Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ ZER0 ❯ Greed ( Chapter 4 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Vinyl-Koneko 
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Thriller / Suspense / Psychological / Police / Drama / Angst / Adventure / Action | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 04.11.2002 | Updated On: 10.14.2002 | Pages: 4 | Words: 2.9K | Visits: 436 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Thriller / Suspense / Psychological / Police / Drama / Angst / Adventure / Action | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 04.11.2002 | Updated On: 10.14.2002 | Pages: 4 | Words: 2.9K | Visits: 436 | Status: Completed
Title: ZER0 - Part 5 - Greed
Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net
Rating: R
Warnings: language, angst, death, blood, gruesome stuff, now improved with a yaoi flavor!
Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. I just like to play with them and make them play with each other.
Comments: *Emphasis*, 'thought', [flashback], //lyrics//, /written/. Greed is the Fifth Deadly Sin and is defined as the excessive desire to possess more than what one deserves. This part is for Katu who had the balls to tell me that I needed more character interraction and development. I might not have improved in this part, but I know that there are upcoming parts that have gargantuan windows of opportunity. Thanks for the feedback! ^_~ Song is "Deer Dance" courtesy of System of a Down from the album Toxicity, BTW. That song totally got me through this part, so just accept it, okay?
*~**~*
January 25, 201 AC
*~**~*
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!" To say that Duo took the news well was a complete lie. "How the hell do you manage to nab a guy when he hasn't been booked before? Seriel killers don't just come out of the fucking woodwork! They normally start out small and lead *up* to seriel killings, not the other fucking way around!"
"Duo?"
"WHAT?!"
"Maybe you should calm down a little...before someone gets hurt," Quatre tried to suggest, but Duo was beyond listening in his rampage, ripping through photographs and reports as if a clue would magically appear.
"Duo, yamete kudasai before you ruin the information on what little evidence we have..." Duo toned out the rest of whatever lecture Heero planned to give. 'Evan Gail...Paul Lucas...an entire homeless shelter and everyone who was in it at the time...'
["Hero worship, maybe..."]
["...he was supposed to blow up Headquarters this afternoon around 1430."]
[/Shit AddS UP At thE bOttOM/]
'Why can't we put the pieces together? There has to be some pattern...some reason these particular people were chosen...'
["...Normally a seriel killer would be giving more clues as we went along; it would want to see how many kills it could get in before getting caught, but we aren't getting anything besides the occasional graffiti..."]
"...you're not helping *anyone* by just standing around here and complaining!"
Duo whirled around, violet eyes wide swirling with surprise and his braid whipping around angrily like an animal trying to be rid of its confining leash. "What?"
"Duo..." Quatre interjected calmly, "Heero's right. You need to calm down and then you'll be able to think more clearly."
"How am I supposed to calm down? We're supposed to be at *peace* right now. Peace! How many people have died so far? Tell me! How many people have died?"
"Sixty-two," Heero supplied, "and more will follow if you don't keep your head on straight."
[/dRiVEN bY hAtE - CONSUMEd bY fEAR/]
Duo looked around desperately. 'They can't be this calm about it; not after all that they've been through; not after all we have fought so hard and risked so much to achieve...' Neither Quatre's level-headedness nor Heero's glaring intensity offered the sympathy Duo sought, so he spun on his heel and hurried out of the room, not catching the glance exchanged between his Arabic and Japanese friends.
*~**~*
Duo got to the vending machine in record time, digging fifty cents out of his pocket. If he couldn't physically destroy anything, crunching on a bag of chips seemed to be the best he could do before returning to his apartment. Of course, like all vending machines, this one has a twisted sense of humor and the bag of Barbecue Lays got stuck. This rewarded the machine several kicks to the plastic window, knocking around several items until the chips fell on the seventh kick[1]. Not noticing that his snack had fallen already and beyond the point of caring, Duo kept placing solid kicks on the plastic surface until it cracked and eventually shattered under the onslaught. The American caught movement out of the corner of his eye and saw a pale reflection in the remaining pieces of the window on the machine.
"What is it, Heero?" he ground out through clenched teeth, still wishing there was something else to break in the general vicinity.
"You seem upset."
Duo snorted. "*That's* the understatement of the century."
"You want to talk about it?" Duo opened his eyes, not even realizing he had closed them. Heero's voice seemed softer, and for the first time since before the seriel killings started, Heero seemed to be acting, well, human.
Duo stood silent for a moment. 'He *is* offering to listen, and it will probably make me feel a hell of a lot better to get the weight off my back. I just don't want Heero going to Une and requesting me to be assigned somewhere else. I know what's going on here, but I just can't put my finger on it!' "People are dying needlessly," he began in a hoarse whisper. "We fought so hard so others wouldn't have to fight and die, but now, people are still dying. I know everybody dies eventually, but all these victims were innocent - well...except for Lucas, at least. They don't deserve it. I thought the vice of Shinigami would just disappear when the war ended, but it would seem that it's a title I will have to bear until I reach my own end."
"You aren't Shinigami. If you were, you'd be the one that killed all those people." Duo couldn't help but feel touched. Heero's words may have been simple, but they seemed to be just what Duo needed to hear.
He took on a manic grin. "Neh, Heero? How do you know that I'm *not* killing all those people? I could really be an insomniac, and everytime I think that I'm sleeping, I'm really awake but in the form of another persona that was created by my mind, and only *I'm* convinced that it's a totally separate person!"
"Baka," the Japanese man replied, a slight smirk on his face. "That movie isn't healthy."
"Aw, you're just jealous because I love it more than you!"
"Duo, shut up."
*~**~*
January 28, 201 AC
*~**~*
Duo was running late again. It really hadn't been his fault this time, too. The bus broke down, so that particular route wouldn't be running until they could free up another bus; Duo called the cab, but once it got within three miles of headquarters traffic thickened and wasn't going anywhere for a long time, so he decided it would be faster to get out of the cab and walk. Unfortunately Duo had anticipated that he was closer than he actually had been and had to start running in order to be some semblence of on-time, but he was still going to be late.
The sidewalks were crowded, but at least they moved faster than the cars honking angrily on the street. Duo looked at the traffic, whistling with relief that he wasn't stuck in it. 'They're probably filling a pothole up ahead. About damn time, too.' Duo looked forward in time to see a man whose face was obstructed behind the bill of a Yankees[2] cap right before plowing into the man.
Duo reflexively grabbed the man's shoulder to steady them. "Whoa, sorry. I completely spaced out for a second! Are you okay?"
//circumventing circuses
lamenting in protest
to visible police
presence sponsored fear
battalions of riot police
with rubber bullet kisses
baton courtesy
service with a smile//
The man smirked out from under his cap, but Duo still couldn't see any of his features. "It's perfectly all right. I'm fine, and I should have been paying better attention, so it's partially my fault. Now, if you'll excuse me, but I'm in a hurry." The man continued walking before Duo could say anything else. "And I'll see you soon, Agent Maxwell."
Duo spun around to face the stranger, shock clearly evident on the former-pilot's features, but the man was nowhere to be seen. The motion of the crowd eventually started to push Duo towards Preventers HQ, and he was left speechless and wondering who, exactly, he had walked into, what he meant, and whether or not it really was an accident.
//beyond the staples center you can see america
with it's tired, poor, avenging disgrace
peaceful, loving youth against the brutality
of plastic exisistence//
"Guys...you will *not* believe what just ha-" Duo took one look at the scene confronting him and walked right back out of the room. "I can tell already...this is just going to be one of those days..."
"Well you could have knocked!" came a slightly dampened shout from the enclosed room.
Duo leaned against the wall wearing an expression that seemed to say I-know-all-your-dirty-little-secrets, smirk and all. "I've come to expect a lot of things in my life, and even though I may have been suspecting this one for a *long* time, I didn't expect to be bringing it up anytime soon."
The door swung open followed by a red-tinged Quatre accompanied by an amused yet sheepish looking Trowa. "Is it too much to ask for some *privacy* around here?" Duo felt a little bad, but only a little. His Arab friend looked like he was about to explode.
"Hate to burst your bubble, Q, but this is an *office* building, not a hotel! So...just out of curiosity...about how long has this been going on for, if I may ask?" Duo was having quite the time pestering the pair.
"Um...about five years," Quatre seemed to have a sudden interest in the standard-issue Preventers jacket he was wearing.
"Five *years*! Sweet! It looks like Wufei *and* Heero owe me a little money..."
"You had a bet going," Trowa didn't seem surprised at all. 'Of course, the guy doesn't seem to be surprised by much, does he? Hey, I'm glad for them...that's three hundred dollars for me.'
"What is all the yelling about?"
"Hey, Wufei, you gotta pay up now; I totally won the bet!"
The Chinese man blinked twice before turning his attention to Trowa and Quatre. "Since after the war, huh?" He looked at Trowa specifically. "You could ask Une to transfer you to L-4 to be closer."
Trowa shrugged. "Quatre has a plan."
Quatre smiled not-too-innocently in Duo's direction. "So, Wufei, what's the pool on Heero and Duo up to?"
"WHAT?!"
"Duo, what is it now? You're audible three floors down."
The braided man blanched, hoping that Heero hadn't heard what Quatre just said. "N-Nothing! Well, wait, yeah, there was something, but then I got...distracted..."
//pushing little children
with their fully automatics
they like to push the weak around
pushing little children
with their fully automatics
they like to push the weak around//
Duo told them about how he was late and ended up running to Headquarters right up until he walked into the strange man and the events that followed. "Weird, huh?"
"Was there anything distinguishable?" Trowa asked, grabbing a pen and notepad from the conference room table in case there was anything Duo could come up with.
"Um...he was wearing a Yankees cap."
Quatre pinched the bridge of his nose. "Duo...it's New York. *Everyone* wears a Yankees cap!"
The amethyst-eyed American held his hands up defensively. "Hey, don't yell at me, it was all I could distinguish! The hat was covering the guy's face! He seemed to be about Wufei's size but with a smaller build, but that's all I can tell you!"
"Don't worry about it," Heero said, standing up to leave. "It was probably nothing."
*~**~*
January 31, 201 AC
*~**~*
//a rush of words
pleading to disperse
upon your naked walls, alive
a political call
the fall guy accord
we can't afford to be neutral on a moving train//
The chief of police was leading the five former-Gundam pilots through one of the ritzier homes in New York City. "Victim was 42-years-old, a Miss Magdalena Thompson, formerly known as Mrs Magdalena DuBois. The divorce settlement between her and her husband was settled well over seven years ago, granting her former-husband full custody of their three children, but she was still expected to pay child support which, according to reports, she didn't.
"The scene of the crime is pretty morbid; the only way we could tell it was her was through the neighbors because we weren't able to get in someone to look at her teeth without disturbing the crime scene."
"Was she burnt?" Trowa asked.
"Well...let's put it this way. I've seen cows coming out of a butcher shop in less pieces than this. With more skin, at that. Her eyes seem to be missing, though, which is a little strange, but if there were rats in the house they would have gone for the eyes first." Duo had to repress a shudder at the thought. "Well, you can go see her if you want to, but it isn't a pretty sight."
//beyond the staples center you can see america
with it's tired, poor, avenging disgrace
peaceful, loving youth against the brutality
of plastic exisistence//
Duo stayed back. "You said she didn't pay child support?"
"That's what her childrens' father said."
"But she could afford this house? That doesn't make sense..."
"We were going to look around but decided to leave that to you Preventers people."
Duo looked up in time to see Quatre going through all the closets, cabinets, and boxes he could find. "Hey, Duo...why wouldn't she give money to her own children?"
He shrugged. "Anger. Revenge. Or maybe she was a real Scrooge." Duo tilted his head. "Why? What'd you find?" Quatre tossed something in Duo's direction, and he caught it easily, eyes widening at what it was. "Quatre? This is a three inch stack of hundred dollar bills."
"I know. There's a lot more of them, too, in different denominations."
//pushing little children
with their fully automatics
they like to push the weak around
pushing little children
with their fully automatics
they like to push the weak around//
"She could *definitely* afford to pay the child support. I bet this is all stolen money; there isn't really any other explanation for where it all came from... Unless she sold drugs on the streets, but still, this is ridiculous. I don't think I'll see this much money in cash ever!"
"Wufei's still taking pictures," Heero informed them as he and Trowa walked back into the kitchen-dining area of the house.
"What's it look like?" Quatre asked, Duo noting how he had said *it* instead of *she*, probably detaching himself from the victim. 'I already know he can't go in there or his Space Heart will be on overload, but would he really need to separate himself from a victim even though she was a big enough bitch to not send money to her own kids?'
Trowa and Heero exchanged a glance before Trowa continued. "I doubt I'll be able to eat pulled pork ever again."
Quatre winced, motioning to one of the several shoeboxes full of money. "Our killer left behind all of this."
//push them around
a deer dance, invitation to peace
war staring you in the face, dressed in black
with a helmet, fierce
trained and appropriate for the malcontents
for the disproportioned malcontents
the little boy smiled, it'll all be well
and see the little boy smiled, it'll all be well//
Wufei emerged from the living room, placing the lens cap back on the camera. "I'm having salad for dinner tonight. We should let forensics take over from here; they'll be able to find the little details since we got the big ones. You tell them our theory?"
Duo blinked. "Tell who what theory?"
"The killer didn't use a knife," Heero replied, disgust most evident on his otherwise indifferent features. "Based on the serrations on the muscle, bone, and organs, it looks more like an electric turkey carver."
"Great," Duo's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Just great. It's bad enough it smells like a dead body in here, but after I look at those pictures I'll *never* be able to eat a nice, juicy dead animal again not to mention that there's letters on the refridgerator spelling out a message and it's *really* freaking me out!"
//pushing little children
with their fully automatics
they like to push the weak around//
/dEARESt PilOtS,
i'M SO PlEASEd tO SEE YOU tAkiNG PARt iN MY littlE GAME, ANd i thOUGht thAt YOU ShOUld All kNOW thAt i hAVE ENCOUNtEREd EACh ANd EVERY ONE Of YOU WithiN thE PASt WEEk. it'S NiCE tO kNOW thAt thE PRESENtS i'M lEAViNG bEhinD AREN't GOiNG tO WAStE. i'M POSitiVE thAt YOU hAVE fiGUREd OUt MY PAttERN, bUt i dOUbt YOU'VE lEARNEd MY SElECtiON PROCESS, SO JUSt tO bE SAfE, i'M RESChEdUliNG thE NEXt SEVERAl WEEkS tO fiNd WAYS Of ENliGhtENiNG YOU dEAR PilOts.
UNtil WE MEEt AGAiN.../
//pushing little children
with their fully automatics
they like to push the weak around
pushing little children
with their fully automatics
they like to push the weak around
pushing little children
with their fully automatics
they like to push the weak around
push the weak around
push the weak around
push the weak around
they like to push the weak around//
*~**~*
End Part 5
[1] Don't you hate it when that happens? I know the ones at school are incompetent and a ripoff. It's a dollar for a bag of gummy bears and half the time they get stuck.
[2] Ahhh! It's the Curse of the Bambino still! Ahhhh! ::is a Red Sox fan::
Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net
Rating: R
Warnings: language, angst, death, blood, gruesome stuff, now improved with a yaoi flavor!
Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. I just like to play with them and make them play with each other.
Comments: *Emphasis*, 'thought', [flashback], //lyrics//, /written/. Greed is the Fifth Deadly Sin and is defined as the excessive desire to possess more than what one deserves. This part is for Katu who had the balls to tell me that I needed more character interraction and development. I might not have improved in this part, but I know that there are upcoming parts that have gargantuan windows of opportunity. Thanks for the feedback! ^_~ Song is "Deer Dance" courtesy of System of a Down from the album Toxicity, BTW. That song totally got me through this part, so just accept it, okay?
*~**~*
January 25, 201 AC
*~**~*
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!" To say that Duo took the news well was a complete lie. "How the hell do you manage to nab a guy when he hasn't been booked before? Seriel killers don't just come out of the fucking woodwork! They normally start out small and lead *up* to seriel killings, not the other fucking way around!"
"Duo?"
"WHAT?!"
"Maybe you should calm down a little...before someone gets hurt," Quatre tried to suggest, but Duo was beyond listening in his rampage, ripping through photographs and reports as if a clue would magically appear.
"Duo, yamete kudasai before you ruin the information on what little evidence we have..." Duo toned out the rest of whatever lecture Heero planned to give. 'Evan Gail...Paul Lucas...an entire homeless shelter and everyone who was in it at the time...'
["Hero worship, maybe..."]
["...he was supposed to blow up Headquarters this afternoon around 1430."]
[/Shit AddS UP At thE bOttOM/]
'Why can't we put the pieces together? There has to be some pattern...some reason these particular people were chosen...'
["...Normally a seriel killer would be giving more clues as we went along; it would want to see how many kills it could get in before getting caught, but we aren't getting anything besides the occasional graffiti..."]
"...you're not helping *anyone* by just standing around here and complaining!"
Duo whirled around, violet eyes wide swirling with surprise and his braid whipping around angrily like an animal trying to be rid of its confining leash. "What?"
"Duo..." Quatre interjected calmly, "Heero's right. You need to calm down and then you'll be able to think more clearly."
"How am I supposed to calm down? We're supposed to be at *peace* right now. Peace! How many people have died so far? Tell me! How many people have died?"
"Sixty-two," Heero supplied, "and more will follow if you don't keep your head on straight."
[/dRiVEN bY hAtE - CONSUMEd bY fEAR/]
Duo looked around desperately. 'They can't be this calm about it; not after all that they've been through; not after all we have fought so hard and risked so much to achieve...' Neither Quatre's level-headedness nor Heero's glaring intensity offered the sympathy Duo sought, so he spun on his heel and hurried out of the room, not catching the glance exchanged between his Arabic and Japanese friends.
*~**~*
Duo got to the vending machine in record time, digging fifty cents out of his pocket. If he couldn't physically destroy anything, crunching on a bag of chips seemed to be the best he could do before returning to his apartment. Of course, like all vending machines, this one has a twisted sense of humor and the bag of Barbecue Lays got stuck. This rewarded the machine several kicks to the plastic window, knocking around several items until the chips fell on the seventh kick[1]. Not noticing that his snack had fallen already and beyond the point of caring, Duo kept placing solid kicks on the plastic surface until it cracked and eventually shattered under the onslaught. The American caught movement out of the corner of his eye and saw a pale reflection in the remaining pieces of the window on the machine.
"What is it, Heero?" he ground out through clenched teeth, still wishing there was something else to break in the general vicinity.
"You seem upset."
Duo snorted. "*That's* the understatement of the century."
"You want to talk about it?" Duo opened his eyes, not even realizing he had closed them. Heero's voice seemed softer, and for the first time since before the seriel killings started, Heero seemed to be acting, well, human.
Duo stood silent for a moment. 'He *is* offering to listen, and it will probably make me feel a hell of a lot better to get the weight off my back. I just don't want Heero going to Une and requesting me to be assigned somewhere else. I know what's going on here, but I just can't put my finger on it!' "People are dying needlessly," he began in a hoarse whisper. "We fought so hard so others wouldn't have to fight and die, but now, people are still dying. I know everybody dies eventually, but all these victims were innocent - well...except for Lucas, at least. They don't deserve it. I thought the vice of Shinigami would just disappear when the war ended, but it would seem that it's a title I will have to bear until I reach my own end."
"You aren't Shinigami. If you were, you'd be the one that killed all those people." Duo couldn't help but feel touched. Heero's words may have been simple, but they seemed to be just what Duo needed to hear.
He took on a manic grin. "Neh, Heero? How do you know that I'm *not* killing all those people? I could really be an insomniac, and everytime I think that I'm sleeping, I'm really awake but in the form of another persona that was created by my mind, and only *I'm* convinced that it's a totally separate person!"
"Baka," the Japanese man replied, a slight smirk on his face. "That movie isn't healthy."
"Aw, you're just jealous because I love it more than you!"
"Duo, shut up."
*~**~*
January 28, 201 AC
*~**~*
Duo was running late again. It really hadn't been his fault this time, too. The bus broke down, so that particular route wouldn't be running until they could free up another bus; Duo called the cab, but once it got within three miles of headquarters traffic thickened and wasn't going anywhere for a long time, so he decided it would be faster to get out of the cab and walk. Unfortunately Duo had anticipated that he was closer than he actually had been and had to start running in order to be some semblence of on-time, but he was still going to be late.
The sidewalks were crowded, but at least they moved faster than the cars honking angrily on the street. Duo looked at the traffic, whistling with relief that he wasn't stuck in it. 'They're probably filling a pothole up ahead. About damn time, too.' Duo looked forward in time to see a man whose face was obstructed behind the bill of a Yankees[2] cap right before plowing into the man.
Duo reflexively grabbed the man's shoulder to steady them. "Whoa, sorry. I completely spaced out for a second! Are you okay?"
//circumventing circuses
lamenting in protest
to visible police
presence sponsored fear
battalions of riot police
with rubber bullet kisses
baton courtesy
service with a smile//
The man smirked out from under his cap, but Duo still couldn't see any of his features. "It's perfectly all right. I'm fine, and I should have been paying better attention, so it's partially my fault. Now, if you'll excuse me, but I'm in a hurry." The man continued walking before Duo could say anything else. "And I'll see you soon, Agent Maxwell."
Duo spun around to face the stranger, shock clearly evident on the former-pilot's features, but the man was nowhere to be seen. The motion of the crowd eventually started to push Duo towards Preventers HQ, and he was left speechless and wondering who, exactly, he had walked into, what he meant, and whether or not it really was an accident.
//beyond the staples center you can see america
with it's tired, poor, avenging disgrace
peaceful, loving youth against the brutality
of plastic exisistence//
"Guys...you will *not* believe what just ha-" Duo took one look at the scene confronting him and walked right back out of the room. "I can tell already...this is just going to be one of those days..."
"Well you could have knocked!" came a slightly dampened shout from the enclosed room.
Duo leaned against the wall wearing an expression that seemed to say I-know-all-your-dirty-little-secrets, smirk and all. "I've come to expect a lot of things in my life, and even though I may have been suspecting this one for a *long* time, I didn't expect to be bringing it up anytime soon."
The door swung open followed by a red-tinged Quatre accompanied by an amused yet sheepish looking Trowa. "Is it too much to ask for some *privacy* around here?" Duo felt a little bad, but only a little. His Arab friend looked like he was about to explode.
"Hate to burst your bubble, Q, but this is an *office* building, not a hotel! So...just out of curiosity...about how long has this been going on for, if I may ask?" Duo was having quite the time pestering the pair.
"Um...about five years," Quatre seemed to have a sudden interest in the standard-issue Preventers jacket he was wearing.
"Five *years*! Sweet! It looks like Wufei *and* Heero owe me a little money..."
"You had a bet going," Trowa didn't seem surprised at all. 'Of course, the guy doesn't seem to be surprised by much, does he? Hey, I'm glad for them...that's three hundred dollars for me.'
"What is all the yelling about?"
"Hey, Wufei, you gotta pay up now; I totally won the bet!"
The Chinese man blinked twice before turning his attention to Trowa and Quatre. "Since after the war, huh?" He looked at Trowa specifically. "You could ask Une to transfer you to L-4 to be closer."
Trowa shrugged. "Quatre has a plan."
Quatre smiled not-too-innocently in Duo's direction. "So, Wufei, what's the pool on Heero and Duo up to?"
"WHAT?!"
"Duo, what is it now? You're audible three floors down."
The braided man blanched, hoping that Heero hadn't heard what Quatre just said. "N-Nothing! Well, wait, yeah, there was something, but then I got...distracted..."
//pushing little children
with their fully automatics
they like to push the weak around
pushing little children
with their fully automatics
they like to push the weak around//
Duo told them about how he was late and ended up running to Headquarters right up until he walked into the strange man and the events that followed. "Weird, huh?"
"Was there anything distinguishable?" Trowa asked, grabbing a pen and notepad from the conference room table in case there was anything Duo could come up with.
"Um...he was wearing a Yankees cap."
Quatre pinched the bridge of his nose. "Duo...it's New York. *Everyone* wears a Yankees cap!"
The amethyst-eyed American held his hands up defensively. "Hey, don't yell at me, it was all I could distinguish! The hat was covering the guy's face! He seemed to be about Wufei's size but with a smaller build, but that's all I can tell you!"
"Don't worry about it," Heero said, standing up to leave. "It was probably nothing."
*~**~*
January 31, 201 AC
*~**~*
//a rush of words
pleading to disperse
upon your naked walls, alive
a political call
the fall guy accord
we can't afford to be neutral on a moving train//
The chief of police was leading the five former-Gundam pilots through one of the ritzier homes in New York City. "Victim was 42-years-old, a Miss Magdalena Thompson, formerly known as Mrs Magdalena DuBois. The divorce settlement between her and her husband was settled well over seven years ago, granting her former-husband full custody of their three children, but she was still expected to pay child support which, according to reports, she didn't.
"The scene of the crime is pretty morbid; the only way we could tell it was her was through the neighbors because we weren't able to get in someone to look at her teeth without disturbing the crime scene."
"Was she burnt?" Trowa asked.
"Well...let's put it this way. I've seen cows coming out of a butcher shop in less pieces than this. With more skin, at that. Her eyes seem to be missing, though, which is a little strange, but if there were rats in the house they would have gone for the eyes first." Duo had to repress a shudder at the thought. "Well, you can go see her if you want to, but it isn't a pretty sight."
//beyond the staples center you can see america
with it's tired, poor, avenging disgrace
peaceful, loving youth against the brutality
of plastic exisistence//
Duo stayed back. "You said she didn't pay child support?"
"That's what her childrens' father said."
"But she could afford this house? That doesn't make sense..."
"We were going to look around but decided to leave that to you Preventers people."
Duo looked up in time to see Quatre going through all the closets, cabinets, and boxes he could find. "Hey, Duo...why wouldn't she give money to her own children?"
He shrugged. "Anger. Revenge. Or maybe she was a real Scrooge." Duo tilted his head. "Why? What'd you find?" Quatre tossed something in Duo's direction, and he caught it easily, eyes widening at what it was. "Quatre? This is a three inch stack of hundred dollar bills."
"I know. There's a lot more of them, too, in different denominations."
//pushing little children
with their fully automatics
they like to push the weak around
pushing little children
with their fully automatics
they like to push the weak around//
"She could *definitely* afford to pay the child support. I bet this is all stolen money; there isn't really any other explanation for where it all came from... Unless she sold drugs on the streets, but still, this is ridiculous. I don't think I'll see this much money in cash ever!"
"Wufei's still taking pictures," Heero informed them as he and Trowa walked back into the kitchen-dining area of the house.
"What's it look like?" Quatre asked, Duo noting how he had said *it* instead of *she*, probably detaching himself from the victim. 'I already know he can't go in there or his Space Heart will be on overload, but would he really need to separate himself from a victim even though she was a big enough bitch to not send money to her own kids?'
Trowa and Heero exchanged a glance before Trowa continued. "I doubt I'll be able to eat pulled pork ever again."
Quatre winced, motioning to one of the several shoeboxes full of money. "Our killer left behind all of this."
//push them around
a deer dance, invitation to peace
war staring you in the face, dressed in black
with a helmet, fierce
trained and appropriate for the malcontents
for the disproportioned malcontents
the little boy smiled, it'll all be well
and see the little boy smiled, it'll all be well//
Wufei emerged from the living room, placing the lens cap back on the camera. "I'm having salad for dinner tonight. We should let forensics take over from here; they'll be able to find the little details since we got the big ones. You tell them our theory?"
Duo blinked. "Tell who what theory?"
"The killer didn't use a knife," Heero replied, disgust most evident on his otherwise indifferent features. "Based on the serrations on the muscle, bone, and organs, it looks more like an electric turkey carver."
"Great," Duo's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Just great. It's bad enough it smells like a dead body in here, but after I look at those pictures I'll *never* be able to eat a nice, juicy dead animal again not to mention that there's letters on the refridgerator spelling out a message and it's *really* freaking me out!"
//pushing little children
with their fully automatics
they like to push the weak around//
/dEARESt PilOtS,
i'M SO PlEASEd tO SEE YOU tAkiNG PARt iN MY littlE GAME, ANd i thOUGht thAt YOU ShOUld All kNOW thAt i hAVE ENCOUNtEREd EACh ANd EVERY ONE Of YOU WithiN thE PASt WEEk. it'S NiCE tO kNOW thAt thE PRESENtS i'M lEAViNG bEhinD AREN't GOiNG tO WAStE. i'M POSitiVE thAt YOU hAVE fiGUREd OUt MY PAttERN, bUt i dOUbt YOU'VE lEARNEd MY SElECtiON PROCESS, SO JUSt tO bE SAfE, i'M RESChEdUliNG thE NEXt SEVERAl WEEkS tO fiNd WAYS Of ENliGhtENiNG YOU dEAR PilOts.
UNtil WE MEEt AGAiN.../
//pushing little children
with their fully automatics
they like to push the weak around
pushing little children
with their fully automatics
they like to push the weak around
pushing little children
with their fully automatics
they like to push the weak around
push the weak around
push the weak around
push the weak around
they like to push the weak around//
*~**~*
End Part 5
[1] Don't you hate it when that happens? I know the ones at school are incompetent and a ripoff. It's a dollar for a bag of gummy bears and half the time they get stuck.
[2] Ahhh! It's the Curse of the Bambino still! Ahhhh! ::is a Red Sox fan::