Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Game of Revenge ❯ The Beginning ( Chapter 1 )

A/N::: This story, all its characters, plot, ideas, etc. Belong to myself and are not to be stolen, copied, moved, or otherwise plagiarized.

The rating is for violence, language, and one scene involving a sexual relationship between two consenting male adults.

This is not one of those stories with smut in each and every chapter, so if that is what you're looking for, this may not be for you.

Now newly edited and complete! Sorry, sorry, sorry that it took so long to put up, I just kept forgetting. >_<

Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome, but no flames please!

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I remember many of the cases I have taken in my life, but none so well as the one that struck that cloudy October night back in 1906. The event that turned the cogs in fate's grand bingo machine. That was a hard year, one of the worst I have ever experienced. It was one of changes, and of darkness. If I had known that terrible night what was to come, I often ask myself, would it have changed anything?

The cold silence of the night was broken suddenly by the massive clattering of many hooves on the cobbled streets. Inspector Jack Harper looked out his window at the horses that sped by below. He leaned back in the leather chair and put his feet up on the only section of desk that wasn't covered in papers. He was expecting the call anytime now. Murder, theft, whatever it was; they wouldn't have called in that many cops unless something big had happened. He surveyed his cluttered desk. The dim green glow from a solitary lamp showed the faces of wanted criminals, stolen items, and missing people. Most of these cases were solved, the results shown in the form of the framed newspaper headlines that hung from the dark, peeling walls of his dim office. But many of the papers had been there from times that they were removed from their proper files and never returned. Jack always reminded himself to do something about it, but he was far too busy. He had work to do.

Suddenly, Jack's train of thought was shattered by the harsh ring of the telephone. He sat up quickly, causing papers to fly off his desk and onto the floor. He grabbed the phone off of its receiver, and brought it to his ear.

“Hello?” he said. “This is Inspector Harper, private detective. What do you want?”

“This is Police Chief O'Neal. We've got a situation here, and we think you'd better come down,” came the heavy voice, slightly distorted by the static of the old telephone. “We're at the old train station.”

“All right. I'll be right there.”

“Thank you very much, Inspector.”

“Yep.”

Jack heard the line click and replaced the phone on its receiver. He stood up, grabbed his coat and hat from the stand, and walked out the door onto the third floor hallway. He strode to the stairway, and made his way quickly down the rickety steps and out the back door of the dark, shabby building in which he worked. He stood alone on the curb, the dim light of a streetlamp only barely illuminating the view of the row of buildings, each as equally dark and shabby as the one he had just left. A growing clatter came down the road, and soon a lone cab drove up, stopping in front of Jack. The driver called down to him.

“Where to?” His voice was old and gravely.

“The old train station, over by the edge of town.” Jack replied.

“Well, get in then.”

Jack walked past the horse and driver and climbed into the cab. He shut the door behind him, and the driver shouted to the horse as the cab lurched forward. He tried to remain as comfortable as he possible could as the cab jolted back and forth over the bumps in the road. He began to worry about Edward Bosley, who was his apprentice. Bosley had come in wanting to be a detective, and tonight Jack had sent him off on his first mission. Earlier that night, they had received a lead that a suspected criminal, Kyle Tompson, had been spotted in the downtown area. Jack had sent Edward out to investigate, and he had not heard from him yet.

As they pulled up to the abandoned building that used to be the train station, Jack's fears grew as he saw the many carriages pulled up, and the calls of the policemen to each other.

“Bring the doctor! He's badly hurt!” called one of the voices floating from the crowd.

Hearing this, Jack leapt from the cab and pushed his way through the thick crowd of officials. He managed to get to the center, and gasped.

There, on the ground, in a pool of blood, was Edward. Jack dropped to his knees and took his apprentice's hand in his.

“Jack?” Edward whispered, his voice trembling and faint. “Is that you?”

Tears came to his eyes, as Jack said, “Edward...Eddie… What happened?”

“I went into the house, like you told me to, Jack.” He took a moment to take a slow, obviously pained, breath. “And he was there…he was there, Jack, and he had a gun…and…” another breath “… he had this terrible look in his eyes, like a cornered dog, and a gun…and then… there was pain, and I heard the gun go off…. And Jack… He shot me, Jack… I was… No, I am…Dying.”

“Eddie…I'm…I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have sent you!”

“No, it is I who should be sorry… I failed you…”

“No…! You didn't! It wasn't your fault! You are the best partner I could ever wish to have!”

A soft smile came over Edward's bloody face. “Thank you, Jack…I…” But whatever else the man had to say was lost as his eyes glazed over and his hand fell limp in his teacher's. Jack raised his own, slightly trembling, hand, and closed Edward's eyes. With difficulty, Jack choked back his tears, and stood.

“Where's the man who shot him? Where's Kyle Tompson?” he asked the officer next to him.

“We don't know, Sir. When we got here, he was gone, and it was just him, here. I'm truly sorry about Bosley, though. He was a bright young lad.” The officer said.

“Yes, he was. And that bastard Tompson took his life away from the world.” Jack turned from the scene, and started to walk away. As he did, he took his revolver out of his coat pocket, loaded it, and thought to himself, “Edward, I swear to you that I will avenge your death. I will hunt down that monster with all that I have, and I won't stop until he is in HELL!” With that Jack checked the safety, and shoved the gun into a clip on his belt. He pulled his khaki overcoat closer around his shoulders, took one look back at the crowd of officers that stood in the quickly gathering fog, and then ran, vanishing into the darkness.