The Black Bag (Part 1 of 2)

Vengeance ~ 16

Early 2011; Age 14 (R) - Age 13 (S)

"Richard! My God, are you alright!?"

Richard had only managed to sit up on the frozen ground and clear his hazy vision when his father and Morgan rushed over at full speed. From further away, the bullies continued to jeer... then started screaming when the coroner charged viciously towards them like a bat out of Hell. Carlisle skidded to a halt, went down on his knees and smothered his son before he could speak. For a moment, Richard felt instant relief wash over him and he clung to his father's sweater and scarf almost desperately. Then the fear returned and he almost pushed away.

"Sophie!! She's hurt really bad! Where is she!?"

Carlisle found her with just a lift of his head. She lay a small distance away, unconscious and bleeding from the mouth. He released his son and tried to stand up, realizing then that he was struggling and shaking at the same time. The two staggered to her, went back down just as heavily. 

"Verdammt!!! Diese schmutzige...!!!"*

Richard looked up from his father examination to see Morgan stalking back. He'd never seen the coroner so angry before.... But calling him 'angry' right then was an understatement. He was grinding his teeth, the muffler was undone to show his taut neck muscles, his arms were swinging stiff at his sides and his braid had come undone while he was running. From his mouth flew a string of foreign words and swears which he couldn't understand but knew were nonetheless colorful.

"Those brats got away," he hissed after spitting into the thinning snow. "I couldn't catch them."

Carlisle shook his head, but didn't look up from Sophie's prone form. "Forget them. Sophie's knocked out. Come over here and help me."

It took some time to rouse her and some more to remind her where she was. She sat there with Morgan supporting her rattling neck and back, her cheeks stung by ice crystals and her eye blackened by one accurate punch. She lifted the cuff of her sleeve to her cut bottom lip as Richard narrated everything that had happened. Carlisle kept dangerously quiet throughout and it was thought for a moment that he would blow; but he resisted and all he did was sigh and exhale scorching air.

"As much as Morgan and I would love to murder those kids, they aren't worth our time. What matters right now is getting you two home and cleaned up. Morgan, you will come with us, won't you?"

"No need to even ask, Carl." "Then, let's go. If we don't move, they'll probably come back... and I don't want to do something I'll regret later."

~*~

It was almost night time now. He was just as lost as ever. Even so, he didn't dare stop running. He didn't know how many times he'd yelled over his shoulder at the thing to leave him alone. He did know now though that it was hell bent on catching him... and he really wasn't going to like knowing what would happen if it did.

It was as though he was being pursued by an insect swarm - if insects can even be invisible at one point - : whatever he did and wherever he went, he couldn't be rid of it. Despair, fear and perspiration clung to him as he kept running; attracting whoever was chasing him...

He gasped. His legs, heavy with lethargy, felled him when they stopped. He'd reached a dead end, a empty brick wall within the far end of an alley.

"No! Nonononono - !!"

He turned around. He couldn't see it. He couldn't hear it. But he could feel it. 

"Stop it!!! Stop!! I wanna go home!!"

It horrified him to hear his own screams - so unlike a ruddy kid like him. He'd beaten boys his own size and mocked many who were smaller and weaker - and thus, lower - than him. Never once had he ever been reprimanded or physically caught. The grown ups always failed to pin him down, even his own parents. That crazy man from earlier was a new example. But boy, he was frikkin' scary!

But none of that could compare to this: knowing that not only had he been caught, that he was going to pay for it... in the worst possible way. And he can't even look in the eye of the person who was going to make him do it.

He huffed. As if he was going to give up this easily. He pulled a brave face and mentally reassured himself so, estimating how a final stand would turn out.

"That's enough!" He yelled out, the facade actually helping him collect himself. "Just come out! Show yourself!! ...I'm... I'm not afraid of you!!!"

Then something in his head beckoned him to look down.

The shadow under him was long and tall, almost double to triple his own size.

...But it didn't belong to him.

~*~

One month later...

[An update regarding the missing child's case earlier this month has been issued earlier tonight at 11.45 pm. We are displeased to announce that Elliot McKenzie, aged 14, has been found dead. The body was found behind a garbage dumpster in an alleyway, by a homeless man who had been scavenging that night. Police and investigators who have been working towards identifying any potential abductors responsible for this case state that there is little to no evidence as to who, why or how this has occurred. The body appears to have been stabbed multiple times with the neck severed halfway - ]

The white room is silent once more. Morgan sat down heavily in his swivel chair, exhaling an unsteady breath. He looked over towards the now-occupied operating table. 

"It's true that I wanted to kill this kid too, but not literally... You really did a number on him. I hope you're happy."

No answer... Then again, there was no need for one.