed for him. He felt the hopelessness all over again as he couldn’t stop them.

<<<>>>

“Dude let me get a piece of that,” he said as he tried to make his way into the bedroom where the screaming woman was. The black guy pushed him back into the hallway. “Dude what the fuck?”

“Nut in something you don’t have to blow up first,” he joked over the screams. The kid try to get in again but again they denied him. “What did I just tell you?”

“Fuck you,” the kid said. Leaning against the wall he got frustrated. Finally going, “fuck it,” he unzipped his pants and started jacking himself off to the scene in the bedroom.

“Shit that’s disgusting Smallfry,” the Japanese guy said. The woman tried not to laugh at what he was using.

“Come on,” the kid grunted ignoring them. “Give it to that bitch. Make her scream fucking louder. Make me feel it.” He was staring at all them with hate in his eyes.

<<<>>>

Brad looked around the room. The memory echo of woman that was with them walked around knocking over picture or breaking them out right. She picked up one in particular, said some like how sweet then gently put it on the ground and drove the heel of her boot through the glass. Brad frightened the family even more as he put his hands over his ears trying to quiet the screaming in his head.

<<<>>>

“Next”, the Japanese guy said as he came out zipping up his pants. The guy in the red jacket got off of him and rushed in. The screaming started all over again.

“Leave her alone!!”, he demanded as he struggled harder to get away. But the piss ant was stronger than he looked. The woman walked up to him and cupped is face.

“Don’t worry baby,” she said sweetly. “It’ll be all over before you know it.”

After what seemed like forever red jacket came back out, “Damn that’s a tight piece of ass.”

“We’ll see about that,” the black guy said as the white guy went back to holding him down.

“Please tell me you’re hitting that every night,” he said in his ear. “Because it be a crime not to.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you!”, Brad yelled at him. He and the punk just laughed. They decided to use him as a makeshift punching bag to keep him quiet.

<<<>>>

He recoiled from a memory of another kick. The kid was bawling at this point asking what was wrong with him. His mother tried to keep him quiet afraid the stranger would snap and kill them. The husband found his courage finally and tried to attack him. Brad easily knocked him away as he walked backwards. Right to the spot they were holding him down.

<<<>>>

“All right boys you had your fun,” the woman said as she approached the hallway. “And I’m officially bored now. Big Ben hold her legs open.”

“Getting a little action yourself,” the Japanese guy said sticking his fingers by his mouth and wiggling his tongue.

“Not exactly,” she said as she reached into his coat. When her hand came out she was holding a strange looking knife. Looking him in the eyes she brought it to her mouth and licked it. “Godman sent us to do a job. It’s time to finish it.”

“Stone cold bitch,” he said, “that’s why I love her.”

“What do you want,” he heard Nancy cry weakly. “What are you…? No… don’t… BRAD!!” she started screaming again.

“STOP IT!! LEAVE HER ALONE!!!” He struggled harder to get free but they held on tighter.

“You know what,” the Japanese guy said as he walked over pulling out another knife. Grabbing him by the hair he said, “I’m sick of hearing you.” Brad struggled as his grip his face but he held on tight. Before long he forced his mouth open and he stuck the knife in. With a look of sick glee as he choked out a scream he cut out his tongue and did more damage to his throat as his screaming came to a stop. “Fucking finally,” he said as he removed the knife. The punk kicked his tongue to the other side of the room laughing. Blood pouring out of his mouth the last thing he remembered was Nancy still screaming.

<<<>>>

Oh God he remembered everything. This was why the bird tried to stop him, he knew he couldn’t handle this. Hands clutching at his head he squatted down trying to do anything to get her screaming to stop.

***

SciKaiju

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