Requiem for a Murder (CLOSED)

[Motokata]

Stumbling out of a night club in the dead of the night was a teenage girl and her overly giggly friends. "I'm so hammered." She laughed.

"How fun was that. Happy birthday Makiko!" They cheered in their drunken state.

"Hey who is that?" Someone in the dark was stumbling around.

"Just some drunk looking for a place to blow his guts."

"I think he's watching me." Makiko said

"Perv. Let's get out of here."

"God he's got a gun!"

"Don't move all of you."

"Okay."

The girls couldn't very run away in their short skirts and high-heels against a man with a fully loaded gun.

"Give me all your money right now."

They threw their purses down to him. Then one by one he tied them up and took out a long knife stabbing them all 36 times. Brutal. He was known as the Midnight killer as all his crimes took place at or well after midnight. Often 12-3 AM never sooner or later.

The detective in charge Yukiko Kaida was trailing him for ages. Still never got any clues. "Yep it's our boy again. Stabs in the back, young females, only one was sexually assaulted."

"Why one?" the CSI tech asked

"Well I imagine he must of killed at 1 AM."

"You don't mean, he's raped 12?"

"Never in a row, but he's left nice little hints. For example Asuka Shinbo, she had 12 carved into her. Maria Santiago, shot 12 times. Usually he rapes 1-3 girls, but he's always the same, stalking a group of three girls, in their teens and always doing something."

"We've collected all we can find."

"Get it to the lab."

She knelt down and pulled the sheet over.

Two weeks later in Tagoria the Midnight Killer had found a new hunting ground. Having escaped Motokata police he was on the move through the bright daylight looking for a good place to make his mark. His real name was Koichi Morimoto, he was a twice tried but never convicted dead-beat. Your a-typical killer, tourtured small animals and all that jazz. He lit up cigarett and inahled. Yep good hunting tonight.


----------
Back in Motokata detective Kaida was getting swamped with phone calls of all sorts of tips. "Yeah, what kind of weapon? Thanks." She hung up then the phone rang again "Homicide please hold." Of course it was night in Tagoria when she got home that evening she was going to get the shock of her life.

[The Tagorian Mountains]

For fourteen year old Seras the world offered limitless possibilities. She was one of those typical goody good straight A students that you'd often hear about on books and film, but she possessed a little devilish charm that prevented her from simply being yet another cliche girl. As she walked home from school, one night, she had been reminiscing about the time she had just spent with her friends.
Friends. Those people in her life that she relished being around. They were a select few but that wasn't what was important, what was important was that Seras had them and that they could be trusted. Fully trusted, without a need to worry about them. She didn't know much about what dangers lurked behind the shadows, even though she had gone through every stranger-danger course known in the Empire of Tagoria; from her parents and school, she learned how to beware of certain individuals. She had some pepper spray with her in case there was a need to use it – that was how her brother, who aspired to become a cop in the police force when his studies ended, put it. As she walked, listening to some Tagorian band she liked, she could feel the sharp rustling of the wind. She was wearing a light coat, a shirt with some designs on the front, and some stockings that gave her the look of some paedophile's wet dream.
She breathed the air into her lungs and walked blithely across the sidewalk, a sidewalk that went down her quiet neighbourhood. It was a Friday evening, and she hoped to spend the weekend at her best friend's house, spending time with the whole gang over a night of junk food and television. Possibly some games and gossip, if her male friends were even into that.
She noticed someone was walking into her line of sight, but figured it was just another passerby, not knowing her place in the intricate chain of Fate that was to drag her family into the pits of a Hell unbelievably horrible and chaotic. She continued walking, as if nothing was the problem, not knowing anything. She was skipping, in anticipation of her birthday that was going to be just four days later this month.

That night, at a local store, her older brother Leka purchased the new album of the band, Red Dawn, which had been well known for helping boost the popularity of Tagoria's Ambient Music scene in the nineties. He knew how much his sister loved the band, and figured that the long wait to grab it for her was entirely worth it.

He had no idea that something would happen, sometihng that would change the world for his modest, well off family forever.

Sometimes, Life has a bloody way of saying, “I'm not fair.”

[Motokata]

"How are you young lady? I'm a tourist here, I'm a bit lost, if you could just sit with me and help me figure out this map of mine. I think we can sit on that bench right there. What do you say?"

[The Tagorian Mountains]

Seras took off her earbuds and listened to the man's plea for assistance, thinking he was obviously a tourist without the need for him to have said it. She didn't see why she shouldn't help him, although she wanted to head home quickly to get packed for the sleepover at her best friend's house among other things. As they sat on the bench, Seras looked over at the man's map and tried her best to help him.

"Where are you trying to go? Just tell me where and I'll try to help you out." Seras said, shoving her music player into the pocket of her brightly colored coat. She was a thin girl, with luscious hair and ocean blue eyes along with pale white skin. Her teeth were pearl white and perfectly aligned. Everything about her seemed cliched, yet perfect.

[Motokata]

Seras took off her earbuds and listened to the man's plea for assistance, thinking he was obviously a tourist without the need for him to have said it. She didn't see why she shouldn't help him, although she wanted to head home quickly to get packed for the sleepover at her best friend's house among other things. As they sat on the bench, Seras looked over at the man's map and tried her best to help him.

"Where are you trying to go? Just tell me where and I'll try to help you out." Seras said, shoving her music player into the pocket of her brightly colored coat. She was a thin girl, with luscious hair and ocean blue eyes along with pale white skin. Her teeth were pearl white and perfectly aligned. Everything about her seemed cliched, yet perfect.

"This girl is perfect." He thought to himself. He glanced at his watch as dusk seemed to set in.

"Well..."

He looked for the furthest point on the map and maybe convince her to go with him what would take the longest time so he could make his strike. He was going to repeat his first killing the stroke of midnight he would stoke her out. Then he would write and brag all about it.

"I need to get to the Lorallek Rec Center."

[The Tagorian Mountains]

Seras knew all about the Rec Center that the man was talking about. She had been there numerous times with family and friends. You could make some sort of animated film out of it, it was that sort of thing. As she got off the bench, Seras told the man that the Rec Center could be reached more quicker by bus then if he walked, but she figured that he didn't have a bus pass or anything like that.

"Do you plan on taking part in one of the classes there? I've been there before with my friends and such. It's a nice place." Seras said, sipping up her coat a little as the cold wind began to blow harder than beforehand. As she walked with him, she worried about being late home but figured it wouldn't take long, and that her parents would understand.

They wouldn't.

[Motokata]

"Yes I was going to take a class but mostly socialize. Chilly today. Look I don't have a pass and not much money until my traveler's checks clear so I appreciate you showing me the way."

As darkness fell so did her terror as he chased her around the city slum streets with a knife. He pinned her down and stabbed her followed by rape. He carved the number 12 into her bare backside.

[The Tagorian Mountains]

She had struggled, as hard as she could, but her hard as she could wasn't enough in her fight against him. She tried to use her pepper spray on him but it was knocked out of her hand and into the darkness. As she laid there under his sweating flesh, feeling his wet lips go all over her face and neck, and with his hands going under her shirt, she wept. She began to feel like she was trash, a mere doll to play with. Her maidenhood, and her dignity as a human being, seemed to have collectively vanished. She screamed, just a little, until she discovered the worthlessness of that action.

After a while, she began to feel like he was going to have her killed. Like the cameras of tabloid reporters, scenes in her life flashed before her very eyes in rapid, blinding succession. It was only after he had finished stabbing her, as the mind went into shutdown mode, that the last image, that of her mother's face in an autumn scene, dissipated into nothingness.

---------

"Where do you think Seras could be?" Her mother frantically asked her husband. She was looking out the windows and praying that something hadn't happened to her precious little girl. It was a horrible thought, she couldn't possibly bear it. As she continued muttering, worrying, and praying for an answer to that one question, her husband went over to the closet and got out his beloved trenchcoat. "I'm going out there to look for her," he said, before noticing his firstborn child standing behind him.

"I'm coming too." Leka said.

"Fine. I could use the help."

The two donned their gear and got into the family car, speeding off into the darkness in search for lost child. Sister. Daughter. Neither of them, nor the worried woman with her last, confused child, knew that Seras was dead. They would have to discover that for themselves in due time.

-------

Seras' family had called the police just sometime before then. Her mother, in an exasperated tone of voice, gave every single detail about Seras to the police, even if it was irrelevant and unnecessary to have known. She was frantic, offering to help find her daughter with the authorities, demanding that she be found, sounding more like a vigilante with bloodlust than a common Tagorian housewife. Her husband was trying to counsel his children, while her son was spending more and more time with his girlfriend, confiding in her the news as it developed.

Bezhet nodded his head, as Mrs. Terek finished speaking. ".....I assure you that we will do whatever we can to find your daughter but, please, tell me if there's been any problems in the household....."

Mrs. Terek's eyes widened in confusion. "Problems?"

"Yes. This term means abuse, marital problems, the usual."

"No! Not only do my husband and I have a prosperous marriage, but I would never hurt my own children!" Mrs. Terek proclaimed feverishly, anger in her voice.

"I'm sure you get all the lovemaking you can want, Mrs. Terek, but there's no need to shout about it. Now, can you tell me if your daughter's been seeing anyone at school?"

"Just her friends." Mrs. Terek said. She wasn't one to think Seras could be seeing anyone she wasn't supposed to be seeing. Seras wasn't that kind of girl. "She's often with her best friend, Zsara Sterasek."

"Sterasek?" Bezhet said, writing the name down into his notebook. "Alright, then, we'll check her out first. Thank you for your time. I wish your family well, Mrs. Terek."

She left his office, while Bezhet pulled out a copy of Seras' portrait. He stared at it, placing it on his desk. Sighing, he shrugged and took out his personal tin of chocolates. "Such a cute girl. What a fucking waste," Bezhet scowled, before shoving a handful of chocolates into his mouth.

He knew what he had to do. He just didn't have the courage to tell Mrs. Turek that her daughter was dead. He didn't have the corpse but he figured that the girl would be dead. That's how these cases went.

But, soon enough, he would.

------

One night, a young couple hoping to make out in an alleyway were French kissing when they saw an ashen white hand jut out of a mound of trash. They looked at it, and saw that it was attached to the corpse of a fourteen year old girl. By then, Bezhet had been humping his wife as they kissed, her scantily clad body under his rugged, muscular own, and when the phone rang, he knew almost mechanically what it was about.

"It's the department, dear," he said, "They've found the fallen angel."

-----

Bezhet raced down to the crime scene while his manhood became flaccid with the lack of action, and he regretted not spending just a bit more time at satisfying his wife. Although he was devoted to his work, he hated the moments in his career when sexual relations with the woman he loved had to wait. As he walked around, the cold wind blowing while the frantic couple were being interrogated, Bezhet knelt down to peer into the dead girl's half open, frozen eyes. They were shiny, glossed over with the imprint of death, and his eyes examined every part of the corpse in meticulous detail. The number twelve was found on her backside, and Bezhet didn't seem too sickened by it. He knew it was the killer's calling card.

"Someone get a fucking stretcher over, please." Bezhet said, irritatedly, desiring not to see the defiled girl's corpse any longer than he had. As time passed, he listened to his colleagues offer their theories before he got into his cruiser and drove down to the police department, where the transcripts of his interviews with the friends of the girl had been kept. After finishing up a report, he drove down to Seras' family's house to confess, to make known her death.

"You can't be sure that it's our daughter." Seras' mother said. She had no idea what had happened.

Later on in the night, as Bezhet walked towards his cruiser, he turned around and saw the black silhouette of the housewife in emotional agony, falling into the bosom of her husband. He sighed, and drove away.

Out of hell.

[Motokata]

Back in Motokata it seemed the trail was growing cold. It was driving her crazy as she poured through the files wondering where the creep was. She had enough she was heading home it was late.

------------------------------

Koichi was very proud of what he had done he was already on the prowl for his next potential victims. If all the girls in this country were as clueless and naive as her it would be just so easy. He didn't mind the ease. He had found her, but it was growing light he would make his move tomorrow. Come morning he made his way to a pet store and bough a puppy to lure someone with. His plan of attack catch the stragglers in the park let his puppy off the leash get them to help him find it.

[The Tagorian Mountains]

The Tagorian Broadcasting Corporation's station in the small city of Lorallek had learned about the news concerning the brutal rape and murder of fourteen year old Seras Terek and were the first ones to report about it all over Tagorian televisions all over the entire nation. It wasn't an unknown phenomenon, the murder of children being seen over the past few years. Seras Terek was just an unfortunate loss, another of those unfortunately murdered girls, but to her friends and family she would always be more important than just another statistic. There was a dead silence in the air around the Terek household that night, when they were told that Seras was murdered, being shown the corpse that was stored at the local morgue.
Mrs. Terek had fallen in tears upon the corpse of her second child, her tears soaking into the fabric of the plain white sheet that was put over the body before it would be released for burial. While his wife wept, Mr. Terek couldn't help but stare at the ashen white corpse of his beloved child. She looked so innocent, almost like she was sleeping, and he remembered that night when he saw her sleeping, saw her without a care in the world. But that was in the past, a past that he would never again experience and which would haunt him, haunt his family, in new and varied ways for the rest of their lives. That was the first night, in which Mr. Terek acknowledged that fact. As he sat there at the dinner table, they did not speak. Their tongues were rooted to the bottom of their mouths, but then Leka spoke.
“So, then, I guess that's it. I guess she's gone.” He uttered, looking at the empty chair next to him.
The only Terek girl, Arya, looked at him and felt confused. “Gone?”
Leka grew angry immediately with his remaining sibling. “She's fucking dead.”

Mrs. Terek's eyes widened. “Don't say that, son, please don't say that.”
Leka's eyes grew flat, restless with his mother's ignorance of what he knew was the truth. His sister was dead. He knew it. He wasn't one for the bullshit that was having faith in the notion that they were alive, only to discover later on that you've been blind all this time, to the fact that they were truly dead. “Mother, she's dead. She's......”
“No. She is not.” Mrs. Terek said. Her eyes went down to her sticky plate and cutlery.
“Yes, Mom, she is. I don't want to see you get hurt.....” Leka said, trying to help his mother adopt his rationalization of things. But she would not do it. She had chosen to wear the cloak of denial, and figured that it suited her well. As she sat there, listening to her son tell her that, yes, Seras Terek was a dead child, memories began to play in her mind, almost in a sickening loop that makes her head spin. First there was the reliving of the birth. When she bore Seras into the world, and as the doctors were cheering, she held the little child in her arms and smiled, cooing into her tender ears. “You will always be my special little girl.”
Then there was the first day at school. Little Seras was nervous about attending school, but she soon discovered the innate ability within that helped her make so many friends, friends who would stay as such as the years passed. Mother always made her lunches, always sneaked in a little treat, always picked her up from school since Father worked. Once it had been Leka, and a little girl gave him a flower because he resembled someone she liked on television.
Then there was the defining moment of womanhood. The menses that Seras first experienced when she was twelve years old. As the scarlet blood coursed down her thigh, Seras had complained to her mother about it, feeling nauseous and scared about the strange bleeding. “You're a woman now,” Mother had said. “You're a big girl now, and that's more of you for me to love!”
The memories ended, after Seras' thirteenth birthday party had been relived, and then Mother Terek looked up to her son's face with tender saucers that looked like they'd burst out of their sockets. “Mother, I...,” but before a concrete sentence could be form, she slammed her hand onto the table with a bang and shouted violently at her son. “SHE'S NOT DEAD! SHE'S NOT DEAD! SHE IS ALIVE! AFUCKINGLIVE!”
She stood there, then, and then the tears began to fall down her eyes. She ran, then, up to her bedroom and slammed the door shut while Mr. Terek looked at his stoic son, who eventually went for a walk around town sometime afterwards. Mr. Terek drew his palm to his face and sighed, while Arya crept into her room and began to cry.

Marek Bezhet, after revealing the hideous news to the Terek household, returned to the loving embrace of his wife and finished his prior, interrupted work. Yet the sweet dovish moaning of his wife under him was unable to cleanse his mind of the thought that, once again, he had wrecked the lives of innocent citizens again. After finishing with the woman he loved, he let her rest her head on his muscular chest and sighed.
“What's wrong, dear?” His wife asked, looking upward a little at him. The warmth they had between them was soothing for her but not for him. “I've ruined more lives again. What else?”
“You can only live with it,” His wife said, “That's all you can do.”
Marek sighed, and let his hand drift onto his wife's supple breasts. It seemed relaxing to do that.
“How can you live with the fact that you've ruined someone's life?” He said.

Despite Seras' death, the sleepover she planned to attend went ahead as planned. It was like nothing had happened, but the night was spent discussing what had happened in the comfort of Zsara Sterasek's bedroom. She was fourteen, like her dead friend, but more physically developed than Seras had been. At least that was what some of the guys had said in her middle school. As they watched the television, occasionally leaving it on a channel when Seras was discussed,
Zsara looked at the three others, a girl and two boys, and confessed how sorry she was for the Tereks. “They must be in so much pain,” Zsara said, but then she felt hurt, as if someone told her she just said the fucking obvious.
The others sighed, and took dumplings from the tray that was set out for them. The other girl, Vila, spoke after swallowing her dumpling.
“What are we going to do?” Vila said, worried.
“We'll be there for Seras' family,” the first boy, Derek said.
The other boy, Yani, growled. “I want to kill the fucking bastard so much, guys.”

“Don't we all....” Zsara uttered, before the school portrait of Seras Terek stared at them all from the television screen.