Mystify
I joined tsuki_no_bara's Origonal Ficathon mark two- Because I do love writeing prompts. I got the song "Mystify" by INXS. And how could I resisit writeing Victor when I had a song prompt?
... okay frankly? Not my best work. But there are still things I like about it, and mostly what bothers me is the fact I dont' let the audence know everything.
The mist trailed over the hills like a silken shawl. It caressed the trees and trailed up to the streetlights, turning even more opaque as it enclosed the light. In one such globe of light there was a dark smudge, that had it been a clear night would have been a bench. Surrounded by the shrouded branches of trees as it was, that bench was a favorite of young lovers. But on a night that was choked with thick spring mists, as warm as they were, no one was out sharing the air.
The bench, however, was not empty. A low dark figure lay on his back on it, staring up at the brighter patch around the lamp. He was also of the opinion that only an idiot would be out in this, but he wasn’t feeling too smart just then, anyway. A plume of blue gray smoke left his lips and faded into the overwhelming mist. Turning his head aside, he watched water bead on his black leather coat for a moment, and then took another drag. Both the dampness and the solitude suited him that night. He’d just lost his girlfriend Delores, and shortly after that, his job. Not that working in a morgue was any great thrill, but it was something. Maybe it was time to get moving. This was the longest he’d ever stayed in once town before.
Suddenly he grabbed the back of the bench and yanked himself up into a sitting position.
“What was that?” he growled under his breath and lurched to his feet. Whatever he had heard must have repeated, because the butt of his cigarette tumbled to the ground and was crushed under his foot as he moved into the silken gray fog.
Running through fog is dangerous, but it can be an acquired skill. He skidded to a halt, grabbed the woman by the upper arms and spun, putting his back to the attacker, while protecting the woman. He felt a knife go through the leather of his jacket- luckily under his arm where there was looseness. While it did no damage there, it would have done horrible things to the woman if it had struck her in the same area. He let go of her arms, and she collapsed onto her knees, in shock. He drove backwards with his elbow, turning it into a spin back to face the attacker. He thought he hit something but he couldn’t be sure. Nothing seemed to be behind him now, only the mist, which was swiftly thickening to a true fog.
“Oh god, am I dead?” whimpered the girl
“No, you’re fine. Who was that?”
The woman looked up at him. Tears brimmed in her eyes. Those eyes were a liquid brown in which her pupils were lost, and rimmed with thick dark lashes.
“I don’t know, I was just coming home from the theatre- and it got so foggy and I was lost and-“
“It’s okay now.” He reassured her. “What’s your name-“
“And he grabbed me, and then you grabbed me and you saved me you saved me you saved”
“Your name-“
“You saved” she looked at him in confusion for a moment, then pursed her dark painted mouth, and answered “Veronica.”
”Good- are you hurt?”
“Nuh- no… just.. just a little shaken up.”
“Good.” He helped her to her feet, and suppressed the urge to dust her off himself.
“You just came out of nowhere- just when I needed a rescue I thought no one would come.”
“Breathe Veronica. It’s important.”
Shocked she took a deep breath, and then continued. “I mean, how did you even know I was in trouble- I didn’t have time to scream, and you just came out of the fog like like like some sort of…”
“Angel.” He supplied, with a chuckle in his voice.
“Yes! Exactly so, like an angel.”
He bent his head and started inspecting the hole in his coat. It was a deep slit, rough on one edge, but what had made the main cut was obviously a very sharp knife. He realized that she’d spoken to him, and glanced up. While she was probably about his height, her heels made it necessary to look up slightly to see her eyes.
“I beg your pardon?”
“What’s your name?” she repeated. “I mean, since you rescued me and all we should be introduced.”
“Well, recently, people call me Angel.”
“Oh!” She covered her mouth with her hand, but it didn’t forestall the laughter that came bubbling out. In spite of himself, Angel smiled back.
“Then do you make a habit of rescuing young ladies in distress?” Veronica asked merrily. “Since you’ve acquired such a nickname?”
The question made his face fall, as he remembered why he’d been moping about in the mists in the first place. He dropped his head down again, reexamining the hole in his coat.
“I used to.” Angel muttered. “My track record hasn’t been too good lately.”
“Well you saved me,” Veronica pointed out. “That’s something. It’s important to me.”
“I suppose it would be. “ he chuckled to himself again, a bit sadly.
“There now.” She smiled brightly. “Would you walk me home, Mr. Angel?”
“Shelly. My last name is Shelly.” He said, unable to stop a smile.”
“Oh but I like Angel-“
“Then you can call me that; and yes, I’ll walk you home. It’s kind of odd that someone would attack like that and then run away.”
Once out of the hilly park, the fog thinned once again to mist, wreathing the world, but not obscuring it. The streets of Rosuto Doushi were empty in the late night, and everything was closed up in the promise a thunderstorm that was due to come later that night. Above them, the stars danced with the clouds. Veronica led them along side streets, until they came to a several story building, which she then stared up at in dismay. Across the door was a large yellow sticker, and in front of that, two long swaths of tape that read ‘do not enter’ in large black letters.
“They finally did it.” Veronica sighed. “They’ve been threatening to condemn my building for years, but I would of thought I’d get more warning than this!” Her skirt stretched over her thighs as she stepped over the lower swath, and under the lower.
“Whoa!” before she could tip over, Angel reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her steady. She flashed a white-toothed smile, over her shoulder, and slipped her gloved hand from his, going to break the sticker that held the door shut.
“Veronica, I don’t think you should do that.”
The dark haired woman laughed, tossing her neatly combed hair back, as she opened the door wide, and gestured for him to follow her.
“It’s where I live, Angel. They’ve condemned it three times in the last four years, but it hasn’t stopped the landlord form charging ridiculous rent.”
“No, I mean that’s a police line,” he said, laughing at her cheerful audacity.
“Pshaw. I’m not police. You’re not police. I don’t see any police. C’mon!”
The stairs were dark and dusty. Every move raised clouds of choking gray mess, which made Angel sneeze near uncontrollably.
“Sorry” Laughed Veronica. “ I didn’t realize how bad this would seem to someone who wasn’t use to- oh my god!” Dashing forward a few more steps, she clutched at the doorsill of an apartment, which was marked with more yellow tape. The door had obviously been knocked clear off.
“Your apartment, I take it?”
“It looks like something’s been killed in there!” Veronica’s eyes started to fill with tears, and she tugged on the cuff of her glove with her teeth. “I can’t stay here! Oooh! Everything is just going wrong today!”
“Hey, hey it’s okay.” Angel said, patting her shoulder in a comforting manner. Helping Veronica was taking his mind off of his own problems. He took a step forward and looked in her apartment himself. “Or not.”
There wasn’t much left. The torn wallpaper, liberally splashed with blood, still showed darker patches left from where pictures and furniture had been. The couch was flung against a far wall, and bent in half, the stuffing trailed out onto the carpet, which might have had a pattern once. Angel stepped carefully into the room and looked at it. The odd thing seemed to be that the blood was old, faded to a brown against the dull wallpaper.
“You’re right- you can’t stay here.” After a moment of thought, he exhaled noisily. Inhaling again, he burst into a fit of sneezes. “Come to my place. In the morning, we can see about what happened.”
“Well- it’s marginally cleaner than my place.”
“Ha ha.” Angel threw an armful of blankets on the saggy couch. “I put fresh sheets on my bed- you can sleep there tonight.”
“I couldn’t put you out of your bed-“ Veronica insisted
“I couldn’t put you on that couch- there’s a kidney-seeking spring in there somewhere.”
Veronica laughed merrily.
“Thank you again- I seem to be getting deeper and deeper in your debt.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He ducked his head and ran a hand over his short, dark disheveled hair “There are some shirts you can sleep in in the top drawer in there.”
He was just tucking the last blanket on the couch when here was knock at the door. Answering it, he found a dusky skinned woman with thick, short golden blond hair, and green eyes. She wore a tan raincoat, which was dusted with drops, though she plainly tried to shake off before coming up.
“Perdia!”
“Hi Angel-“ She stepped through the door and gave him a firm hug. “I’d just come off shift and thought I’d come by and see how you’re doing.”
“You’re just a creature of habit. You’ve missed seeing me every night, and now you’re just coming up with excuses.”
”Oh come on, it was hardly EVERY night.” She smiled weakly.
“Never mind me, Dia- how are you holding up, this must be even worse for you?”
Perdia was Dolores’ little sister. Delores had been very dear in his heart, and he still blamed himself for her death. While it was unfounded, a part of him still believed that if he’d gone out to track down the killer in the first place, instead of waiting until he’d found out the killer had Dolores, she would still be alive. Perdia felt even worse- feeling that with all her skills as a hotshot detective, she should have found the killer without her sister’s help in the first place. They were united in their love for her- and in their guilt.
“You know, you could probably get your job back if you tried,” Perdia suggested
“No. I don’t want it back. It disagreed with me.”
“But you loved it.”
“It was good to have a job, but it made me feel odd, in all honesty. Spending more time with corpses than real people.” His gray-brown eyes became unfocused, as he stared into the distance. “I can’t tell you how… extestentail it made me feel.”
“Lots of people have trouble with morgues but-“
“Nah, I’ve decided that I’m going.”
“You’re going?” Perdia’s eyes clouded over “You can’t just leave- I… I’d miss you!”
Angel patted her cheek and grinned. He had to reach up to do it. She was a tall woman.
“I’ll miss you too, Dia.”
“Angel?”
They both turned to see Veronica emerge timidly from the bedroom, wearing one of Angel’s shirts. He wore them big, and she wasn’t any bigger than he was.
“I see.” Perdia’s mouth drew into a thin line. “Booty call.”
“Does this look like a booty call to you?!” demanded Angel jerking a thumb at the couch, which was made up neatly. “She got mugged and her apartment got trashed. I’m just letting her crash with me, is all.”
“mmmhhmmm.”
“No really!” Veronica said. “Angel’s such a life saver! I thought I was dead, and he saved me.”
“Did he?” Perdia turned to look at Angel, who was looking at his feet.
“It wasn’t that impressive. I should’ve taken her in to file a report, but there was no sign of an attacker, and God knows you don’t need any more unsolved crimes”
Veronica looked back and forth between the two of them uncertainly as they glared at each other.
“I can go…” she offered.
“No, that’s fine, Veronica.” Both Angel and Perdia said it at the same time, and for an instant the apartment was filled with tension. Perdia was the first one to smile and they both burst into laughter.
“I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions, Angel.” Perdia said, pushing her bangs out of her eyes as they both subsided. Veronica just watched them both, hands tugging the edge of the shirt down.
“It’s alright, I guess. Lots of people’d jump to that conclusion, ‘Dia.”
Perdia looked at Veronica again, now that the misunderstanding was cleared up.
“You look familiar.”
“Well I am an actress.” The dark haired woman replied brightly. “Maybe you’ve seen me perform?”
“No I don’t think that’s it…” Perdia shook her head. “Look, if I’m off shift, it’s getting late, I’ll stop by tomorrow.”
“Goodnight ‘Dia.”
“Goodnight Angel.” She gave him a quick friendly embrace, which he returned, and left.
“Sorry about that.” Angel muttered scratching the back of his head. “I don’t know where she got such a low opinion of me.”
“It’s perfectly normal, I think. How long has she been in love with you?”
Angel stared at Veronica for a moment, then burst out laughing again. “In love with me? don’t be silly.”
Veronica smiled a little crookedly and shook her head. “If you say so Angel.”
The kidney seeking spring did its job. It kept Angel awake and staring at the ceiling. Every time he groped after it to rip the offending hunk of metal out, it mysteriously disappeared. At last, he sat up and lit a cigarette. It was in that strange hour of the night, right before dawn, when the world was silent, like it had just taken a breath. Watching the dim trails of smoke float towards the ceiling, he let his mind go with them. For the first time in months, he thought about his mother, his sister, and everything he’d left behind. Kept leaving behind, actually. A glance around the apartment, as sparsely furnished as it was only reminded him of how much he’d leave behind again. Rubbing a hand across his eyes, he stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the end table and leaned back- and finally fell asleep.
It was near noon when he woke up. From the sound of things someone was knocking about in his kitchen.
“Dolores?” he called softly, as he scrubbed sleep stuff out of his eyes- then he remembered. Dolores was dead. So who the hell was in his kitchen? He came to his feet extracting his gun from his jacket and padding over. He turned the corner, just as Veronica stepped into view. She eeped and glanced down at the weapon in his hand. She was still wearing the oversized shirt, and she had tied an apron on over it. Angel recognized it- it had been in the apartment when he’d gotten here, and was spangled with unnaturally colored roses. “Since it’s not in your pocket, can I assume you aren’t happy to see me?”
Angel lowered the gun and sighed.
“I forgot you were here.”
Veronica smiled beautifully. “Oh, well, that’s okay- you remember now, right!? I made breakfast! You like eggs?”
Angel scratched his head. “I had eggs?”
“Yes!” She smiled again, a radiant smile that lit up the room, then turned and went back into the kitchen. Scratching absently, he followed.
“I didn’t think those were still good.”
“I just hope your apartment airs out.” Veronica sighed, and stared into her coffee mug. Her gloves were folded neatly beside it, and despite her apparent hunger, she hadn’t been able to face any food.
“As hard as it may be to believe, it’s smelled worse.”
“No-“ Veronica bubbled with laughter. “How?”
“Long story.”
“And one you don’t feel like relating, huh?” She asked arching an eyebrow.
“Not something for mixed company, that’s all.” A smile broke his dour expression. “My mother taught me lots of stuff, but cooking wasn’t on the list.”
“It’s hard to picture you having a mother.”
“Everyone has a mother.” Angel retorted.
“Tell me about her?”
“Ah gees.” He looked away, blinking. The question hit him hard. He’d just been thinking about her himself, and he missed her. He even missed his sister, who he’d never met. Turning back, he saw friendly interest in Veronica’s eyes, and to his surprise, he did tell her. Not everything, but more than he’d told anyone else. It was late afternoon by the time he’d finished.
“Are you doing anything today?” she asked.
“Hrm?”
“I thought that I’d go by the theatre, and see my director. He should be waking up soon.”
“What’s that got to do with me?”
“Well, if you weren’t doing anything, I thought you might like to learn about the theatre.” She pointed at him “I think you’d be a great actor.”
“Riiight.”
“No, really!”
“Well, I’m not doing anything, so sure. I’ll come.” He raised a hand. “But I’m not getting on stage.”
Angel rubbed his eyes. He should have gotten more sleep. Veronica’s form wavered as they entered the theatre. The theatre itself hadn’t looked like much. More than anything else, he was reminded of Veronica’s apartment house- it had the same aura of disuse.
“Hello?” called Veronica “Anyone there?!” She turned a corner, while Angel was looking at a poster that decorated the lobby. It was a little faded and torn, but it was clearly a picture of Veronica- well, a drawing, but it was her. To put it kindly, the performance seemed to be on the fringes of legitimate theatre- that is, it wasn’t a peep show, and seemed to have a story, but the main premise seemed to involve Veronica herself in all sorts of improbable situations, and unlikely costumes. A live theatre serial film. Who’d have thought? When he turned around to comment on this, she was gone.
“Aw, Hell.” He muttered, and sneezed in the dust. “Damn, her nose must be dead to miss this.” Angel shook his head, and moved quietly through the lobby and into the main theatre.
Like most theatres, it was dark and still, but thankfully, less dusty.
“Hey” he called softly. “Where’d you go?”
“What the hell are you doing here?!” shrieked a man’s voice.
Angel jumped. A scrawny man leapt down from the stage and dashed up the center isle.
“I’m sorry, you must be the director, I thought it’d be alright, since I came with Veronica…”
The wild-eyed man drew up short.
“What do you know about Veronica?”
“She’s just a friend” Was this man Veronica’s lover or something. “She wanted me to see where she worked.”
“She’s not here!” barked the man. “Go away”
“Look, I followed her in here, so…”
“LIAR!”
“Hey, look, I don’t appreciate being called a liar, buddy.” Angel said raising one hand in a warning gesture.
“You’re a fucking liar!” he drew a knife from the back of his belt and lunged. Taken by surprise, Angel barely got out the way. The knife pierced the leather of his jacket.
“You son of a bitch!” he slammed his elbow down, trapping the knife and palm striked the other man’s chin. The other man, taller but much scrawnier, fell over backwards, glasses tumbling off, as he hit the carpet.
“You’re lucky this jacket was already torn, or I’d be really mad.” Growled Angel, grey eyes narrowing, as he plucked the knife loose, and absently pocketed it. Then he realized that the man wasn’t moving. A quick check verified that his attacker was alive, and after that, Angel lost interest, in favor of looking around the theatre.
Most of it looked as though it hadn’t seen use in some time. Angel was sure that Veronica had said that she was getting ready for a show, but the backstage looked like someone had been living there for years- not getting ready for performances. Or even bathing. He wrinkled his nose in disgust and dropped the filthy garment he’d been inspecting. A sudden noise made him start and turn, looking around, only to discover to his chagrin, that once again, he’d been startled by the sharp trill of the mobile phone in his pocket.
“Foul thing” he addressed it as he pulled it out. “I never should have let Delores talk me into you.” While he was busy glaring it, it stopped ringing. Embarrassed, he hit the ‘callback’ button
“Angel!” yelped a voice over the phone.
“That’s me-“ he responded.
“What’s up, ‘Dia?”
“You won’t believe this-“
“Try me”
“No, really you won’t. Listen, is Veronica with you?”
“No, she’s disappeared, I can’t seem to find her.”
Perdia gave a short bark of a laugh. “Look, come down to the station, I’ll tell you there.”
“Hell I will. Ginnus hates me.”
“Ginnus doesn’t hate you- if anything he’s jealous.”
“He said if he saw my pale skinny ass again, he’d kick it back to Neo York.”
“He said that when he hired you.”
“… Fine.” Angel sighed. “Just let me find Veronica”
“Don’t worry about it, I’m sure she’s fine. Come down here. Now.”
“Hey, it’s the little doc. Yo, Angel, s’up?”
It was almost funny. Rosuto Doushi’s population was, on a whole, not that much taller than Angel. But he had somehow gotten a reputation for being short- and kind of insane, but in that good way. After all, not many grown men would put up with the nickname ‘Angel’, let alone prefer it.
“Not much, where’s ‘Dia?”
“Coffee.” One of the men pointed over his head, still typing a report with one hand.
“You! Shelly!”
Angel winced, and turned to face the least friendly voice he’d heard all day- and that included the guy who’d attacked him. “I thought I’d told you what I’d do if you showed up here…”
“I wish you would, it’d save on my boot leather…”
A vein stood out in stark relief on the other man’s forehead. Police Chief Tai Ginnus believed in a hands-on approach to managing his men. According to everyone else, he was the calmest, nicest man they’d ever met. That was a side that Angel had never seen. For some reason Ginnus had taken an immediate dislike to him. Someone had suggested that Ginnus had to hate someone and the guy he’d hated before Angel had just retired. Angel was glad; somewhat that he was still keeping Ginnus from inflicting his wrath on anyone new.
“You were fired for a reason-“
“Yeah, I’m a vigilante. Which the court decided was okay this once, don’t let us catch you doing it again.” Angel smiled brightly. “I’m just visiting a friend, this is still a public place, right?”
Angel’s eyebrows raised as Ginnus did his impression of a beet- which was interrupted by Perdia finding them staring at each other.
“Angel, what are you doing I wanted to talk to you, not give Chief an apoplexy…”
“You know she’s right- as a professional opinion you should see someone about your stress levels.”
“Angel!” Perdia dragged him off before the commissioner exploded.
“So what was so all fired important?” Angel asked hitching up to sit on the edge of Perdia’s desk.
“I remembered where I’d seen Veronica before.”
“And this was so important you called me down to the station?”
“No- this is.” She tossed a folder at him, which he caught, and opened. And stared.
“You being the highly educated person you are, you tell me what that is.”
“It’s a morgue shot.”
“Of who?”
“It certainly appears to be Veronica.” He flipped a page to read the name, and grimaced before putting the file on her desk.
Perdia nodded. “Veronica Mills. A big time actress on the small stage- who was attacked in the park, but got away only to be brutally raped and murdered in her apartment- four years ago.”
Angel looked up at her and shifted in place. Something was poking him.
“They, or rather, we, because I’d just joined at that point, never found who did it.”
“This has got to be-“
“A mistake, or a coincidence maybe- or a genuine supernatural occurrence?”
“You’re a bitch ‘dia.”
“Born and bred. You sir, just interfered with a haunting, and had a ghost for a guest.”
“Look Pe- ow!” He pulled the knife out of the back of his belt and frowned at it. “Damn I forgot all about this.”
“What is it?”
“When Veronica took me to her theatre some whacko attacked me- I pocketed his knife after disarming him.” He tossed the knife on top of the folder. “Tore a gash on the other side of my coat, will you credit it?” He shrugged the coat off, and spread it over his legs. “Weird.”
“What?” Perdia leaned over his shoulder to see the cuts at the same angle.
“I may be wrong- but these cuts look almost identical…”
“How would that be possible- the whacko in the theatre made that one when he attacked you- but where did the other come from?”
“Oh I got it when I rescued Veronica.” He half turned so he could look into Perdia’s eyes.
They both then looked at the knife, then back at each other. Carefully, Perdia pulled a plastic bag out of her desk and dropped the knife into it.
“Can I have your coat, Angel?”
“Sure- aren’t you weirded out by this?”
“A little, but hey, I wasn’t the one involved. I just pointed it out.”
“Heh. I guess.” He scratched his head. “I’ve never dealt with ghosts before.”
“Scared?”
“More disturbed.” He corrected. “I mean, hell- look at that,” he pointed. “The guy wasn’t even there, and he slashed the hell out of my coat. I could have been killed by a ghost.” Angel shook his head, bemused. “Now that would be an ‘unsolved’ for your books.”
Perdia smiled. “Yeah. Now I’ve just got to backtrack this.” She prodded the knife. “Who knows- we may get lucky.”
“Yeah” Angel stared out into the main room, and out the windows, where night had fallen, and mist was once again trailing upward from the pavement.
“Angel?” Perdia said softly. While he stared into the distance, she had been staring at him. He looked- lonely. Confused. Almost scared. “Angel, are you okay?”
“What?” he turned back to her. “Yeah. Just thinking of the trip home.”
“You apartment isn’t that far.”
“No. Neo York.”
Perdia’s face fell. “Not this again- Angel you-“
“I gotta go.”
“Where? Where are you going?” was he leaving already- and when he left would he even bother today good-bye?
“Look, ‘Dia, you have work, at least, if nothing else trying to explain this to the cold-case lab, and I’m heading back to the park.”
“The park?”
“It’s where I… encountered Veronica. Maybe she’ll be there again.”
“And that’ll do what, precisely?”
“I’m going to tell her she’s dead.”
“I’m sure -that’ll- go over well.”
Being lost in the mist was kind of comforting. Without any really strong grounding, his mind didn’t bother processing. It drifted.
“Hello.”
He jumped a foot.
“Veronica.”
She didn’t seem so much to be in the mist so much as projected onto the mist.
“I must have gotten distracted.” She muttered, drawing a glove across her eyes.
“Did you now you were dead?” Angel asked bluntly.
Veronica shifted back and forth in place but didn’t move.
“Not at first. But by evening today, yes.” Again the shifting, which seemed more like a waver.
“I’ve never met a ghost before.”
“I didn’t realize I was a ghost before.” She retorted, and punched the mist. “I remember mist and pain, and then it just looped!”
“I guess it’s my fault you woke up then.” Angel scratched the back of his neck.
“What happened to your jacket?” Veronica asked.
“Funny story about that-“ he smiled. “See the abandoned theatre that you brought me too this afternoon? It wasn’t abandoned, some skinny guy attacked me with a knife- and”
“Creedee.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Veronica shook her head. “My director. He never left the theatre if he could help it, that’s why it was so strange…”
“What was…?”
“To see him in the park.” She sighed, and her edges blurred like ink on damp paper. “I was taking a shortcut home and it was foggy so I got lost- stupid right, but I cut through this park all the time. And Creedee was… waiting for me, I guess.”
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Angel sighed. “He killed you.”
“Just scared me first, but then he got so mad- and I screamed for help and no one came, so I ran- I was bleeding.” The dark eyed woman was looking past Angel now, with a odd, pensive expression on her face, as if she was seeing something a long way off.
“Does it help that they may actually punish him?”
“It was enough that somebody came to help.” A misty hand reached out and touched his face. “Thank you. Angel, it means a lot.”
“So… You gonna stop being a ghost now, do you think?”
“I dunno, Angel, I’ve never done this before” She leaned forward, and he felt a kiss like a brush of wind across his lips. “I hope you’ll be happy, though. Thank you again.” Then there was nothing but the mist.
Angel went back to the bench under the streetlight, and sat there until morning.
A week later, Perdia came to Angel’s apartment, she was excited; despite the fact that anything found out through a haunting was not admissible in court, the evidence that Angel had found was enough to catch the man who’d killed Veronica Mills. She still thought it was a little weird to meet a woman years after her murder, but since it all turned out right, she wasn’t letting it bother her. She knocked on the door and waited. There wasn’t any answer. She knocked again.
“Hey- you Perdia?”
She turned to see one of the other doors in the hallway was open and an old man was sticking his head out.
“Yes?”
“The boy asked me to give this envelope to you- and they key to his place.”
“They key?” She took the key and the envelope and would have asked the old man more questions, but he’d already gone back into his apartment. “Oh no Angel, you didn’t you didn’t-“ Reading over the note quickly she crushed it in her hand and covered her eyes. “Oh god. You did.”
He looked back at the city and sighed. From this rise, he could see the skyline, muted as it was behind the city’s haze, painted bloody pastels by the sunset behind him. Angel felt a twinge of regret, but felt that this was for the best. From here, there was a train stop twenty miles south. He could get to that by morning.. Well- maybe not. He was out of shape. He thought about the letter he’d left Perdia- who was probably the only one who’d notice he was gone.
“Perdia- You’re probably thinking I’m a jerk. Well, I am. I never claimed to be anything else. But the longer I stick around, the more likely it is that I’ll stay, and no good can come of that. At least this way, I’m leaving on a high note.
If I told you or said goodbye, you’d try to stop me, to convince me not to go. I guess it says something about how much I like you that I don’t want to face that.
What I have isn’t much, but it’s yours. You’re the only one I’m going to miss with Delores dead. We were almost a family, weren’t we? I wouldn’t trade the year we had for a decade of the way I had been living.
But I still have to go. I’m just lucky that The Guild’s presence in Rosuto Doushi is minimal. The thing is, I’m wanted by the Guild. I’m not going to go into the reasons. You probably wouldn’t believe me. But what I’ve been doing is running away.
And I think it’s time that I ran back. If all goes well, I may come back- if not; I hope- nah, it’s silly for me to hope anything for you. Just be happy, Perdia. -‘Angel’
Ps: My real name is Victor. I don’t know if you ever knew it.”
Angel hoped that she wouldn’t do anything stupid, like come after him. Nah, she had no idea when he’d left- and he had no idea when she’d come by his apartment- hopefully before the ‘last month’s rent’ was up. Even still he wasn’t sure enough of himself to leave from the city station. Shouldering his pack, Angel started off down the road again. The sun slipped away, and the stars shone down on him, lighting the road up like a silver path to the future.
... okay frankly? Not my best work. But there are still things I like about it, and mostly what bothers me is the fact I dont' let the audence know everything.
The mist trailed over the hills like a silken shawl. It caressed the trees and trailed up to the streetlights, turning even more opaque as it enclosed the light. In one such globe of light there was a dark smudge, that had it been a clear night would have been a bench. Surrounded by the shrouded branches of trees as it was, that bench was a favorite of young lovers. But on a night that was choked with thick spring mists, as warm as they were, no one was out sharing the air.
The bench, however, was not empty. A low dark figure lay on his back on it, staring up at the brighter patch around the lamp. He was also of the opinion that only an idiot would be out in this, but he wasn’t feeling too smart just then, anyway. A plume of blue gray smoke left his lips and faded into the overwhelming mist. Turning his head aside, he watched water bead on his black leather coat for a moment, and then took another drag. Both the dampness and the solitude suited him that night. He’d just lost his girlfriend Delores, and shortly after that, his job. Not that working in a morgue was any great thrill, but it was something. Maybe it was time to get moving. This was the longest he’d ever stayed in once town before.
Suddenly he grabbed the back of the bench and yanked himself up into a sitting position.
“What was that?” he growled under his breath and lurched to his feet. Whatever he had heard must have repeated, because the butt of his cigarette tumbled to the ground and was crushed under his foot as he moved into the silken gray fog.
Running through fog is dangerous, but it can be an acquired skill. He skidded to a halt, grabbed the woman by the upper arms and spun, putting his back to the attacker, while protecting the woman. He felt a knife go through the leather of his jacket- luckily under his arm where there was looseness. While it did no damage there, it would have done horrible things to the woman if it had struck her in the same area. He let go of her arms, and she collapsed onto her knees, in shock. He drove backwards with his elbow, turning it into a spin back to face the attacker. He thought he hit something but he couldn’t be sure. Nothing seemed to be behind him now, only the mist, which was swiftly thickening to a true fog.
“Oh god, am I dead?” whimpered the girl
“No, you’re fine. Who was that?”
The woman looked up at him. Tears brimmed in her eyes. Those eyes were a liquid brown in which her pupils were lost, and rimmed with thick dark lashes.
“I don’t know, I was just coming home from the theatre- and it got so foggy and I was lost and-“
“It’s okay now.” He reassured her. “What’s your name-“
“And he grabbed me, and then you grabbed me and you saved me you saved me you saved”
“Your name-“
“You saved” she looked at him in confusion for a moment, then pursed her dark painted mouth, and answered “Veronica.”
”Good- are you hurt?”
“Nuh- no… just.. just a little shaken up.”
“Good.” He helped her to her feet, and suppressed the urge to dust her off himself.
“You just came out of nowhere- just when I needed a rescue I thought no one would come.”
“Breathe Veronica. It’s important.”
Shocked she took a deep breath, and then continued. “I mean, how did you even know I was in trouble- I didn’t have time to scream, and you just came out of the fog like like like some sort of…”
“Angel.” He supplied, with a chuckle in his voice.
“Yes! Exactly so, like an angel.”
He bent his head and started inspecting the hole in his coat. It was a deep slit, rough on one edge, but what had made the main cut was obviously a very sharp knife. He realized that she’d spoken to him, and glanced up. While she was probably about his height, her heels made it necessary to look up slightly to see her eyes.
“I beg your pardon?”
“What’s your name?” she repeated. “I mean, since you rescued me and all we should be introduced.”
“Well, recently, people call me Angel.”
“Oh!” She covered her mouth with her hand, but it didn’t forestall the laughter that came bubbling out. In spite of himself, Angel smiled back.
“Then do you make a habit of rescuing young ladies in distress?” Veronica asked merrily. “Since you’ve acquired such a nickname?”
The question made his face fall, as he remembered why he’d been moping about in the mists in the first place. He dropped his head down again, reexamining the hole in his coat.
“I used to.” Angel muttered. “My track record hasn’t been too good lately.”
“Well you saved me,” Veronica pointed out. “That’s something. It’s important to me.”
“I suppose it would be. “ he chuckled to himself again, a bit sadly.
“There now.” She smiled brightly. “Would you walk me home, Mr. Angel?”
“Shelly. My last name is Shelly.” He said, unable to stop a smile.”
“Oh but I like Angel-“
“Then you can call me that; and yes, I’ll walk you home. It’s kind of odd that someone would attack like that and then run away.”
Once out of the hilly park, the fog thinned once again to mist, wreathing the world, but not obscuring it. The streets of Rosuto Doushi were empty in the late night, and everything was closed up in the promise a thunderstorm that was due to come later that night. Above them, the stars danced with the clouds. Veronica led them along side streets, until they came to a several story building, which she then stared up at in dismay. Across the door was a large yellow sticker, and in front of that, two long swaths of tape that read ‘do not enter’ in large black letters.
“They finally did it.” Veronica sighed. “They’ve been threatening to condemn my building for years, but I would of thought I’d get more warning than this!” Her skirt stretched over her thighs as she stepped over the lower swath, and under the lower.
“Whoa!” before she could tip over, Angel reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her steady. She flashed a white-toothed smile, over her shoulder, and slipped her gloved hand from his, going to break the sticker that held the door shut.
“Veronica, I don’t think you should do that.”
The dark haired woman laughed, tossing her neatly combed hair back, as she opened the door wide, and gestured for him to follow her.
“It’s where I live, Angel. They’ve condemned it three times in the last four years, but it hasn’t stopped the landlord form charging ridiculous rent.”
“No, I mean that’s a police line,” he said, laughing at her cheerful audacity.
“Pshaw. I’m not police. You’re not police. I don’t see any police. C’mon!”
The stairs were dark and dusty. Every move raised clouds of choking gray mess, which made Angel sneeze near uncontrollably.
“Sorry” Laughed Veronica. “ I didn’t realize how bad this would seem to someone who wasn’t use to- oh my god!” Dashing forward a few more steps, she clutched at the doorsill of an apartment, which was marked with more yellow tape. The door had obviously been knocked clear off.
“Your apartment, I take it?”
“It looks like something’s been killed in there!” Veronica’s eyes started to fill with tears, and she tugged on the cuff of her glove with her teeth. “I can’t stay here! Oooh! Everything is just going wrong today!”
“Hey, hey it’s okay.” Angel said, patting her shoulder in a comforting manner. Helping Veronica was taking his mind off of his own problems. He took a step forward and looked in her apartment himself. “Or not.”
There wasn’t much left. The torn wallpaper, liberally splashed with blood, still showed darker patches left from where pictures and furniture had been. The couch was flung against a far wall, and bent in half, the stuffing trailed out onto the carpet, which might have had a pattern once. Angel stepped carefully into the room and looked at it. The odd thing seemed to be that the blood was old, faded to a brown against the dull wallpaper.
“You’re right- you can’t stay here.” After a moment of thought, he exhaled noisily. Inhaling again, he burst into a fit of sneezes. “Come to my place. In the morning, we can see about what happened.”
“Well- it’s marginally cleaner than my place.”
“Ha ha.” Angel threw an armful of blankets on the saggy couch. “I put fresh sheets on my bed- you can sleep there tonight.”
“I couldn’t put you out of your bed-“ Veronica insisted
“I couldn’t put you on that couch- there’s a kidney-seeking spring in there somewhere.”
Veronica laughed merrily.
“Thank you again- I seem to be getting deeper and deeper in your debt.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He ducked his head and ran a hand over his short, dark disheveled hair “There are some shirts you can sleep in in the top drawer in there.”
He was just tucking the last blanket on the couch when here was knock at the door. Answering it, he found a dusky skinned woman with thick, short golden blond hair, and green eyes. She wore a tan raincoat, which was dusted with drops, though she plainly tried to shake off before coming up.
“Perdia!”
“Hi Angel-“ She stepped through the door and gave him a firm hug. “I’d just come off shift and thought I’d come by and see how you’re doing.”
“You’re just a creature of habit. You’ve missed seeing me every night, and now you’re just coming up with excuses.”
”Oh come on, it was hardly EVERY night.” She smiled weakly.
“Never mind me, Dia- how are you holding up, this must be even worse for you?”
Perdia was Dolores’ little sister. Delores had been very dear in his heart, and he still blamed himself for her death. While it was unfounded, a part of him still believed that if he’d gone out to track down the killer in the first place, instead of waiting until he’d found out the killer had Dolores, she would still be alive. Perdia felt even worse- feeling that with all her skills as a hotshot detective, she should have found the killer without her sister’s help in the first place. They were united in their love for her- and in their guilt.
“You know, you could probably get your job back if you tried,” Perdia suggested
“No. I don’t want it back. It disagreed with me.”
“But you loved it.”
“It was good to have a job, but it made me feel odd, in all honesty. Spending more time with corpses than real people.” His gray-brown eyes became unfocused, as he stared into the distance. “I can’t tell you how… extestentail it made me feel.”
“Lots of people have trouble with morgues but-“
“Nah, I’ve decided that I’m going.”
“You’re going?” Perdia’s eyes clouded over “You can’t just leave- I… I’d miss you!”
Angel patted her cheek and grinned. He had to reach up to do it. She was a tall woman.
“I’ll miss you too, Dia.”
“Angel?”
They both turned to see Veronica emerge timidly from the bedroom, wearing one of Angel’s shirts. He wore them big, and she wasn’t any bigger than he was.
“I see.” Perdia’s mouth drew into a thin line. “Booty call.”
“Does this look like a booty call to you?!” demanded Angel jerking a thumb at the couch, which was made up neatly. “She got mugged and her apartment got trashed. I’m just letting her crash with me, is all.”
“mmmhhmmm.”
“No really!” Veronica said. “Angel’s such a life saver! I thought I was dead, and he saved me.”
“Did he?” Perdia turned to look at Angel, who was looking at his feet.
“It wasn’t that impressive. I should’ve taken her in to file a report, but there was no sign of an attacker, and God knows you don’t need any more unsolved crimes”
Veronica looked back and forth between the two of them uncertainly as they glared at each other.
“I can go…” she offered.
“No, that’s fine, Veronica.” Both Angel and Perdia said it at the same time, and for an instant the apartment was filled with tension. Perdia was the first one to smile and they both burst into laughter.
“I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions, Angel.” Perdia said, pushing her bangs out of her eyes as they both subsided. Veronica just watched them both, hands tugging the edge of the shirt down.
“It’s alright, I guess. Lots of people’d jump to that conclusion, ‘Dia.”
Perdia looked at Veronica again, now that the misunderstanding was cleared up.
“You look familiar.”
“Well I am an actress.” The dark haired woman replied brightly. “Maybe you’ve seen me perform?”
“No I don’t think that’s it…” Perdia shook her head. “Look, if I’m off shift, it’s getting late, I’ll stop by tomorrow.”
“Goodnight ‘Dia.”
“Goodnight Angel.” She gave him a quick friendly embrace, which he returned, and left.
“Sorry about that.” Angel muttered scratching the back of his head. “I don’t know where she got such a low opinion of me.”
“It’s perfectly normal, I think. How long has she been in love with you?”
Angel stared at Veronica for a moment, then burst out laughing again. “In love with me? don’t be silly.”
Veronica smiled a little crookedly and shook her head. “If you say so Angel.”
The kidney seeking spring did its job. It kept Angel awake and staring at the ceiling. Every time he groped after it to rip the offending hunk of metal out, it mysteriously disappeared. At last, he sat up and lit a cigarette. It was in that strange hour of the night, right before dawn, when the world was silent, like it had just taken a breath. Watching the dim trails of smoke float towards the ceiling, he let his mind go with them. For the first time in months, he thought about his mother, his sister, and everything he’d left behind. Kept leaving behind, actually. A glance around the apartment, as sparsely furnished as it was only reminded him of how much he’d leave behind again. Rubbing a hand across his eyes, he stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the end table and leaned back- and finally fell asleep.
It was near noon when he woke up. From the sound of things someone was knocking about in his kitchen.
“Dolores?” he called softly, as he scrubbed sleep stuff out of his eyes- then he remembered. Dolores was dead. So who the hell was in his kitchen? He came to his feet extracting his gun from his jacket and padding over. He turned the corner, just as Veronica stepped into view. She eeped and glanced down at the weapon in his hand. She was still wearing the oversized shirt, and she had tied an apron on over it. Angel recognized it- it had been in the apartment when he’d gotten here, and was spangled with unnaturally colored roses. “Since it’s not in your pocket, can I assume you aren’t happy to see me?”
Angel lowered the gun and sighed.
“I forgot you were here.”
Veronica smiled beautifully. “Oh, well, that’s okay- you remember now, right!? I made breakfast! You like eggs?”
Angel scratched his head. “I had eggs?”
“Yes!” She smiled again, a radiant smile that lit up the room, then turned and went back into the kitchen. Scratching absently, he followed.
“I didn’t think those were still good.”
“I just hope your apartment airs out.” Veronica sighed, and stared into her coffee mug. Her gloves were folded neatly beside it, and despite her apparent hunger, she hadn’t been able to face any food.
“As hard as it may be to believe, it’s smelled worse.”
“No-“ Veronica bubbled with laughter. “How?”
“Long story.”
“And one you don’t feel like relating, huh?” She asked arching an eyebrow.
“Not something for mixed company, that’s all.” A smile broke his dour expression. “My mother taught me lots of stuff, but cooking wasn’t on the list.”
“It’s hard to picture you having a mother.”
“Everyone has a mother.” Angel retorted.
“Tell me about her?”
“Ah gees.” He looked away, blinking. The question hit him hard. He’d just been thinking about her himself, and he missed her. He even missed his sister, who he’d never met. Turning back, he saw friendly interest in Veronica’s eyes, and to his surprise, he did tell her. Not everything, but more than he’d told anyone else. It was late afternoon by the time he’d finished.
“Are you doing anything today?” she asked.
“Hrm?”
“I thought that I’d go by the theatre, and see my director. He should be waking up soon.”
“What’s that got to do with me?”
“Well, if you weren’t doing anything, I thought you might like to learn about the theatre.” She pointed at him “I think you’d be a great actor.”
“Riiight.”
“No, really!”
“Well, I’m not doing anything, so sure. I’ll come.” He raised a hand. “But I’m not getting on stage.”
Angel rubbed his eyes. He should have gotten more sleep. Veronica’s form wavered as they entered the theatre. The theatre itself hadn’t looked like much. More than anything else, he was reminded of Veronica’s apartment house- it had the same aura of disuse.
“Hello?” called Veronica “Anyone there?!” She turned a corner, while Angel was looking at a poster that decorated the lobby. It was a little faded and torn, but it was clearly a picture of Veronica- well, a drawing, but it was her. To put it kindly, the performance seemed to be on the fringes of legitimate theatre- that is, it wasn’t a peep show, and seemed to have a story, but the main premise seemed to involve Veronica herself in all sorts of improbable situations, and unlikely costumes. A live theatre serial film. Who’d have thought? When he turned around to comment on this, she was gone.
“Aw, Hell.” He muttered, and sneezed in the dust. “Damn, her nose must be dead to miss this.” Angel shook his head, and moved quietly through the lobby and into the main theatre.
Like most theatres, it was dark and still, but thankfully, less dusty.
“Hey” he called softly. “Where’d you go?”
“What the hell are you doing here?!” shrieked a man’s voice.
Angel jumped. A scrawny man leapt down from the stage and dashed up the center isle.
“I’m sorry, you must be the director, I thought it’d be alright, since I came with Veronica…”
The wild-eyed man drew up short.
“What do you know about Veronica?”
“She’s just a friend” Was this man Veronica’s lover or something. “She wanted me to see where she worked.”
“She’s not here!” barked the man. “Go away”
“Look, I followed her in here, so…”
“LIAR!”
“Hey, look, I don’t appreciate being called a liar, buddy.” Angel said raising one hand in a warning gesture.
“You’re a fucking liar!” he drew a knife from the back of his belt and lunged. Taken by surprise, Angel barely got out the way. The knife pierced the leather of his jacket.
“You son of a bitch!” he slammed his elbow down, trapping the knife and palm striked the other man’s chin. The other man, taller but much scrawnier, fell over backwards, glasses tumbling off, as he hit the carpet.
“You’re lucky this jacket was already torn, or I’d be really mad.” Growled Angel, grey eyes narrowing, as he plucked the knife loose, and absently pocketed it. Then he realized that the man wasn’t moving. A quick check verified that his attacker was alive, and after that, Angel lost interest, in favor of looking around the theatre.
Most of it looked as though it hadn’t seen use in some time. Angel was sure that Veronica had said that she was getting ready for a show, but the backstage looked like someone had been living there for years- not getting ready for performances. Or even bathing. He wrinkled his nose in disgust and dropped the filthy garment he’d been inspecting. A sudden noise made him start and turn, looking around, only to discover to his chagrin, that once again, he’d been startled by the sharp trill of the mobile phone in his pocket.
“Foul thing” he addressed it as he pulled it out. “I never should have let Delores talk me into you.” While he was busy glaring it, it stopped ringing. Embarrassed, he hit the ‘callback’ button
“Angel!” yelped a voice over the phone.
“That’s me-“ he responded.
“What’s up, ‘Dia?”
“You won’t believe this-“
“Try me”
“No, really you won’t. Listen, is Veronica with you?”
“No, she’s disappeared, I can’t seem to find her.”
Perdia gave a short bark of a laugh. “Look, come down to the station, I’ll tell you there.”
“Hell I will. Ginnus hates me.”
“Ginnus doesn’t hate you- if anything he’s jealous.”
“He said if he saw my pale skinny ass again, he’d kick it back to Neo York.”
“He said that when he hired you.”
“… Fine.” Angel sighed. “Just let me find Veronica”
“Don’t worry about it, I’m sure she’s fine. Come down here. Now.”
“Hey, it’s the little doc. Yo, Angel, s’up?”
It was almost funny. Rosuto Doushi’s population was, on a whole, not that much taller than Angel. But he had somehow gotten a reputation for being short- and kind of insane, but in that good way. After all, not many grown men would put up with the nickname ‘Angel’, let alone prefer it.
“Not much, where’s ‘Dia?”
“Coffee.” One of the men pointed over his head, still typing a report with one hand.
“You! Shelly!”
Angel winced, and turned to face the least friendly voice he’d heard all day- and that included the guy who’d attacked him. “I thought I’d told you what I’d do if you showed up here…”
“I wish you would, it’d save on my boot leather…”
A vein stood out in stark relief on the other man’s forehead. Police Chief Tai Ginnus believed in a hands-on approach to managing his men. According to everyone else, he was the calmest, nicest man they’d ever met. That was a side that Angel had never seen. For some reason Ginnus had taken an immediate dislike to him. Someone had suggested that Ginnus had to hate someone and the guy he’d hated before Angel had just retired. Angel was glad; somewhat that he was still keeping Ginnus from inflicting his wrath on anyone new.
“You were fired for a reason-“
“Yeah, I’m a vigilante. Which the court decided was okay this once, don’t let us catch you doing it again.” Angel smiled brightly. “I’m just visiting a friend, this is still a public place, right?”
Angel’s eyebrows raised as Ginnus did his impression of a beet- which was interrupted by Perdia finding them staring at each other.
“Angel, what are you doing I wanted to talk to you, not give Chief an apoplexy…”
“You know she’s right- as a professional opinion you should see someone about your stress levels.”
“Angel!” Perdia dragged him off before the commissioner exploded.
“So what was so all fired important?” Angel asked hitching up to sit on the edge of Perdia’s desk.
“I remembered where I’d seen Veronica before.”
“And this was so important you called me down to the station?”
“No- this is.” She tossed a folder at him, which he caught, and opened. And stared.
“You being the highly educated person you are, you tell me what that is.”
“It’s a morgue shot.”
“Of who?”
“It certainly appears to be Veronica.” He flipped a page to read the name, and grimaced before putting the file on her desk.
Perdia nodded. “Veronica Mills. A big time actress on the small stage- who was attacked in the park, but got away only to be brutally raped and murdered in her apartment- four years ago.”
Angel looked up at her and shifted in place. Something was poking him.
“They, or rather, we, because I’d just joined at that point, never found who did it.”
“This has got to be-“
“A mistake, or a coincidence maybe- or a genuine supernatural occurrence?”
“You’re a bitch ‘dia.”
“Born and bred. You sir, just interfered with a haunting, and had a ghost for a guest.”
“Look Pe- ow!” He pulled the knife out of the back of his belt and frowned at it. “Damn I forgot all about this.”
“What is it?”
“When Veronica took me to her theatre some whacko attacked me- I pocketed his knife after disarming him.” He tossed the knife on top of the folder. “Tore a gash on the other side of my coat, will you credit it?” He shrugged the coat off, and spread it over his legs. “Weird.”
“What?” Perdia leaned over his shoulder to see the cuts at the same angle.
“I may be wrong- but these cuts look almost identical…”
“How would that be possible- the whacko in the theatre made that one when he attacked you- but where did the other come from?”
“Oh I got it when I rescued Veronica.” He half turned so he could look into Perdia’s eyes.
They both then looked at the knife, then back at each other. Carefully, Perdia pulled a plastic bag out of her desk and dropped the knife into it.
“Can I have your coat, Angel?”
“Sure- aren’t you weirded out by this?”
“A little, but hey, I wasn’t the one involved. I just pointed it out.”
“Heh. I guess.” He scratched his head. “I’ve never dealt with ghosts before.”
“Scared?”
“More disturbed.” He corrected. “I mean, hell- look at that,” he pointed. “The guy wasn’t even there, and he slashed the hell out of my coat. I could have been killed by a ghost.” Angel shook his head, bemused. “Now that would be an ‘unsolved’ for your books.”
Perdia smiled. “Yeah. Now I’ve just got to backtrack this.” She prodded the knife. “Who knows- we may get lucky.”
“Yeah” Angel stared out into the main room, and out the windows, where night had fallen, and mist was once again trailing upward from the pavement.
“Angel?” Perdia said softly. While he stared into the distance, she had been staring at him. He looked- lonely. Confused. Almost scared. “Angel, are you okay?”
“What?” he turned back to her. “Yeah. Just thinking of the trip home.”
“You apartment isn’t that far.”
“No. Neo York.”
Perdia’s face fell. “Not this again- Angel you-“
“I gotta go.”
“Where? Where are you going?” was he leaving already- and when he left would he even bother today good-bye?
“Look, ‘Dia, you have work, at least, if nothing else trying to explain this to the cold-case lab, and I’m heading back to the park.”
“The park?”
“It’s where I… encountered Veronica. Maybe she’ll be there again.”
“And that’ll do what, precisely?”
“I’m going to tell her she’s dead.”
“I’m sure -that’ll- go over well.”
Being lost in the mist was kind of comforting. Without any really strong grounding, his mind didn’t bother processing. It drifted.
“Hello.”
He jumped a foot.
“Veronica.”
She didn’t seem so much to be in the mist so much as projected onto the mist.
“I must have gotten distracted.” She muttered, drawing a glove across her eyes.
“Did you now you were dead?” Angel asked bluntly.
Veronica shifted back and forth in place but didn’t move.
“Not at first. But by evening today, yes.” Again the shifting, which seemed more like a waver.
“I’ve never met a ghost before.”
“I didn’t realize I was a ghost before.” She retorted, and punched the mist. “I remember mist and pain, and then it just looped!”
“I guess it’s my fault you woke up then.” Angel scratched the back of his neck.
“What happened to your jacket?” Veronica asked.
“Funny story about that-“ he smiled. “See the abandoned theatre that you brought me too this afternoon? It wasn’t abandoned, some skinny guy attacked me with a knife- and”
“Creedee.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Veronica shook her head. “My director. He never left the theatre if he could help it, that’s why it was so strange…”
“What was…?”
“To see him in the park.” She sighed, and her edges blurred like ink on damp paper. “I was taking a shortcut home and it was foggy so I got lost- stupid right, but I cut through this park all the time. And Creedee was… waiting for me, I guess.”
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Angel sighed. “He killed you.”
“Just scared me first, but then he got so mad- and I screamed for help and no one came, so I ran- I was bleeding.” The dark eyed woman was looking past Angel now, with a odd, pensive expression on her face, as if she was seeing something a long way off.
“Does it help that they may actually punish him?”
“It was enough that somebody came to help.” A misty hand reached out and touched his face. “Thank you. Angel, it means a lot.”
“So… You gonna stop being a ghost now, do you think?”
“I dunno, Angel, I’ve never done this before” She leaned forward, and he felt a kiss like a brush of wind across his lips. “I hope you’ll be happy, though. Thank you again.” Then there was nothing but the mist.
Angel went back to the bench under the streetlight, and sat there until morning.
A week later, Perdia came to Angel’s apartment, she was excited; despite the fact that anything found out through a haunting was not admissible in court, the evidence that Angel had found was enough to catch the man who’d killed Veronica Mills. She still thought it was a little weird to meet a woman years after her murder, but since it all turned out right, she wasn’t letting it bother her. She knocked on the door and waited. There wasn’t any answer. She knocked again.
“Hey- you Perdia?”
She turned to see one of the other doors in the hallway was open and an old man was sticking his head out.
“Yes?”
“The boy asked me to give this envelope to you- and they key to his place.”
“They key?” She took the key and the envelope and would have asked the old man more questions, but he’d already gone back into his apartment. “Oh no Angel, you didn’t you didn’t-“ Reading over the note quickly she crushed it in her hand and covered her eyes. “Oh god. You did.”
He looked back at the city and sighed. From this rise, he could see the skyline, muted as it was behind the city’s haze, painted bloody pastels by the sunset behind him. Angel felt a twinge of regret, but felt that this was for the best. From here, there was a train stop twenty miles south. He could get to that by morning.. Well- maybe not. He was out of shape. He thought about the letter he’d left Perdia- who was probably the only one who’d notice he was gone.
“Perdia- You’re probably thinking I’m a jerk. Well, I am. I never claimed to be anything else. But the longer I stick around, the more likely it is that I’ll stay, and no good can come of that. At least this way, I’m leaving on a high note.
If I told you or said goodbye, you’d try to stop me, to convince me not to go. I guess it says something about how much I like you that I don’t want to face that.
What I have isn’t much, but it’s yours. You’re the only one I’m going to miss with Delores dead. We were almost a family, weren’t we? I wouldn’t trade the year we had for a decade of the way I had been living.
But I still have to go. I’m just lucky that The Guild’s presence in Rosuto Doushi is minimal. The thing is, I’m wanted by the Guild. I’m not going to go into the reasons. You probably wouldn’t believe me. But what I’ve been doing is running away.
And I think it’s time that I ran back. If all goes well, I may come back- if not; I hope- nah, it’s silly for me to hope anything for you. Just be happy, Perdia. -‘Angel’
Ps: My real name is Victor. I don’t know if you ever knew it.”
Angel hoped that she wouldn’t do anything stupid, like come after him. Nah, she had no idea when he’d left- and he had no idea when she’d come by his apartment- hopefully before the ‘last month’s rent’ was up. Even still he wasn’t sure enough of himself to leave from the city station. Shouldering his pack, Angel started off down the road again. The sun slipped away, and the stars shone down on him, lighting the road up like a silver path to the future.