Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Silhouette ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

SILHOUETTE

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

Sixth. One-step closer, but not close enough. Ten was his magical number. Three surgeons, five nurses, one anesthesiologist, and the family doctor. Close, so very close, but not good enough.

 

Tapping the edge of his sleek surgical knife rhythmically against an erect metal pillar he stared at the figure that was supine upon the table. Quivering skin caused sweat and blood to mingle in the deep paths etched with precision on the man's abdomen. He had done much better on the symbol this time. Much cleaner, much more perfect, almost too well done for the specimen that it had been carved on. The filth. Perfection is what this surgeon's job required, and he missed the mark on the dartboard by a long shot. He caused death, and thus, he would give him the same treatment.

 

Lightly flicking the blade in his hands he slowly advanced upon his prey. He was the perfect predator. Sleek, stealthy in his expensive black attire, identity masked to his victim, and an impeccable ability to carve out vital organs with little effort and no imperfections. His victim's imperfection was his downfall. He would make him pay.

 

Frightened eyes watched him, reflecting in the smooth silver of his blade. He grinned in pleasure. The more fear this worm had, the more he struggled, the more he pleaded, and the longer he would drag out his punishment his death. With almost loving tenderness he glided the tip of the blade over the man's sternum, his grin widening when a loud whimper reached his ears through his victims gag. The sweet sound of revenge.

 

“I, will show you exactly how painful my life has been since you took him from me. I will show you in the most realistic way possible,” he muttered, leaning close into the man's ear. He dragged the flat end of the scalpel slowly down his victim's throat and over his chest before roughly and suddenly shoving the knife down. The sharp blade cracked bone, shredded intercostals muscle, and with a quick twist of the wrist, continued its plummet. A shrill scream wrenched from the victims throat and resonated through the dark abandoned building and echoing with his killer's laughter.

 

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“Coffee…need coffee!”

 

“Alright, Soren! I understood you the first time, we'll make a coffee run!” Yami yelled in exasperation, heavily resisting the urge to slam his foot on the break and watch his friend's head ram into the dashboard. Flicking on the signal light he made for the nearby intersection on Fifth Avenue and First Street, hoping desperately that the Tim Horton's nearby was not overly busy. “You are a caffeine addict!”

 

Grinning devilishly Soren relaxed back in his seat, adjusting his seatbelt so he could slouch and throw his feet up on the dashboard. “I knew you would see the light. Coffee is key to the survival of us EMT's. Without coffee we would be the ones needing to be saved.”

 

“Coffee is not essential to human life. Only to your lack of brain cells,” Yami retorted, twisting the steering wheel and turning right at the intersection.

 

“Hey!”

 

Shooting a grin in Soren's direction he turned into the nearby Tim Horton's in the Telus building downtown Calgary. Luckily, it was not busy. Then again it was nearly one in the morning most people were home sleeping.

 

He remained silent while Soren ordered and paid for the coffee. Fervently resisting the urge to yawn he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He didn't want to prove to Soren that he desperately needed coffee as well. They had already been on shift for six hours, and had six more to go. To put it simply, he was already exhausted. The first call of the night had been a three-casualty car crash on Deerfoot trail. That call lasted until about two hours ago. Since then it's had been calls from clubs and bars with overdoses or fallen drunkards.

 

Sighing he averted his attention to the news which was quietly broadcasting through the radio, he scowled at the report that was being played.

 

`Rumors from this morning have been confirmed by detectives. The body found at the walk in clinic downtown yesterday, November first, is the fifth victim of the now named serial assassin, the Caduceus Killer. Reports say that it was a young nurse who used to work at the Peter Lougheed, just like the other victims, hospital and transferred to the clinic. She was three months pregnant…”

 

Flicking to a different radio station he shook his head, “Two victims, fifth and sixth,” he murmured softly.

 

“Here yah go Mr. Zombie,” Soren teased, passing his comrade a large mug of coffee. Ignoring the glare he received he chugged back a large amount of his own, practically melting at the taste and instant stimulus that came from it. Making a pleased sound he relaxed into his seat as Yami pulled out of the parking lot and back out into the street. “I know you didn't sleep very well last night. Your eyes are sunken again.”

 

Yami scowled, “I slept fine.”

 

Grunting Soren took another swig of his coffee, “You can't lie to me bud, don't even try.”

 

“Too late.”

 

With a sigh Soren fell into silence, eyes trained on Yami's face as they drove aimlessly in the darkened streets of downtown Calgary. Yami seemed to feel his scrutiny and sent a sideway glare at him, one hand flicking out to playfully punch his shoulder, “Drink your coffee before it gets cold.”

 

Shaking his head at his best friend he averted his gaze and took another long swig of his coffee. He stared absently out the window, absorbing the views of the tall glass and stone buildings that surrounded him, buildings and streets that he had known and memorized his entire life. He did not even have to pay attention to the street signs to know where they were, or which parking lot Yami was heading to for the two of them to stop for a few minutes and enjoy their stimulating drinks. He smiled, home sweet home.

 

A few more large swigs later and Soren found himself in a small parking lot on the far end of Sixth Street. Yami had already pulled into a parking stall and had instantly un-clasped his seat belt, taken his coffee in his hands, and slouched down in his seat. Resisting the urge to laugh at his friend, who was now cradling his coffee and slowly savoring its rich taste, Soren rolled down the window and gratefully inhaled the fresh air. Sinking even further into his seat Soren peered over at his friend, “Have you ever considered sleeping pills?”

 

Yami growled deeply, his calm ruined, snapping his attention to Soren he scowled, “Yes I have, no they don't work, and yes I rarely take them.”

 

Blinking rapidly Soren shifted away from Yami slightly for effect, “You are one scary ass mind reader.”

 

“No, you're just predictable.” Yami retorted teasingly, barely dodging a well aimed -albeit playful- punch. Chuckling he leaned back against the door, peering across at Soren, whom was pretending to sulk. Some small flash caught his eye, directing his attention away from his comrade. Focusing his gaze across the street he narrowed his eyes. It was a barely built construction site, supposed to be a new hotel or something of the sort. Faintly, in one of the basement windows a pale light flickered in and out as if swinging back and forth within the room. Bewildered he glanced down at the clock it was quarter after one.

 

Catching Yami's train of vision Soren noticed the flickering basement light. Scowling he murmured, “No one should be in there, it's the middle of the night.”

 

“Who says there's any one in there,” Yami said softly, only to swallow his words as a human shadow cut through the flickering light. “What the hell?”

 

A shrill pained scream sliced through the soft noise of traffic and the low pulsating beats of the radio in the ambulance. Startled Yami and Soren nearly dropped their drinks, chills radiating up their limbs from the intensity and abruptness of the scream. Glancing at each other both seemed to instantly think the same thing as if their minds were linked. Slamming their drinks into the mug holders Yami barreled out to grab their gear while Soren scrambled for the radio.

 

Pushing the button on the now coffee soaked radio Soren yelled out for all EMS and Police personal in Calgary to hear, “This is Cobra69, ambulance 19, to all free Police and EMS personal, we have a possible assault transpiring at the partially built Radisson Hotel on Sixth Street Downtown. Request back-up EMS and any available Police officers to assist. Will dispatch full situation when it is deciphered. Over.”

 

The moment he put the radio down Yami was wrenching his door open. Clambering out he followed his now running partner across the street to the half built hotel.

 

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“Damn bimbo needs to learn to open her incompetent ears!” Bakura grumbled dropping into the passenger seat of their `ghost car', boisterously slamming his door shut while carefully putting his large cup of coffee in the cup holder.

 

Chuckling Grey entered the vehicle with far more grace and silence compared to his partner, “You just need to learn patience. It looked like her first day on the job and you just ripped her a new ass and force fed it back to her.”

 

Shoving his seatbelt on Bakura took his coffee and loudly gulped a good portion of it down, “Her fault she wasn't listening.”

 

Shaking his head Grey peered at his russet-eyed comrade, still not entirely used to the young mans long snowy white hair. Expression becoming serious he sipped at his own coffee, gaze demanding the attention of the other occupant of the vehicle. “Are you madder at the girl, or the fact that the body count keeps rising.”

 

Snarling Bakura shot a sharp look at Grey, “You know the answer to that.”

 

Scowling Grey relaxed stiffly into his seat, flicking on the ignition and driving the car out of the Tim Horton's parking lot. He grinned and shook his head as an ambulance pulled out of the drive through and past them onto the street, heading in the opposite direction that they would be. “We'll figure it out. Just you wait, we'll get a big lead tomorrow and it will be an open and shut case. Have some patience.”

 

Raising a brow Bakura grunted, “A little un-realistic are we?”

 

“Yeah, but wishful thinking never hurt any one,” Grey chuckled, flicking on his signal light and making for the District One Police Office downtown. “This guy may seem good, but he'll slip up soon, they all do.”

 

“Hmph, your little fantasies had better be right,” Bakura said, taking another long chug of his coffee, ignoring the disgusted cringe Grey was giving him for it. “I am really getting sick of finding more heartless bodies…literally. This man is sending out a message by removing those hearts and using the Caduceus symbol. He's got some sort of beef with the hospitals. We just don't know what brought it on and why is he killing these specific individuals in such an intimate and exceptionally personal manner.”

“Don't worry, we'll figure it out Kura',” Grey assured, sending his partner a comforting grin, the only response he gained was an abrupt grunt.

 

They remained silent for the rest of the drive. Bakura continued to drink his coffee while staring at the clock, watching the near ten minute drive roll by. Even at this early hour in the morning travelling downtown was long, the lack of vehicles did not stop the lights from having short cycles. Pulling into a secure parking lot both gave out relieved sighs and moved to remove their seatbelts, eager to go and sit in a warm office and possibly go home soon.

 

Grey and Bakura nearly jumped out of their seats at the sudden radio transmission blaring in their vehicle. The abruptness had the two gasping and then completely locked into the call.

 

“This is Cobra69, ambulance 19, to all free Police and EMS personal, we have a possible assault transpiring at the partially built Radisson Hotel on Sixth Street Downtown. Request back-up EMS and any available Police officers to assist. Will dispatch full situation when it is deciphered. Over.”

 

“Let's go,” Bakura said stiffly, reaching to the dash and flicking on the siren. Grey responded in perfect synch, slamming the breaks, swiveling the wheel, and rapidly accelerating back in the direction they had just come from. Now, if only the other vehicles on the road would be as cooperative. Amid much confusion, horn honking, and Bakura vehemently swearing, they barreled through the cars stopped at the

intersection and sped off towards Sixth Street.

 

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Cautiously, Yami pushed the unlocked back door to the hotel open, he and Soren both cringing when it loudly creaked and groaned. Exchanging a small look of horror they meandered forward, both trying to make as little noise as possible. It was incredibly hard to do considering both were wearing heavy steel toe boots, and Yami was carrying their weighty bag of equipment.

 

Aside from the odd sliver of moonlight breaking through the windows, the main floor of the building was dark and half built. Drywall was screwed on, but not mudded, the floor was still plywood, and electrical wiring was strewn about haphazardly. Other equipment and left over lunch containers were randomly scattered in the drywall dust, a perfect obstacle to trip on.

 

Scrambling for his flashlight Soren flicked it on to the lowest setting and peered around for a nearby stairwell. Finding one not far to their right he pointed it out to Yami. Yami nodded in response and signaled for him to turn off the flashlight and follow him. Abiding by that he shoved the instrument back into his pocket and cautiously followed him to the stairs. He trusted Yami's courage far better than his own, grateful that his partner had decided to take the lead.

 

Carefully Yami slung the medical bag over his shoulder before taking a slow and almost timid decent to the first stair. He nearly sighed with relief when no creaking or loud noise came from the action. Confidence up he continued down the stairs, glancing back at Soren every once in a while to make sure his friend was surviving behind him.

 

He could hear movement below, soft talking and the odd muffled grunt or possible scream. With each sound from the basement and every step closer he came, the colder his blood became and the faster his heartbeat rose. Soren's heavy breathing behind him was a subtle comfort, reminding him that he was not alone. Upon reaching the bottom he peered around. Just down the hall to his left he could see the flickering light from underneath a barely hinged on door. Soren stepped down beside him, widespread hand resting on his shoulder to give comfort and strength to both of them.

 

Glancing back at Soren Yami murmured, “Take the bag, you tend to the patient. If there is any need to fend someone off I'll do it. I have a hell of a lot more defensive training than you do.”

 

“Alright,” Soren agreed without question. Taking the bag in his hand he gulped loudly before following Yami.

 

They inched slowly down the hall, backs pressed against the partially built walls while minding their footing and trying to make as little noise as possible. The noises grew louder with each step they took, one voice clearly gagged and trying to scream in agony, while the other was softly whispering with a sharp and cold tone that caused shivers to ripple up and down the two EMT's spines.

 

Freezing Soren frantically gripped Yami's shoulder, the noises echoing in his ears and causing both fear and doubt to overwhelm him, “We should wait for the cops. Its protocol, we can't enter a scene that is not deemed safe.”

 

Sighing Yami glanced back at him, “I know, and we will…”

 

Another gagged scream sliced vociferously through them, followed by a deep menacing laugh that instantly left them both shivering again. Both closed their eyes, flinching at the noises that continued to emit from the room.

 

Clenching his fists Yami snapped his gaze to Soren, gripping his friends arm tightly to get his attention, “Scratch that, we can't. Whoever is in there is being tortured and will probably be dead by the time backup gets here. We have to do something and you know it.”

 

Struggling with what he knew was right and what had been forced in his head through all his training Soren felt his body begin to shake as he stared into his best friends determined eyes. Gulping harshly he nodded slowly, his want to do the right thing overwhelming his training, “Alright, let's go.”

 

Slowly Yami took a deep breath, calming his own racing nerves, exchanging a look with Soren to make sure his partner was ready before he reached out for the door handle. Holding up his hand he counted down from three with his fingers, making sure Soren was watching. The instant he was done he slammed the door open and shot into the room, Soren's frantic footsteps behind him.

 

He nearly collapsed when he absorbed the scene before him, his heart wrenching and his stomach lurching in disgust and horror. A man dressed completely in black and a balaclava stood over the other individual in the room with a set of what looked like hedge clippers, he had seen them before in an autopsy room, in his hands; while his other was delicately moving flesh aside so he could properly access the clearly beating heart. The victim was fully pinned down to a table, his chest was cut in a precise and perfect y-incision, three ribs already snapped half way and removed from his torso and internal organs exposed. He was gagged, his expression one of sheer horror and agony.

 

Yami barely had another moment to think before the assailant charged towards him. Checking behind him to make sure Soren wasn't there he crouched down and readied himself. He could see Soren run in a blur past him towards the victim, yelling desperately into the handset radio for backup.

 

The masked man was on him in an instant, growling in possessive anger with a large surgical knife in his hands. Shoving out one of his feet Yami connected sharply with the man's knee, forcing the man to hunch over into his already bent elbow. Feeling ribs crack against his extended joint Yami snapped his other hand up and grabbing the man's shirt spun on his knees and wrenched the man over him and into the wall with a cry.

 

Chancing a quick look over his shoulder he watched Soren release the last restraint on the victim before carefully maneuvering him down to the floor, desperately trying to staunch the bleeding with thick wades of gauze. The man's groans and shrill screams of pain rang loudly in his ears, deafening him and briefly distracting him from his predicament. That distracting did not last for long. The assailant sprang towards him, obviously running high on adrenalin, and swung a hard and perfectly executed punch. The man's fist connecting viciously with his sternum snapped him roughly back into reality. The air in his lungs was harshly forced out and he toppled back to the floor, his head connecting brutally with the concrete floor.

 

He had no time to think and barely any time to react before the man was hovering over him again, fist raised to execute another hit. Reacting Yami crossed his arms over his face, his one wrist taking the brunt of the blow and twisting at an odd angle. Holding back an anguished cry he snapped his knee up roughly, hitting the man hard between the legs. The moment the assailant hunched over Yami rammed his fist into the man's exposed jaw, the action sent the man rolling off of him and into the nearby table.

 

“Yami, are you alright!” Soren cried out, desperately trying to calm the patient -whom was screaming piercingly in agony- while staunching the profuse bleeding with his hands.

 

“I'm fine,” Yami grunted, rising to his now shaky feet. He knew he had lied, especially when he felt the intense rush of pain to his head and chest. Gasping sharply he averted his attention to the masked assailant whom was getting back up.

 

Suddenly the shrill whine of sirens and the flash of red and blue lights echoed in the small room. Joy then dismay surged through Yami at the sound. His joy shoved aside the instant he realized that the attacker was both in panic, and that he was between him and the way out. Bracing himself Yami resisted the urge to barrel out of the way as the man charged him again. It was at times like this that he hated being short. The man tackled him, crouching low and ramming into his stomach, boldly lifting him and slamming his back against the door.

 

The sharp crack of wood breaking filled Yami's ears, the door shattering from both their weight and the sheer force the man used to propel them into it. Crashing to the floor with the now broken door beneath him Yami gasped sharply, the air once again being knocked from his chest. He wasn't even able to inhale before the man pummeled him in the sternum once more, loud cracking along with Yami's own strangled cry confirming the damage. Large hands squeezed his neck vehemently, his attacker growling above him and placing a knee on his stomach forcing him to snap his eyes open. They locked with a pair of eerily cold bright green eyes; the heated glare causing Yami to shiver as the oxygen slowly stopped reaching his brain.

 

“Yami!” His comrade's panicked scream created an unexpected surge of adrenaline through him. Shoving his knee into the man's side and snapping his face forward he slammed his forehead into the man's nose, breaking it and causing blood to spurt into his face. Inhaling painfully he continually slammed his fist into the same spot he had it on the man's side a moment before, directly connecting with the man's kidney.

 

It worked. The man rolled off of him, spluttering blood and holding his damaged side. Gasping for breath Yami placed his hand over his chest, glaring blearily at his attacker while the man slowly tried to stand up.

 

Yelling from above them and the crashing of footsteps snapped both their attention towards the stairs. The attacker averted back to Yami, masked face unreadable as he growled out before dashing towards an open window at the end of the hall, “You'll pay for this.”

 

“Yami!” Soren screamed again, lean figure appearing in the doorway just as the several police officers, two detectives, and a pair of EMT's stumbled down the stairs.

 

“Go back to the patient,” Yami rasped, coughing at the dry pain that welled up in his chest and head, his other hand limp.

 

Crashing down the stairs Grey and Bakura both watched on as the masked man squirmed out of the window and out of their sight, a clearly injured EMT lying on a shattered door, and the other barely visible in the doorway thoroughly covered in blood. They shared a quick glance, both clearly bewildered as to what exactly it was that they had just stumbled into.

 

Shoving his confusion aside Grey yelled at the police officers that followed them, “We got a runner! Get up there and make sure he doesn't get away!”

 

“Yes, Detective!” They hurried said before dashing back up where they had just entered.

 

Satisfied he turned back to see Bakura storming over to the fallen EMT, his frustration from earlier evident and clearly clouding his judgment. It was then that he got a clear look at the EMT and nearly gasped in recognition; he knew the kid and knew the consequences of roughing him up. Blinking in shock Grey lunged to stop his partner from making a rash decision but was too late.

 

“Are you out of your mind!?” Bakura barked, his frustration rising when Yami scowled at him instead of cowering like most. “You are supposed to wait for the police to clear the scene and deem it safe before you enter. I should have you fired for this you irresponsible idiot, you're lucky you're alive!”

 

Staggering to his feet, using the wall as a crutch, Yami glared angrily at Bakura, “If we had waited that long, our patient would be dead. I'm doing my duty and saving him, now you do yours and leave me alone so I can finish mine.”

 

Fury blowing through the roof Bakura grabbed a handful of Yami's shirt, ignoring Grey's warning not to and Soren's shocked cry. “Don't you dare try and preach to me about doing my duty. You just broke the rules set out for you in yours!”

 

“To save a life,” Yami yelled, pleased when Bakura's expression rapidly lost its ferocity and turned to stunned. “Now get out of my way so we can get that man to a hospital before he bleeds out!”

 

“The other EMT's can handle it, you need a reminder…!” Bakura stopped abruptly, his stunned expression becoming even more so as Yami let out a frustrated yell before the palm of his hand slammed up into the detective's nose. Gasping in pain Bakura stumbled back, clutching his bleeding nose he nearly toppled to the floor when Yami shoved past him. Looking at his blood soaked hands he turned to watch the four EMT's begin to prep the patient to be moved onto a spine board. “You asshole, you broke my nose.”

 

Grey gave him a less than sympathetic look, “Shut it Bakura, he just saved the next victim of the Caduceus Killer. That kid gave us our big break.”

 

Stunned Bakura looked in at the patient, trying to see him through the blur of the four EMT's rapidly bandaging him and rolling him onto the spine board. He gasped at the carved caduceus on the man's stomach and the gaping chest wound so much like all the other victims of the serial killer.

 

His attention was grabbed by the young EMT that had just stood up to him. He cringed at the sight of the young man hunching over to the side and hacking violently, a small bit of blood spattering the floor below him. He narrowed him eyes, hand still gingerly covering his shattered nose. This kid had very clearly just put his life on the line to save this man, and paid dearly for it. He owed him a thank you, and an apology. Neither he was going to be able to give right away.

 

The four EMT's dashed past them, delegating duties to each other as the carried the victim on the spine board up the stairs and out to one of the waiting ambulances. Shaking his head Bakura glanced at Grey, “I could never do that job.”

 

“Why not?” his partner asked.

 

“Too many lost and not enough saved.”

 

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As gently as they could the four EMT's placed the spine board onto the already prepped stretcher. While Yami and one of the other EMT's strapped the patient in Soren and the other ran across the street to their parked ambulance.

 

Clambering into the drivers seat Soren buckled in, unconsciously reaching out and taking a swig of his coffee, scowling and spluttering as the cold liquid ran over his tongue. “Gah! Cold coffee…that's sacrilege!”

 

“Get driving!” yelled the other EMT, whom was strapping into the passenger seat.

 

With an exaggerated pout Soren turned on the ignition and drove the ambulance to where Yami and the other EMT were waiting for them with the patient. He waited a moment while the two pulled the stretcher into the back of the rig, calming the moaning man as they did so. The instant he heard the doors close he slammed on the gas petal and cringed when the EMT beside him flared the lights and sirens.

 

“I need to invest in a mega thermos, cold coffee is wrong.”

 

“Dammit Soren, shut up and drive!” Yami yelled hoarsely, from the back of the rig.

 

He did so, speeding up and racing towards the Foothills Hospital, cursing as he went at every vehicle that didn't have the common sense to move out of his way.