Finding the Source (Part 1)

The faulty street lamp added chills to those who surrounded the lifeless body laid on the cold ground. As usual, a yellow-and-black-colored striped tape fenced the perimeter. The combination of the stench of almost dry blood and lit cigarette snuffed on the surface.

Authorities might had stopped those passersby from getting near, but it could not be denied that they would not avert them from seeing the appalling state of that poor individual.

The unrecognized corpse with its face mutilated was, actually, not the first casualty of the ruthless chained murders. In fact, the drawback here was that none had witnessed the exact killing.

Lucida Jones, one of the police officers assigned to investigate the crime scene, instructed her underlings to clear the field off--away from both living and non-living obstructions. Scratching her chin, she slowly examined the current position of the victim's body, looking for a clue that might help her to know the identity of the killer.

It was definitely one from them.

The darkness heightened the challenge of her seeing the actual dead body. Needing assistance, she took her linkscreen out from her right side pocket to call one of her comrades.

The ringing did not last that long as the receiver was unfortunately out of reach. She winced while counting those beeping sounds played off. Where is he?

As her uncertainty grew, she turned her face to look around, only to increase her dissatisfaction because plenty of the passersby were still there, nosy of the actual event.

"Arthur." She signaled one of the uniformed men to come nigher to her. When the guy stopped on her front, she leaned her face closer. "Is this the best that you can do?" She pointed at random persons around them. "For what I remembered, I ordered you to make them leave."

Arthur Levis had nothing else to response but to bow his head. "M-my apologies, Ma'am." His back was still arched when his feet was slowly dripped with familiar red fluid. His body started shaking as his arms unconsciously caught the falling body of Lucida.

"Officer Jones!"

Asynchronous screams awakened the earlier sleeping street of North Arlana. The remaining police personnel lost senses and started to act disorderly, desperately searching for the culprit who took away their leader's life.

Though most of the people gathered amid the scene already had their focus gone, Arzi attentively scanned the surrounding. Few seconds ago, a strange but familiar silhouette captivated her gaze. It was standing close to the female officer before she was killed.

She gulped unconsciously. Girl, you should not involve yourself to this. Battling her conscience, she found herself initially walking then started running to follow the escaping figure.

While running, Arzi started to study the suspect's behavior. She observed the pattern on how it moved. Having no choice, she decided to use the gift she possessed. Though, uncertain of the people who might saw her, she channeled her force.

A sudden sound of thump echoed on the narrow street two blocks away from the city's exit. Gotcha! She looked around and, luckily, no one was there anymore.

She carefully trailed towards the laying body. Low groan welcomed her ears as she walked closer. When she noticed that the familiar mask looking at her, she extended her arms to begin using her power again.

Though, the suspect stood fast, Arzi had already made an unseeable cage to enclose its figure. Forcefully hitting the surface, the thuds slowly faded as the culprit stopped striking the wall with its fists. "I'll make you pay for this, pest!" he bellowed, causing Arzi to petrify on her position.

"You're one of them." Arzi started breathing heavily, her hands uncontrollably began shaking when she pointed her right hand towards him. Her anger went stronger as she recalled when was the last time she heard that voice. "At last, I-I found you," she said it more to herself than to who's in front of her, "I can finally avenge their death."

The unseen walls started to move closer to one another. The reflections caused by the moonlight made the culprit noticed the shrinking space he was in. Begging for his life, he started randomly hitting the wall with his balled hands. His tension raised after he felt the forces from the walls, slowly squeezing him to the point where he could not make any move at all.

"Stop!"

A man wearing a casual white shirt emerged at the top of one of the buildings. "He's not one of them." Jumping off the three-storey structure, Arzi arched her eyebrows while watching him as he slowly fell from the top. He sat mid-air on an Indian-seat position, floating in front of her.

"Let him go, Miss. He's innocent." He smiled, enough to make her brows raised. "The culprit was actually just standing there earlier," he pointed at the direction of the earlier scene, "but, I failed to capture him before he left." His tone lowered as he delivered the last phrase.

Confused on what she was told, Arzi crossed her arms, facing the young man. "And what made you think that I will trust you, Mister?" Her eyes narrowed, waiting for the man's response.

"For I also aim to stop The CRIMs, like you, Miss." He stretched his legs to stand, slowly falling to the surface. He walked closer to Arzi. "My name is Brother." Then, he offered a handshake.

Hesitantly, Arzi carefully reached his hands. "Brother, eh? Anyways, I'm Arzi, and just to correct you, Mister, I don't have any plans to stop them. I just want to make them pay for what they did to my family."

"Oh?" He stepped one foot back, recoiled after he heard an unexpected revelation. After a few seconds, he stood straight and looked at Arzi in a more serious way. His blueish almond eyes shined the moonlight back. "Then, you have more reasons to join us."

"Join, what?" Arzi suddenly remembered that she still had an unfinished business. "I like to hear more of your story," she turned her gaze to the caged man, "but I need to end what I had started."

The poor guy, though unable to move, started to plead for her mercy. "Please, let me go. I'm begging you, Miss." His tears welled, then begun to fall on his bumpy cheeks. "My daughter's waiting for me."

Her temper shorten after hearing that word. "I-I am a daughter," her eyes went red, "who lost her parents because of you." She could not control herself, bursting into tears. Her whole body could not resist shaking. "How dare you beg for something you refused to give!"

She raised her hands again, adjuring the walls to move. Series of screams and weep escaped from the masked guy. "Please!" He still made a strained attempt to speak. His dark eyes surrounded by red marks were quaking with fear. "I don't know what you're talking, really."

She immediately stopped, shocked of what she heard. The earlier low voice of the masked man suddenly changed its tone.

"I told you already, he's not one of them," Brother walked closer to her, "he was controlled." He pointed his right forefinger down.

Without any warning, Arzi found herself forcefully kneeling on the floor. Few seconds later, she could not even move her body anymore. "What are you doing? Stop!"

"How dare you command something that you refused to follow?" Brother grinned as he saw Arzi's furious face. "I will set you free, but in return," he pointed at the masked man, "let him go as well."

·

Arzi still remembered what happened few nights ago. It was so unforgettable that everytime she heard someone saying his name, she became irritated each time.

"Who in Threa would call their son 'Brother'?"

She could not even count the hours she spent just staring the ceiling on her room. Should I accept his offer?

"Arcilla!"

Startled by her granny's call, she was statued for a few seconds, only moving after she heard her name for the second time.

"Coming!"

She stood up hastily, looking at her crumpled white blanket for a second or two. Nah. I'll fix you later, promise. Arzi shifted her gaze to her right then she trod to the front of her almost-human-size mirror, few meters away from the bathroom door.

Her room was just plain and simple. Mostly covered with white and other light shades. Inside were just her bed, two wooden drawers painted in white, the mirror that her mother gave to her during her seventh birthday, and a metal cube container which she did not attempt to open even for a single time. Her father handed it to her when she turned eighteen, after telling her that she could only unlock it if she found the key. She decided to have her room renovated few months after she lost her parents, removing all the luxuries and leaving only what were important to her.

She exhaled with resignation when she noticed that her wavy dark brown hair was in total mess. It would take almost an hour for her to fix it again. She picked the white comb at the top of a wooden drawer on her left. She was about to comb her hair when she heard her granny's third shout.

Placing the comb back to its original spot, she took a deep audible breath before walking to her room's maindoor. Low stomps were produced by her heavy footsteps. It was still a few steps away from the door when she heard her grandmother's call again.

"Hurry, Arcilla! You have a visitor."

Blood rushing down her veins, her figure became rigid after she thought of who it might have been.