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Sheriff Jaguar
was once again going over the case of the Comedy and Tragedy killings.
So far, all the victims had a connection, whether it be as fans or part
of ROOSTVILLE: THE SOAP OPERA. He was trying to figure out who was going
to be next. The town was filled with die-hard fans and it would be impossible
to pinpoint just one. The more he thought about it, he realized all the
victims must have a deeper connection. There must be something else linking
them because the killer wasn't interested in outright genocide or he would
have simply gone in for mass murder. Jet knew something wasn't right but
couldn't figure it out.
"He's here," Earth
Baragon said as he entered the Sheriff's office with Darkside Reject. "You
wanted him for questioning, sir?"
"Yes," Jet said
calmly. "Darkside, have a seat. Now, Mr. Reject, when you first hired Desutoroia
as a cast member for ROOSTVILLE: THE SOAP OPERA, what do you remember?"
"Like what?"
"Such as, do you
remember anyone who may have felt angered towards Desu. There were quite
a few people cut after he signed on. Perhaps a jealous fellow?"
"Sheriff," Darkside
said. “That must've been around eight years ago. I can't recall anyone
off the top of...” He stopped.
“Yes...?” The
Sheriff prompted.
“Rez0007!” Darkside
shouted. “I remember he was really pissed when he found out we fired him
to make way for Desutoroia. He felt he deserved the part, not Desutoroia.”
"Hm. Rez had a
pretty solid alibi when Raptor checked." The Sheriff then recalled many
of Space Varen's accusations towards him as the killer. "Was there anyone
else?"
"There were a
few others who were pretty pissed. Can't remember any names at this point...
I think some of the cast had a grudge as Desutoroia..."
“So, Sheriff,”
Webster cut in. “You think this could explain the clues that have led us
to Desutoroia?”
“I don't know.
It's all speculation at this point. With the victim's connection to the
show and the letters left for Desutoroia, it seems to add up but...”
“But what, sir?”
Webster asked.
“I don't know...
Thank you for your time, Darkside. Webster, escort him out.” He took him
outside to his car to return home.
Darkside soon
reached his beloved mansion and entered cautiously. It was Friday the thirteenth
and pretty dark outside. As he went to go upstairs, the lights went out
and flickered back on in a few seconds. He was feeling pretty scared and
nervous. As he turned around, he thought he saw the dreaded mask of the
Comedy and Tragedy killer out the corner of his eye, the sad mask of torment
and tragedy. The lights went out again before he could determine if what
he saw was real. Darkside started shivering and shaking and pulled out
a gun the Sheriff had licensed him to have. There was a loud bang and he
immediately turned and fired a shot at the stairs as the lights came back
on. There was a footstep behind Darkside. He stood still, scared for his
life. He didn't want to die and was near tears. As he slowly turned around
again to confront the evil killer, the lights went out again. The place
was dark and all he could see was the killer's mask. It was glowing in
the dark and appeared as if the killer was a head without a body. Movement
made it appear as a dreadful and evil ghost. Darkside was too scared to
fire at the monster and dropped his gun as he fell back onto the stairs.
A deep, demonic
sounding voice said, “You know who I am.”
Darkside was on
the ground, crying and weeping, afraid he was going to die. It was dark
but he could make out the shape of the killer's hand reaching for his neck.
The lights began to go on and off, creating an eerie effect and allowing
him to see the hateful eyes of the killer, the evil, sinful, eyes of death.
Darkside was screaming hysterically as the killer gave him an injection
of anesthetic. The drug put him into a deep sleep.
“You should have
known I would be coming for you, Darkside,” The killer said. “You didn't
think I’d let you get away, did you? Not after our last encounter. You
know who I am.” The killer then removed a bag from his pocket and nailed
it to the door with a letter taped to it. He took Darkside's body out back,
placed him in the passenger seat of his truck and drove away.
When Darkside
woke up, he was in a large empty room. There was a sink and telephone,
on which he tried to dial the Mod Station's number but the phone didn't
work. The room was pretty dark but he saw a doorway leading out and tried
to open it. It was locked from outside. Darkside started to get irritable
and fearful, yet chicken-hearted and timid. He felt haunted by the
sinister presence of the evil serial killer. There was no way on earth
he could ever explain the feelings of horror and anxiety he was feeling
in terror's grip He started shouting to the killer, screaming at him hysterically
and asking if he was going to be killed. Darkside was all alone where no
one would ever find him.
FEBRUARY
14th - Valentine's Day
Desutoroia was
at home, laying in bed and staring at an old picture of his wife, Princess
of Space, feeling lost without her by his side. This was the first Valentine's
Day he was not with her since they were married and Desutoroia was feeling
rather sad. He had bought his wife something special for this day weeks
before he had been murdered on July 8th, 2014. After feeling sorry for
himself and rather depressed, Desutoroia finally decided to get up, shower
and get dressed. Once that was done, he was about to retrieve the newspaper
from his mail box. Jenny was just about to knock on his door.
“Hey,” she said.
“It's Valentine's today and I'm all lonesome and know you might be feeling
the same so I...”
“Yeah. Sure.”
Desutoroia replied. He didn't know what she had planned but he didn't want
to be alone, especially on this day. He wasn't thinking about Khandejifer
much recently. Jenny smiled back at him and he invited her in.
Meanwhile, Darkside
was wandering around the small, concealed room when he heard the sound
of a P.A. system turning on. He looked all around but could see no speakers.
“Hello, Darkside,”
said the deep and evil voice of the killer. He was hiding his true voice
with the same device he used when he had called Desutoroia.
“Why am I here?!”
Darkside shouted.
“You know who
I am...” The evil killer whispered. “It's buried in your sub-conscious.
I can't allow you to tell anyone.”
Darkside was a
nervous wreck and close to insanity but asked, “Are you going to kill me?!”
“That depends.”
“On... on... on
what?!”
“On you,” the
killer replied.
“On... on me?
Wh-what do you mean? What must I do... or... not do?”
“How would you
like to make your acting debut?” the killer asked grimly.
“What?”
“Go to the door.”
Fearful for his life, Darkside did just that and found a piece of paper
under it that wasn't there earlier. He picked it up.
“Go over to the
phone and call your friend, Jennifer,” the killer demanded. “Then, read
your scripted lines.”
“B-b-but the phone
doesn't work,” Darkside stated nervously.
“It does now!”
Darkside moved over to the phone and picked it up. He could now hear a
dial tone and was surprised.
“Call Jennifer,”
the Killer demanded. “This is the last time I ask.” Darkside nodded and
dialed. The phone rang for a few seconds.
“Hello, Jennifer.
It's Darkside.”
“Oh, Darkside,
hey. What's going on.”
“No-nothing. Wh-what
are you doing today?” he asked. It sounded almost like he was reading the
words, Jenny thought.
“Oh. Me and Desutoroia
have special plans for today.” She looked over at Desutoroia and smiled
at him.
“Could you two
go over to my house?” Darkside asked. “I'm out of town and I’d appreciate
it if you'd take care of my dog.”
“Sure thing,”
Jenny said.
“Thanks.” Darkside
hung up the phone. “Now what?!” he shouted at the killer.
“Now... it's time
to discuss my next victims, and when and where they'll die.”
*****
“Who was that?”
Desutoroia asked.
“Darkside Reject.
He wants me to go over to his house to check up on his dog since he's away
now.”
“I’ll come too,”
Desutoroia said, afraid that after his last dream, Khandejifer might decide
to try and kill her.
They drove over
to Darkside's mansion and found a strange package nailed to the door with
a letter attached to it.
“Darkside must
have left this for us,” Jennifer figured. Desutoroia pulled it off the
door. He took the letter off, opened the bag and dropped it on the ground
in shock. Out rolled a rotten, bloody heart of a human.
“Oh my God!” Jenny
screamed. Desutoroia unfolded the letter and read it:
Dear
Desutoroia and Jenny
Happy
Valentine's Day.
-The
Comedy and Tragedy Killer
PS:
The heart belonged to District Attorney Freek Wallace.
*****
Rodan2000 and
his friends walked aimlessly through the horrible mansion. Watching the
walls, they all saw terrible sights and stories depicted and horrible thoughts
conveyed.
"This place is
starting to creep me way out," said Prince of Space.
"Definitely!"
R2K agreed.
"Be quiet," Hozay
commanded, silencing them. "We are in a very dangerous section. Sleeping
monsters dwell here; they must not be wakened." R2K's eyes widened with
uncertainty and he looked at his friends in a bit of fright.
"What kind of...
monsters..." he said in a frightened stutter. Hozay gave him a look.
"Deadly ones.
The Faerun Sentinels."
"Oh, CRUD!" he
shouted. Groups of glowing red eyes opened around the group and eerie lights
illuminated the beasts; hundreds of Gargoyle like creatures shaped like
griffins surrounded them, watching with evil grimaces.
"Oh crud..." R2K
repeated quietly.
"I tried to warn
you..." Hozay began while Rodan searched desperately for some means of
escape. He spied something on the ground. It was another medallion.
"Yes, booyah."
He placed it over his head as screeches issued from the stone griffins
around them.
"Everybody hold
on tight!" he yelled as a greenish mist enveloped his eyes and came over
the group, turning the friends a blue hue. There was a flash of light and
the group disappeared in a burst of light as the chaotic monsters began
to lunge at them but they were gone.
With a flash of
light, the gang reappeared somewhere else in the mansion. Rodan2000 scrambled
to remove the medallion. Gazing at it, he saw the engraved hieroglyphic
on the front was a picture of a fiery destruction that seemed to move,
showing a monster arising from the chaos. Chaos Rodan. Yuri reached out
to touch it but he yanked it away.
"You mustn't touch.
No can."
"And why not?"
she asked.
"This thing is
very dangerous. This medallion gives me the power of Chaos Rodan but the
power is extraordinary. It's extremely hard to control and even then, it's
still dangerous to use. I can never use this unless in dire circumstances
like back there..." he shuddered.
"What were those
things..." Prince asked.
"They were the
Faerun Sentinels. They are evil creatures, invincible spawn from the very
anger of Bhaal, brought to life as living personifications of him. My master's
anger, hate and madness. They are endless and evil and invincible. They
have no weaknesses and do nothing but kill. Any questions?"
"Well, that sums
things up. Let's go," said Prince and even Hozay agreed. "Where are we
now?"
"I don't know.
That's how powerful that medallion's power is. It took us away but I had
no control to where we were going," Rodan replied.
"Luckily, we landed
at the beginning of the next level of my mansion. There's only three more
levels left. If we hurry, we can make it out the through the secret vault,"
Hozay explained. There was a horrible growl from somewhere behind them.
"Hurry! We must leave, now!" he urged and they ran further into the deadly
palace.
*****
Sheriff Jaguar
thought back to when Desutoroia first arrived in Roostville. Prior to that,
he was in Maser City with his friend, Hozay, and his fiancee, Mallory.
Desu didn't become famous until late 2007 and soon built Desu Mansion.
He had gone about his literary endeavors and managing his banks and other
holdings before becoming a TV star and the best looking, richest, most
eligible bachelor in Roostville. Hozay had returned to Canada.
The Sheriff once
again was drawn back to that seemingly ever-present TV show. Thanks to
the wonders of modern digital videography, production costs were minimal
(and so was talent as far as most of the cast was concerned). Money didn't
appear to be a motive because most of the actors had REAL jobs or other
means of support besides their TV work. C-R-V sure hadn't been making a
killing off it. JJ suddenly stopped his thought processes, realizing he
had made another "bad joke", as the humans would say. He quickly got back
to his initial analysis protocol and considered all the licensed merchandise
the show had spawned. Now THAT could be a real cash cow, he figured, but
that revenue was going into Darkside's big motion picture project.
Mecha-Kumonga
had mentioned C-R-V's concern about the murder victims' strange make-up
and how he thought it had something to do with the show. He was also concerned
about HIS safety. Kumonga didn't think it would be a good idea to pull
the show and they were going to try to come up with some way to keep it
on the air when CR ended up dead. Jet figured he might check out those
forecast figures he had run on the impact another hiatus would have.
Darkside had mentioned
quite a few people were cut from the payroll when Desu signed on in late
2007. Rez0007 was one of those let go and figured he deserved the role
rather than Desutoroia. Even Jet knew he just wasn't "right" for the part.
Still, could Rez be capable of masterminding such an elaborate scenario
as this case was presenting? Jet didn't think so.
C-R-V had wanted
Mecha-Kumonga to blow up the transmission tower so there would be no way
the show could air but he refused to take such drastic measures. His sense
of responsibility to the community was commendable as far as JJ was concerned
and the least he figured he could do to repay him would be to bring his
killer to justice. But who could it be?
Darkside had mentioned
getting ideas for the show from 'real world' happenings. Scripts were often
derived from actual town doings, gossip and even the police blotter to
a great degree and reenacted by the local thespians, of which there seemed
to be enough to stage the siege of the Alamo if anyone would foot the bill
for sets. Sheriff Varan himself had helped out and even taped the season
introduction. Was there a clue in the old cases he had dug up for "inspiration"?
The robot dreaded rewatching the tape, having decided from the start of
his video "sleuthing" of the show NOT to save the various samples to his
memory banks.
And where (or
rather, HOW) did Sheriff Young's unsolved murder case from 2010 fit in,
especially with Desutoroia being found unconscious next to the victim?
The present incarnation of ROOSTVILLE: THE SOAP OPERA didn't begin until
the fall of 2012. In 2013, he met and married the Princess of Space. Desutoroia
was murdered on July 8th, 2014 but revived on December 7 when Princess
sacrificed her own life to save the very world itself. The third season
of the series resumed January 17, 2015 and the Comedy and Tragedy killings
began shortly afterwards. Sheriff Jaguar knew that much but not who was
responsible for the slaughter of so many innocent townspeople.
*****
Desutoroia started
to feel uneasy and uncomfortable, as if someone was watching him. He turned
to his left and dropped the letter to the ground by Freek Wallace's rotting
heart. He spotted someone peeking out at him and Jenny from behind one
of the bushes on Darkside's lawn. Desutoroia ran off.
"Call the Mods,"
he yelled back at Jenny. "Tell them what happened!"
"Wait!" she called.
"Where are you..." She saw a man fleeing as Desutoroia chased after him
and quickly got her cell phone from her purse.
The suspicious
man's face remained hidden from Desutoroia by a blue ball cap. Whoever
he was, he sure could run and was in great physical shape. But unfortunately
for him, so was Desutoroia. The guy had trespassed through a few back yards
and made his way to Sentai Avenue but Desutoroia hadn't lost sight of him.
As they were running, the suspect went through Halomek's yard and jumped
a fence. Desutoroia followed over the tall fence and they were now within
a huge baseball field. The suspect, not looking back, continued on and
tried to run to the far end of the field where he knew he'd be safe but
Desutoroia caught up with him.
"This is where
it ends now..." Desutoroia muttered.
Meanwhile, the
Mods had arrived at the scene. Sheriff Jaguar got out of his car, accompanied
by Gorgozilla and Enshohma. They approached Jenny on Darkside's doorstep
and saw the rotten and decaying heart on the ground and the letter beside
it.
"Gorgo," Jet Jaguar
said with his eyes fixed on Jenny. "Question her." Gorgozilla led her away
from the scene as the Sheriff picked up the letter.
"P.S. The heart
belonged to District Attorney Freek Wallace." He read the last part out
loud as his sensory systems analyzed the letter and found Desutoroia's
fingerprints on it.
"Hey," Jet yelled
out, interrupting Gorgozilla's interrogation. "Desutoroia was here... was
he not?"
"Yes," Jenny said.
"Darkside had called and asked us to..." She couldn't finish and started
to cry when she looked down at the heart of Freek Wallace again.
"Well, where is
Desutoroia now? Do you know?"
"There was someone
watching us... running away. Desutoroia went to... chase after him."
"Shit," Jet Jaguar
said as he turned around and faced Enshohma. "If that's the case, then
any trail could be cold."
"You want me to
go find Desutoroia, sir?" Enshohma asked. "Put out a search for him?"
"No, no," the
Sheriff said. "I've still got to bring him in for questioning concerning
another case... but for now, on Melkor's advice, we leave him alone. He's
been through a lot and we should give him some time."
"Melkor suggested
this?" Enshohma asked.
"Anyway," Jet
noted. "Get the dogs out. See if you can pick up the trail of Desutoroia
and this unknown stranger. If you find them, when you find them, it's the
suspect we want, not Desu."
"Understood, sir."
Enshohma proceeded to set up a manhunt.
At the baseball
field, Desutoroia leapt into the air and grabbed onto the back of the mysterious
man he had chased. The two fell to the muddy ground. Desutoroia flipped
the guy over so he could see him face to face.
"I've got you
now you..." Desutoroia stopped in shock. "Rez0007? But what are you...?"
He let go of him and they both stood up, Rez0007 wiping off some of the
dirt on him. "What the Hell is going on here, Rez?" Desutoroia demanded.
"Well, I'm sorry
if I caused any problems for you and that bimbo," Rez0007 said with the
intention of hurting or pissing him off. "For Christ's sake! If you two
wanted some time alone with each other, Darkside's mansion isn't the place!"
"She's not my
girlfriend, she's just a friend. Now what were you doing, spying on me?"
"Whores and rich
boys don't mix," Rez0007 said, snickering with delight. "Darkside pays
me to take care of his lawn! I was on my way over when I saw you two snoopin'
around the house. I decided to hide behind the bushes to see what you were
up to."
"Then why'd you
run from me?"
"Well," Rez0007
answered with an evil grin. "I didn't know what you'd do to me if you caught
me spying on you but I know now!" He started to walk away. "Now, if you
two don't mind, I'm going home. You're lucky I don't press any charges."
Rez0007 was smiling with delight.
"Why do you keep
insulting Jenny?"
"Well, Desu,"
Rez said with a huge grin. "Every guy in town, 'cept you it seems, has
had a piece of that trash... more than once, too."
"Are you saying
what I think you are?"
"Listen, Des.
She's the village bicycle. We've all had a ride." Rez0007 froze on the
spot as he heard the sound of dogs barking. Enshohma and a few of the Mods
were on the other side of the fence.
"Any problems,
gentlemen?" Enshohma asked with a bit of sarcasm.
"Nah! No problem
here, Ensh... just a little misunderstanding."
*****
Locked away in
a small room, Darkside was becoming more hysterical by the minute. He was
afraid of the Comedy and Tragedy Killer and could not remember when but
he knew he saw his face. If he unlocked the mystery, he could get himself
killed. He was rather nervous and it was times like these he wished he
had been killed on their first encounter. He fearfully looked over at the
phone. This was the seventeenth time he had tried to call the Mods for
help with it but there was no dial tone. He started weeping, knowing his
days were nearing an end.
"No one's going
to miss me... No one will ever know I was gone," he sat, crying on the
floor.
"Stop crying!"
said the distorted and evil voice of the killer. Darkside looked up and
all around the room. He still couldn't figure out where the voice was coming
from.
"Let me go, coward!"
Darkside shouted. He was both angry and crying. "I know who you are! Release
me from this pain and let it be over with!" The tears leaked down Darkside's
face and dripped onto the floor and clothing.
"Can't you see
what this is doing to me! I know, but I don't! And I wish not to!" Darkside
was screaming at the top of his lungs, as loud as he possibly could.
"Can't you see,"
Darkside whispered to himself "Or do you have no heart at all?!"
"The heart of
evil is as black as coal," said the detestable voice. This only angered
Darkside more.
"Why!!!" he shouted
with hatred. "Why did you have me call Jenny?! What are you planning, you
merciless killer!"
"Why, I left them
a nice present for Valentine's Day." The killer's voice was very distorted.
"Show yourself,"
Darkside screamed, at first with anger but his voice and attitude changed
to sad and frightened. "Show yourself... c-c-coward!" There was a strange
glow and bright light entered the room. The doorway was open and Darkside
could see the silhouette of a man; a black and shapeless shadow. As the
door closed behind the killer, Darkside once again not only saw the frightening
eyes of evil but the wretched face of the Comedy and Tragedy Killer, wearing
a smile of sin upon his face.
*****
"Man, this place
seems to go on for miles!" complained Prince of Space.
"It seems as if
we've been in here for ages! How long has it really been?" asked Yuri.
"This place is
as ageless as time itself. It has no beginning; no end and there is no
time in here," Hozay answered unemotionally.
"So, what, an
hour, two hours?" Prince of Space tried to interpret the shadowy figure
that was all that remained of Hozay.
"Three hours,"
Hozay said, with a hint of a smile entering his blackened form.
"Is that what
counts as humor in your 'realm'?" asked Prince, innocently and not as an
insult.
"Are you what
counts as 'looks' in your 'realm'?" Hozay returned, the smile growing.
"You must've been
a real joker before it happened..." He paused, seeing the smile fade and
a cold glaze frosting Hozay's eyes. "Sorry. I wasn't thinking..."
"That's all right,"
Hozay said. "Yes, as you said, I was QUITE a 'joker'."
"Really, what
happened, if you don't mind." Prince was inquisitive of the past of their
guide.
"Well, many things
happened. It was mainly my days working for the Maser City mob that hardened
me. I never killed anybody, Ii never could. I never had it in me until
Ii became Hellspawn. This very mansion, introduced after the loss of my
one true love, and the attempts to bring her back using the book Necromancer:
The Book of the Damned Dead were the very things that brought my own
ruination. That is how I came across that cursed Black Mass ceremony and
how I became the demon known as Hellspawn. That is why I, from that point
on, was no longer humorous. It didn't have any purpose aFter that."
"Oh, no! You've
got that all wrong! There is always a purpose for laughter and happiness,
and goofing around. Laughter and love are like this," he said, crossing
two fingers. "Many times, it's the only weapon we have!"
As they continued
walking, they came to door. A pair of red, demonic eyes sprouted from the
large door knocker.
"None shall pass
through without a toll. All who try will die!" it boomed, rows of deadly
weapons and torture devices showing themselves from the walls. They looked
around fearfully as Prince of Space merely smiled.
"Well..." the
guard demon waited, expectantly.
"For example..."
Prince said to Hozay, still smiling, then turned toward the demon. He pulled
an unplugged microphone from his utility belt and began his 'toll'.
"Hello, is this
thing on?" he asked, the demon's eyes showing a puzzled expression. Prince
turned toward the knocker. "Knock, knock. No, no; I'll allow you." The
knocker paused, then burst out laughing. The rows of weaponry slid back
into the walls.
"Well, I guess
Ii should then..." it said, knocking itself and opening the door it was
attached to. "That was the best joke I've heard in over 4000 years! Welcome
through, welcome through..." it said happily. The door opened and Prince
grinned.
"See what i mean..."
They gasped as
they saw the strange sight in front of them. There was a chess board that
stretched throughout the entire floor. Large chess pieces surveyed their
surroundings.
"Well, well, well,
old chaps! Anyone for a round of chess?" the white king said in a jolly
British voice. It sounded friendly enough, yet menace seemed to be hidden
behind its joyful cover.
"Hozay, what's
going on?" asked Rodan2000.
"The rest of my
mansion, it is a maze of puzzles and strategy games until we get to the
vault to make our escape," he explained
"No thank you,
we're kind of in a hurry to get to the other side of the door right behind
you," Yuri said politely to the King.
"Well, to get
to the other side you will have to do me a favor..." he said. "You see
that dark chap on the far side of the board, the Black King, has been my
enemy for years! We've always wanted a friendly duel between our kingdoms,
the White kingdom, mine, and the Black kingdom, his. But there's been no
one to serve as the guides on our respective sides. He's always been there,
ready to duel, but I've never been good at strategies. He simply wants
to have a respectable enemy but I've never been able to fill that role.
You're the first chaps to get past that bloody old door," he said, but
at "bloody" he started laughing.
"Bloody! I never
tire of a good laugh! That door really is 'bloody' isn't it! I kill myself,"
the white king laughed merrily for a while, the group shifting nervously
among themselves.
"Quite a 'bloody'
sense of humor he's got as well..." mused Prince.
"Sorry, chaps...err...and
chapesses, I never can get enough of a laugh myself. Anyway, here's my
deal. If you gentle... things can guide my cavalry to victory over the
Black King, I'll allow you all through me old door. If you refuse, though..."
At this, his voice dropped to a sinister note, "You'll all die a horrible
and terrible death by my hand..." His voice returned to the normal jolly
note it was when they met him. "Well, then, governors! What do you say?"
"Looks like we
don't have a 'bloody' choice, then..." said Prince.
"Cut the wisecracks,
Prince. This is serious. What do you guys say?" asked Yuri.
"Well, Prince
is right, we don't have a choice," said Rodan2000. Turning to the figure
across the room, he yelled out, "YOU'RE ON!"
"Well, then! Let
the games begin, wot wot!" said the jolly White King, though the situation
itself was far from jolly.
The White King
brought out his knights and pawns and rooks, all of his men. He and the
queen stood as sentries, waiting for the perfect time to strike. The Black
King did the same and watched the movements with black stone eyes. The
White troops moved outward one at a time, creating a massive blockade near
the board center. The rooks, knights and castles advanced as well, reinforcing
the impressive armaments. The Black King sent out the pawns, one step at
a time. The rooks he sent out only to guard himself. The queen he sent
to lurk along the walls, taking out any who strayed near enough. Rodan2000
and friends watched the scene unfolding, trying to pick out the weaknesses
of the Black King.
"He sends out
only that he needs," whispered Yuri. "He keeps his main men in bunches
around him to protect himself and save as many pieces as he can. When he
strikes, he goes for the big game."
"So that's how
he does it," Rodan mused. "We've got to keep our military nearer to us,
then." He went and told the White King.
"So that's the
jolly old bugger's strategy. Well, then: let's give him a taste of his
own medicine," said the White King, using his next few moves to pull back
his forces.
"So, the strategy
has been discovered, let's find the weakness," said Prince of Space. "Notice
how he seems to pull back at us moving forward. Very wily, protecting his
troops at all cost."
"We have to find
a way to get around his shield, and get to him."
"We can try to
lure his shield out. Make sure we have the rooks getting a good shot at
him, then have our castles in a straight line to him," said Rodan2000.
The trick seemed to be going well; they sent out the rooks into their chosen
positions and the castle was kept hidden behind a pawn. The queen moved
out from in front of the king to nab a pawn a knight's move away. Then
another, then the one in front of the castle, only to be caught by surprise
by the castle, revealing the end of the queen's reign and the end of the
game. The Black King called out his defeat and the game was over.
*****
Gothmog had been
thinking about what happened to Chris Glinski after the auditions at the
Roostville Arts Center. First his brother had been killed in his own shop
and now this! Who would want to kill either of them? And Chris had such
a bright future ahead of him! His reading had been truly inspired and his
upcoming addition to the cast of ROOSTVILLE: THE SOAP OPERA was something
both fans and the producers could look forward to.
As he watched
the latest episode unfold through the big display window of Pikachu's Audio-Video
Emporium, the whole serial killer affair spoiled his enjoyment of the Werner
Wiener he had so anticipated. The push cart's owner had conveniently parked
in front of the shop to catch the lunchtime crowd who didn't have TVs at
their workplaces and came there to get their daily dose of serial pathos.
Cam had also slipped
out of the Mod Station for some chow and soon sniffed out the Wiener cart.
Recognizing Gothmog from the crime scene, he struck up a conversation with
the fellow thespian. Gothmog figured the personable Mod might be just the
one to unburden his suspicions on. When they were away from the gathering
crowd around the hot dog stand and TV display, he laid out his theory.
"I hate to say
this, Cam, but what if the killer is, you know... one of the good guys?"
Cam didn't know what to make of such an idea.
"Where did you
ever come up with something like that?" he asked. The nature of the crimes
were so out of character for about anyone he could think of in Roostville,
either good or bad.
"ROOSTVILLE: THE
SOAP OPERA," Gothmog admitted rather sheepishly, figuring "a little birdie
told me" sounded rather lame. "You see, it works like this... In the show,
Marlena is the killer and she's well known and respected by everyone. Besides,
most of the Good Guys could cover their tracks really well due to their
positions here. Also, many killers like to get involved in the investigation
themselves to keep up with the progress the Mods are making. Marlena was
willing to hypnotize the psychic to find out what she knew. It could even
be a Mod for all we..." Gothmog suddenly realized Cam was looking at him
stranger than ever, standing there in his uniform. "I didn't mean YOU,
Cam!" he stammered. A funny look was coming over the 'tile's face but he
quickly shook it off.
"Don't worry about
it, pal. Y'know, the same thought had crossed my mind, too."
*****
At the Mod
Station, Sheriff Jaguar and his top detective, Earth Baragon, dragged Rez0007
into a dark room. Rez was seated in the center and a light shined down
on him. A few agents in dark uniforms approached but remained standing
outside the light, their faces invisible. Rez knew they were from the RBI,
investigating the Comedy and Tragedy murders. It was these guys who had
trained Webster to be the top detective he is. Rez0007 was sweating and
getting rather nervous and the awkward silence in the room didn't help
any. The more nervous he became, he starting chattering his teeth. One
of the bureaucrats then came forward and began his interrogation. He was
big and mean looking, tough and smart and equal to Webster. At first, the
questioning concerned Rez' childhood, what it was like growing up and if
he or any other member of his family was abused.
"No," Rez0007
shouted. "My father was a good man! He loved my mother and us kids. There
were no favorites! He would never beat us, or mom for that matter. He worked
as hard as he could to support us as a family!" The agent started to walk
around Rez in circles. He seemed to be evil, like Agent Smith from THE
MATRIX. Rough interrogations like these were his job. He started to ask
more, off subject questions concerning Desutoroia, Darkside, ROOSTVILLE:
THE SOAP OPERA and other related subjects. This infuriated Rez as the best
of the best were accusing him, an innocent man, of murder without proof
or evidence.
"I didn't kill
those people," he said, shouting. "I didn't kill anyone!"
"Then what were
you doing running from the crime scene?" the agent asked. Rez was staring
down at the floor but looked up with a sinful face, his eyes leaving a
scar under the skins of those who dared to stare back. "I already told
Desutoroia and the fuzz," he yelled. "Darkside pays me to take of his lawn
weekly! I was on my way over to get the grass cutter from the garage when
I saw Desutoroia Khandejifer and that Jennifer. I didn't know what they
were doing, especially since Darkside wasn't home so I decided to look.
I ran when Mr. Khandejifer caught me, for fear of what he might do to me..."
The agent merely laughed.
"Desutoroia doesn't
have a violent history, or criminal record. Why would you fear such a man,"
he asked, the darkness hiding his smirking face. James Webster then stepped
forward and whispered something to one of the guys who had accompanied
the man interrogating Rez0007. The two then left the room.
"Well, to answer
your question honestly, sir, I..." Rez watched the agent, even though his
face was shrouded. He knew the man was laughing at him deep inside. "I
don't know why I did what I did. I just ran from a fight... from him without
thinking straight." Rez was now the one with the grin. "I was just reacting
as anyone would if they were caught spying, especially on those rich folk
and their blond-headed bimbos..." The agent froze on the spot, his black
sunglasses reflecting the light and reflection of Rez0007. He was displeased
with him.
"Well, well, well,
Mr. Rez0007," he said with deep seriousness. He didn't finish as Webster
and the other Fed returned with files and other papers. The agent took
the papers and thanked them for their cooperation. "According to these
criminal records, Mr. Rez," he continued, his voice reminding Rez very
much of THE MATRIX. "It seems that your father was no saint as you stated."
"Wha..?" he said
nervously and also shocked.
"These files show
that your father was a convict at an early age. Juvenile hall. The Correctional
Center is where he spent much of his time. In his late thirties, he was
charged with multiple accounts of rape and abuse of his wife. A statement
by your own father claims he grew up in an abusive, sexist, racist environment
as a child." At first, Rez0007 registered shock, then he jumped back in
his seat and started shivering as if recalling suppressed memories from
his childhood. "Anything you'd like to add to your previous statement?"
the agent asked.
"No, none at all."
Rez0007 stared down at the floor again, holding his head as if a migraine
had struck him. "Anything else?" he asked.
"No, that will
be all. Thompson, take him away." One of the other agents lifted Rez from
his seat and escorted him out of the room. Sheriff Jaguar walked over next
to the interrogator.
"Well, what do
you think?" he asked.
"Was I harsh on
the man?" the agent asked back. "No, I don't think so. Is he the man behind
the murders, I am still unsure of that." He walked out of the dark room.
"He has an abusive background," he explained. "It's quite possible that
he's our guy. I suggest we keep an eye on him for now." Sheriff Jaguar
nodded and began to wonder himself.
The agent then
discussed the case with James Webster.
"This Desutoroia
Khandejifer. Why wasn't he hauled in for questioning? After all, he's a
potential victim, is he not? And how is that?" the agent asked.
"The Comedy and
Tragedy Killer left behind clues. A message for us with Desutoroia's address
written on it in code. He had a letter sent to Desutoroia himself..."
"One Rez0007 had
given him," he pointed out.
"There was also
a phone call Desutoroia received from, quote, a fan, unquote. There was
also a photograph of Desutoroia and a girl unconscious together in a hotel
room..."
"Has Desutoroia
been questioned about this?"
"No," Webster
said. "The Sheriff has made it clear Desutoroia is going through a rough
time and he thinks we should leave him out for now. At this time, he doesn't
know about the picture."
"And the killings
have had connections to a regular TV series, one that stars Desutoroia?"
"Yes. At this
point, we think the killer could be a fellow cast member or staff member,
perhaps a former one. Or an obsessive fan gone over the edge."
"Have the cast
and staff been all tracked down?" he asked.
"Not yet," Webster
said. "We've had a few of them found and questioned. Most of the old cast
members are off making theatrical films now. However..."
"However?"
"Still," Webster
said grimly. "There's a few still located in this burg. If one of them
could be the Comedy and Tragedy Killer, we'll catch him." The agent stepped
over to a calendar with January and February pinned to the wall with markings
on the dates of the victims' deaths.
"Look here," he
said, "The first of the killings were only a day or less apart. Around
ten people were killed. More victims were added later. It seems that Freek
Wallace was the last to be murdered for a short while. Chris Glinski was
murdered but you guys pointed out it didn't seem to fit with the rest."
"So, officially,
Freek Wallace was the last to be killed by the Comedy and Tragedy killer.
February 11th was the date of his death."
"Valentine's Day
just passed by," the agent added. "It seems that beside the apparent copycat
murder of Chris Glinski on February 12th, the Comedy and Tragedy killings
have stopped."
"Stopped," Webster
said sounding disgusted. "They've merely been halted. When he's ready,
he'll kill again. It's only a matter of time, and when and where."
"So, what about
this Darkside Reject? You've hauled him in here before, being one of the
directors behind ROOSTVILLE: THE SOAP OPERA. Can we get hold him?"
"Hm, I haven't
seen Darkside in a few days, let alone heard from him." The agent was shocked.
"Wasn't he the
one who survived an attack from the killer?"
"Yes," Webster
said. "Oh no!" He realized what the agent was getting at and didn't look
too happy.
"I think we should
send someone other there right now."
"I'll go! I'm
qualified for this stuff!" Webster said.
"I should come
along. I've been chasing psychos and hunting bombs for over 20 years."
When they arrived
at Darkside's mansion, they found the place to be empty. The maids were
gone and there was no sign of Darkside anywhere. The agent and Webster
exchanged looks. Webster got out his phone to call the Sheriff when it
started to ring.
"Hello?" he asked,
surprised.
"What are you
doing at my house?" The voice was unfamiliar sounding to Webster and the
question creeped him out a little.
"What..?"
"What are you
doing at my house," the voice said again, stuttering and sounding as if
a bad actor were reading from a script.
"Darkside?" Webster
asked. The agent caught on and looked over at him in surprise.
"For all men sin,
and sin they must for no one man is forever perfect," Darkside said before
hanging up.
"What the Hell
was that about?" the agent asked.
"I don't know,
it was Darkside," Webster said. "I think he's in trouble." He immediately
dialed the Mod Station. "This is James Webster, let me speak to the Sheriff."
And within minutes, he was on the line.
"What do you have
to report?"
"It's Darkside
Reject. He's missing."
"I'm going to
out an APB on him right away," the Sheriff said.
"Good. I'm heading
back to the station." He and the agent ran out to Webster's car and took
off. While driving, Webster and the RBI agent discussed the Comedy and
Tragedy case. They tried hard to think like the killer and understand his
mind to figure out who was going to be next, or why he was doing it in
the first place. They discussed the case's relation to Lord Desutoroia
Khandejifer but in the end, they were back at square one with no leads
or anything new. Webster parked the car and looked at the agent.
"Thanks, dad,
for coming to help out with the case. You've had more experience in the
field than me and I know you'll help us take this murderer down."
"No need to thank
me, James. It's my job to track down psychos." James Webster's father,
who had interrogated Rez0007, had images flashing before his eyes as recalled
his past. He spent years hunting the maniac who slaughtered countless innocent
women. He had been obsessive and the killer was controlling his life until
he was caught. He had nearly died, breaking his ribs a couple times and
fracturing other bones. As his son entered the Mod Station, he stayed in
the car and pulled out an old photo album. He smiled at the pictures of
him and his wife but his face turned grim as he saw photos taken by forensics.
His wife had been murdered and found wearing a sad mask. He remembered
that he was given a happy mask by the killer and was supposed to have died,
he assumed, as he and his wife were to be a portrait. The masks of Comedy
and Tragedy. He thought back to the day the killer was sentenced to death
in court. He kept pleading his innocence but no one believed him.
"I thought we
caught you, you murdering bastard," he said quietly. "But it seems that
Manning, who was hung for those murders, was really innocent after all..."
CHAPTER
7: RadoGoji's
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