At a nearby hospital where the newest body was taken, the coroner was already at work. Chief Roma ran his hands through his thinning hair. Detective's Blade and Angel entered the room. Blade still had his cigarette in his mouth, but once he realized he put it out on his shoe.

Coroner: Gentlemen, this one is, worse than the others. He's escalating his violence.

Chief Roma: Christ almighty, how is that possible?

Coroner: The latin etched into her skin is, well it's deeper, and less legible.

John Angel: Implying anger in his carvings. Normally he takes his time, because he believes he's done his job, and he's at peace. That's the thought process anyways.

Trevor Blade: He's a fucking psychopath. Oh, that's my professional opinion by the way.

John Angel: The Latin definitely implies that our perp is strongly religious, in a very twisted sort of way. It's a dead language, and I can't imagine he'd be a linguistics major.

Chief Roma: That's damn fine work Angel. It's a shame you're in Internal Affairs.

John Angel: I get that a lot.

Chief Roma: No, I just mean that we could use you on the streets, working cases like this. In fact, I think it's time I really get an answer about why you have such an interest in-

John Angel: We thought the purity killer might be someone inside the force.

Chief Roma: What? That's ridiculous.

John Angel: At this time, I'm willing to agree with that assessment. It is not someone in the force performing these killings.

John shot a quick glance at Blade, who didn't make eye contact, but a subtle nod implied gratitude.

John Angel: I'm willing to share my new theory. Blade, what do you remember about Father Santiago?

Blade's mind immediately shot back to the moment Father Santiago stabbed him inside of his Church.

Trevor Blade: I have a sharp recollection of the man.

John Angel: Right. As you would. You're the one who put him down. He was simply called the cop killer in the press, based on the occupation of his victims, but he believed he was doing the world a service, acting as counter balance of sorts. When his Church was investigated, they found hiding places where he kept mementos of his work. A lot of writing, and most of it in Latin, saying the very same things.

Chief Roma: That son of a bitch is in the ground.

John Angel: Indeed, but when you're that psychotic, you tend to pass those traits onto others. My new working theory is that our suspect went to that Church, knew Father Santiago well, and perhaps relied on him to keep his sanity. When the Father was taken out of the picture, our suspect lost that grounding to reality. He's continuing his work in a matter of speaking.

Trevor Blade: That makes it sound like it's my fault.

John Angel: No, not what I'm implying. It's simply a bad coincidence, and again, it's just a theory.

Chief Roma: It's the best fucking lead we've got.

Trevor Blade: Now that you mention it, that Church, it's not far from Ashley and Samantha Blair's place. Not far at all. I always thought a Church near 42nd Street was ironic. I say we go check it out.

John Angel: Yes, I'll go with you.

Chief Roma: So do we have you on loan or something Detective?

John Angel: My job was identify the purity killer. I won't stop until I do.

Chief Roma: Great. No complaints from me. Just don't get yourself fucking killed or it's my ass!

Back in the car, the wild blew threw Trevor's hair as he looked out at the passing cars.

Trevor Blade: I haven't ridden passenger since Rude Boy went down.

John Angel: You're blaming yourself for this aren't you?

Trevor Blade: Somewhat. I did the killing that inspired Santiago, but on the other hand, if he was capable of that before, then anything could have set him off eventually. I think you'll find that I can more than live with all the blood on my hands.

John Angel: You seem to almost relish in it.

Trevor Blade: You'd be surprised what happens after the shock wears off. I found some clarity. It took some time, but I found it. I'm the only one really doing anything to stop the madness.

John Angel: You really think so?

Trevor Blade: Everyday, their are over forty homicides in New York City, and enough illegal weaponry to invade a country. The most horrible atrocities carried out by man, happen right around us every fucking day, and we just pretend like we can't do something about it. They don't play by rules, and we'll never catch up if we do.

John Angel: You make it all sound quite black and white. Personally, I'm more of a shades of grey kind of person.

Trevor Blade: Which is why you're "bending" the rules right? Not "breaking" them?

John Angel: No, this is breaking the rules. Plain and simple. You've purposefully killed dozens. The Ghouls, the X'ers, Father Santiago, Half of River's Bend apparently, and probably others I've missed.

Trevor Blade: You really have been doing your homework. Yeah though, you missed some. Heh.

John Angel: Dammit, it's not funny.

Trevor Blade: "Tack", how many people do you think I killed in 'Nam? Huh? Why was it OK then? Why was I given a medal for it there? There is no difference between then and now. War is war, and I hate it, but someone has to fight it. You've ridden the subways right? How much fucking longer are we going to keep living like this? How much longer are you going to look the other way? Put more locks on your doors? Pray they never come for you? Newsflash, they did come for y-

John Angel: You can stop right there.

Trevor Blade: Shit. I'm sorry.

John Angel: No, I'm sorry I got judgemental again. I don't have the right to do that. It doesn't matter if what you do is right or wrong if I'm willing to do the same thing.

The two pulled up to the Church, but not before doing a quick pass by Ashley's place.

John Angel: You want to go check on her.

Trevor Blade: No. I want to give them some time where they don't have to think about that splayed open girl. Ashley's been through enough.

It was the middle of the night, and thus the streets were filled with the sorts that kept hidden in the light of day. A group of three were laughing and mocking the two officers as they left the car to walk up towards the Church.

John Angel: It's locked of course. Who do you think we have to call to get in there?

Trevor Blade: Smith and Wesson.

Trevor pulled out his gun, and prepared to shoot the lock off the door.

John Angel: Whoa. That's excessive don't you think?

Trevor Blade: Any better ideas?

John Angel: We could try knocking?

John gave the door a knock. The two were surprised to hear movement inside, and finally the door opened, as a young Nun stood before them.

Nun: Yes? C-can I help you?

John Angel: I'm Detective John Angel, and this is Detective Trevor Blade. Do you mind if we come in and-

Nun: Trevor Blade?

Trevor Blade: Yeah, I'm that guy.

Nun: Goodness gracious. What's going on here?

John Angel: We just need to ask some questions and take a look around. Do you mind if we come i-

Nun: You shouldn't be here. Do you have a warrant? I don't think I'm supposed to be talking to you.

Trevor Blade: I didn't mean to cause so much trouble to the Church lady. He tried killing me. It wasn't supposed to turn out like that.

Nun: S-still, I don't think-

John Angel: Sister, it's crucial to our investigation that we ask some questions and take a look around. We would really appreciate it if-

A bottle of whisky suddenly shattered over Blade's head, knocking him to the ground, as boot kicked his face into the steps. Angel turned around to get a board smashed into his face, also knocking him to the ground, as the group of three men from across the street ran into the Church cackling and trashing the holy place. A bearded black man in a cap laughed as he chased the Nun to the altar. He tore at her habit, and pushed her to the ground. She pleaded for him to stay away, as the other to men started uplifting pews and throwing anything of value into bags.

Bearded man: Bitch, we've had this place staked out for a long time. You made me wait, and that's gonna cost you something special. I ain't never had a Nun before.

He looked up at the altar, and back down to her.

Bearded man: You think your old man'll mind? How about we keep a secret between you and me huh?

He knelt down and tore her clothes away. She kicked and scratched at him, but that only seemed to make it worse. As he began to unzip his pants, he stopped when he heard a gun cock behind him at the entrance way. Blade and Angel were bloody, but back on their feet.

John Angel: Freeze! Put your hands up and-

Trevor held up his gun and walked sternly towards the bearded man. As he looked on in fear, his would be victim scurried out of the way. Trevor smashed the gun directly to his forehead and pulled the trigger.

John Angel: Whoa! Blade no! Don't-

Trevor Blade: To your right!

One of the other looters rushed Angel to take a stab at him. Angel caught the knife and deflected it, before hitting the attacker with the butt of his gun. The other attacked rushed from the left, but John had time to aim, and took him down with a shot to the shoulder. The two men quickly picked themselves off the floor and limped out of the building. Blade joined Angel in the door way, both men bleeding and breathing heavily.

John Angel: You didn't have to do that.

Trevor Blade: Oh no? Those two guys, you think they learned anything from this? If they try to pull this shit or worse on anyone else, that might just be on you man.

John Angel: That dead body, that's definitely on you.

Trevor Blade: Arrest me, or help me dump him.

John Angel: What?

Trevor Blade: I'm not doing anymore damage to this place. Last thing they need is more death and bad press.

Trevor rushed back to the body, putting gloves on on the way, and began to drag it out of the Church. John reluctantly helped, making sure to avoid prints on the body.

John Angel: You're getting blood all over the floor.

The two men dragged the body several blocks down, where they dumped it in an alleyway. Blade pulled out a flask, and poured alcohol all over the body, including the places that might have had fingerprints from the move. Then he pulled a small bag of white powder out of his pocket, and tore it over the dead body.

John Angel: What is that? What are you doing?

Trevor Blade: Drug trade gone bad. They killed him and stole his coke. That's the story if they ever even find his body.

John Angel: This is insane. This is what you do? This is violating everything we stand for.

Trevor Blade: What do you stand for Angel? Letting that Church get shut down cause we decided to come knocking at 3 in the fucking morning? That poor Nun almost got raped.

John Angel: This was justifiable homicide! I could have vouched for you on this one.

Trevor Blade: Would you have?

John Angel: I would have.

Trevor Blade: How do I know? How do I know I can trust you.

John Angel: You're still a free man. You're not in cuffs. Where did you even get that coke?

Trevor Blade: Bad habits.

John Angel: What the hell did that war do to you?

Trevor Blade: It wasn't the war out there. It was the one right here. Now, I think you and I have a witness to talk to.

John Angel: This just got a lot more complicated.

The two men returned to the Church to find the Nun wiping away tears, with a sweater on in place of her torn habit, as she tried to pick the place up.

John Angel: Sister, let me help you with-

Nun: I'm sorry.

John Angel: What?

Nun: Detective Blade. I'm so sorry.

Trevor Blade: What are you talking about Sister-

Nun: Sister Mary Helena. I should have let you in sooner. I'm the cause of this.

Trevor Blade: No way lady. You didn't do a damn thing. Dry your eyes. You're safe now.

Sister Mary Helena: This neighborhood is so dangerous. You can't even open the door at night anymore.

Trevor Blade: It shouldn't be that way. We're trying to make it a little safer, but we're going to need you to talk and be silent at the same time, if you catch my drift.

Sister Mary Helena: The Father, the one who took over for Santiago, says that confessions are private matter, between a man and God. I think this is where that falls into place. Whatever you need, you can have it.

Trevor Blade: Thank you.

John Angel: We need anything the police didn't find on their sweep, if you catch what I'm saying. Some black sheep in the flock-

Trevor Blade: That might need culling.

Sister Mary Helena: Oh my! That's, also a matter of secrecy. However, if I walked out of the room, and you happened to go into the office of Father Ruiz, then what you find would remain unknown to me. I need to- I need to get some cleaning supplies for this mess. Excuse me.

John Angel: How did we pull that off so easily?

Trevor Blade: How do you think I've been able to hide in plain sight for so long? People want help. They're seeking justice. If they know someone is out here for them, you'll be surprised at how much they don't see.

John Angel: I just can't wrap my head around it. We all claim to be good, law abiding citizens, but we're just as bad as they are in the end.

Trevor Blade: Laws don't protect the good people. Laws exist these days to keep the shit bags on the streets, alive, pushing dope, and selling ass. Raping, torturing, and killing. It's all on the menu, and they have carte blanche. They walked right into my house, and killed my wife. They left my best friend paralyzed, and I had to kill him. That's right, you can add that one to your statistics. I did that too. I know that it's not normal to want to kill, but I'm no longer normal man. I'm not. I haven't been for a long time. I could've put a bullet in my head a long time ago, but I do this instead.

John brushed the hair out of his face, sighed, and wiped the blood from his nose.

John Angel: I believe we we should be heading to Father Ruiz's office while we have the window.

Trevor Blade: Good idea "partner", unless you want to keep going around with-

John Angel: No. We're going to do what we have to do when we have to do it. I'll adjust. Let's go.

Trevor Blade: Good attitude. You're already sneaking into a priest's office.

John Angel: After what you just did, don't judge me.

Trevor Blade: Who is judging. It was a joke.

John Angel: You still have blood on you.

Trevor Blade: To be fair, some of it is mine.

John Angel: This may have been a mistake.

The next day, Ashley Blair made her usual walk to St. Helen's to pick up Samantha, but she couldn't shake the feeling she was being watched. A car drove by a little too closely, and startled her for a moment, but she quickly took a deep breath and kept walking. Unknown to her, she was being watched, as the figure slowly drew closer. Ashley looked through the gates, but couldn't find Samantha. She checked her watch and decided to go inside, as the figure had just enough time to touch her hair with out her knowing. Samantha meanwhile was sitting in the gymnasium. She had been drawing pictures of the players shooting hoops, and lost track of time. An unseemly kid in a leather jacket and wild hair sat down beside her, and looked at her sketch book.

Wild haired guy: Hey there, what 'cha drawin'? Can I see? Wow, it looks good!

Samantha quickly backed away.

Wild haired guy: Whoa! Whoa! Didn't mean to scare ya. The name's Vinnie. What's your name? Cat got your tongue?

Samantha tried to sign that she was deaf to a puzzled Vinnie.

Vinnie: Oh shit, you can't hear can ya? Shit. My bad. I feel like a dick now. I just wanted to say hey. You know how pretty you are? You really are. You're a good artist too. That's great stuff.

Samantha blushed, not used to be showered with compliments from anyone but her sister. Hey sat down next to her, and she allowed it this time.

Vinnie: You uh, know that sign language stuff? I never seen that before.

Samantha nodded, and signed to him that it was very nice to meet him. She wanted him to sign back.
 
Vinnie: Huh? Oh no, I have no idea what I'm doing with my hands half the time, but I definitely can't do that. I can do this though.

Vinnie used one finger to stick through a hole made by the fingers on his other hand, which made Samantha roll her eyes and smile.

Vinnie: Eh? You like that huh? That's the only sign that matters to me.

Two other young guys were watching from the doorway and laughing.

Vinnie: Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself though. How about kissing? You ever kissed a guy before?

Samantha wrote on her sketch pad and showed it to Vinnie.

Vinnie: Your father huh? Where's he at?

She wrote again.

Vinnie: Dead? Shit, that's too bad. Your old man doesn't count though. You got to have a real kiss. He's dead, and I'm alive and twitching, so how about you and I have a crack at it huh?

Samantha cringed up and pulled away, but Vinnie put his hand behind her head, and slowed pushed her back into him. She fought him off and tried to run away, but she ran into the two guys blocking the door way.

Vinnie: Fargo! Stevie! Bring that bitch back over here! I'm going to show her a few things she can sketch about later!

Stevie: Dude, we got to get the fuck out of here. We're not even supposed to be here.

Vinnie: When has that ever stopped us? Good little Catholic boys and girls need a little something to get through the day, and I'll be damned if we don't make a mint pushing this dope on these dopes, but right now I want something other than money.

A figure watched from behind the bleachers, as Fargo and Stevie held Samantha to the ground. She struggled to no avail. The weight of the boys, and her inability to scream left her helpless as Vinnie tried to get on top of her.

Vinnie: You'll love it, or at least I will. Do you have sign language for the phrase "fuck me" or "don't stop", because you'll be needing them before I'm-

Vinnie was suddenly kicked hard in the head. The watching figure backed away as Ashley kicked Vinnie in the face again. Fargo tried to produce a switchblade to stab Ashley, but Samantha grabbed him by the leg, and held him long enough for Ashley to turn around and hit him a with a nose shattering punch to the face. She grabbed Stevie by the collar of his jacket and pushed him against the wall. She laid into him repeatedly, until he managed to push her off and run for it, along with the other guys. Ashley turned to help her sister up, and clutched the crying girl close, as the figure followed the three men.

Vinnie: Who the fuck was that? I think she broke my jaw man.

Fargo: Your jaw? I know she broke my fucking nose! It's killing me!

Stevie: What do we do? What do we do man?

Vinnie: She stopped me in the middle of something, and I hate that. I say we go back in there, and show her a good time too if you get what I'm saying.

Fargo: She kicked our asses Vinnie!

Vinnie: Don't you fucking worry about it. We'll bust her open more way than one, cause that's what happens when you fuck with-

The figure suddenly rushed behind Vinnie and slit his throat with a scalpel. Fargo fell backwards against the brick alley wall, while a panicking Stevie ran off. The figure screamed at them for sullying her purity. Fargo begged for mercy, only to be repeatedly stabbed in the chest, until he fell silent, his blood splattered all over the walls, the ground, and his killer.

Last edited by Machismo (5/19/2022 12:57 pm)

Trevor Blade and Ashley Blair were in the middle of a walk in the park. Ashley normally felt unsafe in this park, especially at night. She could handle herself in a fight, but she felt much safer with Detective Blade along side her. Still, she was in shock trying to process what she had just learned about her would be protector.

Ashley Blair: So, you knew my Father, no not just knew, you served with him? You fought in Vietnam with my Dad?

Trevor Blade: I did.

Ashley Blair: That seems like something you should mention when you're fucking his daughter, and planning to kill a killer don't you think?

Trevor Blair: I didn't want to keep it a secret, but I didn't really know how to approach it.

Ashley Blair: It's incredibly simple. You're a Detective, you should know how to talk to people. "Oh, I'm so sorry for what happened to your friend Ms. Blair, and by the way, I served with your Dad in Vietnam!" See? See how easy that is? This gets more fucked up by the second. Those bastards tried to rape my sister! That killer is watching us! This of all things I'm having the most trouble wrapping my head around, because you're someone I thought I could trust! I don't even know why I thought that! I barely even know you! Good God, I barely know you, and I went to bed with you! What's wrong with m-

Trevor Blade: I wasn't just serving under Father. He didn't just lead me. He saved my life.

Ashley Blair: What?

Trevor Blade: I was a POW, and it wasn't looking good. My superiors had no idea I was even there. Not me or Rude Boy. They didn't know. Your Father went in anyways. He knew the place was about to get blown apart by napalm, but he didn't give a shit. He received intel that we were being held in that location, and he wanted to make damn sure he wasn't leaving a single man behind. He was a war hero. A real one. The rest of us, we got spit on and called murderers. Maybe they were right about me. Not him though. He was a hero. When I found out who you were, it took me back to that time and place that I keep trying to bury. It's hard, it's so hard. It haunts me nightly.

Ashley stopped Trevor and sat him down on the park bench, as his hands started shaking.

Trevor Blade: Something Rude Boy didn't even know about, was what they were planning to do to us. He was passed out from exhaustion, and I picked up a little Vietnamese. Not much, but enough to get the jist of it. They were going to throw us a gun with one bullet, and let the last man alive go free. I was planning on eating that bullet. He would've thought the same thing. Your Dad came just in time. I dropped the gun in the water, and never told anyone about it.

Ashley Blair: That sounds horrible.

Trevor Blade: A part of my decision to join the Police after the war was a sense of duty and loyalty to your Father. I felt like I had to make his actions worth it. This is something we could have discussed after we caught this guy. That's what I was thinking. I didn't think I'd start feeling this way about you.

Ashley Blair: What way?

Trevor Blade: I think you can guess.

Ashley Blair: I'm not special Blade. I'm just a girl with a lot of problems.

Trevor Blade: No, you're very much your Father's daughter. All you think about is how you can help your sister. It's inspiring. I don't want to see anything happen to either of you.

The two sat in silence for several moments. Ashley looked to see Blade's hands were still shaking, and he had a faraway gaze in his eyes. A thousand yard stare, and she was beginning to understand what that meant. She had seen him as a unrelenting force of nature, but now, he was vulnerable.

Ashley Blair: Blade, this whole thing has been a complete mess, but I'm glad that it gave me the chance to meet you. You've let me in on your secrets, and I appreciate that, but am I really worth you putting yourself in this posi-

Trevor leaned in and kissed her tenderly, she immediately stopped her train of thought.

Trevor Blade: Yes. You're very much worth it Ashley.

The two kissed again. They sat and talked before Ashley finally walked left for home, feeling confident enough to walk home on her own, especially after Trevor had passed her a knife, with instructions on exactly where to stab. Blade smiled to himself as he sat on the bench. He felt a sense of happiness, which was odd given the circumstances, he was willing to take anything he could get now. He was about to light a cigarette, when he suddenly heard screaming from a woman. It wasn't Ashley, it was coming from deeper inside the park. He pulled out his gun and ran in the direction of the screams. He found two punks trying to rape a young woman. The happy feeling inside of him suddenly disappeared, and the sound seemed to leave the world again, leaving the soldier with his rage. He rushed out of the woods and fired the gun into air, making both men back off from the young woman who quickly ran away. The two punks held up their hands.

Punk: What the fuck bro? What are your doing?

Trevor Blade: You just had to pull this shit here and now huh? You just had to be scumbags. The worst fucking scum on this Earth. What the fuck!

Punk: Whoa dude, just calm dow-

Trevor shot the man in the leg. The other punk tried to run away, but Trevor shot him in the back of the head as he turned to run. The surviving punk backed up against a tree in panic.

Punk: Hey! No! No man! Don't do it!

Trevor Blade: Fuckers are never going to learn are you? Heh. Fuck it.

Trevor shot the man directly in the genitals. He screamed out in agony.

Trevor Blade: Enjoy being dickless in hell your rapist motherfu-

The last part of Trevor's rage was cut off by the sound of the gun as he shot the punk in the head. His blood splattered across his face. The heat, the anger, and blood took over, as Trevor walked off, wiping the prints off his gun before tossing it into a nearby sewer grate. It'd be hours before they were found.

Ashley was doing push ups in her room. When she wasn't doing push ups, she was sharpening the knife she got from her Father's personal effects from 'Nam. When she wasn't doing that, she was pacing back and forth. A bundle of nerves, the image of her dead friend still running though her mind. As the radio played, the right kind of music was getting her blood pumping. She thought about going outside and walking around until he showed himself. She wanted him to come after her. She wanted to face him, but was worried that he was far more interested in Samantha. The next day, would be her school play. Mom couldn't be there like usual, and they both understood that, but Samantha needed her there, so she sat down, indignant of the whole situation and cracked open a beer. She thought about calling up Blade. She hadn't seen him in days, but she knew he was around. She wanted to be bait, and apparently he had been counting on that. It would sound cold as hell if she didn't know he hadn't slept in days keeping an eye on her. In fact, as she got back up, she looked out the window and down the block. His car was there. The lights were off, but he was in there. She could see the end of his cigarette light up every few minutes.

Trevor turned down his CB radio. He didn't want to hear about any of the crimes he could be out trying to prevent. This was the one he needed to prevent. Ashley was younger, but she reminded him of her, his wife Laura. They were both head strong and blunt, and that is what drew him to them both. He was having trouble staying awake, and rifled through his glove box, looking for change to get some coffee, when he saw the little bag of white powder. He paused as he looked at it, and his pulse quickly raced. He'd been mostly clean since coming back from up state. Mostly, he said to himself.

Trevor Blade: Fuck. What would it hurt? I need to be awake and-

A bang outside of the car made him jump and reach for his gun, but he quickly put it down when he saw it was Ashley, banging on the hood. She laughed, even knowing what he was reaching for.

Trevor Blade: You're either fearless or crazy.

Ashley Blair: I'm a little bit of both. You're either a damn good protector or crazy yourself.

Trevor Blade: I'd say it's more of the latter, but I'm trying on the former.

Ashley Blair: Maybe he's not going to come after us anymore.

Trevor Blade: I doubt that. No fresh murders since this started, except the ones revolving your attackers. He's close. He's damn close.

Ashley Blair: Well maybe you should be closer?

Trevor Blade: What?

Ashley Blair: My Mom isn't home tonight.

Trevor Blade: Heh. You make it sound like we're a couple of kids fooling around.

Ashley Blair: You're still allowed to crack a smile and drop your guard every now and then you know?

Trevor Blade: The moment I do, I get the knife in the back.

Ashley Blair: Not if I'm watching it.

Trevor Blade: That's my job.

Ashley Blair: You look out for me. Who says I can't look out for you too?

Trevor Blade: You're full of surprises Miss Blair.

Ashley Blair: Ick, don't call me that.

Trevor Blade: You got anything to drink up there?

Ashley Blair: Um yeah, I got beer?

Trevor Blade: How about coffee? I've been drinking this New Coke shit. It's ain't thrilling me.

Ashley Blair: I know how to keep you awake officer. Then, maybe you can get some sleep, if I'm satisfied.

Trevor Blade: Full of surprises. Where do you see this going?

Ashley Blair: My bed?

Trevor Blade: I meant after all of this. Do you see a future here?

Ashley Blair: Here? No. No, I don't see a future here. I see one wherever you're going though. Anywhere you want to go, I'll go there too.

Trevor Blade: Want to know where I want to go?

Ashley Blair: Where is that?

Trevor Blade: Your bed. I'll even try to stay awake a while.

Ashley Blair: You damn well better.

Hours later, Blade woke up in Ashley's bed. How long had he actually slept? It was still dark outside. It was the most he'd slept in days. He looked over to see her peacefully sleeping. A life full of nothing but shit and problems, and she could still sleep like a baby. He wanted to find out her secret. He traced up her arm to her shoulder with his finger, when calm and peaceful quiet was suddenly interrupted by the loud phone ringing beside the bed.

Trevor Blade: Fuck!

Ashley Blair: Ugh. Will you pick that up. It's probably Mom checking in.

Trevor Blade: That makes it less of a good idea for me to pick it up.

Ashley Blair: She's got us figured out already. Besides, she'll feel better knowing you're here.

Trevor Blade: Fine. Why not?

Trevor grabbed up the old rotary phone and answered awkwardly.

Trevor Blade: Um. Yeah? Hello?

A man was breathing deeply on the other end of the phone.

Trevor Blade: Hello?

Man: You were with her. Did you enjoy her?

Trevor Blade: Who the fuck is this?

Ashley Blair: Blade?

Man: Heh. You can't have the other one. She's mine. You can have that one, do with her what you will, but her sister belongs to me.

Trevor Blade: Like hell she does you piece of shit. Where the fuck are you?

Man: Not far. I've never been far from you. I knew who you were before you even took my case. Santiago, he enlightened me. Detective Angel's files confirmed it to me. We're the same. I wanted you to take this case Officer Blade. I wanted you to see it. I wanted you to see it all in its glory. You can understand the purity like I do. I capture them at their most pure, and I make sure they stay that way. She's so pure. So gentle. So angelic. She's mine.

Trevor Blade: I'm going to fucking kill you. You hear me? I'm gong to fucking kill you!

The man laughed and hung the phone up on the other end.

Ashley Blair: Was it him?

Trevor Blade: Yeah. Damn right it was.

John Tack was at home himself. He checked the fridge to find it empty, except for an old box of Chinese food. He grabbed the box, opened it up, and took a whiff before quickly discarding it. He checked his coffee maker, and used an old filter to make a terrible cup of coffee. He looked at the picture on his table. John with a younger girl, posing in central park.

John Angel: Sarah, I'm so sorry kid. I'm gonna find this guy, I promise. I'm going to catch him, and I'm going to kill him. I know that's not going to bring you back, but it'll make sure no one else ends up like you.

He looked at his watch, and saw that Samantha Blair's play was starting soon. He fixed his tie and went to get himself cleaned up, but as he walked by his kitchen table, he knocked over the files regarding Father Santiago. As he bent down to pick them up, he looked at a specific page, one that he had glanced over before, after one of his "flock" getting a job. It seemed like nothing at the time, but something had been bothering him since the first time he read it. The journal entries were very personal, because the journal was all the scrawling of a mad man making a manifesto, but something about this entry was too clean, and too proper, as if he was trying to hide something. If he got caught, and his possessions came into police custody, he wouldn't want this one in particular to be caught. That was the mindset Angel had. That was what his intuition was telling him. He flipped back to another page and read it out loud to himself.

John Angel: "This one is special. This one sees the work I am doing, and finds it as beautiful as I do. I try to protect the pure, and balance the scales. What he plans to do, will be a work of art. He needs help. His facial disfigurement makes it hard for him to find work, but with my connections, I intend to get him employment, and a vantage point from which to pursue the Lord's work." Facial disfigurement. Then he says later that one of the members of his Parrish got a job, and that he was happy about it naturally. He has connections. Where would a Priest have connections? Local community centers? Soup kitchens? Wait a minute. What about a school? St. Helen's? I've been there, I didn't see anybody that fit with the evidence, then again, the evidence fit Blade, but not the description. So let's work it in reverse. Who fits the description? Two weeks ago, Blade told me that Ashley had found out about his connection to her Father. She found out because of a janitor. A janitor with a cleft lip and- Oh no.

John tried to call Blade's apartment, to no avail. He thought to quickly call the police station. Blade was there, but he was on his way out, after having an argument with the Chief.

Chief Roma: Fuck Blade, you know we're short staffed as it is!

Trevor Blade: I'm telling you Chief, this fucker is going after her specifically! He knew I was there! He's got them staked out! All I'm asking is for one fucking car to stake out the house while I'm at the school! Is that too fucking much to ask?

Chief Roma: Alright! Alright! Fine! I'll do it.

Trevor Blade: I have to go. I have to get to the school.

Chief Roma: Blade, you're getting way too close to this one.

Trevor Blade: If you try to pull me off this case I'll-

Chief Roma: Relax! Who the hell would I replace you with? Short staffed remember?

Trevor Blade: Heh. Put a broom in my place, you'd get the same fucking results Chief. I got to go.

Chief Roma: Hey wait, I think I heard your phone ringing! Blade? Aw, the hell with it. Someone get out there to the Blair girl's apartment, and I mean right now!

Blade lit up a smoke on his ride to the school. He told Ashley and Samantha he'd be there. He wanted to be there to keep an eye out, but he'd also admittedly grown too fond of them to the point he would've shown up regardless. He laughed to him as he drove.

Trevor Blade: Aw dammit Blade, you've gone and done it again.

As he made his way into the building, the play was just beginning. He stood by the door, but quickly saw Samantha on stage, dancing gracefully. He turned his gaze to the side of the stage, and saw the other dancers taking in her talent. Further back he saw teachers and the janitor he had seen before watching on as well. He glanced over to see Ashley in the seats. He looked at her and felt a long lost feeling, something he hadn't felt in a long time. Sitting next to her was Darlene Blair. She had actually made the time to come for the play, which had to be difficult. She was probably running on less sleep than he was. The crowd stood and applauded as Samantha's portion came to a close. Blade joined in the clapping, but Samantha had to be turned around to see everyone cheering for her. The young girl blushed and brushed by her fellow dancers and the janitor as she walked to the back. Blade's gaze turned back to the janitor. He knew what a concealed firearm looked like, and the spotlight shining over head gave him a good look at it. He wanted to ask him about it, but was suddenly stopped by Ashley.

Ashley Blair: There you are! Did you see? Wasn't she great?

Trevor Blade: Absolutely fantastic. Yes she was.

Ashley Blair: I was just about to go tell her as much. You want to come with me?

Trevor Blade: Yeah. Yeah, I think I'll do that.

John Angel was driving as quickly as he could through the streets, trying to get to St. Helen's before it was too late.

John Angel: The janitor! The janitor! The damn janitor! Right in front of us! Dammit Blade, hang on I'm coming!

Trevor and Ashley made their way through the other dancers waiting for their scenes as, as they found the room marked off for the dancers. Blade looked around, but was unable to see the janitor anywhere.

Trevor Blade: Hey Ashley, I've been meaning to ask you something, now that I'm thinking about it. That picture, of me and your Dad that you found here. Who gave it to you?

Ashley Blair: Hm? That was Frank. He's the janitor here.

Trevor Blade: He was showing you that picture before those guys got killed?

Ashley Blair: No. Right before I think.

Trevor Blade: Did you see him after?

Ashley Blair: No? Why are you asking for?

Trevor Blade: I just have a hunch I'm going on right now.

Blade drew his gun, but kept it low and out of sight, as he they opened the door to see a giddy Samantha waiting on Ashley. The two sisters hugged, as Trevor breathed a sigh of relief. Ashley signed to her sister as she spoke.

Ashley Blair: I am so proud of you! You did great kid. Mom loved it too. Yeah, she's here. I'll go get her. Trevor, will you wait here?

Trevor Blade: Absolutely.

Ashley Blair: Thank you.

Ashley walked off as Trevor stepped into the room. Samantha smiled as he came in, but her smile turned to horror as she looked behind him. Out of a rack of costumes, Frank the janitor emerged, with a knife in his hand, and a demented look on his face. Blade saw the look on her face, draw his gun, and quickly turned around, but Frank stabbed him in the side, and held his gun up in the air.

Frank: Shh. You're in shock now, and I don't want you to feel any pain. In a moment, you'll begin to feel light headed, and then drowsy. See? I know all about these things, but because of the cleft lip, no one wanted to hire me. I've got the experience though. I learned, just like you, killing in Vietnam.

Blade fell to the floor, trying to catch his breath, as Frank kicked the gun away, before pulling out his own. He pointed it at Samantha, and stepped towards her, making sure she saw him. She tried to close her eyes, but Frank grabbed her by the neck and her eyes bolted open.

Frank: You're coming with me right now, and we're going to go quietly, or I will kill you and I will kill him, and I will kill everyone you love, because they are standing in the way of you becoming my greatest masterpiece. Come with me now.

Samantha looked over and saw Blade trying to climb back to his feet. Franky saw this and kicked him in the ribs, towards the wall and further away from his gun.

Frank: Just bleed out peacefully Blade. I watch the life leave the eyes of those I kill. It's like slipping into a warm bath is it not? Just let go. She's mine.

Frank turned back to Samantha and grabbed her again.

Frank: Look at me. We're going out that door. To the parking lot, and we're doing it right now. Let's go.

Frank took Samantha by the arm, and the two began to walk, when suddenly, the sprinkler system kicked in, and the fire alarm began to ring. Frank looked behind him to see Blade had pulled the alarm on the wall. Blood coated the wall as he fell against it laughing.

Frank: I wanted to make it easy on you, but you've just fucked u-

The door to the dressing room was kicked open suddenly, as John Angel burst in with is gun drawn. He fired and hit Frank in the shoulder. Frank fell against the wall, but as John tried to help up Blade, Frank got him back with a shot in the leg, and quickly scrambled to his feet to run off with Samantha.




Trevor Blade: He's-he's getting away!

John Angel: Tell me about it!

Trevor Blade: Help me up! Go after him, I'll try to cut him off!

John Angel: You sure you're not going to die?

Trevor Blade: Not yet.

Blade and Angel scattered as Frank dragged Samantha through the back, laughing and waving around his gun as people tried to leave the building after the fire alarm and especially after the gun shots. John was slow to follow, grimacing as he tried to put weight on his leg. Blade grabbed up his gun and went straight through the seating that was now cleared. He looked for Ashley in the process, but could only see a crying and screaming Darlene pointing him out of the door. Frank had made it to his car, which was not the Camero he'd been looking for. He saw Angel get into his car to leave, but couldn't make it in time as he collapsed down the steps. Hearing the screaming around him, he drifted off to the sounds of screams in Vietnam, and the sounds of his wife screaming before she was killed. The sound disappeared around him, the pain left him, and the killer instinct returned. He forced himself back to his feet and got into his car to pursue. Frank had a head start, and laughed as Samantha tried to fight him off in the passenger seat.

Frank: Haha! I've got you now! You're not going anywhere! Haha! Oh look out! I'm gonna swerve! Hold on tight! Haha!

Little did Frank, that as he looked back in his rear view to see the two cars in the distance, that he'd look down into the back passenger seat and see Ashley Blair, laying in wait.

Frank: What the fu-

Ashley Blair: Let go of my sister!

Ashley reached over the seats and clawed Frank in the face, tearing at his flesh as he swerved in the car. Ashley tried to punch him repeatedly, but he pushed her back and corrected himself on the road, nearly missing an oncoming car. As Ashley reached for him again, Frank hit her with the butt of his gun. She fell back against the seats, and dodged as Frank shot at her. Ashley covered her ears from the loud sound of the gun, but Samantha didn't have that problem and grabbed his hand, biting it until the gun fell to the floor. He slapped her, and panicked.

Frank: No! No! You need to be perfect! Fuck!

Frank managed to get to his apartment complex, and got out of the car. He went over to Samantha's side and grabbed her before she could run off. Ashley crawled out of the back seat and forced herself to her feet. She jumped onto Frank's back, but he flipped her over him and smashed her through his windshield. A passerby approached to check on the situation, only to be shot in the process. Frank looked down the road to see the cars off in the distance and quickly rushed into his building with Samantha being dragged behind. John made it to he building, and analyzed the situation. A Camero was parked across the street, no doubt the vehicle he had been using while on the prowl. This was the place. As he got out of his car, he saw Ashley in the windshield of the other car. He went to check her pulse, but the bloody Ashley told him to go upstairs and save Samantha. He checked that the barrel of his gun was loaded and made his way into the building. He motioned for the tenants to go inside, as they cautiously looked out their doors, and pointed for him to go upwards. On the other side of the building, Trevor had pulled up, and grit his teeth as he exited the vehicle and limped his ways towards the fire escape. Back inside, John Angel was outside of Frank's door. It had to be his. The scuff marks from Samantha lead him here.

John Angel: I'm coming in you son of a bitch! Put your hands up and-

Gunfire ripped through the door. John felt something hot pass through his side, as he fell backwards against he old wooden railing of the staircase. It gave way, but he pushed himself off of it just in time and kicked open the door. Inside the walls were lined with photos and trophies of his victims. John peered into the bed room to find Samantha cuffed to the bed. She motioned for him to turn around, but instead he flung his head back, smashed Frank in the nose, and forcing him to drop his gun. John tried to turn now, but as he brought up his gun, Frank knocked it out of his hand and pushed him to the ground. Frank leaped high to land on John’s chest with both feet and pulled a knife out now. He never looked up at the thin screaming from the bed. He pinned Angel down with his knees, raised the knife high and grunted as he brought it down. The blade missed John’s eye and crunched deep into his cheek. Frank rocked forward and put his weight on the handle of the knife to shove it through John’s head. John screamed as Frank worked the blade in deeper and deeper. Suddenly, a crash of glass. Trevor Blade jumped through the window and tackled Frank off of John, saving his life with seconds to spare. Frank quickly ran into the other room, as Blade checked on John and then Samantha. He told her to look away as he fired into his handcuffs, freeing her from the old brass bed frame. He motioned for her to look at him.

Trevor Blade: You need to go downstairs now. Get someone to call the police. Anyone.

She nodded and quickly ran away. Blade pulled out his gun and followed Frank's trail to what looked like an opening in the ceiling. It was a pull down staircase to the attic of the building. He grit his teeth again as he forced himself up the steps, into the cold, dusty, and cobweb filled attic. Rats crawled along the framing, and their sounds and the lack of light made it impossible for Trevor see in front of him. He could tell by the wind draft that the room was big, but other than that, he only knew that he wasn't alone up there.

Trevor Blade: Frank is it? You like killing little girls huh? Come on out, and try someone more your size. I said come on!

Frank: No way Blade. I didn't want to kill you. I wanted you to see my art.

Trevor Blade: It ain't art Frank, and I sure as fuck want to kill yo-

Blade ducked at just the right second, as a bullet whizzed by him.

Trevor Blade: You grabbed up John's revolver? He shot you once, and you tried shooting him then. You've got four bullets left. Just you, me, and four fucking bullets Frank. Want to hear how you're going to die?

Frank: Yeah!

Blade stayed hidden behind the crate he'd found in the darkness. A bullet whizzed by, nearly grazing him once again. He had to get Frank to use up his ammo. He had to get that gun out of play.

Trevor Blade: What's a matter Frank? Afraid of the dark? You should be. Not because of the dark, but because I'm in it. Death is in the dark with you Frank. You've had this coming for a long time.

Frank: Shut up! I have so much work left to do, and you're not going to stop me!

Blade threw an object across the room, and it made Frank shoot in its direction.

Trevor Blade: That wasn't me Frank, and that's two bullets left. Two bullets, and then I'm coming for you. You feel that? It's fear. The same fear you put into those poor girls. Purity Killer? You're just another sick fuck that gets off on cutting people open. Your work is shit Frank.

Frank finally homed in on Blade's location from the talking, but as he got there, he felt around to find he had moved.

Trevor Blade: Close Frank. Oh so close. Want to know how long it's going to take for me to kill you? I'll give you a hint. Think in days.

Frank: Come on Blade, let me hear ya talk some more!

Trevor Blade: That's right, you're getting closer. Come on over Frank. I'm right here!

Trevor suddenly raising his voice got to Frank, and he fired into the darkness. He hit himself with the gun, mad at his stupid mistake.

Trevor Blade: One bullet left. Even if you hit me, I'm still going to get you Frank. I'm still going to get you.

Frank: You think I'm scared of death Blade. I welcome it! I want it! I need it! I just need to finish my work before I go.

Trevor Blade: It's not going to happen.

Frank: It is! I'm in control!

Trevor Blade: Do you feel in control right now? It's over Frank. You're done. You're done!

Frank turned to the yelling, but didn't fire this time. He laughed as he had thought he had Blade figured out, but Blade jumped out of the shadows behind him, and forced the gun to fire. He punched Frank repeatedly, and shoved a thumb in his right eye, angrily gouging at it. Frank screamed threw the eye to the side, and pulled out his own gun. Frank crawled to his knees and put his forehead to the gun, smiling through the blood, several teeth knocked out, oozing down his face with the blood and saliva. John Angel appeared behind him.

John Angel: Do it.

Trevor Blade: Is that what you want Angel? What you really want?

John Angel: He killed my sister! Sarah! Do you even know who she is?

Frank: One of many. I lost count. Haha!

John Angel: Kill him! That's what this was all about!

Trevor Blade: Yeah, and that's why you worked with me. My hands are dirty. They're so dirty. The blood is never coming off. But you, your hands are still clean, clean enough anyways. This sick fuck wants to die John. He wants to. It would be a shame if he had to spend his life locked up instead wouldn't it?

John Angel: Yeah. Yeah that's a good point.

Frank: No. No! You're a killer! I'm a killer! I deserve to die. Pull the trigger! Do it!

Trevor Blade: Yeah, that's right, I'm a killer. You do deserve to die, but now that I think about it, it's too easy. For once, you live, and I kill something else. Your hope for release.

Frank: I'll tell them! I'll tell them who you are! I'll tell everyone who you are!

Trevor Blade: Then so be it. Maybe it's time to-

John Angel: No. It won't matter. I'll vouch for you. Trevor Blade is a fine, upstanding Detective. In fact, I found a few more kills that I believe I can pin to the Purity Killer.

Frank: No. No! No!

The days following the capture of the Purity Killer were a circus for all involved. Another medal for Blade, and one for Angel, the two of them gracing the cover of newspapers, they were dubbed the "Bad Dudes" by the press, though Angel had a presumption that the moniker came from Trevor Blade. Blade had learned to trust someone in Angel, and it paid off, as Angel did what he said he would, and allowed Blade to walk free and clear of his crimes. Blade assumed that after the adrenaline and rage died down, that Angel was thanful to Blade for stopping him from being complicit in a murder. The Blair sisters both survived, with Ashley having to get stitches from her ordeal, but it was price she gladly paid. The days started to warm up, and the city didn't feel as cold anymore, on the day Trevor Blade pulled up to the apartment of the Blair Family. Ashley was already waiting outside, kissing and hugging her mother and sister goodbye.

Ashley Blair: Mom, are you sure you're going to be all right without me?

Darlene Blair: Yes dear, we're both going to be fine. I relied on you to raise your sister for too long, and I nearly lost both of you. It's time I figure things out for myself, and be a better mother. Samantha needs me, and I need her, but we both need you to finally go live your life, and you have a fine man there that wants to help you live it.

Trevor Blade: That's the plan Mrs. Blair.

Darlene Blair: I think you can call me Darlene by now, or Mom if you'd like.

Ashley Blair: Mom!

Darlene Blair: Just thinking ahead.

Samantha ran up to Trevor as he got out of the car to grab Ashley's bags. She gave him a big hug, and spoke to him for the first time.

Samantha Blair: Th-thank you. F-for everything.

Trevor Blade: I'm just glad you're all right. It was my honor.

They said their goodbyes quickly, to try and rip off the bandage as quickly as possible. Blade kissed her on the forehead as she got into the car. They put the top down and drove off as the sun rose over the buildings. As they drove, Blade saw flashing lights in his rear view. Both confused, they pulled over, only to see that it was John Angel pulling them over.

Trevor Blade: Oh, I knew it. He's come to arrest me.

John Angel: Hardly. Didn't think you could leave town without saying goodbye did you?

Trevor Blade: I'm sure I'll see you again. You know first hand what kind of Cop I am.

John Angel: Better than I expected, as it turns out. Still doesn't mean you're not trouble.

Trevor Blade: Well don't worry, we're taking a long vacation. Still not even sure where we're going.

Ashley Blair: Florida.

Trevor Blade: Florida. We're apparently going to Florida. Don't know when I'm coming back.

John Angel: Could be an opportunity for a fresh start?

Trevor Blade: Oh no. Make no mistake about it Angel. I will be back.

John Angel: Well in that case, don't be a stranger for too long alright? I hear the President's coming into town soon.

Trevor Blade: Heh. "Exciting".




The two shook hands, not as enemies or rivals, but as friends. Blade jumped back into his car and shared a long kiss with Ashley and shrugged, mouthing "Florida?" She laughed as they drove off over the bridge and towards the sunrise.

Last edited by Machismo (11/15/2022 2:20 am)

Chapter 4: Calm Before the Storm

The night had settled into a heavy silence as Trevor Blade returned to the Steel Justice. The tension from the earlier confrontation still buzzed in his veins, but the moment he stepped aboard, the familiar scent of saltwater and the soft creak of the boat welcomed him back. It was a stark contrast to the chaos he’d just left behind.

As he entered the cabin, the low light illuminated the space, casting warm shadows across the small living area. Trevor took a deep breath, allowing the comfort of home to wash over him. He could hear Ashley humming softly to herself in the galley, her presence filling the air with warmth.

“Hey, you,” she called out, glancing over her shoulder with a smile that instantly eased the tension in his chest. “How was your evening?”

Trevor paused, his heart swelling at the sight of her. “It was... eventful.” He tried to keep his tone light, not wanting to burden her with the weight of the night’s events.

Ashley set down the knife she had been using to chop vegetables and wiped her hands on a dish towel. “Eventful? Is that a good or bad thing?”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It was just another night in paradise.” The words hung between them, heavy with meaning, but Trevor knew he wanted to shield her from the harsh realities outside.

As he stepped closer, Ashley reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm. “You look like you could use a drink. Want some wine?”

“I could use something stronger,” he replied, but his tone was playful. “Maybe a little bourbon?”

She raised an eyebrow, mischief dancing in her eyes. “You know I’ll just get you wine.”

“Fine, I’ll take what I can get.” He stepped further into the cabin, watching as she poured two glasses of wine. The way she moved, the way she always seemed to light up a room, reminded him of everything he fought to protect.

When she turned back to him, the glasses in hand, he could see the warmth in her gaze, the way she regarded him with a mixture of love and concern. It was a look that pierced through the darkness he carried within.

“Here,” she said, handing him a glass. Their fingers brushed against each other, sending a jolt of electricity through him. Trevor took a sip, savoring the taste of the wine, but it was nothing compared to what he truly wanted.

“Come here,” he murmured, drawing her closer as he set the glass down on the counter.

Ashley moved into his arms, fitting perfectly against him, and for a moment, he let the world fade away. Her warmth enveloped him, and he breathed in the scent of her hair—sweet and floral. It was grounding, a reminder that there was still beauty in life amidst the chaos.

“Trevor...” she began, but he silenced her with a gentle finger on her lips.

“Just let me hold you for a minute,” he whispered, his voice low and tender.

Ashley nodded, her eyes softening as she melted into him. Trevor buried his face in her neck, inhaling the calming scent of her shampoo. He could feel the tension of the day slipping away, replaced by a warmth that spread through his entire being.

“Sometimes I feel like I’m losing you,” she murmured against his shoulder, her voice tinged with worry.

Trevor pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, cupping her face in his hands. “You’re not losing me. I’m right here. I promise, I’ll always come back to you.”

Her gaze searched his, and he could see the flicker of fear behind her confidence. “I worry about what’s out there, Trevor. The life you’ve left behind.”

“Let me show you what’s right here,” he replied, leaning in closer, his breath mingling with hers.

He captured her lips in a soft kiss, one that deepened with each passing second. Trevor poured all the love, all the promise of a better tomorrow into that kiss. He could feel her melting against him, her body responding to his, and the world outside faded further into the background.

As they pulled apart, their foreheads resting against each other, he felt a surge of longing course through him. “I need you, Ash. I need you to remind me of who I am when everything else tries to pull me under.”

With a teasing smile, she whispered, “Then let’s forget the world for a while.”

Trevor nodded, knowing that what they were about to share would be a sanctuary from the chaos. They moved to the small bedroom area, the space cozy and inviting, bathed in warm light.

As they settled into the familiar intimacy of their space, Trevor took his time, letting his hands explore her body gently, tracing the contours of her curves, savoring the feel of her skin against his. Each touch ignited a fire within him, stoking the embers of a passion that always lay just beneath the surface.

He kissed a trail from her lips down to her collarbone, feeling her breath hitch, and he looked up to find her eyes dark with desire. The moment hung between them, thick with unspoken words, and he knew he could lose himself in her completely.

“Trevor...” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper, filled with need.

“Shh,” he murmured against her skin, drawing her closer, kissing her softly, feeling her heart racing beneath his fingertips. He wanted to drown out every fear, every doubt, to build a fortress around their love that nothing could penetrate.

They moved together in perfect harmony, the outside world forgotten as they lost themselves in each other. Trevor’s heart raced, but it was a different kind of tension now—a promise of connection, a pledge to protect what mattered most.

For that moment, they were more than just survivors of their pasts; they were two souls intertwined, finding solace in one another amidst the chaos.

Chapter 6: The Shadow Connection

The low hum of voices and the clatter of typewriters filled the bustling office of Internal Affairs in New York City. Johnathan Angel sat at his cluttered desk, sifting through paperwork and case files. It had been another long day, but that was nothing new.

Johnathan had been working on a case that had been gnawing at him for months—a string of suspicious reports linking high-level officials to not just the city's most dangerous criminal organizations, but the country's. It was the kind of case that could break wide open or be buried six feet under if he wasn’t careful. His instincts told him that something much bigger was at play, something that reached far beyond New York’s crime-ridden streets.

He leaned back in his chair, scanning the open file in front of him. His brow furrowed as he read the name that had been haunting him for weeks: The Latin Kings. Their influence had spread far beyond the streets, and now, whispers of political corruption were surfacing, unsubstantiated but too frequent to ignore.

“Angel, you got a minute?” a voice called out, breaking him from his thoughts.

Johnathan looked up to see his colleague, Pete Morrison, walking over with a grim expression on his face. Something was off.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Johnathan asked.

Pete hesitated for a moment, clearly unsure of how to proceed. “I just got a call. It’s about Trevor Blade.”

The name hit Johnathan like a punch to the gut. Trevor Blade, the elusive ex-cop that turned in his badge and retired to live a quiet life after all that had happened. Johnathan worked with the "Death Blade" to see to the end of a mutual enemy and in the process became the closest thing to a friend he'd allowed himself to have in years. He was supposed to be done with the violence, living a quiet life in Florida with his new wife, Ashley.

“What about him?” Johnathan asked, his voice tight.

Pete sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “There was an accident. Word is, he and Ashley were run off the road down in South Florida. Some are saying the Latin Kings might’ve been involved.”

“The Latin Kings?” Johnathan muttered, his mind racing. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but that’s what I’m hearing. The details are still sketchy, but they barely made it out alive,” Pete added, his tone serious.

Johnathan stood up abruptly, pacing behind his desk as his mind worked overtime to connect the dots. “Trevor... I thought he was done with all this.”

“He probably thought the same,” Pete replied, shrugging. “But you know how it is for hero cops. Trouble has a way of finding them.”

Johnathan’s mind went to the case file sitting on his desk. He had been digging into the Latin Kings for months, but there had been whispers, rumors that reached higher than anyone dared to believe. There were unconfirmed reports—shaky at best—that the Vice President himself had been involved in loosening regulations to allow the Latin Kings free rein in Florida.

At first, it had sounded like a wild conspiracy, the kind of thing you’d hear in a dive bar from a drunk ex-cop, but now? With Trevor and Ashley caught in the crosshairs, the connection felt too real to ignore.

“Do you think it’s related?” Pete asked, watching Johnathan closely.

Johnathan stopped pacing, turning back to his desk as he picked up the file. “It has to be. I’ve been tracking the Latin Kings for months. The thing is, they’re not just operating down in Florida. They’re being allowed to operate.”

Pete raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean someone at the top is protecting them. There’s a reason they’ve been able to expand their operations without anyone stepping in. I’ve got whispers—unsubstantiated reports—that the Vice President is involved. Loosening regulations, making sure the Feds look the other way. It’s all tied together.”

Pete’s eyes widened. “You think the Vice President is letting the Latin Kings run wild in Florida?”

Johnathan nodded slowly, the gravity of the situation sinking in. “I don’t think. I know. And now Trevor’s tangled up in it.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and Pete leaned in closer. “So what’s the plan? You think Blade knows?”

“No, he doesn’t know anything,” Johnathan replied, his voice grim. “He’s a target now, just like everyone else who gets too close. But if the Latin Kings are involved, they’re not going to stop. If we don’t figure this out, Trevor and Ashley won’t be safe. No one will.”

Johnathan sat back down at his desk, his mind working overtime. He knew Trevor well enough to know that if he got even a whiff of the conspiracy, he’d blow it wide open, with or without backup. But this was bigger than either of them. It reached into the highest echelons of power, and if they weren’t careful, they could both end up buried.

“We need proof, something concrete,” Pete said, breaking the silence.

Johnathan glanced at the file in his hand, his mind racing. “Yeah, we do. And if what I’ve been hearing is true, the proof is down in Florida. That’s where we’ll find the connection.”

Pete crossed his arms, his expression serious. “You’re thinking of going down there, aren’t you?”

Johnathan nodded, his decision already made. “I have to. Trevor’s in danger, and if what I’m hearing is true, he’s not the only one. The corruption runs deep, and I’m not going to sit here while they destroy everything we’ve fought for.”

“Do you have anything solid on the VP?” Pete asked, lowering his voice.

“Not yet,” Johnathan admitted, frustration creeping into his voice. “It’s all whispers, unsubstantiated reports. But it’s enough to start pulling on threads. And now, with Trevor involved, it’s too close to ignore.”

Pete gave him a slow nod. “You’d better be careful, Angel. If you start poking around in the Vice President’s business, things are going to get ugly fast.”

Johnathan’s jaw tightened. “I know. But I’m not letting them get away with this. Not this time.”

The two men exchanged a long, silent look. The stakes had just gotten a lot higher, and Johnathan knew they were stepping into dangerous territory. 

Chapter 7: The Cold Stare

The fluorescent lights above Trevor flickered as he limped down the hospital corridor, his breath ragged and labored. His face was a mess of dried blood, cuts, and bruises, but none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered now was behind the door at the end of the hall—Ashley.

He pushed through the door, wincing as his dislocated knee protested with each step. The sterile smell of the hospital burned his nostrils, but the sight of Ashley lying motionless in the bed turned his stomach inside out. Machines beeped quietly beside her, tubes connected to her arms, and her face—usually full of life—was now pale and still.

“Mr. Blade,” a voice called out softly from behind him. It was the doctor, his expression grim.

Trevor didn’t turn around. He couldn’t. His eyes were locked on Ashley, on her fragile form. He moved closer to her bedside, his hand trembling as he reached out to touch her, but he stopped just short. She looked so small, so helpless. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Ashley...” he whispered, his voice breaking.

The doctor stepped closer, clearing his throat gently. “Mr. Blade, I know this is difficult, but we need to talk about your wife’s condition.”

Trevor’s jaw clenched as he tore his eyes away from Ashley, finally turning to face the doctor. “What’s the damage?” he asked, his voice low, hollow.

“She’s in a coma,” the doctor said, his tone careful. “Her injuries are severe. The crash caused significant trauma to her spine. We’ve stabilized her for now, but... the damage is likely permanent. She may never regain the use of her legs.”

The words hit Trevor like a sledgehammer to the chest. He felt the room spin for a moment, the pain in his knee and face disappearing under the weight of this new reality. Ashley, paralyzed. The future he had envisioned for them, shattered.

“You’re telling me... she might never walk again?” Trevor asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor nodded solemnly. “I’m sorry, Mr. Blade. We’ll do everything we can, but spinal damage like this... it’s hard to recover from. Right now, our priority is her stability. She’s in critical condition, and we need to monitor her closely.”

Trevor’s fists clenched, the knuckles white from the pressure. His heart raced, a mixture of rage and helplessness surging through him. This wasn’t fair. She didn’t deserve this. None of it. The Latin Kings had done this, and he had let them.

“You need to stay here too,” the doctor added, taking a step closer. “You’re in bad shape. That knee needs immediate attention, and the shrapnel wounds—”

“I’m fine,” Trevor growled, cutting him off. “I don’t have time for this. Ashley needs me.”

“I understand, but you’re in no condition to—”

Trevor pushed past the doctor, his mind racing. He didn’t care about his own injuries. The pain meant nothing compared to what Ashley was going through. He had failed her once. He wasn’t going to fail her again.

“Mr. Blade!” the doctor called after him, but Trevor didn’t stop. He moved through the hospital like a man possessed, pain radiating from his knee with every step. He had one destination in mind.

The old garage stood at the edge of town, hidden behind a line of oak trees and half-forgotten by time. It had been years since Trevor had set foot there, but as he pushed the creaky door open, it felt like stepping into a memory—a darker, bloodier time when he had been a different man.

The black Ford Mustang, covered in dust and neglect, sat waiting for him like an old friend. It was a relic from his days on the force, a symbol of who he had been before everything went to hell.

Trevor moved with grim determination, ignoring the searing pain in his leg. His knee was swollen, twisted out of place, but he didn’t care. He had work to do.

He limped to the workbench, his movements deliberate, as he began pulling out tools and scrap metal. His mind was sharp despite the pain, every action methodical. He had no intention of letting himself bleed out or wallow in his injuries. He wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

Grabbing a wrench and biting down on a strip of leather, Trevor took a deep breath and steeled himself for what came next. He braced his knee with his hands and, with one agonizing twist, relocated the joint. The pain was white-hot, radiating through his body like fire, but he held back a scream, focusing on the sound of his own labored breathing. Sweat poured down his face, but he didn’t stop.

Gritting his teeth, he fashioned a crude knee brace from the scrap metal lying around the garage, using pieces of an old motorcycle frame to secure it. The brace was bulky, uncomfortable, and heavy, but it would have to do. He needed mobility—needed to be able to move, to fight. To finish this.

As the hours dragged on, Trevor worked with a singular focus, souping up the Mustang for high performance and durability. He reinforced the body, tinkered with the engine, and armed it for the war he knew was coming. Every bolt tightened, every modification made was a step closer to his reckoning.

By the time he finished, the once-forgotten car looked like a beast reborn, ready to tear through the streets and exact revenge.

Trevor stood back, breathing heavily as he wiped the sweat from his brow. His face was still bloodied, his leg throbbing with pain, but he felt alive in a way he hadn’t in years. The rage in his chest burned hotter than ever.

He walked around the car, his cold, bitter gaze reflecting off the polished black surface. This was no longer about survival. This was war. And he was going to make every last one of those bastards pay for what they had done to Ashley.

Trevor opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat, his hand gripping the wheel like a lifeline. The engine roared to life with a deep growl, and for a moment, the world outside disappeared, replaced by the steady thrum of power beneath him.

His jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as he stared out through the windshield, the weight of his mission settling heavily on his shoulders. There was no turning back now. He was going to hunt them down—one by one if he had to.

With a cold, bitter stare, Trevor Blade drove off into the night, leaving behind the man he had tried so hard to become.

Last edited by Machismo (10/10/2024 5:13 pm)