Clearly, the woman was dead. The typical rise-and-fall of a chest still struggling for breath, the palpitations of a distressed heart fighting to function. The flicker in the eyes. The grunts and moans and screams. It'd all ceased some while ago, and yet he found that he could not stop. He could not stay his hand.
Again, he stabbed her. This time, the serrated edge of his switchblade entered the right side of the woman's chest, under the ribcage. As quickly as he'd pushed it in, he removed the blade, only to stab her once again, this time in the gut. The blade met little resistance, like he was cutting through hot butter. Blood spurted from this fresh wound, some of it landing on the cuff of his suit, though he'd be lying if he said he cared.
He repeated this process several times, stabbing the corpse in different areas and observing the results. Though the woman had long since stopped screaming, her corpse did seem to stir every now and then. That brought a smile to the kid's face. Ah, yes. He was perfectly content. The woman's blood had begun to pool beneath his feet, though he was careful not to let it stain the fronts his loafers. His mother would have his head if he ruined
another pair of expensive dress shoes.
A small cry caused the kid to perk up, breaking him out of his amused stupor. Instantly, he was alert, scanning the room with his eyes. They'd taken out the lights and the blinds were drawn, so the hotel room was nearly pitch black, with some streamers of sunlight filtering in to dance lazily along the walls. The random mix of sunlight reflecting off the bloodied walls reminded the kid of a kaleidoscope, busily turning over and over in on itself, revealing the sordid secrets the darkness kept hidden.
The remains of a decapitated man lay on the bed in the center of the room. His remained were dressed expertly in a gray suit and tie, both besmirched with clotted blood. Elsewhere lay another man, this one still in one piece, though he remained face down in a particularly large puddle of crimson. There was a petite gash in the back of his neck, at the base of his skull, where some small blade weapon had pierced him. He wasn't moving.
They were both covered in eerie black flames, though they didn't much act like flames. They didn't spread. They didn't immediately consume the corpses. They just sat there, burning, the wisps waltzing to some unknown beat.
A grin slowly wormed its way onto the boy's face as he admired his handiwork, breathing in the scene. Three targets. Three corpses.
Then the kid's eyes landed on something interesting. Something they'd missed.
Behind the dresser and fully cloaked in the cover of darkness cowered a wide-eyed little girl. At first it was hard to spot her, though now that he knew she was there, his eyes had already begun to adjust, making her into more than just a silhouette.
The boy stood, turning his body to face this new person. Interesting! The child looked eight or nine years old. Not much younger than him. She was dressed in a fancy piece of fabric, no doubt a dress crafted specifically for the Vongola ceremony. Unfortunately, it'd been marred by the blood of these inconsiderate corpses. In fact, her being here led the kid to believe that she was related to them. Probably a daughter of one of the deceased. Yeah. That made sense.
It took him but a few steps to make it over to where the girl was hiding. She didn't much react to his presence. Probably still in shock over witnessing the death of her loved ones. The kid made sure to drag his feet across the room's expensive carpet as he moved, just to make sure he wouldn't track blood outside when he left. Plus, he still wanted to keep his shoes clean. Can't fault him for that.
After a few moments of staring down at her menacingly, the boy squatted, the innocent grin returning to his face.
"Hi! I'm Alastor." The kid beamed, his countenance genuine.
"What's your name?" Instead of responding, the girl simply stared at the knife in Alastor's hand, its edge glistening with the blood of his victims. Her parents. Alastor continued.
"Hey, don't worry," he whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder. The physical contact caused her to look up at him, her eyes slowly gaining focus.
"If my mother wanted them dead, she probably had a really good reason. She's not a monster, you know." His stepford smile didn't crack one bit.
"They were probably alien sympathizers, like that Vongola X guy... or at least they will be... or would have been... or are..." Alastor leaned backwards, the majority of his weight on his heels, his face scrunching with concentration. He used the base of his switchblade to scratch the back of his head.
"... or... uhh... were? Whatever, time is stupid."Just then, Alastor's eyes grew large with realization, his grin morphing into a smirk.
"Buuut, that means, in the future," he began, raising his knife above his head, its tip pointed towards the ceiling. His words lost all of their warmth. His eyes gave up their youthful light. The innocence bled from his countenance as if from an angry wound.
"You'll become a problem too, won't you?"Without an ounce of hesitation, Alastor flipped the blade in his grasp, its edge facing downward, and brought the weapon down upon the girl's unprotected head—or, at least, he would have. He froze mid-swing, the blade coming to a stop mere inches from the girl's forehead.
"Stop." The order had come from another. One who was also in the room. The one who'd orchestrated the attack. His voice was deep, tempered by experience and honed by power. It had a certain gravitas to it, like a king unleashing an edict, and Alastor was helpless but to obey.
Looking over his shoulder, the boy eyed the man who'd commanded him. He, too, was dressed in an immaculate black suit and matching tie. He sported an eye-patch over his left eye, his right glowing a soft red in the darkness. He looked like a shadowy demon. Then again, Alastor was pretty sure his eyes matched the man's in both hue and intensity. That'd make him a demon, too, wouldn't it? He almost chuckled at idea.
"Come on, she's—""She is not one of the marked ones," the man stated, his tone indicating that the discussion was over. With both hands he straightened his tie. It was a sharp maneuver. Curt. There were no wasted movements. Without further ado, he pivoted on his heel and began walking towards the room's exit. He didn't need to ensure that the boy would follow because his commands were unequivocal. Undeniable. Absolute.
The black flames that were busy eating away at two of the corpses seemed to jive excitedly as the man strided past them. After a moment, they lept from the corpses and clung to him like loving pets, though he didn't seem to bothered by this. In fact, it appeared as if he were absorbing the flames into his body. An instant later, they ceased to be.
"Tch." Alastor said more, but he chose to mumble the words under his breath. Begrudgingly, he flipped the switchblade closed, tucking it into his sleeve. The smile was gone from his face, replaced by a child's grimace. He was definitely pouting. He gave the girl one last look before turning to follow the man out the door, hands stuffed into his pockets, careful not to step in any more blood.
The main lobby of the Vongola's gymnasium emptied straight to a spacious balcony area, where many suit-and-tie types were greeting each other before moving down the stairs and merging with the main crowd below. Most of the guests entered the lobby via the elevators, which were used to whisk people to and from street-level. There were two long rows of elevators, each opening, releasing a few people, and closing in rhythmic intervals, returning to the surface every now and then to ferry even more suits-and-ties to the starstudded Vongola event.
Out one of these elevators stepped two burly men. From their Secret Service -esque uniforms, it was obvious who they were: CEDEF agents, under the command of Lorenzo DiCaccio. The two men were conversing in an animated fashion, though their voices were constrained to a whisper.
"Yeah, the call just came in about an hour ago, but they're trying to keep it all under wraps," said the man on the left. Immediately upon stepping out of the elevator, he turned and began walking towards the balcony.
"We don't want a panic right before the ceremony.""Chief, you can't be serious," his partner replied, keeping pace.
"Was this DiCaccio's call?""Orders should come down for your squad and the other agents momentarily," he replied, sidestepping the question. He was head of CEDEF's security forces within the auditorium. The commissioned officers that served under him referred to him as "chief," even though he'd indicated on multiple occasions his disdain for the nickname.
"I'm pretty sure the brass is still deliberating. And get this: there were only three casualties."The other agent narrowed his eyes, the wheels spinning in the back of his head.
"The Bovino family is weak, but not that weak. Surely that had security at the hotel?""They did. Not a single bodyguard was killed, only brutalized into unconsciousness. The Bovino heir was also spared.""There was a kid in that mess?""Their daughter, yeah. Apparently she saw all of it, but she isn't speaking yet. And whoever did it... it was a fucking bloodbath, Davis. A bloodbath. Whoever did it was trying to send us a message.""
And right before the ceremony, too." The CEDEF officer, Davis, frowned, pushing his spectacles back towards his face with his forefinger.
"Do we have any leads? Has any other attendee been attacked?""We have no reports of any other attacks." The chief let loose a heavy sigh, wiping the sweat from his brow as he walked. He was not a young man anymore, and all this walking was starting to get to him.
"I'm thinking Trad 6 or the Simon might be involved, but that's just a hunch and we can't go pointing fingers yet. Especially since they're also attendees." The chief paused for a moment before answering the agent's first question.
"There was evidence of unencountered flame types being used. Other than that, we have nothing. Yet."The two agents eventually passed through the tunnel connecting the lobby to the balcony outlet and into the gymnasium. There was a noticeable excitement in the air as people packed the gymnasium below, waiting for the Vongola's big reveal.
"Hey, chief... isn't Barbra here?"The chief nearly tripped at the words. Right. Yes, his wife, the pulitzer-prize-winning journalist, was here in what she called "an official capacity". She wasn't going to miss the Vongola's first public event in decades, and he had to run security as CEDEF brass. That inevitably meant...
"Yeah, she is," he muttered.
"And she probably brought Joey, too." Joey. That was his young son.
Davis chuckled softly.
"The wife gets what the wife wants, huh?""Yeah yeah," the chief said jovially, waving away Davis's banter with his free hand.
"We have an event to secure, remember?""Yes, sir."Several meters ahead of the agents, leaning against the banister that lined the perimeter of the balcony, stood two figures. The first was a man of average height, sporting an olive-colored oversized winter coat, its furred hood resting along his shoulders like the beginnings of a cape. He had his back turned to the CEDEF agents and seemed to be surveying the crowd below. The second was a boy, short, with his back to the banister, a bored expression on his face.
Davis and the boy both caught each other's gazes at the same time. The boy went wide-eyed for a moment before levelling Davis with the most fiendish leer the agent had ever seen on a human being... and he dealt with criminals and vagrants on the regular. The intent behind the expression was obvious:
I'll kill you. With his elbow, Davis nudged his chief who caught sight of the boy's demonic visage almost immediately.
The two CEDEF agents made a beeline towards this new and suspicious target.
Noticing his mistake, the boy completely changed his countenance, adopting a child's smile and breaking eye contact, but it was far too late for that and he knew it. Begrudgingly, he reached over and gently poked the man standing next to him.
Of course the man ignored him, choosing instead to keep his eyes on the crowd below.
As the CEDEF agents drew nearer, the
clack! clack! of their synchronized steps echoing across the ceramic, Davis muttered a question to his superior.
"Do you recognize them?""No," the chief responded, drawing back his long coat and revealing the handle of a gun. He rested his hand there in full view for all to see. Of course, he'd need permission before he could engage, but it could still be used to intimidate.
"I was on the cameras all day. I didn't see anyone even remotely matching their descriptions go through any of the official entrances."Back at the edge of the balcony, the boy poked at the man beside him once more.
"Hey," he whispered, his voice urgent. Still, he was ignored. The boy gripped the fabric of the man's coat and gave a hard tug.
"Alastor."Apparently, this was annoying enough that the man, Alastor, was forced to acknowledge the child.
"What?" He hissed.
"Uh, we kinda have a problem." He gestured with his chin towards the fast-approaching CEDEF agents. Alastor turned just as the agents came to a stop, leaving about a half-meter of space between them.
To Davis, the two looked like twins. They both had similar hair—stringy and black—though the styles were radically different. They also had the same eyes. The same red-amber irises. Similar facial structures. Surely they were from a specific famiglia, though the agent had never seen them before.
Suspicious.
"Identify yourselves," the chief demanded, hand still resting on the gun at his hip.
Immediately, Alastor's expression transformed from a semi-surprised frown into an amiable and well-to-do smile. It looked genuine.
"Good day, agents," Alastor began, his voice and tone warm and pleasant to the ear. He was positively charming.
"Are you doing well?""I said: identify yourselves." He repeated, his tone firm and harsh.
"Certainly," Alastor said, his voice inflecting a bit. He shrunk back a bit, his eyes taking on a slightly-confused look, his voice shaking a bit.
"I'm Alastor. Alastor Rizzo. And this here is my—" he paused for a millisecond longer than normal, though the agents didn't notice
"—brother. My little brother. We call him Al. He's kinda shy though, just turned 11 yesterday." Alastor looked down at the boy.
"Say hi, Al."The boy Al's expression had morphed to one of reticence. He'd shifted towards taciturnity, his shoulders hunched, his eyes cast downward, his posture becoming soft and demure. To any onlooker, he looked like an innocent and unassuming child.
"H-hi," he muttered meekly, grabbing onto Alastor hand with one of his own, keeping his eyes cast downward.
The air between the two CEDEF agents and the two brothers changed, with the agents becoming a bit less sure of themselves.
Davis reached for his 2-way radio.
"Control, I need you to check a name for me," he said, depressing the radio's call button as he spoke.
"An Alastor. Rizzo." He over-enunciated, speaking slowly so as to not be misheard.
"He has a brother here, too. An Al."He got a response almost immediately.
Will do.While Davis radioed in, the chief kept pressing.
"Do you have identification?" With a smile, Alastor reached into his pocket and withdrew a wallet, handing it to the agent. In it was a license that had his name and picture on it.
"And why are you here, Mr. Rizzo?"The warmth of Alastor's smile even reached his eyes.
"Just to observe. We wouldn't miss this for the world! Isn't that right, Al?""Observe?" Davis replied, his tone skeptical.
Al, still clinging desperately to Alastor's hand, nodded quickly.
"Mommy wanted to be here, but she said we should come instead." Alastor followed up by chuckling, a fluffy sound full of joy.
"Don't be scared, Al. The nice men just wanna know more about us.""L-like... friends?" He pronounced it "fwiends".
"Yeah!" Alastor mussed Al's hair with his hand, eliciting a smile from the boy.
"Just like friends." He turned back to the agents.
"Isn't that right, gentlemen?"At that point, Davis's radio sputtered to life.
CEDEF-12, this is Control. Without taking his eyes off the pair, Davis reached for his radio, depressing the call switch.
"Go ahead Control." It was a second before he got a response, the silence deafening.
That name you gave us, Alastor Rizzo.The agents looked at Alastor, who simply smiled with his entire face, his eyes becoming narrow. He waved slightly with his free hand, as if to say
that's me.
CEDEF-12. Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo. It checks out. He's on the admittance list.The two agents first looked at each other, then at the radio, and then at Alastor and his brother.
"Er, yeah." The chief handed Alastor his wallet back.
"Sorry about that, guys.""No problem at all!" Alastor motioned with his hands.
"Perish the thought, you're just doing your jobs. There're a lot of bad people out there.""Yeah, definitely. Thank you very much for understanding." The chief said, bowing slightly in apology.
"Please, enjoy the rest of the ceremony.""We will, thanks."With looks of embarrassment fresh upon their faces, the two agents turned and began walking away, headed for one of the staircases that lead to the gymnasium's ground floor, where a majority of the guests were currently located.
"That'll teach us to profile people, huh," the chief muttered, sighing.
"Can't let crap get to us, Davis, or we'll get sloppy.""Yeah. They just... something was off about them.""Something's off about everyone." The chief replied, his tone becoming softer. He was staring off into the crowd below as he spoke, a smile spreading across his face as if he'd just seen something incredibly beautiful.
"Gotta let the detective thing go, man. You're CEDEF now."Davis couldn't help but crack a grin at that.
"Yes, sir."CEDEF-12, this is Control.Davis reached for the radio. He slowed his pace as he did, lagging behind his superior, who'd already reached the top of the staircase.
"Go ahead, Control."CEDEF-12, be advised, there is no entry here for a brother to an Alastor Lorenzo Koenig Rizzo or an "Al" on the admittance list or anywhere in our records."What?" Davis didn't depress the call button that time, but still spoke as if expecting confirmation. Immediately, he narrowed his eyes in suspicion, turning back towards the pair of brothers. Alastor gave him a curt wave, the smile returning to his face. Though he'd tried to conceal it, Alastor had been watching the two agents like hawks the entire time. The kid, Al, hid behind Alastor's leg, hand still grasping his brother's.
The agent's eyes went wide. He'd just noticed something.
Davis began walking at a brisk pace, except he wasn't headed towards his chief and the stairs. He was headed back towards the duo. As he approached, Alastor maintained his sanguine demeanor, but the boy, Al, frowned deeply, his eyes narrowing, the innocence visibly draining from his countenance. He let go of Alastor, placing both of his hands behind his back instead.
When Davis came within arm's reach of the duo, he completely ignored Alastor's greetings, instead kneeling and snatching at Al's right wrist. He caught it.
A look of shock flashed across Alastor's face.
"Sir!" He began, his tone indignant.
"You're being very rude to my—!""Shut up." Davis interrupted, holding up Al's hand as if it were some sort of prize. The boy struggled to remove his hand from the man's grip, but it was to no avail.
"You see this shit?" He nodded towards the kid's wrist, his tone caustic. There, on the otherwise pristine white cuff of his suit, were speckles of red.
Upon noticing it, Alastor's visage of the "perfect-happy-man" cracked ever so slightly.
"This?" He held up Al's cuffs.
"I know this. This is blood.""Ah, sir," Alastor began, his voice calm.
"Surely—""Shut the fuck up," he snapped.
"You two are coming with us."Several meters behind the agent was the chief, who'd just noticed his fellow agent hadn't followed him. At a jog, he was rapidly closing the distance. Noting that his chief was inbound, Davis returned his full attention to the boy before him, his expression steely and confident.
Al responded with the icy stare of a hardened criminal, his red-amber irises nearly glowing with the effort. From the sleeve of the remaining hand he had hidden behind his back dropped a small elliptical black object. It landed silently in the boy's palm. Without looking back at or moving his arm, he flicked a switch on the object, causing a sharp silver blade to pop out without making a sound.
It was a switchblade.
Suddenly, Al sneezed. It was a big one that rocked his little body. He stepped forward, as if regaining his balance. The force of the sneeze combined with his pushing against the agent with his arm caused Davis to lose his glasses, which fell from his face and onto the ground. It was painfully obvious that the boy had done this on purpose.
Davis frowned at him for a few moments before reaching down to pick up his spectacles.
And that's when Al struck.
Brandishing the weapon for all to see, the boy reached up and slammed the blade—its metal coated in mysterious black flames—straight into the base of Davis's skull. There was no hesitation in his actions. There was no mercy in his eyes. Only glee.
However, before the attack could connect, Alastor snatched Al's hand out of the air, knife and all, pressing his thumb into the boy's wrist and twisting it around his back, forcing the hand upwards towards his shoulder blades. It was a particularly brutal hammerlock, and it had been executed expertly. Al yelped in surprise but didn't otherwise move, lest his shoulder become dislocated. Alastor wasn't finished, however. He squeezed hard on the boy's knife hand, causing the sharp metal handle of the switchblade to dig into his tender skin. Even when blood began to dribble from the boy's hand and onto the floor, Alastor refused to relent, and Al refused to cry out.
The kid had to be punished for this insolence.
Davis returned his glasses to his face. It was just then that the chief came upon the scene, and he'd seen everything. Without delay, he went for his weapon, unfastening the protective slip and nearly drawing it from its holster. It was the tone of Alastor's voice that gave him pause.
"You two are CEDEF, right?" By now, Alastor's face had changed. It was as if he'd been swapped with a completely different person. The agents could see it in his eyes. He'd become cold. Calculating. Dangerous.
"And you," Alastor motioned to the chief with his chin.
"You look like you're high up in the ranks." The chief narrowed his eyes, but Alastor continued.
"I was watching you. Primitive people tend to stare at shiny objects, don't they?"The chief took a step forward.
"Enough. Come with us—""You don't get it, soldier-man. I was watching you. Just now." Alastor motioned with his chin.
"Those kids over there. You were awfully interested in them." Alastor's eyebrows shot up, as if his question weren't rhetorical.
"You have a kid here?" The color drained from the agent's face. Alastor continued, a smile touching his lips.
"Ah. I thought so." Alastor turned his head, looking over his shoulder and down at the crowd.
"You see that guy next to those kids?" He motioned with his chin to the gaggle of kids who'd surrounded a particular gold-haired young man. This man was dressed in a long-sleeved green shirt and loose khaki-colored cargo pants.
"His name is Cornelius. He's a good friend of mine—one of several I have at this event. Loyal. Ready to flip on a dime."Alastor nodded slightly as he spoke his next words, he eyes boring into the agent's, his voice growing softer in volume yet more intense. More dangerous.
"You wanna know what he can do to those kids?" He didn't wait for a response, shaking his head from side to side as if answering for the agent.
"You don't wanna know what he can do to those kids." Alastor took a step forward, once again nodding as he spoke.
"Wanna know what he'll do to your kid?" Again, he didn't wait for a response, shaking his head on the agent's behalf. This time, however, he let the silence sit for a few moments before continuing, his eyes growing wide, taking on a frenetic quality. He looked like a man capable of anything.
"You don't wanna know what he'll do to your kid."The agent didn't respond. He just stood there, frozen. The other agent, Davis, looked up at his superior for direction.
"Chief?" Still, he did not respond. Beads of sweat had taken to his forehead. The man was assessing his options.
"Chief?" Davis repeated, his tone hinting at exasperation.
"Are we going to take them?""Check," Alastor uttered, sighing in contempt. Like a flash flood, the menace in his expression and demeanor vanished, replaced again by the visage of the perfect-happy-man. He sported a smile so warm and genuine that the skin around his eyes wrinkled.
"No false moves, okay? I'd hate a repeat of the Bovino family tragedy." He met the chief's eyes once more.
"Do we understand each other, soldier-man?""Chief?!" Davis repeated a third time, looking for direction.
It was then that the agent made his decision. Abruptly, he turned on his heel and began to walk away, refastening the strap that held his gun to his belt. He was headed for the staircase at a nonchalant pace, as if the past five minutes hadn't even happened.
Davis did a doubletake before releasing his death grip on Al's wrist and jogging to catch up with his superior. The two men moved downstairs and disappeared into the crowd.
"Checkmate," Alastor uttered as they disappeared, a viciously arrogant smirk spreading across his face. A while later, he released his grip on Al's knife hand. The boy nearly cried out at the sharp pain that exploded in his shoulder. Instantly, Al dropped the knife, the bloody thing clattering to the floor. He brought his hand in front of his face, eyeing the damage.
"You jerk," Al hissed.
"You fool," Alastor snapped in retort.
"The Vongola guardians aren't even here yet. Creating a scene now would have given us away. Get it?"From the front jacket pocket of his suit, Alastor removed the red handkerchief, using it to wipe Al's blood from his hand.
"One day you'll learn the value of patience." Al was just staring at his bleeding hand, saying nothing. Without warning, Alastor wrapped the handkerchief around the boy's wound. It was large enough to completely surround his small hand twice over. With a tug, Alastor tied off the handkerchief, fashioning a makeshift bandage.
"I know this for a fact."Al didn't respond, choosing instead to kneel and retrieve his switchblade, which he buffed on the leg of his suit pants before returning it up his sleeve. Once again, Alastor turned his back to the rest of the balcony, his gaze panning over the crowd of suit-and-tie types below him.
After a while, Al joined him, balancing his weight atop the balcony railing with his forearms.
"Was that an okay move, letting them go?""Hah." Alastor looked back over at Cornelius, who was still talking to the children around him in an animated fashion.
"They know their place now. People are my playthings, afterall. Speaking of..."Alastor held up his index finger. Through a series of practiced hand signals, he could communicate to his people the location of any target. Like local GPS for any Rizzo that happened to be watching. If they caught his eye in return, they could signal him to request a specific Vongola's location. Just now, Alastor had spotted the one person he'd been waiting all day for.
Reida Sawada. The number one. The legendary Vongola XI.
She'd begun to make her way forward towards the podium and staging area at the far back of the auditorium. Arriving along with her was the Vongola's Sun guardian, the young Trevor Sawada. As a person, Alastor didn't much care for children. Too insolent. Too naive.
He shot a glance at Al, who remained wholly unaware.
He'd also been tracking the movements of the Mist guardian. The race-traitor Shaji Ai. He'd read all about her. Just as well, he noted the existences of the Cloud and Storm guardians, Rosa Kuromaku and Troy Takumi, the latter appearing a bit later than expected.
He couldn't help but grin. He'd just signaled to a particular person in the crowd. The target of his correspondence was a large clean-shaven muscular man in a trenchcoat, dressed like a highly decorated general in some country's military, his stringy black hair gelled-over into a series of small stylish spikes. His only oddity was the eye patch he sported.
"Looks like my King piece is on the move. Just a few more Vongola to go and things can finally get started."