3 Family Feuds Forever Fighting

The following is an unpublished interview with an unidentified Rebel member. The interviewer was said to have been killed shortly after:

Interviewer: What was life like among the other 'Rebels'?

Unidentified Rebel: Growing up with the Rebels was like growing up with a real family.

One day you loved them, and the next you wanted to kill them.

Interviewer: How were power and position often established between members who were all willing killers?

Unidentified Rebel: Our organization was divided into three different positions: The Abandoned, The Revived, and The Saviors.

The Abandoned were all the children and little ones who were found in the aftermath of an Incident. They were taken in and cared for while also being offered food and shelter, some even private lessons for self-defense.

The Revived were those who took those lessons to the extreme, learning all about military tactics and hand-to-hand combat skills, often responsible for protecting and located those of the Abandoned.

Then there were The Saviors, the headmasters of our group.

These people consisted of the founding fathers of our organization, the ones who started the Rebels, and the ones who created everything. They were quite literally our saviors, they gave us another chance to find the revenge our ancestors were never blessed with.

Interviewer: Do you enjoy living a life like this?

Unidentified Rebel: Indeed I do, despite how cold-hearted that makes me sound. I made many friends because of the Rebels and got to visit all types of places throughout the Continent. The most wonderful part of all was that their doors weren't open to only those who sought vengeance, they were also opened to those in poverty and debt for what the Incident did to them and their homes.

Sometimes you didn't want answers, not if it cost you someone else's blood. Sometimes all you wanted was a nice place to stay and a comfy spot to sleep.

Interviewer: Would you associate yourself as one of those people, the ones who only wished to join the Rebels to find a place to be catered for?

Unidentified Rebel:...I was at first...

But when you're surrounded by so many others who all tell you the same thing over and over again, those roots of hatred start seeping deeper inside of you without you realizing it. When finally, they are watered down by the heavy rain of reality until they grow into beautiful roses, ready to pierce and plunge all those who come too close.

-

"Tis' not a good day," a short lad with messy blond hair whined, "tis' not a good day for me at all. I find it hard to imagine that it is my first year working for the department and already they're giving me such a difficult task to handle. "

He was met with a brutal slap to the back of the head, one that made him lurch forward and wince. The distress made the horses they were riding start worrying and sway off the trail for a bit.

"Oh, would you stop your pathetic crying for just a sec?" His advisor, a twenty-one-year-old man hushed, hair a depressing entanglement of brown unkept knots. "You're lucky this is your first official mission, your behavior on this will be with you for life. You should be grateful."

"But I'm not ready yet," the younger boy pouted. "I don't nearly have the experience required to be on a mission as important as this one. Why I can't even properly shoot a gun for heaven's sake! Name one officer that's saved the day and doesn't know how to shoot?"

"If it makes you feel any better our culprit used a sword so you'll be fine," The older man scowled.

"That does not make me feel better!"

Ignoring the younger one's whining he spotted a messenger hawk up in the sky and whistled for it to come down. It landed gently on his outstretched arm and waited patiently as he removed the note that was attached to its foot.

"It's a word from Daniel," he informed. "He wishes to remind us of what our duties are again."

"My problem isn't with trying to remember what to do, it's the question of whether or whether not I'll actually be able to do it!"

"Pipe down, Michelangelo, let me read it already."

Michelangelo huffed, "Just Michael will suit me well, you don't see me calling you, Jacqueline, do you?"

A short flip of the finger before Michael's banter was put off for good, "Just Jack will do."

"Our goal is to remain in the shadows and infiltrated the rendezvous spot hopefully before the actual murderer gets there," Jack reminded. "There will be at least eighteen others that will show up to provide back up to support us, however, we are the first to arrive so it will task some time for them as well."

He turned and gave the younger cadet a very serious look, "We're dealing with a cold-blooded murderer today Michael, we will have to show no mercy to properly inflict the hand of justice. Our lives and future Chief Camille's could rest in our hands so it is important that we do our best to see to it that everyone gets out of this alive. Even if it means someone else must be killed to ensure our safety, do you understand?"

He heard a gulp from behind him with a hesitant voice, "Yes I do..."

Jack scoffed, trotting on ahead, "If you're going to be this much of a coward then perhaps you should take that steed of yours and simply return back to the APD. You might serve of better use in the comforts of your office chair than in the dangers of reality.

"You're mocking me."

"I am."

After sending the bird back into the air their speed arose until their location was just within their sights. When they were close enough they jumped off their horses and tied them to the trees, taking a pair of binoculars to scout the area.

"Warehouse is still empty," Jack murmured under his breath, "seems we got here just in time. Let's move in and find a good place to stay before our culprit arrives." He cocked his handgun and passed another to Michael, who took it with weary hands. "If the time comes, promise me you will shoot. Even if it kills, alright?"

"I-..... I promise..."

They rushed their way to the entrance, pressing their backs against the door in suspicion. Jack pressed his hand against the cool steel before pushing the door slightly open and peeking inside. After deeming it safe he motioned for Michael to follow before barging in and closing the door behind him.

"There's a place with boxes not too far away from the entrance. None of the light touches that area so we'll be hidden from above and in front. The perfect position for some eavesdropping as well," he confirmed.

"Are we confident the culprit won't see us at all?" Michael worried, "How are we sure that we will be able to hear them from here?"

"This place is hollow, we'll hear them no matter where they are. And if the culprit does see us we're already at an advantage, two against one."

The two men made to their hiding spots, crouching carefully behind the boxes and ensuring both their presences were well concealed. All that was left was to play the waiting game until either Camille or their culprit showed up to the scenery.

-

The carriage ride to the eastern area of the Gaean Empire was tense and filled with nothing more but the bitter taste of doubt in the air. Neither one of the two spoke of anything until they reached their destination. A large fancy house out in the middle of nowhere that had to at least be two stories tall stood in front of them.

Once they stepped out Samantha broke the silence first, "If this does end up being a trap then we must tread carefully. We already have all legal permission to do what is needed to be done, so don't cause any unnecessary problems for us alright?"

Jones let out a highly offended scoff, "It was your idea for us to still come out here regardless. Bold of you to assume that what happens will be my fault."

She rolled her eyes, "Fine, then let's both take the blame."

They made their way past the low open gate and onto the stone steps which led to an even larger wooden door. They gave each other a look until Samantha caved and leaned forward to knock on the door.

A few heavy seconds later and no signs of life on the other side made themselves presentable.

"Perhaps no one is home yet," Jones suggested, to which Samantha simply shook her head.

"It is far too late for anyone to be outside."

"Then are they asleep by chance?"

"Far too early."

Another knock and a few more seconds of silence before finally they could hear the sound of small footsteps on the other side. They saw the knob being turned gently was followed up shortly with the door opening, revealing a small young girl dressed in nightwear. She gave them both a confused look yet didn't say anything at all.

"Hello there little one," Samantha spoke softly, leaning down to reach her height, "is the owner of this establishment here tonight? We would like to ask him a few questions."

Still, the little girl didn't so much as blink. The officers looked back in confusion momentarily before an aging voice from much deeper within the house spoke.

"Daphne! What did I say about opening the door to strangers?" An old man with a walking stick came into view, posture slouched terribly and breathing much too hard. "It's far too late for you to even be downstairs by now, shouldn't you be working on one of your little projects?"

The man stopped abruptly as he made eye contact with the two officers currently standing on his front porch. His eyes widen in shock and his walking cane dropped, clattering softly against wooden tiles.

"Excuse me, sir we are members of the Aparian Police Department, associated with the investigation corp," Samantha recited. "We're here to investigate you and your household for reasonable suspicion that you are either involved or responsible for the death of an Aparian Bakery store owner."

She moved out of the way to reveal the carriage just out in the distance parked out on the sidewalk, "If you will please cooperate nicely and entire the vehicle we will take you in for question-"

"How?!" the retired veteran squealed, pointing a shaky yet accusing finger at the two. "How did you find me? Huh?...."

"Sir," Jones intervened, "your address was linked in the letter of the victim's pocket fully signed by your signature and permission to access your bank account. Now, like my partner said, if you will please be so kind to step into the vehicle-"

"ANSWER THE QUESTION!" This time he lurched forward and grabbed Jones by the collar, pulling him down to meet his eye level. "How did you find me! Who told you where I live? Which rat was it, huh? Who told you?"

Jones grabbed the man's hands and pulled them off of him, not letting go of his wrist, "Sir, for the last time we found a letter of your address inside the victim's pocket and a cake that YOU ordered at the scene of the crime. No one told us anything, but if you're trying to imply that you didn't place that order-"

"That's because I didn't," the man hissed, smokey breath puffing out into Jones's face. "Why the hell would an Efflorian like me make a nearly two-hour drive just to buy some cake from some lousy Aparian? If you were really law officials even you would know how sketchy that sounds."

"Sir if it wasn't you who placed that order, then that means someone could be trying to frame you," Samantha stated. "Still regardless of such you are a likely suspect and must be interrogated either way. We don't need to make this any more of a struggle on your end, nor do we wish to startle on this little girl here. If you will both follow us back to the department we can resolve this in a nice and easy fashion."

"No-no! I didn't do anything, I won't die here, not tonight!" In one powerful swoop, the man tugged his hands out of Jones's grip and lunged himself back inside the house. The movement caused the two of them to startle, before the man ended up collapsing, seeming to forget that he had long since dropped his cane.

The little girl, Daphne if they both remembered correctly, took several steps back and simply watched the old man on the floor trying to push himself back up.

"Alright," Jones huffed, a frustrated smile on his face, "that's enough. Playtime is over." He reached forward and pulled the old man onto his feet, holding his hands behind him and pushing him diligently out the door, all of which the latter struggled through to his best attempts.

"Samantha, open the door for me," Jones ordered his partner, "I left my restraints inside the carriage, of all days to forget I swear."

"Right," She nodded firmly, calming the horses before opening up the door for the two of them.

"Damn, for a retired veteran he's still strong as hell!" Jones huffed, beads of sweat dripping down his face.

"I'm not going down without a fight!" The man hissed, kicking his weak legs up. Both of his feet planted on either side of the door, so he used that to his advantage to keep from entering the cart. This man was full of surprises to the last minute, wasn't he?

"Dammit, Sally! Don't just stand there, help me!"

Samantha grabbed at the man's legs and tried her best to pull them to the floor until he was standing again. This time he turned his shoulders so his width ended up being the next obstacle for them to trample over.

"He's quite the persistent one."

"Like that wasn't obvious."

"Let go of me dammit! Satan! Bastard! Release me at once!"

Neither of them willing to pull out their own weapons, realizing it was probably for the best considering each of their ethnicities, they were forced to rely on physical strength alone. This struggle went on for what felt like ten minutes now, neither of them growing tired at all.

At some point, the man started screaming for bloody murder, yelling and shouting incoherent words as his body was brutally slammed against the door. Finally, the screams died down into heartbroken sobs, which alarmed the duo even more, until...

"He shot me! He shot me! He just shot me!"

"Oh my god!" Jones rolled his eyes with a laugh, finding this far too amusing than it should be. "I might actually if this doesn't end soon."

"Please...please! I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die! Please let me go! I'm sorry, I'm going to die please I'm so sorry don't kill me please!"

In the midst of the commotion, Samantha felt a tug at her clothes before looking down to see Daphne latched on tight. She must have heard the screams from inside the house where they unintentionally left her and came out to investigate herself. She was giving Samantha a deadly stare, as though asking her to finish this up soon so they could all go home and rest.

"This is getting ridiculous," Samantha realized, "we would have been at the station by now if he had just cooperated from the start."

"Stop will all the shouting, you're not going to die old man your insane."

The old man sniffled, "Daphne, sweetheart, run! Please run before they hurt you too. He just shot me, please! Please get out of here and go get help, run to the nearest house and tell them that your grandfather just got shot and is about to die. Hurry and get here soon, please."

His breathing got even harder and his struggle doubled in the effort. He swayed his head back acting even more frantic than before. Then all of a sudden the most unexpected thing happened.

The old lurched backward with vigor, arching up with his head to the sky. He let out struggles gasp for air and was literally choking on nothing. He wheezed and coughed with his eyes rolling backward, body spasming uncontrollably. Eventually became so limp and heavy not even Jones could keep him up.

"What the-?!"

"Jones, be careful, I think he's going to-"

His body tilted sideways, falling too fast for anyone to react, before dropping like a heavy bag of potatoes. The impact was frightening and the old man stopped moving, a small trickle of his own blood spilling from where his head met the ground. All of his breathing ceased and he was as still as stone.

"I-...." Jones stuttered, face pale, and for the first time in his life true fear coursed throughout his body, "did he just?..."

Samantha immediately rushed forward and crouched down, pressing her fingers against his neck. Then she gently lifted up the non-bloody side of his head, touching around the injury carefully. She felt twisted bones and limp tissues underneath her fingers realizing that something must have cracked when he fell, hence why the sound was so loud.

"Well?" Jones asked, hands visibly shaking.

She didn't want to admit to it, didn't want to believe it, but still, no matter where her fingers rested she couldn't find a pulse anywhere.

Finally, she stood up, pressing bitter lips together before turning her head.

"...he's dead."

-

Back inside the warehouse the two boys were still patiently waiting in their secluded areas for the slightest sign of entry. Not a second too soon they heard the sound of a window creak, followed by light footsteps before a dark figure came into their view.

Jack slugged his arm back to gently tap on Michael's arm, alerting the younger of their unknowing guest.

It was someone with quite the figure, slender and small, possibly a woman. She wore all black attire, that being a hoodie, some jeans, and a pair of travel boots. Her back was faced towards the two so most of her features were hidden, making her unidentifiable.

"Damn…" Jack cursed under his breath, "I can't see who they are very well from this angle. Let's just hope Camille gets a good look when she arrives."

"You chose this spot," Michael spat, at if it weren't for the fact that they were supposed to remain quiet he would have just gotten smacked for that. The little runt probably knew it too.

No less than a few minutes later the entrance to the warehouse was opened, and out came their beloved Camille, dressed in a long trench coat, black stockings, and powerful heels. She strutted her way towards the mystery person, standing at a comfortable yet close distance there.

"There she is," Jack informed, "if she's here then backup must not be too far behind. It's all up to her however on when we make the first move."

There was a deathly toxic silence that rung through the air, everyone seemed to be on edge except for the stranger in front of them. Both ladies stared at each other and did not move, waiting on the other to see who would react first. Camille's face turned sour as her eyebrows slightly narrowed.

"Reveal yourself to me," she demanded. "If you're going to have half the mind to tell me what to do you should have the nerve to show me what you look like at least"

Their guest gave off a feminine chuckle, confirming Jack's suspicions while pulling off a strange mask with a design facing the opposite direction. At the sight of the reveal Camille's face dropped, mouth hung slightly open in total shock.

"You?" she questioned, biting her lip and growing very angry. "Why the hell did it have to be you of all people? Is this some kind of joke to you or something?"

The lady laughed, changing the poster while resting a hand on her hip, "It's good to see you too, auntie~"