Control

Chapter 1: The Bad Beginning

Leya was eighteen when her parents died alone, afraid. They were shot purely out of hatred, because they were different, because they had chosen to live outside of The Society, because they didn't agree that everyone should be broken up into dominants and submissives. Leya was getting groceries of all things when she came back to her house to find her parents lying in a pool of their own blood, their arms barely brushing one another's. The groceries fell discarded at her feet, slipping through her numb fingers. She almost couldn't comprehend the sight at first, as if her brain refused to interpret the images it was receiving. Then the shock wore off and she was screaming, dropping to her knees and scrambling over to her parents to check for any signs of life. Of course, she didn't find any. The attacker had been thorough.

The floor seemed to sway beneath her as she tried to raise herself on her shaking limbs. It took several attempts, but Leya managed, blinking furiously as if to wipe the blood and lifeless bodies from her mind. Somehow in her dazed stupor, Leya found her way to The Society police station, miles away, her clothes and hands drenched in blood. The officers on duty were baffled. They knew about the family living on the outskirts of the Society who kept to themselves, refusing to adapt to the nation's standardized way of living. They were suspicious yes, but to be murdered for it? Even the officers were shocked. The homicide division took over, sending out numerous people to investigate, meanwhile  pulling Leya into a quiet office with a small window to talk. The detective lady had a pretty, sharply defined face, with her blonde hair pulled back into an impossibly tight bun, no hair daring to escape. She sat across from a shell-shocked Leya, sympathy coating her features.

"Leya, I am Detective Catherine Morgan. Title: Dominant. I can't imagine what you must be going through right now. If you're up for it, though, I would like to ask you a few questions that could help with our investigation. Would that be alright?" she asked softly, holding in her hands a pad of paper and a pen. Leya swallowed, only vaguely conscious of the room around her and the seat beneath her. She felt like she was floating, only there was this awful crushing sensation in her chest that made it almost impossible to breathe, to forget. Blinking, she barely registered her head shaking up and down.

"Great, okay, so your parents moved out of the Society together when they got married, correct?"

Leya's head nodded once, her eyes glazed over.

"They cut all ties with their families and barely had contact with anyone in the decades since their removal?"

Again, a faint nod, the girl's expression frighteningly blank.

"Can you think of anyone who might have had a reason to harm them?"

A choked breath, maybe a scoff. Finally, a reaction. "No, we kept to ourselves. No one had any reason to want to hurt them, to . . . "

Leya's face went a startlingly shade of pale as she blinked and her brain unwillingly brought forth the searing image of her parents lying lifeless, the blood, their blank stares. Before she knew it, a trash can was being placed in front of her and then she was wrenching pitifully. The women held her hair back with one hand and the trash can in the other. When Leya was finished, her entire body wouldn't stop trembling. She barely even noticed it, just unconsciously curled farther around herself. The detective brought her a blanket and a steaming cup of tea, and didn't say another word until the shaking stopped.

"Leya! Oh, Leya!" A feminine, nearly hysterical voice could be heard outside the glass door, accompanied by a slim, dark-haired unfamiliar women in her late-thirties. Something itched in Leya's brain, but she didn't have the energy to scratch it. The detective stood erect before stepping outside to talk to the woman who kept shooting worried glances back into the room at Leya. Their conversation didn't last long. Leya couldn't overhear what it was about due to the terrible ringing in her ears. After several minutes, the detective came into the room, followed by the woman.