Trail of Death (Chapters 1-3)

Prologue: The Kill

~Old abandoned warehouse on the east side of Barman, Kali on March 3, 2056.~

The Killer, a man in his late thirties, early fourties, gave a malignant smirk as he sharpened the small blade he currently held in his hand. It was already razor sharp, but it was never sharp enough for him. Sharper and sharper he made it, but still, he was not satisfied. Muffled sounds were heard from the other side of the room, in a corner that was covered in shadows. He occasionally glanced over, as if the sound didn't bother him in the slightest, as if he didn't care what it was. As if he already expected the noise to come. He went back to work on the blade, making it sharper, and sharper. Once the tip gleamed and he ran a line across his finger, he laughed as the blood raced out of the wound. With a smile only a maniac could give, he turned toward the shadows, where the muffled noises started coming quicker. He moved toward the shadows, toward the sounds, a chuckle emitting from deep in his throat. He made it to the shadows and his eyes brightened.

Lying there, on a table, was a man who seemed to be in his mid twenties, early thirties. His hands were strapped above his head, one on each side. The man yanked at the binds insistantly, but they never budged. In fact, they seemed to tighten. His feet were bound in much the same way at the end of the table, and his mouth was gagged with a single length of rope. Terrified, scared out of his mind, the man continued to struggle, continued trying to cry out for help.

"Scream all you want," the Killer said softly, his voice amused and seemingly joyous. "No one will hear you." he ran his thumb along the edge of the blade as he spoke, "You are going to die, my friend. I'm sorry, but it must be done." he came closer to the table, a crooked smirk on his face.

The man struggled all the more, tears gleaming in his brown eyes. Muffled sounds came from beneath the gag, but no words. The Killer, grinning as if Christmas had come early, watched his struggles, seemingly in a better mood each time a muffled cry came out, each time the man on the table struggled to break free.

As the Killer raised the knife and poised it over the man's abdomen, the man cried out and tears trailed down from his cheeks. He continuously shook his head, taking in rapid, shaky breaths, his eyes tightly closed. The Killer smirked and delicately made an incision into the man's stomach. The man cried out, but the gag stifled the worst of it. The tears came faster, and his muscles tensed as he tried to lift himself off of the table. He got his back no more than a few centimeters off of the table before the Killer pushed him back down with a hand on his shoulder.

"Now now, don't move. You'll only make things harder on yourself. Please, stay still and this will be over soon." he lifted the blade once more and made another delicate incision next to the other one, and watched the blood flow with a mad gleam in his eye. "Soon, you will be dead...yes..." he let out an unstable laugh and continued his incisions. The man on the table, helpless, cried out. The tears came faster, and sobs escaped his throat, muffled by the gag. He struggled to break free, to somehow escape, but there was no escaping this. He was going to die; the Killer was going to make sure of that.

The Killer, growing bored, took the bloodied knife and smiled at the victim, eyes sparkling with amusement.

"I'm going to kill you now. Be thankful that your death is quick," he said, and then jabbed the knife straight into the man's neck. The man never saw it coming, and began twitching on the table, tears still streaming out of his eyes, shaky breaths still, somehow, escaping his throat, struggling to avoid death. He gave one last, bloodcurling scream, and then there was no more, as his eyes gazed unseeing up at the ceiling, glazed over in death.

The Killer smirked. The man was dead. Let the games begin.

Chapter One: Call in the Night

~Small two-story house in Armaski, Bosuai on March 3, 2056 at 3am~

The phone, ringing on the bedside table, began to ring insistantly at exactly three o'clock in the morning, seemingly begging to be answered, though the male on the bed didn't want to have anything to do with it, and was content with sleep, snuggled into the pillows, the covers pulled up to his chest. The phone stopped ringing, and he smirked to himself, giving out a sigh of relief. Precisely one minute later, the phone rang again, and he groaned as he rolled over and lazily plucked the phone off of the table, answering the call, placing it to his ear. "M'kay...I'm up..." he mumbled sleepily into the phone, his eyes only half open. He wanted to sleep, wanted to go back to the dream world, where anything was possible, where you could wake up if you were scared, or stay asleep if you were happy. "Mmm..." he mumbled as he yawned and stretched, his back popping as he did so. "Who am I speaking to?" he question, realizing that no one had said anything yet. "Hello?"

"Flint?" came a familiar voice on the other end. It was his friend, Boomer Maes, and also his partner. "You up?"

"No," he said. "I'm asleep, yet somehow talking on the phone. Now, call me back in a few hours and I might be awake," he said, and went as to hang up when Boomer's voice stopped him.

"Wake up. Something happened."

He sighed. "Of course it did," he murmured sleepily, closing his eyes. "But I'm sure whatever it is can wait until the morning."

"You don't understand; the boss is losing his mind."

"Hmm, well, maybe it will be completely gone in a few hours. Call me then. Good night," he said, and tried, once more, to hang up. Again, his friend stopped him. He sighed and listened as Boomer began to speak with a hurried tone.

"No, I mean he wants you there yesterday. There's been a murder, and I think he knew the victim. He's all over this case, man, and he wants us on it. Specifically, he wants you on it. I have Radians down here, man." Radians were a Special Force team who worked for the Asaki Mcoa, a crime organization that he happened to work for. He sighed heavily and opened his eyes.

"...Do I have to?" he asked with a groan as he sat up. "Can't I like, take a rain check or something?"

"Nope, not this time," said Boomer. "He wants you there ASAP. He called me like...two minutes ago. He said that if you don't get down there soon, he's going to come and knock down your door and drag you there. That's how serious he is about this, man. I think you'd better hurry."

"...Where are you, Boom?" he asked. "At your house? Why don't you have to go?"

"Oh," said Boomer with a chuckle. "I'm going. Them bastards yanked me out of bed and put me in a car. Check me out; I've still got my pj's on. Talk about a rude awakening."

He sighed. "I feel for ya, man. Okay, I'll be there as soon as I can. Tell the boss to take a chill pill or something and calm the heck down."

"Will do," said Boomer, and Flint could almost hear the smirk in his voice. "See ya in a few, good buddy." and then the line went dead.

Flint yawned as he got to his feet, his eyelids feeling like anvils. He longed to lie back down and go back to sleep, but he knew it wasn't happening. When the boss wanted you, you went. When he said jump, you asked how high. That was just the way it was, and he knew it. He moved toward his closet and yanked out a black shirt and pulled it on over his head. He yanked on some blue jeans and then slowly migrated to the bathroom, where he relieved himself and then washed his hands. He looked in the mirror, and for a moment thought he saw something behind him. He spun around, crouching into a defensive position, looking for the culprit. But there was nothing there. He sighed and stood up. 'Calm down, Flint. You're paranoid,' he thought to himself as he ran his fingers through his mahogany colored hair, somehow taming it. He yawned again and left the restroom, turning the light off as he left. He slowly, lazily, made his way down the stairs and looked once around the living room before he left the house completely.

Flint Blackstone was on his way.

Chapter Two: Briefing

~Station on the west side of Armaski, Bosuai on March 3, 2056 at 3:21am~

Flint arrived at the west side station and immediately entered the building, hurrying through the all-too-familiar halls of the building. Sighing, he entered a room on the third floor, seeing four other people already in the room. Boomer Maes, his partner and friend, sat in a chair, smiling at him. Flint found himself smirking, as his friend really was still in his pj's. He made his way over to him and bent down next to him, as everyone else in the room was busy talking. "You weren't kidding, were you?" he asked, eying everyone in the room. He noticed Rink in the corner, his hand holding his head up so as not to fall asleep. How many people had the boss called in? This early in the morning? Something seriously wasn't right.

"Hell no I wasn't kidding," said Boomer, smirking. "Look at me...I was all warm in bed, and the next thing I know, they're grabbing me! I nearly had a heart attack."

He laughed quietly. "That sucks."

"You're telling me."

He frowned, his faced turning somber. "What's this all about? Have they told you anything?" he whispered quietly, looking around the room. The boss wasn't even here yet, and he was the one who called for the damn meeting. Sighing, he returned his attention to Boomer.

Boomer shrugged his broad shoulders, closing his green eyes for a moment. "I have no idea what's going on. They haven't told me anything; no one has. I guess they were waiting for you, but you're here, so...I dunno," he said as an answer to his question.

Flint sighed and glanced around, taking in everything. The door suddenly opened, and his gaze shot to it. His old friend, Fox Akari, stepped into the room and smiled as he saw him. Flint smirked and waved him over. Fox had moved away a few years ago, and the two of them had only spoken via phone since then. It made him wonder what was going on, that they needed to bring Fox in. "Hey," he said softly as Fox knelt down next to him and Boomer. "What are you doing here?"

Fox shrugged. "Honestly? I have no idea. Dude, talk to me. What's going on? I was yanked out of my house as I was on my way to the bathroom. They gave me thirty seconds to relieve myself, and then I was hauled here." he shrugged. "What is this all about?" his blue eyes were confused.

Flint sighed heavily. "I have no idea. Something about a murder, from what Boomer said." he looked at Boomer, who was watching Rink as he played with a pencil to keep himself awake. Flint rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Fox. "I can't believe they brought you in. I mean, you live...what? Two, three hours away?"

Fox smiled. "Yeah. Talk about a long drive, sheesh," he said. "I hated it. I tried to sleep, but those big meanies in uniform kept saying, and I quote," he cleared his voice and tried to make an imitation of what Flint knew was one of the Radians, "he said, 'No, you cannot sleep Agent Akari. We may get orders to give to you.' How lame is that?" Fox asked, chuckling.

Flint shook his head. "Pretty lame," he responded. He frowned, pondering the situation. What was going on? Why had Fox been dragged into this? What was so important about a murder? They got murders all of the time, and the boss never went to these extremes. He sighed and shook his head, waiting for the boss to arrive.

He didn't have to wait for very long, as the door opened and short man with bay colored hair and amber eyes entered the room. It was the boss. The boss only stood at about five-foot-three, and his face looked excessively tired, as if he hadn't slept in days. It also looked saddened in a way, which confused Flint even more. The boss sighed as he saw Flint, Boomer, and Fox sitting over in the corner, and slowly began to make his way to them.

Boomer smirked. "Hiya boss," he said casually. "Parden my language, but may I say sir, you look like shit."

The boss blinked and then smiled. "Yeah, probably," he said. He ran his fingers through his hair, sighing.

Flint frowned. "What is this all about, sir?" he asked, stifling a yawn. "Why are we here? Why did you drag Boomer and Fox here? What's with the phone calls in the middle of the night? It's my day off."

The boss sighed heavily and closed his amber eyes. "I'm sorry, Flint. I know it's your day off, and I know you do more than your fair share of work around here. You too, Boomer. But this is serious."

Fox frowned. "How so?"

"...There has been a murder, as I'm sure you know. The victim was twenty-eight-year-old Steve Zirc. He was living down in Massin, and has been for about three years, since he got out of college. And then...two weeks ago, he disappeared. We got an annonymous call about one this morning, and we arrived at an abandoned building down in Barman, Kali about an hour later and a half later. But..." he shook his head, his gaze focused on the ground as his eyes opened again. "We were too late. Steve was dead, stabbed in the throat, strapped to a table. There...was a message written on the wall. It said..." he sighed and gestured for Rink to come over.

Rink sighed and got to his feet and brought over some pictures. He waited for the boss to nod his head, and then handed the pictures over to Flint. "They...it's a message..."

Flint frowned as he observed the photos. They were pictures of a message written on the wall, written in blood. The message read, "I see you, can you see me? I have killed Steve Zirc, and be warned, I will kill again. I want Flint Blackstone on the case. I have a job for him, and only him. He may have only two people with him. No more than that. Any more, and you'll be amazed at how many wind up dead at my hand, and they'll all be people you know and love." That was all it said, but it was enough.

Flint swallowed thickly as Boomer and Fox read over his shoulders. "What...What do I have to do with anything? Why does the killer want me?"

The boss sighed once more. "We're not sure, Flint, but we'll keep working on it. In the mean time, you're on the job. You too, Boomer. And you, Fox."

Flint sighed. It was just one of those days.

Chapter Three: It Begins

~Small cafe on west side of Miska, Ramda on March 3, 2056 at 4:03pm~

Flint Blackstone, Boomer Maes, and Fox Akari were currently sitting in a small cafe on the west side of Miska, Ramd. It was around four in the evening now, and they were taking a break. All day, they had been gathering information on the victims that the killer had already killed. Flint was currently sipping a lotte, a stack of papers in front of him. So far, the killer had killed four people. First, it had been young eighteen-year-old Amelia Toms down in Hustic, Bosuai on November 4, 2055. The second had been nineteen-year-old Russle Kuth in Armstaw, Letro on December 15, 2055. The third had been sixteen-year-old Raytho Granger in Krell, Kali on February 21, 2056. And now the fourth victim, Steve Zirc, down in Barman, Kali on March 3, 2056. The pattern was sketchy, but Flint was sure there was one. What kind of a killer was this? What were they looking for? How did the killer know him? What should they be expecting? Flint sighed heavily. so many questions, so few answers. He was sick of unanswerable questions, yet he was used to them. Just because he was used to them didn't mean he had to like them.

His sigh caught the attention of his two friends of which were seated around him. Fox, who sat in front of him, lifted his gaze to see what was wrong. Boomer, who was sitting to the left of him, frowned and shook his head. "You okay?" Boomer asked. "Find anything?"

"Oh yes," he said sarcastically. "Can I interest you in some questions?" he sighed. "Because that's all I've got. A ton of questions, and no answers. Same old, same old, really. I'm still wondering what the hell this guy is thinking. How does he know me? Do I know him? But when I look back, I don't think any of my friends were secretly killers." He shrugged. "I dunno."

Fox sighed from his side of the table and yawned. "Man, I'm really getting sick of these crazy hours. Getting dragged out of my house on my day off..." he broke off, yawning again. "This is messed up."

"You're telling me," said Boomer in agreement. He sighed and took a sip of his drink, his eyes slipping closed. "Any hours at work are crazy though."

Flint nodded. "Amen to that. The work is messed up, but someone has to do it." he took a slurp of his drink and sighed heavily, looking around the small cafe. Yawning, he murmured, "Well, I say we start heading home. You don't want to be driving at night."

Fox shook his head. "No, you don't. Anymore, driving at night is what kills a lot of people. And our population is dwindling as it is."

Boomer sighed, his eyes still closed. "You got that right. Ever since that bomb in 2023, things have gone down the drain." he slurped his lotte and continued, "We need to be careful."

Fox frowned slighly, and then nodded. "Yeah, the killer knows us somehow; he could pick us off one by one."

Flint closed his eyes. "Now don't talk like that, you'll make me hate home."

Boomer chuckled. "Yeah, you never did like those horror movies where the killer killed everyone, do you?"

Flint shook his head. "I hated those movies. I still do. Ever since those crooks broke in when I was four, I haven't liked them." he looked outside at the dimming sky. Though it was only four, ever since the bombing the sun had gone down early; it got dark around 5:30. Letting his gaze travel, he notices a car parked on the other side of the street, with something sticking out of...looking around the table, his heart skipped a beat as he realized what it was. "Shit...get down!" he cried, and threw himself to the floor, dragging Boomer with him. Fox followed suit, and suddenly the window they had been sitting by exploded into a thousand tiny shards, landing on them as the table flipped on top of them. Staying utterly still, Flint heard the car rush off, its tires screeching against the pavement in the driver's hurry. Groaning, he struggled out from below the table, but found that his body wouldn't obey him. He sighed and lay there for a moment, his eyes closed, his head spinning.

A few seconds later, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and heard Boomber say, "Flint? You okay buddy?" Opening his eyes, he saw both of his friends looking at him worriedly. He could only nod as Boomer struggled out from under the table and picked it up off of them. Grunting, Flint sat up and looked around. Everyone in the cafe, even though it was few, was looking at them. Rubbing the back of his head, he winced as he found a tender spot, and then he slowly got to his feet.

"Well...seems somehow we're on the right trail, even if we don't know what that trail is yet," said Flint, chuckling slightly, trying to lighten the mood. Fox smiled as he nodded, and Boomer gave a small laugh.

"Yeah, you got that right, buddy. When the bad guys start attacking ya, you're on the right trail somehow," Boomer said, a smile on his face. Flint, smiling as well, shook his head and waved the waitress over. She hurried toward them and stopped in front of him. "Check please," he said, and then looked at the table and the window. "Um...the guys in black will pay for that..."

She shook her head. "That's okay, we have insurence. Just please, warn us next time if something decides to explode whilst you're around."

He nodded. "Right, warn of any exploding. Got it," he said, smiling at her. She chuckled and handed him a small check, and he and his friends went to the counter to pay. Frowning, Flint popped his neck and rubbed at the back of it, wincing slightly. He was tender now; that table had hit him hard. He sighed. He could think about that later, when there was time. Right now, he had to focus on getting out of here and back home, alive. Whoever the person in the green car had been, they wanted him dead; they wanted all three of them dead, and he needed to figure out why.

It was time to dig deeper.