Grim Memories - Flashback [Coal/Grenal]

Coal was still unwell from his recent meeting with Grenal Black, someone he considered to be a dangerous sociopath, a criminal mastermind, someone in need of recognition... He also considered him to be a rival, an equal in their way of thinking some opposite way... They were enemies, nemesises... After their short meeting, Coal had a class, but you could guess that he wasn't really in the mood to teach anything to anyone. So as the class started, he gave some wrok to his student without caring if they understood. It was quite the simple work anyway as Coal hated all kind of correction. Ironic when you think that he tried to correct criminals in the past. Maybe it`s because of that, who knows... Coal sat there, at his desk thinking about all this started. Not being a teacher at Syne, nor how he became a detective or a private investigator, but how his "relation" with Black started. It was surely a mess, literally...

It was 10 years ago, Coal was 19. It has only been 2 years since he became a full fledge detective and already he was above the others in many, if not all, the skills. Investigating, shooting, pursuing, analyzing... No one was better than him, not even his mentor, John Blackthorn, that trained him to hone his skills and his mightiest weapon: his mind. They were called on an homicide, something usual at this time of the year in the capital of Atlas, especially for the sector in which Coal was affected. You could see two murders in a week, and when I say ''see'', I mean it. You could be at the wrong spot at the worse time and being witnessing a cold blood kill twise a week if you weren't lucky. Coal and John were seeing them all, but only too late to prevent them. That raining night, they were called for a murder in an alleyway.

They both walked toward the victim that was under some police instalation to cover the scene from the rain, John stayed back to allow Coal to anakyse the scene and the corpse. ''So, what do we have here?'' Did John asked his partner. Coal looked at the victim and his wound closely. ''The victim is a man in his early 30s. His throat has been slit with a strait deep cut, aiming to kill via blood loss. The weapon has a single strait edge, probably a razor of some sort.'' Looking at the blood spilled all around the body and also the way the body was, Coal continued. ''The body was moved. He was standing when he was killed and he was kept like that until all the blood had exited his body. He was then dragged against the wall and put like this. Could mean the killer knew the victim, but I doubt it.'' Coal stood up and looked at John. ''What tells you that?'' Coal wlaked a little farther and looked toward the street and the building right in front. ''Tell me, if you had to kill someone you know, would you do this in the street where someone could easily see you, or in a place where you could have more control over the situation? Also, why sliting the throat and make the victim stand? Wouldn't a gun be way simpler? Yes the noise, but a pillow, in a bedroom can make a good silencer.'' John rubbed his chin as Coal pointed out those details. ''But wouldn`t that be a good way to throw us off if someone knows how cops generally thinks?'' Coal walked toward John, pointing the body to the legists so they could bring the body at the morgue. He walked past John and pat his shoulder. ''I generally don't think like cops myself, probably the murderer does the same and thinks in another way. I'll find him anyway.''
-Him? How do you know that it's a man?
-Simple, the killer needed to be tall and strong enough to kill and keep the body standing. So either the killer was a big nordic woman, or it was a man. My bet is set.
They both walked toward their car heading toward their office to look at the evidence there.

He had left the scene much earlier then that. He had his coat still on, and his coat, white as could be, wasn't tarnished with blood. He had made sure of that, as he walked towards his home. When he got home, he threw his clothes in the washer, and sat, thinking of his next murder.

'Assuming that I have a detective on this case, I best hope that this one doesn't think like normal. He'd have though, or she, have thought about the place, and would realize that someone of my caliber, albeit they don't know who I am, would also know that I am smart.'

Grenal heard the washer finish, and went to lay on his bed. He had things to think about, including his next kill. The kill was the best part, at least, in his humble opinion. Okay, maybe humble isn't the best way to describe a sociopathic murderer, but it was a word he liked to use. He got up and then looked out his window at the rain.

' I wonder what I could do in the rain. Ah, maybe write quotes on the ceilings of my victims, which was impossible with killing in an alleyway. I shouldn't do that again. I should kill someone inside of their home, someone who decided to take me in to be nice, but what if they have family members? Ah, I'll kill them too. More thrill.'

He told his father that he was going to leave for the night, and his father mumbled his approval, as whenever Grenal left for the night, he'd always come back with money. His father never questioned extra money.

As he set foot in the rain, he messed up his hair, and ripped up his white shirt, and even cut his cheek, in which the pain felt nice to his normally lacking emotional scale. He wandered, going to downtown, and finding a home that looked to house one person. He 'fell' on the door, falsely pleading,

"Please, help. I was mugged and I'm cold and I need a place to stay for the night."

He was told to back up, to which he did. A young lady opened the door, she looked to be about the age of 26, and he was a 16 year old boy who looked like he had just been mugged. He was helped in, and brought to the couch in the living room, which was what the door led into. He was sat there, and told to wait. He nodded, pretending to be grateful. The lass came in and gave him a class of milk, which he took gratefully, and drank swiftly.

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

The woman turned her back, and Grenal got up, and took out his razor, and grabbed her in a choke-hold.

"If you struggle, I will have no choice but to kill you in a more gruesome way then I already am."

He tighten his hold, and she soon went limp. She let her down, and then slowly but surely brought her up to her room. He then found some tape and wrapped it around her head and mouth, and then put the razor to her neck and waited for her to awake. It took her about 15 minutes, but, to his good graces, she woke up and did not move as she felt the razor on her neck.

"You struggled. You will die slowly."

He mounted her, slowly to prove he was in control, and then took her right arm, and pulled the sleeve up, cutting up the arm along the vein, and he laughed as he heard her scream and felt her struggle. This was fun to him. He dismounted her and then grabbed her by the throat, and pushed her against the wall, and put the razor in his pocket, and punched her in the stomach, feeling his grasp tighten as she writhed in pain. He then, with careful aim, smashed her head against the wall, and he saw her fall limp, but he knew she wasn't dead, just unconscious. He could feel the blood still run through her neck as his grip tightened further.

He dragged the limp body back into the living room and slit it's throat as he sat it down on the couch. It was late enough at night that it'd be hours before anyone would walk by, and Grenal knew that.

He then took his razor, which he had slit her throat and wrist with, and carved 2 letters into her stomach, one below the breast area, and one around the navel. What was written?

His initials. They had no special meaning to someone outside the force, but a smart man would realize that this meant something. What exactly? Who knew.

He then found a piece of paper, and a pencil, and wrote out the following quote.

The one who leads can't make a folly.

He then took to the house, stealing any cash, including the stuff in the gals purse. Totaling at 500 extra Lien, and he walked home, the blood washing off as he arrived and gave his father the cash, and went to sleep, content with how that had went.

Coal was at his desk, in his office looking at the evidences he had about the murder of the man in the alleyway. He was trying to figure why this man could have been killed. By looking at the infos another team was able to get on the man, he lived a peaceful life alone, he had nobody, not even family. He had a simple job, nothing that could be linked to illegal activities. Coal looked at the pictures that were taken, wondering if someone could had a grudge. It would explain the care of the body, but again, he had no one. Could it have been a simple murder? The guy being at the wrong spot t the wrong time and fell victim to a mindless murderer? It was a possibility, but could it be that simple? As simple as this idea was, it didn't make the work easier as that gave him no clue at all.

Coal raised his head off his papers to look at John who just came back from the morgue where he talked with the coroner. "So, what did you got? Anything useful?" John slowly shrugged and sighed before siting at his desk right in front of Coal's. "Nothing you haven't figured out already. It seems he was indeed killed with a strait razor, but it doesn't correspond to any available model on the market, I checked." Coal went back to look at the pictures as the phone rang, another murder has been committed.

Coal and John entered the house, where they would quickly see the limp body of a young woman, sat on the couch, with tape all over her face and her throat slit as well as her arm. Looking at the scene, Coal analyzed every detail: the door, the table, the rooms, the body... everything seemed familiar. As Coal seemed lost in thoughts, John looked at him. "What is it?" Coal then walked around as he explained. "The door wasn't forced, which means the victim knew the killer, or at least she was comfortable having him inside..." John stopped Coal in his explanation. "Wait, "him"? Do you think that...?" Coal just continued, without answering to his partner just yet. "He must have looked like he needed help, he probably is good looking too, to look more trustworthy. Maybe he was young too. Who gives milk to someone you invite inside? It seems odd and it was clearly the killer's glass since there's one on the counter with wine. It will be easy to know that the girl drank the wine. The killer also dragged her around and slit her throat... but from then, it all changed..." Coal looked at the wounds on the body. "The throat as a similar, no, identical cut, I'm pretty sure we are dealing with the same murderer than with the man. Although his pattern evolved, he became more savage in his method. He tortured the poor lass, and the carving on her belly... Postmortem, he marked his kills, or at least he started to." Coal stood up and looked at the glass of milk and the note on the table. "There's some chance we could find DNA on them, but I'll focus on the note, something feels off. I leave the scene to you John, I'll be at the office." Coal then left while John looked for more clues. Coal didn't liked that a serial killer would be one the loose, he had to find him. "G. B.", those were surely his initials...

He woke up on his bed, but did not get up right away. He looked at the ceiling he slept under, and couldn't help but wonder something.

'I wonder who checks my murders. Maybe a new detective, that'd be amusing. I also wonder... who I should be murdering next and when? I mean, that lady was fun, but she didn't put up a fight. There was no thrill of the hunt. Maybe I should go after a well-known fighter. Beat him up a bit, and absolutely destroy him in actual skill.'

He got up and walked to the other-side of the room which housed his bookcase, and he took out a book. Brick and Kate. It was one of those murder dramas by a well known author. He didn't care to look at the author as he took the book over to his bed. He set it on the book, and then sat on his bed, and grabbed the book and open it. He started reading out loud.

"Kate took the man whom she was holding, and threw him. Upon impact, you could hear a snap."

He was thinking about actually brutally beating a fighter, as he was both book-learned, and had been in his fair share of fights. He feels he could beat a fighter that fights for show rather then effectiveness. Sure, they were still strong, probably stronger then he, but they didn't have the skill Grenal had. At least, in his opinion.

It could be said that going after a fighter if you were him would be a horrible idea, but those who say that must also remember something. He was trained in martial arts, and that alone, gave him far more strength then that who fights for show. However, strength in the idea of who would win, not actual physical strength, although he didn't lack in that either.

His thought was broken by his father yelling from downstairs.

"Grenal! Get down here and get some food."

He got up and put the book on his bed, and then went down for breakfast. He sat across from his father, who was sat next to his mother. He glanced at his mother with disgust, and then looked at his food, which was some sausage with bread. It was good stuff.

As he ate, he had to ask his father something.

"What do you do with the money I bring in?"

"Spend it on various things, mainly food and drinks."

Grenal nodded and finished his food, and cleaned the dish fairly quickly before going back up to his room. He looked at the clock, it read 10 A.M.  He had overslept a bit, but it was no matter, his murder was surely found and looked at by then. He grabbed Brick and Kate and put it back in his shelf and brought on a different book.

On the Subject of Death

It was by one of his favorite authors, a man by the name of Tenol Sonada. One of his personal favorite quotes was the following.

'I, myself, have experienced death of all sorts. Mental, physical, professional even. Now, for those who may not know what each stand for, I shall give them to you.

Physical= Ceasing all bodily function
Mental= Losing all sense of right and wrong, being a vegtable
Professional= Losing your job, way of getting money, and things such as that.

He chuckled. He planed on causing all of them at some point. Maybe some physical, and mental before physical. He went back to his bed with the book. He looked at it, read it some more. The next time he looked at the clock, he saw the clock strike noon.

He went downstairs, and looked at the newspaper, and saw an add that said anyone who can beat a fighter named Sanzo would be able to chill at his large house.

He left the house with speed, and went to the place on the add. It was a local gym, and he saw the man take down a man with swift speed, and the man laughed as Grenal came in.

"You can't honestly think that you could beat me, right?"

Grenal took off both his coat and shirt, revealing a well-developed body. He hopped inside the ring, and got into a fighting stance. He looked around and saw no body else in the room, and no cameras, he decided to ask.

"Didja know there's a serial killer going around?"
"No. Why?"
He rushed forward, and hit the fighter with a kick to the stomach, and then he threw the man into the corner and started wailing on him with blows to the chest, stomach, and face.

He was pushed off, and then after being pushed off, he dodged a hook and then a straight.

"That killer? Tis me. You stand no chance."

He ran forward, running under another hook, and picked the guy up, and slammed him. That's when the real fight started.

After dodging, and countering, and getting hit more then once. He felt his last blow connect to the fighters cheek, and he felt the bones crack and he felt the guy go limp. He put the guy up in the corner, and went and found some athletic tape, and taped his hands to the ropes around the corner, and started the punches by throwing a left into the fighters ribs.

After 5 minutes of this, he got out of the ring, and locked the door.

He then found a pair of white gloves, and put them on. He liked white. He knew the guy was still alive, just barely. He decided to end this fighters life. He went over to his jacket, and pulled out the razor, and cut the mans throat. He sliced across it, and then he went a step furthur, opened up the cut, and cut the Esophagus and Larynx and even the Trachea.

He then, after cutting his throat and hearing his last breath, continued to punch the mans body, which of all the ribs were broken, and then decided to go and break each leg and arm, which he promptly did. He laughed looking at the blood on both him and the gloves. He looked around and saw the shower, and took one after taking the rest of his clothes off.

He, after showering, came out and got rid of the tape holding the man, and let him slump into the bloody corner.

With one last kick to the head, he put on his clothes and went home.

Once he arrived home, he went to his room and laid down, skipping dinner entirely. When asked later, he would only answer this.

"I was... tired."

Coal spent the whole night looking over all the details he had about the two murders. The similarities, the differences, everything had a reason. He didn't liked that, the fact that the same man probably committed both murders was a sign that others were to come, and that wasn't a good thing. Sure any murder was wrong in it's right, but going from a simple kill to an horrible beating with only one more murder, it wasn't a good sign for the next victim, and Coal couldn't be more right...

He had received a a call from John late this night. "Guess what..." The tone he had was a serious one, the kind that clearly shown that John was getting a bit preoccupied by all this, more than with usual murders. "I'd say... throat-slitted, violently beaten, somewhere public." John would have smiled about Coal's exactitude and Coal would have known it, but it was too serious for that kind of thoughts. "Join me at the boxing gym near the 11th..." They both hung up and Coal made his way there.

As Coal arrived, he saw John and the Captain talking, and it seem pretty serious. Upon seeing Coal, his superior directly headed toward him. "Coal, tell me, is this really the doing of the same man as the other two murders? 'Cause if it is I need to tell the media that a serial killer is on the loose to put people on alert." "It's a bad idea Boss, let me tell you why..." Coal walked toward the victim and examined it, listening to what the coroner had to say before looking at the Captain. "Throat slit, like the other murders, meaning that the killer got accustomed to the razor he uses and that he loves the way he uses it. We can assume that his next kills will have the same throat-slit pattern. The murders get more violent each time, meaning that he takes more and more pleasure from killing and showing his strength to his victim, showing that he leads them..." He then looked around a bit, seeing no camera or security around. "...the lack of security but the place being generally public shows that he's taking confidence in his kills, being more daring each time."
-Wasn't the first one in an alley? That's public from what I know, and the second was in an apartment.
But the alley isn't somewhere people go to meet or anything. It's generally empty, intimate... Coal looked carefully at the dead man's head and saw a postmortem trauma on it. He then talked to the team that collected all matter of proof. "Have that analyzed, could be useful. Also, go look in the showers. I assume he might have use them in order to get rid of the blood. Seems like a beating like this one doesn't leave you quite neat." He then walked back to his Captain. "Boss, the pattern -even if it shows similarities, there's enough details that are different to avoid saying that a mass murderer is on the loose. Plus, talking about him might just give him a recognition that he seeks. Let me handle it. I'll get that guy." The Captain sighed before heading for his car. "Alright, but I won't be able to hide it from the people forever, they're going to ask questions and I'll be forced to answer. Just be sure to do things right..." The man left, leaving Coal and the others gather more proof before Coal left in order to analyze everything from the comfort of his desk.