Okay here's the third chapter. I still don't know how many I'm planning on writing but it's nowhere near over yet, that much I can tell you. HOPEFULLY this chater will be as long and gratifying as I hope it to be...If not...I will go into masochist mode again. (God. Forbid.)
Also, there will be more action in this chapter. YAY. (Finally one worth reading. _)
Don't forget that soup fact I gave you in the first chapter...I mean it. Reviews are food. I need food to live...and write. SO REVIEW. Please and thank you. (The thank you is obviously meant for those who review, for those who don't I merely give you a thank you.)
Disclaimer: Again...I can't emphasize enough why someone would even write "DISCLAIMER" if they DID own the show. Get my point? Good. Good for you.
Warnings: Umm...More stressing Lassie, worried Juliet, drunk Henry, worried SICK Gus and well, poor poor POOR Shawn. I do hold true to my word when I say I WILL not kill him...Or put him in some year long coma. This is STILL a slash/yaoi/shounen-ai fic, although the relationship has not developed yet. (Soon, I promise.) Oh, and it hasn't been proof read yet. :D It will be, just like the others were. (And just for the record, I always proof read my chapters twice after writing them, juuust in case...Oh, and the frst two have only been read over once. So don't shoot me if you discover a typo.)
NOTE: The rating of the fic may very well change in the future, just in case. Also, you may have notice there were timestamps in the last chapter, yes, yes there were. This is just to give extra effect. (If you know what time something is happening it just makes it better, OKAY?!)
Okay, I guess that's pretty much it. Start reading and PLEASE, if you like the story so far, just take a few seconds to let me know that you do.
- - - - - - - - -
Day one of the investigation.
Henry Spencer was in a state, and it was not a good one. He had been moved to a hospital and, after several small tests, it was revealed that Henry Spencer had mixed sleep medication with alcohol, and the effects were unpleasant. All day, or at least sine he started drinking...He had felt disoriented. Extreme headaches, dizziness, all the symptoms of misery. Since sleeping pills had been the cause of this misery, he couldn't be given any more. So he would just have to sleep it off on his own...But so far, it wasn't working. At all.
He turned from side to side, never able to get comfortable. He finally accepted the fact that he wouldn't get to sleep...either that or the fact he was too tired to sleep, if that made sense...
He settled for watching the news channel. It was something he did all the time. The former officer liked to keep in touch with the world of justice and injustice. It filled part of the whole that retiring early had left in him.
Nothing interesting. A few small robberies...An attempted but failed break and entry to a bank...
The television flickered. The news channel was gone, but the screen was not blank. The small hospital TV now showed an empty room...dimly lit with flourescent lights that by rights should have been replaced a long time ago. Concrete walls and flooring...It was completely quiet. What the hell was this?
Henry sat up slowy, focusing more on the screen, still wondering where his news had gone.
His eyes slowly widened in horror.
A small but noticable pool of oozing red liquid crept across the floor slowly from the far left of the screen. He could tell all too easily what it was. Blood. The way it's curved walls expanded and thinned. The slow almost synister motion...
Suddenly a pale, bony hand holding a cell phone entered the frame. It skillfully opened the phone in one swift movement, and placed the small screen by the camera. It was a contact list.
The phone was Shawn Spencers.
The former cop was now trembling, not with anger, but with fear. So many questions...How? Who? Where? When? Why?
Henry Spencer had no answers.
- - - - - - - - -
Detective Carlton Lassiter and his partner Juliet Ohara sat at their desks, now pushed together. Both had their faces burried in papers and pictures. Neither smiled. Neither talked. Neither moved,, other than to switch to reading another paper or analyzing another picture.
Officer McNabb stood nervously in the background, only 3 meters away at most. In his hands, he held a large envelope. He wasn't smiling either...or moving. He was supposed to give this to the detectives, but he still hadn't worked up the courage to do it quite yet. He would wait for the right moment. He really hoped that moment would come soon...
...Or not. Juliet had spotted him, and was now looking at him, as if asking with her eyes what he was doing.
"What is it, officer?"
Lassiter managed to tear his eyes from a file and look over his shoulder. "McNabb, get over here. What is that?" he demanded, nodding to the envelope.
The young cop hurried over nervously, dreading the next moments of his life. "It's a lab report sir." Lassiter frowned. Well...he was already frowning, so I guess you could say he frowned more. "For what?" he asked impatiently. He didn't want any other cases. Not now. This one was hard enough as it was.
"Well, it's the forensics report from the van, sir."
Both detectives reached to grab the envelope, Juliet being the victor. She opened it hurriedly and started reading faster than she even thought she could. Lassiter didn't argue or complain, he just sat there, waiting for what Juliet had to say.
With each sentence she read her composure crumbled a bit more. Amidst all the fancy forensics talk, the basic message was clear. The blood stains in the van had belonged to Shawn Spencer. He could be dead...or half dead. Either way, wherever he was he was hurt, he was bleeding.
Lassiter, seeing her expression change, snatched the report and started reading it quickly. He too, had a noticable change in his features. On top of that, there were no fingerprints whatsoever in the van beside Shawn's. This was not good news.
"...Thanks for being prompt, McNabb."
The head detectives voice was calm, and true. He hadn't meant it sarcastically. McNabb could tell that easily enough. With a weak smile, he walked away.
"Lassiter..." Juliet started, looking more pale than she had a few minutes ago, "We have to find him. We have to get this guy. We have to or he's going to kill Sha--"
"Ohara. That's not going to hapen. No one is going to be killed by this guy. According to his previous offenses, he always keeps his victims alive for 3 days, then he finds a new one. We have time. We're going to get this guy and lock him up." 'Forever...' he finished, in thought.
Suddenly, the chief came running out of her office with a cell phone to her ear. "Lassiter! Ohara!"
Both detectives looks up at her, slightly startled.
The chief skidded to a stop, whatever she wanted, it looked urgent.
"The hospital called." she stated.
"...They have Shawn?!" Juliet asked hopefully.
The detective's hearts sank.
"The television in Henry Spencer's room was tampered with. It's getting feed from an unknown location, we're still trying to track it, but it looks like the person is an experienced hacker. Whoever it is, they have Shawn's cell phone. We can only assume they have him too." the chief finished.
Paper went flying...Empty chairs were left spinning...Followed shortly by the sound of car tires screeching as they sped off.
- - - - - - - - -
18 minutes later saw Henry Spencer's hospital room very crowded. There were police, nurses, and of course, Gus, Juliet, Lassiter and Chief Vick had come.
It was quiet in the room, with the exception of a few whispers between nurses and cops occassionally.
The screen still showed an empty, silent room. The technician team was trying their best to track it, but so far, it was to no avail.
Suddenly everyone stopped as the noticable sound of foot steps was emitted from the TV. And the sound of something being dragged.
They heard something drop on the floor. A scrawny, pale man entered the frame. He wore a smily-faced opera mask and dark clothing. Turning, he faced the screen and begin to speak, in a high pitched voice.
The small audience in the hospital watched intently, most of them in slight shock.
"My name is...well names aren't all that important are they? Oh, but I have a present for you!" he stated excitedly. He left the frame again and the dragging noise was heard again. "I found a psychic! A REAL, LIVE, PSYCHIC!" he yelled in a manic tone. His voice quicly changed. It was now deep and serious. "...I hate psychics."
He returned to the frame, throwing Shawn's limp body against the wall. The unconscious young Spencer slid to the floor quietly, hands and feet bound tightly with thick rope. The masked man faced the screen again, this time stepping aside to give the camera clear view of his "present".
"I found him last night! Lucky, LUCKY me!" he said, again sounding excited. "Do you want him? Because I don't know if I should give him to yoouuu." he said in an almost sing song voice. "Finders keepers, RIGHT?!"
Lassiter made a small growl deep in his throat. This guy had nerve. He was cocky, and if there was one thing Carlton Lassiter hated more than his father-in-law, it was a cocky smartass crook. "Have you traced it yet?" He asked quietly to a nearby officer.
Before the cop had a chance to answer, the masked man spoke again. "Traced? Oh no no no. You can't TRACE me! I'm untrackable! Where would be the fun in getting caught?"
A slight look of horror played out on everyone's face. He could hear them.
Lassiter glared at the television. "Don't you worry about that. We're going to trace you, find you, and put you behind bars for the rest of your miserable life."
The masked criminal started laughing hysterically. "YOU? Catch ME? Oh no no no, I don't think so. I don't do well in jail, you see!"
Juliet frowned angrily. "If you release Shawn now, maybe you won't have to GO to prison...Give him back to us and you're free to go."
Both the chief and head detective turned to look at her, but both quickly realized what she had meant. Obviously, they were not going to let him get away with several murders on his hands, but as long as this mental case thought they would, he might return Shawn unharmed...as unlikely as it was.
"Oh puuuleaasse. Now now blondy braids, do you expect me to believe that?! Noooooo. Jack doesn't think so!"
Jack? So this freak had named himself Jack...interesting.
Juliet made another attempt to persuade him. "As a matter of fact, we can arrange a place for you to drop him off. We'll have our friend, you'll have your freedom. Sound fair?"
"Yes, yes, yes! It does. But cops lie through their teeth using their tongues to spray deceptive fumes into people's faces! PLUS, my beloved van has been confiscated, so how am I to travel, hmmmmm?"
"So quiet. You're all boring. How about I wake your friend up?"
Everyone stiffened. Waking someone up was a simple, gentle action. But with a criminal like this who hada screw or two loose, who knew what he had in mind?
The man left the screen and returned a few seconds later with a bucket of water. "Wakey wakey, PSYCHIC." Both Juliet and Carlton had noticed there was steam rising steadily from the bucket. The water was boiling...
Without hesitation, the masked psycho dumped the steaming bucket over the unconscious Spencer's head, giggling childishly as he did it. The steaming water quickly, and rudely, awakened the boy. After his nervous system kicked in and he realized what was happening, he did the first thing that came to mind. He screamed. Screamed and screamed and screamed, biting his lip in attempt to stop himself. His body trembled slightly from the overwhelming sensation of what felt like being burned alive.
Juliet covered her mouth, gasping. She had expected this to happen, it was predictable, but seeing and hearing it for real instead of in her mind was much more painful. Lassiter looked away from the screen, trying to block out the sound as well.
Slowly, Shawn's voice dissolved into soft whimpers as the cold air in the room slowly helped get rid of the burning sensation.
The kidnapper, who had been back on to the camera, now turned around, wearing a different mask. It had a deeply exaggerated frown carved into it.
He spoke once again, this time using a voice filled with pity. "Oh gosh, now look what I've done. The water was too hot! I'm sorry Shawn-y!" Knealing next to Spencer, he started to caress his face oh so gently. "I'm sooo sorry...can you ever forgive me?" Shawn turned his head away from the man weakly, trying to resist with what little energy he had. "Oh now now now, don't be like that or I'll have to punnish you again...Oops! Did I say punnish?" he stated maniacally while laughing. "You just sit right there and relax...OH! I have an idea and it's just the greatest idea EVER! Since the water was much too hot, why don't we try something COLDER? Hmmmmm? Come on, let's go."
Shawn was dragged by his hands once again out of the camera frame.
The room was silent. Most of the people in the hospital room had seen horror movies before with sick, twisted criminals. But when the same situations were unfolding in front of your own eyes in reality...it was much more...horrid.
Juliet sat in one of the guest chairs covering her face. This lunatic was truly saneless. She couldn't bare to think about what twisted things he might come up with in teh future to do to her close friend. And what was worse was that he had been right. They had been trying to trace him for an hour, and there was just nothing. Nothing to go by. No source, no leads. No vehicle, no leads. No identity, NO LEADS. How were they supposed to solve a case with no leads? Where could they even start?
Lassiter slowly sat in the chair beside her. Something about this guy really pissed him off. He was probably bipolar, but that definitely wasn't his only mental problem. The way he had insulted the police force with such ease, his over-confident attitude, his childish, sick, twisted demeanor. How dare he? How dare he state that the police couldn't find him! How dare he openly assault a member of the SBPD! How dare he hurt Shawn and then think he had the right to touch his face that way...He didn't even deserve to speak Shawn's name...It made the head detective's blood boil. The way he just went with everything he thought of on a whim, and executed it perfectly without any hesitation. The way he had purposely left the van there while WATCHING them search hopelessly for their comrade....Wait. If he had seen them take the van, then...
"He was watching us."
Everyone looked at Lassiter, slightly caught off guard.
The chief walked to his side, looking dead serious. "What do you mean?"
Lassiter snickered and smiled slightly. The sort of smile someone has just before doing something they know they'll regret. "He was watching us when we took the van. He left it there for us to find and when we found it and searched it, he was watching us."
"But sir, the warehouse and surrounding area were checked thoroughly, no one was there." McNabb stated worriedly.
"I don't care. He was watching us the whole time. I don't know where he was or how he saw us, but he was watching us. And there's a camera in this room, he's watching us now too." Lassiter stated calmly, standing up,
The officers casually looked around the ceiling trying to spot the camera the detective was talking about. "...How do you know that?" an officer asked in a polite tone.
"He can hear us, so he can obviously see us...He knew what Juliet looked like."
It was true. The fact that Juliet was blonde was slightly obvious, but today she had put her hair in two long braids for the first time. It was true. He had seen them just as clearly as they had seen him.
Lassiter cleared his throat, somehow still keeping his calm. "I want a list of every single person who entered his hospital room since Henry Spencer was admitted. Nurses, doctors, visitors, janitors, EVERYONE." he started, walking out of the room quickly. The head nurse walked quickly along with him and Ohara jogged to catch up, followed closely by the chief. "I need records of any phone calls made to the room in the last 3 hours and serial information on any electrical devices in that room. Assuming he's not from Santa Barbra, I need a list of any missing mental patients from the surrounding states, including this one, with the name Jack."
He didn't miss a beat as he rounded 3 corners and 4 halls while talking. "Ohara, if anything of slightest suspicion comes up from those things, call me. McNabb, we're going to the warehouse where the van was abandoned."
And without another word, he was gone, McNabb obediently on his heels.
- - - - - - - - -
Weeeeell, this isn't EXACTLT where I had expected to end off, but here it is anyway. Starting to get better? More actiony and interesting anyway.
Just to let you know, I've been very sick these last couple of days. *curls up under rock and fakes death* So, obviously I haven't been up to writing, seeing as how my mind gets a little warped when I'm sick. (Last night I had a dream about a giant blue/green blob named Chulu who killed me...seriously...fevers are dangerous.)
REVIIIIIIIEEEWWWWWWWW. I'd like to thank everyone so far who has reviewed, and honestly, I was surprised to get so many positive reviews so early on. It's what helped me get through this chapter despite being sick. So keep on reviewing, good peoples. It keeps me well fed and well cared for. *feels loved*
So, that's pretty much all I have to say. I will now crash on my bed and try to recover part of my sanity.