Case Closed Fan Fiction ❯ Kore o kudasai ❯ Ch VI: Goodmorning Angle ( Chapter 6 )

A note from the author:

 

Beware the melodrama

You have been warned…

Gigi

…o0:Chapter VI:0o…

“Good morning angel”

 

The first thing she became aware of was a swimming, sickening pain in her head and stomach. Moaning, Ran rolled over to her side, holding her stomach and shivering slightly. She really needed to remind her father to stop leaving the window in the office open, the whether was getting to cold and as much as he clamed it saved on air-conditioning it was really more a nuisance then it was worth. Teeth chattering slightly she gingerly tried to pick herself up, only to be rewarded with a burning pain that shot through her head and neck. Taking in a sharp hiss of breath she allowed herself to slump back down on to her side.

Why? Why did she hurt this much?

Why didn't she know?

For a long moment she simply lay there as her mind tried to pull together any reminisce of memory as to why she should be in so much pain. Something was wrong, something did not feel right. Slowly she opened her eyes.

A wall, she was looking at a wall…a gray wall. Where was she?

Whimpering quietly to herself Ran forced her heavy limbs to move, reaching her hands up to rub the haze from her eyes. To her surprise and bewilderment she found her hands…both hands…were restrained. Handcuffed, someone had handcuffed her wrist together.

Surprise gave way to horror as she stared wide eyed at her wrists. In a flash the entire course of events proceeding her unfortunate black out came into sharp focus. The filing cabinet, the papers, the cold grip about her neck, her face buried in a white handkerchief, her attempt to scream, to cry out, to fight back, the pain that drove through her leg as her foot connected with something, the blanketing cold, and finally…

Setting her discomfort aside Ran sat bolt upright, spinning around where she sat.

She was alone…she was alone in a room she had never seen before.

The space was small, its lone source of light a single bulb the swung low on a cord overhead. With the exception of the small cot on which she now sat the room was completely unfurnished with a single large steel door visible to her right. There were no widows, no vents, only a single drain in the center of the floor gave it any specific characteristic.

For a long moment she simply sat there dazed, unable to comprehend the implications of her situation. It felt as if the walls themselves were moving, swaying, pushing in on her. Ran could almost imagine she felt the room moving in, suffocating her as she sat horrified and alone.

Her fear quickly gave way to a sense of panic as she sat alone and cold in this alien environment. She had to get out, to get somewhere, anywhere that wasn't here. Staggering to her feet she stumbled to the door, pulling at the handle before setting about beating against the metal with both fists. “Help!” she continued to pound on the door, tears beginning to role down her cheeks. “Help, Please. Someone…anyone please…Help me!”

Her knees buckled under her and slowly she slid to the floor. One fist continuing to beat at the door, the thick reverberating thud echoing through the tiny room. “Please…” A wave of hopelessness overtook her, pressing in. “Please…” Pulling her knees up to her chest, arms wrapped about her legs she tried to stifle her sobs. She felt as if she were drowning, lost and confused as she was.

No, no she had to get a hold of herself, she had to remain calm.

Slowly her sobs subsided as she forced herself to relax. She needed to stay calm, to keep her wits about her; absolutely nothing could be accomplished if she went on crying like this. Taking a deep breath Ran turned, leaning now against the door as she looked out over her small dismal prison.

What would Shinichi do?

It struck her as quite odd that now of all time that detective nut would come to mind, but Shinichi always seemed to know what to do, regardless of the situation. He never panicked; he always remained cool, always thought things through.

Ran wiped the tears from her face with the back of one fist as she began to assess the situation. She had to look at this logically. Someone had attacked her well she was home; someone had drugged her and taken her here. Alright, that much was fact.

But why?

She hadn't done anything. Was it to get at her father? That was more likely, but there were far less risky ways of accomplishing that. Bribery, blackmail, even just the threat of abduction would be enough to get his attention. An actual kidnapping was risky, especially in the middle of the day, why would anyone need to resort to such drastic measures?

Why her father in the first place…did someone have a grudge? No then why not just attack her?

The soft rhythmic tapping of boots on a hard surface suddenly intruded on her thoughts. Someone was coming. Leaping to her feet she spun around, backing slowly away from the door. She clenched her teeth as the footsteps grew louder, whatever was going on, she had a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach that she was about to find out.

The footsteps stopped and there was herd a quiet click as the doors lock was released. With her back now almost pressed up against the far wall Ran watched as slowly the door swung open.

Three men stood silhouetted by the light outside her small prison. Run had to squint, so bright was the outside light in comparison with the single bulb that lit her cell. “Good morning Miss Mouri” came the voice of the largest of the three men as he stepped forward into the room. “We are very glad to see you are finally up and about.”

Ran didn't reply. She stood defiantly, her stance defensive as though preparing for a tournament. The large man simply laughed as he nodded to the other two at his side. They advanced on Ran, and in the gloom of this new environment she caught a clear glimpse of her captors for the first time. One of the two sported a large scare that ran down the length of his face; short spiked hair sticking out at all angles. The second, ganglier of the two hid his face behind long black hair, and the smirk that covered it was more then enough to make her stomach turn.

She growled dangerously as the men approached, her fear temporarily replaced by a rush of adrenalin filled rage. With a quick side step Ran swung at the two with a powerful sweeping karate kick. Whatever happened she wasn't about to go anywhere or do anything without a fight.

The first man stepped nimbly to one side as the wiry figure leapt back, the heel of her foot inches away from breaking his nose. “Little bitch” the first bit out, weaving in and around, his arms wrapping about her torso and pinning her from behind before she could aim another blow. Ran screamed in protest kicking and writhing as the second man approached her, a handkerchief in hand. “This is only as difficult as you make it out to be.” He coed in a raspy voice, cold hands reaching up and around her face in order to tie the cloth in place about her eyes.

Once the blindfold was in place the man released his hold on her, moving to her side to grasp her arm in a vice like grip. “Move” he said simply, his voice cold as ice. Ran snarled, but before she could lash out at him there came a soft click of a gun safety being released as the cold metal of the barrel was pressed into the base of her neck. “You heard him, now walk.”

Ran felt a wash of fear run through her, but she fought desperately to keep it from her face as she did indeed begin to walk, the spiky haired man leading her by the arm as the second followed behind making sure she was quite aware at all times of his presence and that of the weapon in his hand.

The walk did not last long and in short order she felt the clammy hands reach about her face. The blindfold was quickly removed as she was shoved unceremoniously into a room, almost loosing her balance in the process. Staggering slightly she steadied herself before shooting a scowl over her shoulder at the three men who once again blocked her only means of escape. The three simply grinned back.

Straightening herself up she turned from the trio and took a quick look about to get her bearings. What she saw took her quite by surprise.

The room in which she now stood was dramatically different from the one she had been pulled from. Indeed part of her wondered if they did in fact belong to the same building. A large office furnished in elegant leather and dark rich red wood, lit by the soft cool light of many lamps and fixtures. Despite the light the overall ambience of the space remained dark, almost foreboding in her mind. The sweet scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke seemed to move interchangeable, consistently bombarding her senses. At the far end of the room a large desk looked out over the rest of the space, a large tapestry adorning the wall directly behind it. The only thing this room seamed to share with the other was the lack of windows.

There was a soft click and Ran turned once more to see the first man, the largest of the three closing the door behind them, the other two still outside. Turning the large man gestured for her to enter in a manner that was almost over polite. She glared at him coldly for a long moment, but at the risk of having another gun pointed in her general direction she complied, moving slowly towards the large desk and chairs before it.

The room seemed almost surreal in some respect. The place seemed as much a lounge as an office so casual and dark was its ambiance. Making her way up three steps she arrived before the desk and found herself confronted with the large overwhelming tapestry that seemed to loom ominously over her.

Ran stared at the tapestry for a long moment. The images that loomed over her was of a western make, and though she considered herself little more then an art enthusiast, she could at least recognize it as dating to the European Medieval era. Above her men and women twisting and writhing in agony at the hands of beast like demons that grind down at the viewer. Dark clawed hands ripped and tore at the few souls that dear reach up beyond the tapestry; that sought salvation from something beyond the picture plain.

“Beautiful, isn't it”

A cold voice cut through her revelry and Ran turned in surprise to see a tall figure standing off to one side, dressed entirely in black. So silent and still had he been that she had not even noticed him as he stood, his face concealed behind long platinum locks and a large black hat. “It is a reproduction of a 13centery German fresco. Not nearly as impressive as the original, but very few things are.” Stepping forward he offered the young woman a sly smile, the cigarette never once leaving his mouth. With one gloved hand he gestured for her to be seated.

Once again Ran did not move. “Who are you?” her voice was eerily hollow, even to her own ears. The mans smile only widened as he studied her from across the desk. “No one that is of any of your concern.” Came the cool reply. He paused as if considering that for a moment, taking the cigarette form his lips and flicking in smartly into an ashtray on the desk. “Too many I am no one; to those who seek me I am an enigma…” The cigarette slowly found its way back to his lips. “To you, I am simply `sir', understand.” He nodded almost imperceptibly and almost instantly Ran felt the strong grip of the other larger man on her shoulders, leading her over and forcibly pushing her down into one of the leather trimmed chairs.

“You will forgive the crudity of the restraints,” the tall man interrupted once more, before Ran had a chance to protest such harsh treatment. “But you see, after the damage you inflicted on our colleague, who was kind enough to fetch you hear for us, well, my partner and I simply didn't want to take any chances.”

Damage? Ran was quite taken aback to say the least. It took a moment before she realized what exactly they were referring too. In the stairwell, right before she lost conchesness she had managed one last jab to her assailants head. She could vaguely remember twisting her body and throwing one last blow to his face. The blow had offset is balance and almost sent the two of them crashing down the steps in a heap. It somehow made her feel a bit stronger knowing that they saw her as a force to be dealt with.

“Who are you” Ran repeated, her voce finding a bit more strength. The tall figure took a seat at the other side of the desk, shaking his head almost sadly. “Questions, questions…I guess I should expect nothing less from the daughter of the renowned Sleeping Kogouru.” Leaning forward he favored Ran with a very dark, very chilling smile. There was something in his hollow grin that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. “But I warn you Miss Mouri, the last little detective who tried that game found himself convulsing in the back lot of an amusement park…a rather unpleasant end for such a prestigious teen sensation, wouldn't you say?”

There came a dry chuckle from her side as the larger man sat himself in the chair kitty corner to Ran. “Little punk never knew what his him” he added in an agreeable tone.

A cold unbearable chill raced down Ran's spine, settling deep in her stomach. She could not even begin to understand what, let alone who they were talking about. It was as if some where deep in her she knew, but could not otherwise understand.

She forced her face to stay ridged, though she found she could no longer keep her fists from shaking. “You don't scare me”

Again came the dry chuckle as the man across from her leaned back in his seat. “You are very brave Miss. Mouri, and so remarkably naïve...” And with that he casually flung a handful of newspaper clippings and Polaroid's in her direction. They fanned out in front of her crating a small montage of unsavory images and foreboding headlines. “After all, I'm sure you're quite familiar with our work.”

Hesitantly Ran risked a glimpse at the casual collage scattered out before her. Burning buildings, missing person's reports, untimely deaths under bazaar circumstances…

So many awful things and these men…these men did not just take credit for them, they took some kind of sickening pride in them.

Ran gritted her teeth, wanting for nothing more then the use of her hands at that very moment in order to physically remove that smug smile from his face. This was no organization; it was a murdering pack of cowards. However no mater how hard she tried, she could not wrench her eyes away. All she could do was stare blankly at the images before her, at the long list of names and dates accented now and then with a Polaroid or two from what appeared to be there personal collection. She felt as if she was going to be sick, all of these people, all of them killed and relegated to nothing more then a sick scrapbook collection.

And just as quickly as it had come she felt her unbearable fury turn to a cold terror that robbed her momentarily of both breath and voice.

The man in that Polaroid. The young man in tattered blue jeans and a green jacket lay sprawled out features somewhat distorted due to the apparent haste in which the shot was take. Even in the almost complete darkness of the image she could make out the blood that had begun to pool about his face. Quickly sketched at the bottom of the photo could be seen a date, a time, and the English letter `D'.

It didn't matter that the photo was blurred, it did not matter that the photo was dark…she knew.

. “Sh-Shinichi” she managed, her voice hollow and her face ashen. It was wrong, it had to be wrong, Shinichi was alive, she had spoken to him, seen him since that day. Why would he…how…

The larger of the two men leaned forward in his chair, looking down at the book and the name that had so captivated their guest. “Ah, a friend of yours?” he cooed, having leaned forward in order to catch a gimps of what had so changed there guests demeanor. Sitting back and folding his arms over his chest. “…Always surprised me that one didn't make it into the papers.”

The other man however seemed to read something else entirely from her demeanor, his gaze fixed upon the teen as if studying her every movement, her every thought.

“No” he said softly, removing the cigarette from his mouth as he stood, a scowl overtaking his face. Making his way around the desk, he leaned in close to the girl. “No, he's alive isn't he”

Ran said nothing, simply stared down at the book, her pail face a mix of shock and confutation. The man in the chair looked up at his companion, “imposable, the case was confirmed, you were at the house yourself.” The other shook his head, his eyes never once leaving Ran. “Do you remember who wrote that particular report?” The larger man thought for a moment before his eyes went wide “Sherry, Sherry did right before she…”

He fell silent, eyes wide as the implications whatever that information meant seemed to set in on him. Thin lips split into a lopsided grin as the cigarette found its way back to the taller mans mouth. “So, the great detective is still at large.” He laughed softly as he finally turned his face from Ran, his eyes moving down to the photograph in question, then to his partner. “I have told you for some time that there could be a fox at our heels, and I have had my suspicions…”

Taking one final drag on the cigarette he allowed it to slip from his fingers, extinguishing the remaining embers with the toe of his boot. “I do believe our little undertaking has just taken on an entirely new dynamic.”

“Oh god…”Ran felt numb, fingers gripping at her skirt as she tried to force her hands to stop shaking, eyes still fixed on the image. The more she thought about it, the more she reviewed the information in her head, the more the peaces began to fit together. After there trip to tropical-land, Shinichi had simply disappeared. In fact whenever she had seen or heard from him since he insisted that it be kept quiet, that his name never appear in the papers, that he not be credited for any of the cases he worked on. It was so unlike him, so contradictive to everything he was, but so fitting with everything these men had said. He had been in hiding, he had been trying to keep these men from finding out he was alive. He had been trying to protect himself, his family…her. And now...

“Oh god…what have I done”