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Disclaimer: Weiss Kreuz and its related characters and situations belong to Tsuchiya Kyoko, Koyasu Takehito and Project Weiss. 'The Cell' was produced by New Line Cinema, directed by Tarsem Singh, and written by Mark Protosevich. I'm not making any money (from this or anything else) so suing me would really be a waste of your time! C&C is ALWAYS appreciated, flames will be laughed at, MSTed and sent to various MLs to be laughed at further, and cheerfully used to roast marshmallows. Author's note:The serial killer in 'The Cell' was so perfectly suited to a Weiss mission that I just HAD to write this. I'm unoriginal, so sue me. ^_^ 'Kodoku' means 'lonely' Race Against Time "This guy's a real sicko," Ken commented with a kind of morbid fascination as he flipped through the mission photos. Picture after glossy picture showed the pale, almost waxen, lifeless features of the latest victims of the serial killer the media had dubbed 'the Doll Killer'. These were crime scene photos, obtained from the police files by Kritiker, and they showed each victim from dozens of angles. Omi gulped, looking a little pale himself. "Hidoi," he whispered, the corners of his mouth tightening as he switched to a new set of papers. He'd drawn the job of researching the victims' backgrounds, trying to find a connecting clue the police had somehow overlooked. Of the three jobs, his was the easiest by far, but Ken didn't begrudge it to him. Just an occasional glimpse of the photos was turning the boy a distinct green colour, and he wouldn't be of any use to them if he was busy emptying his stomach in the bathroom. Youji was scanning the coroner's reports, looking for something that might lead them to the killer's hideout. "You gotta admit he's thorough," the lanky playboy sighed, raking a hand through his hair to pull it off his face. "Not a trace of a damn thing that he couldn't have bought in a grocery store anywhere in the country. No fingerprints, no skin under the victim's fingernails, no blood - nothing." "There doesn't seem to be any connection between the victims, either," Omi added in frustration. "Just that they're all teenage boys. Backgrounds, education, location - all different. And except for that one set of twins, none of them knew any of the others." He echoed Youji's sigh, slumping back into his seat. "It just doesn't make any sense! Serial killers don't take victims at random - there's always a pattern. 'Young males' just isn't enough of a profile to make sense!" Ken frowned, staring down at the photos in his hands. There had been eight victims so far, and each of them had been discovered the same way. The bodies had been soaked in bleach, turning the skin an impossible white shade and lightening the hair to pale brown. Then they'd been dressed in hand-made formal clothes and tied to rocks or weights, and dumped into a shallow body of water, floating just beneath the surface so they'd be found before the water had done much damage. A few, who had been found only an hour or so after they'd been dumped, had fading traces of expertly applied makeup on their faces. They looked like grotesque china dolls - hence the nickname. But the strangest thing of all was the method of death. They'd been drowned, the water in their lungs too pure to be from the same source they'd been found in, leaving their skin flawless and free of marks. Then removed from the water, bleached and dressed, then dumped into these little ponds and lakes. Never the same dumping place, and never anywhere near where he'd first caught them. The bleach removed any fingerprints, and destroyed any bits of skin or hair that they might have been able to get a DNA trace on. The bodies inevitably turned up five or six days after the boy was reported missing, and there was no sign of physical violence of any kind, leading the homicide squad to suspect the victims were being knocked out with gas or chloroform. Ken shuffled the pictures, selecting the best shots of each of the boys' faces. He lined them up before him, looking for a visual clue as to why these particular boys had been chosen. The last of them had been found two weeks ago now, which meant it was only a matter of days until the killer struck again. The police had no clues, not even the hope of a clue, and Kritiker wasn't doing much better. He sighed and propped his chin on his fist, leaning his elbow on his knee as he studied the pictures. There had to be some similarity between them! If it wasn't in their backgrounds, then it had to be visual. Omi was right - serial killers always had a profile, something specific they looked for in their victims, and 'young males' was too broad a definition. What else did they have in common? He blinked, looking a little closer. "Hey, guys..." he said, hesitantly. Omi and Youji both looked up from their work. Ken tapped the photos of the faces. "I think I might have something. Take a closer look at these kids. Ignore the bleach, and the little bit of water damage. What do you notice?" Omi just blinked at them, uncomprehending, but Youji caught on quickly. "They're all bishounen!" he exclaimed, turning three of the photos around so he could see them right side up. "Omi, do we have pictures of the victims before they were taken?" Omi nodded and scrambled for another folder, yanking out a set of photos. Most were school photos, taken just a few months ago at the start of the school year, but a few were from family portraits. Every one of the boys was delicate and more than a little feminine in appearance, and each had a striking beauty. Five of the eight had long hair, enhancing the ethereal impression. "They're all beautiful," Youji said again. "Every one of them. Most of them could pass for a girl with very little effort. That certainly narrows down the profile a little!" "Could we have a pedophile on our hands?" Ken asked, eyes narrowed as he studied the photos. Youji shook his head. "No. The reports are very clear on that - no signs of sexual abuse at all. Of course, that doesn't mean he's not attracted to them, it just means he's not actually doing anything about it." He thought for a moment. "He might be angry at his own attractions, and killing off people who arouse them in punishment. Or... Omi, what's wrong?" Glancing over, Ken saw that Omi was clutching one of the school photos with a death grip, and he looked even paler than before. "I... I know him!" he whispered in shock. "Matsura Ishino. He's in my calculus class! I..." His expression was stricken, his eyes full of guilt. "I didn't even realize he'd been missing. I mean, I knew he wasn't in class, but I thought..." He choked on a sob and turned away. Ken glanced at the picture Omi was holding. It was the latest victim, kidnapped just two weeks ago. He reached out and put a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. "Omi, you can't blame yourself. Two weeks isn't really very long to be out of school - you've been out longer than that with injuries sometimes, and no one really says anything about it. He could have been sick, or away, or - you had no way of knowing, so don't feel bad." Omi shook his head. "We were friends. The other kids always teased him, and I guess I was the only one he could trust to be nice to him. So he always came to me for help with his assignments..." His breath hitched, and his lower lip trembled. "Omi," Youji said, copying Ken's pose. "I know this is upsetting you. But it might be the break we've been looking for. Can you think of anything that might have set this kid apart, made him different, marked him for this killer?" Omi drew a deep breath. "He was... well, he was... like that. You know. He didn't like girls. That's why everyone always teased him. I asked him once why he kept his hair so long, since it just gave the other kids more ammunition against him, and he told me that he'd given up trying to hide it a long time ago, and just accepted what he was." He shook his head. "He was very sweet, and very forgiving. He never hated the others for making fun of him, he was just sad that they were afraid of someone just because they were different." There was a glint of excitement in Youji's eyes. "If we researched these other kids, how much do you want to bet they were all known or suspected to be gay?" Omi sniffled, wiping away the tears trembling on his lashes with the back of his hand, and turned back to his papers. "It's not in their backgrounds," he said, scanning them rapidly. "But then again, that isn't the sort of thing that gets advertised. It sounds so stereotypical to think that just because they were all pretty, they must all be... like that... but..." "But if it's the stereotype that he's going for, then we've got our profile," Ken finished for him grimly. "Male, between the ages of fourteen and eighteen - except for that one twenty-year-old, and he looked about sixteen - beautiful in a feminine way, and possibly gay. And that's just the sort of connection the police might not think to look for, too." "So, what do we do now?" Youji asked, rolling his eyes. "Stake out every cute gay guy in Tokyo?" "Youji-kun!" Omi spluttered, blushing furiously. Ken had to chuckle at him - he was so cute when he got flustered. "You better watch out, Omittchi, you fit all but one requirement," Ken teased him. Omi blushed harder. "Yeah, he might grab you by mistake, bishounen," Youji added, grinning. "Mou, ii! You guys teasing me isn't going to get this solved any faster!" Omi protested their treatment, flapping the papers in his hand at them. It might have degenerated into a full-scale teasing session, if Aya hadn't chosen that moment to stalk down the stairs into the mission room. Instantly all signs of levity were gone. "Find anything?" Ken asked their taciturn leader. Aya shook his head. "Nothing. I checked all the places the bodies were found, and there wasn't a sign of how they got there. No one saw anything suspicious. No sign of boats being dragged up on shore, or tire tracks near the site. I even went to all the places the victims were last seen, but there's nothing there, either." The others knew just how worried Aya was by the length of that speech. It seemed like the more a mission concerned him, the more he would tend to talk about it. Omi sighed. "Well, we've got something, but it's not much." Aya glanced at him, one eyebrow raised, and he elaborated. "All the victims are young males, which the police already knew, but they're also very feminine-looking males. And we know for certain at least one of them was... was..." He blushed again. Youji snickered. "Was gay. Omi, why do you have so much trouble saying that word?" Omi glared at him. "Because it's rude, Youji-kun! Mou. Anyway, we suspect the others may have been as well. We should try talking to their friends and family tomorrow, if we can manage it without being suspicious." Aya nodded. "We should also let Manx know, so she can feed the information back to the police. This is one case where I will not mind if we don't get the kill." They all nodded in agreement. This case wasn't anything like their usual missions, but the killer had been so difficult to catch that Kritiker had gotten in on it. If the police were able to solve this one with just a little help on information gathering from Weiss, so much the better. Omi stood and stretched, glancing around. "Well, I don't see that there's much more we can do tonight," he said, glumly. "Would you guys mind if I went out for a while? I'd like to clear my head, and I kinda half-promised some people from school that I'd hang out with them for a bit tonight, if I had time." There was a semi-wistful look on his face that spoke volumes for his desire to spend some time just being a normal high school kid for a change. Aya's hard countenance softened, and he nodded. "Go on, Omi, and enjoy yourself if you can. There'll be enough work tomorrow." Omi smiled sweetly back at them, and bounded for the stairs. "Ja, mata ne! I'll see you guys after cram school tomorrow. Don't wait up for me!"
Omi cursed under his breath and shoved at his bike, labouring to get it up the hill. Of all the nights for his tire to blow out! Ken had warned him that it was looking a little worn, and he'd promised to get it changed, but he'd never gotten around to it. And he'd paid for it with a three-inch nail buried to the head in the rear tire, sending him skidding across the - thankfully empty - road. He'd been hoping that a rare night out with his lover would help him calm down, and let him relax and clear his head. Instead he hadn't been able to stop thinking about this latest case, his mind running in little circles around it. He couldn't get the photo of Ishino's pale corpse out of his head. His koi had done his best to relax him, but had finally sent him home and told him to get some rest before he drove them both insane. Omi flushed, and wondered what his teammates would think if they knew that he fit all FOUR parts of the profile. He still remembered the day Ishino had shyly asked him for a date, stuttering and stumbling and blushing so badly that Omi had been afraid he might burst something. He'd been astonished at the offer from his friend, but more shocked at his own anticipatory reaction. He'd accepted the invitation on an impulse he hadn't fully understood at the time, surprising them both. They'd dated for a few weeks, keeping it secret from both Ishino's family and Omi's teammates, and even fooled around a fair bit. They'd quickly come to the conclusion that although they were friends and fairly attracted to each other, they really weren't suited to a relationship. Omi was too headstrong, and tended to run right over the shyer boy. Also, Ishino was very dependant on his boyfriends, relying on them for his self-esteem and needing them to be around all the time. Between school, the flower shop, and Weiss, Omi just didn't have that kind of time to devote to a relationship. And he really hadn't felt comfortable with all the lies he'd had to make up to explain his frequent disappearances when they had a mission. They'd agreed to break up and remain friends, and not long after that Ishino had taken up with a cute transfer student from China. That had been more than a year ago, and they'd drifted apart considerably since then, though they kept in touch. Omi would always remember Ishino with fondness, for helping him through the sometimes-painful realization that his preferences were not what most people would call 'normal'. That was why it hurt him so very badly that he hadn't realized Ishino had been missing for so long. Although he'd come to terms with himself fairly quickly, Omi had continued to keep his relationships secret from his teammates, uncertain how they would react to the news that the youngest Weiss member was more likely to be ogling THEM than the cute girls that surrounded them daily in the shop. It wasn't like there had been a lot to hide - Omi was very picky about his boyfriends, and didn't tend to stay in relationships very long due to his guilt about Weiss. He glanced up from his musings to realize that he'd reached the top of the hill, and gratefully he saw the lights of a gas station just a few dozen meters away. There was a payphone on the corner of the building, and he'd be able to call home and get someone to come pick him up. He felt bad for disturbing them so late at night, but they were likely still up anyway. He pushed his bike up to the building and leaned it against the wall, fishing in his pants pocket for some change. Dropping the coins into the slot, he picked up the receiver and started to dial. He hadn't pushed three buttons before something tugged at his peripheral vision, making him spin around and grab for the darts secreted in his jacket. Too late - a strong hand holding a cloth clamped over his mouth and nose, the free hand grabbing Omi's wrist to keep him from using his weapons. Omi caught a glimpse of a shadowed profile, and wondered how on earth the man had managed to sneak up so close behind him without him noticing. Though he tried not to breathe, his body's demands won out over his determination, and he inhaled the sickly-sweet odour of the cloth. He recognized the scent of chloroform as his limbs started to go numb, the darts falling from his limp fingers. The last thing he thought as the darkness spiraled up to claim him was that he should have paid more attention to Ken-kun's warning. | |
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