Witch Hunter Robin Fan Fiction ❯ False Echoes ❯ Dreams and Demons ( Chapter 2 )

Witch Hunter Robin
False Echoes

Chapter II - Dreams and Demons

Rated: PG-13 for Violence, Profanity, and Mature Content

Summary: Romantic Getaways, Christmas, Flirting Fun, Sakaki's Dad, Heart filled moments, Jack the Ripper, odd dates, tons of romance, surprises and thrills, and did I mention it's the sequel to Fire and Rain? RobixMike, SakaxDouji, and MihoxAmon!

Disclaimer: You know by now I don't own Witch Hunter Robin® which belongs to Sunrise® and Sci-Fi® Channel. If I owned the show Robin would have vanished with Michael at the end.

Nor do I own the song False Echoes; I just borrowed its title.

Storyline, Plot, Kenny Avery© and the one and only David Rica© are mine.

Author Notes:

You know, after nearly five years of writing fanfics and countless screen names on this bloody site I've finally found a place to call home.

Not only is WHR super fun to write, but after getting 15 reviews in less than 24 hours on a new fanfic, I think I've finally found a place where people actually want me to stay.

^^ So with that said, here is a second chapter of FE, a day early again, just `cause I love you guys.

Oh, should warn you though, kinda dark and angst-filled.

----

Rain fell like sheets of icy death from the dark sky and the lightning clashed overhead, sending a roaring rumble through the background, and covering the sound of Robin's attempts to continue breathing through the blood that oozed from the torn bullet hole under herchin, but to no avail.

Blood continued to poor from Robin's throat and she gave a raspy, half-breath as she fought to stay awake. Fought to stay alive. She lay on the ground, pooled in her own blood and the icy rain water that now covered the roof. Michael was down on his knees, his hands covered in a mixture of his lover's blood and his own.

"Damn you!" Michael shouted at the figure in the darkness. The man was huge. Built like a football player, which he had once been. His hair was short and brown and his eyes were dark. The eyes were no longer blue but now glowing with the eerie black light.

The man smirked and spoke in two separate voices at once. "Blood has been paid Campbell. Now we can both rest at easy."

"Stop it!" Michael cried, a mixture of tears and rain running down his face. "I'm not Campbell dammit!"

"Of course not puppy." David Rica said from where he stood leaning against the wall, next to where Sakaki and Doujima lay lifelessin each other's arms. "But that doesn't matter to him. He's crazier than I am, and that's saying somethin'."

Michael ignored the words of Rica as he looked down at the dying girl in his arms. His dying Robin who he loved more than he had ever loved anyone before. She was almost dead now, almost drained of all life..

And then the debt would be paid.

"I know its hard puppy." Rica said in a fake-sympathetic tone. "But you know once she dies the rest of your friends can live."He glanced down at Sakaki and Doujima's dead bodies. "Well, all the rest of your friends but those puppies."

"No." Michael cried. "Take me instead. Take me instead damn it."

The unknown man with the black eyes shook his head. He spoke once again, in two voices. Two different, but equally evil voices.

"No Campbell. I take Rosalind from you now, as you took her from meone hundred years ago."

"SHE IS NOT ROSALIND!" Michael screamed. "SHE'S ROBIN!"

"Puppy, why do you even try?" David Rica said from behind as he shook his smug-smiling head. "Why do you even pretend to think she'll live? She is already on her way to hell. Except it. She dies so that many more may live."

"SHE IS NOT GOING TO DIE!" Michael screamed over his shoulder towards Rica. "I WON'T LET HER DIE!"

The unknown man shook his head.

David Rica laughed once again.

And thenRobin Sena died in his arms.

Michael blazed awake, his entire body dripping in cold sweat. His sky blue eyes were out of focus and the horrific images of Robin's death were still blazing in his mind and his breath caught in his throat. Even though it was just a dream it scared him something deeply.

There was a sound of footsteps suddenly and a moment later light filled Michael's eyes as the high lights above him turned on. He blinked a few times as he tried to adjust to the newfound shining luminosity. There was a moment, while his eyes were shut, when he could hear Robin's tiny feet running to the couch where he was lying and when he next opened his eyes the blurry vision of the blonde girl was floating before him.

"Michael." She said quietly, placing a tiny hand on his shoulder.

Michael blinked a few more times as his eyes finally finished the adjustment. He sighed and shook his head. The vision of a dead Robin in his arms, blood flowing over them both was still fresh in his mind.

"Nothing. Just a nightmare." He said in answer to her unasked question.

"You screamed." Robin said quietly.

Michael said nothing; he only shook his head, wanting nothing more than to make the memories of his dream go away from his mind. He did not want to see a dying Robin, or the strange brown haired man, or David Rica ever again. He didn't want to see that rainy rooftop.

He looked up at Robin, who had a worried look on her face. The seventeen-year-old hacker only shook his head one more time. He couldn't look at her beautiful, young face right now. Not while he still saw that same beautiful, young face, only covered in thick red blood every time he closed his eyes.

Michael was shaken from his memories at the touch of Robin's soft lips on his cheek. Her kiss was like silk that made his entire body go numb with a mixture of pleasure and comfort. She had the unnatural ability to calm him down, no matter how horrible things became for him.

"I love you." Michael whispered as he continued to look away from her young face.

Robin smiled.

----

Haruto Sakaki had twelve days left until he had to go back to work.

Really it was eleven, seeing as how the current date was 11:58pm, on December 20th, 2002. The seventeen-year-old hunter would have been sleeping by now normally, but not on this day. Not on December 20th. He hadn't slept on this day for nine years.

Sakaki's apartment was small, but it was also the cheapest place he could find that wasn't completely nasty and unbearable. He had a small room that was supposed to be a kitchen, an even smaller bathroom, and then a living and bed room. That was all. But he worked seven days a week and spent most of his time off away from this place, so he didn't really mind.

He had a TV, and a computer and a bed of course, but that was really it. A cheap George Foreman grill that served as his chief source of food was placed on the kitchen counter next to the sink.

Right now however he was lying in bed. The lights were off and he had already stripped down to his boxers and was lying under the blanket, his blue eyes staring fixedly at the digital alarm clock beside his bed. The green letters said 11:59:23 and he watched, counting the milliseconds before he could sleep.

Counting the milliseconds before he'd be past the anniversary of his mother's birthday, and also of the day she had been murdered by his father.

Just as the clock reached 11:59:54 he heard the unmistakable sound of his front door opening, which instantly made him reach his left hand under his pillow where he kept his gun. It wasn't the Orbo gun he used at work; this was just a nine millimeter he'd bought after he was shot by David Rica. Once he knew just how painful being shot was he had wanted a gun for home so he could avoid feeling that pain again when he cornered a burglar unarmed.

Of course the person who appeared at Sakaki's bedroom doorway wasn't a murderer, or serial killer, or rapist or child molester or drug addict or hippie or communist or terrorist or any of the other things that pass through your mind when your house is broken into.

It was worse.

It was Yurika Doujima, and her eyes had a look of burning rage in them that he had seen only once before - the day at the hospital when she'd slapped Rica three months before.

"Yuri-chan, hey." He said meekly. Normally he would have sounded a bit more upset at the fact Doujima had appeared in the middle of the night unannounced, but he knew that look and he just hoped to get out of this ordeal without being hit.

"Don't you dare call me Yuri you stupid son of a bitch." Doujima sneered.

Sakaki swallowed. "Err . . . did I do something to upset you?"

Doujima narrowed her blue eyes that burnt with an icy rage. "You're cheating on me Sakaki." Then, a moment later she added: "Or you were cheating on me back when I was your girlfriend."

Now it was Sakaki's turn to be taken aback. "What? I am not!"

Doujima shot him a glance so cold it felt like a thousand tiny knives made of pure ice were shooting into his spine and freezing his blood as they drilled it out of him.

"My friend Seto called me tonight. He recognized you in the flower shop today, buying roses. He called to tease me and ask if you got lucky, and you know Sakaki, I'd kind of like to know, did you? Who's the slut you're seeing behind my back?"

Suddenly a look of understanding passed over Sakaki's face and he felt a cold chill pass over his heart. Guilt was overwhelming him; of course it wasn't the guilt she thought it was. It wasn't guilt because those flowers were for another woman, it was guilt from the fact he didn't tell her who they were for.

"Well?" Doujima asked angrily, tapping her foot on the floor as she pursed her lips and placed her hands on her hips.

"They were for my mother." Sakaki said quietly. "She died nine years ago. Yesterday was her birthday."

At first Doujima's face didn't change one bit, unless it became madder, obviously because she thought he was lying. That was until she saw the look in his eyes. That horrible look of pure fear she had seen only once before. When they had been trapped in a bathroom together on their way to hunt David Rica, and he had awoken from an obvious nightmare.

Suddenly she knew he was telling the truth and all the anger left her body at the speed of light, instead being replaced with guilt, sorrow and pity. She slowly sat down on the edge of the bed and began to stare at her feet.

"Gomen. Gomen nasai." She said at length, no longer looking at him.

"No." Sakaki said quietly. "I should have told you. I just . . ."

"It's okay." Doujima said, suddenly feeling very bad about coming here at all. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"No. I should just tell you." Sakaki said. "Nine years ago, when I was just a kid. It was my mother's birthday. I had been saving all the change I could get my hands on for months to buy her a present."

Sakaki stopped, now looking down at his hands.

"You don't have too-"

"No." Sakaki waved her off. "I went to the store that morning. I bought her this pretty necklace. It was just a cheap little thing, but I thought it would have looked good on her. I, I came home and I found the door was open. I thought maybe she was expecting me. But . . ."

He broke off, his voice now nothing but a terrified whisper. Doujima felt horrible now. Sakaki was not the kind of person who cried, he was not the person who wore his emotions on his sleeves. He was much more emotional than Amon, but he was still closed up. And yet now . . . he was on the verge of sobbing tears.

"I walked into the living room and . . . and there was my father. I hadn't seen him in years. He used to beat us. My ma' and me. We moved to Tokyo when I was six to get away from him. I didn't remember him well, but I knew who he was instantly. He was . . . he was all covered in blood. And he told me to come with him. And I said no. I asked him where mom was. And you know what he said? Do you know what that sick bastard said to his ten year old son?"

Sakaki looked up at his girlfriend's face, and behind the tears that soaked his cheeks and covered his eyes Doujima could see a horrible memory that would never be forgotten, no matter how hard he tried.

"He pointed all around me. He pointed at the walls. That's when I noticed them. All the walls were covered in blood. And he says `you're mama? She's everywhere'. And then he laughed. He stood there and he laughed. He laughed like the fucking bastard he was."

Sakaki paused for a few moments in which the only sound was the sound of his tears and the echo of Doujima chewing her lip.

"And then I attacked him. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to kill him."

"What happened?" Doujima asked quietly. During the course of the story she had moved over next to him and was now hugging him as tightly as she could. He was sobbing into her shoulder.

"He beat me. He beat me till I was covered in blood. He would have killed me but then he got shot. Someone shot him. I guess it was the police, I really don't remember. All I know is he got crazy. When I woke up I was in a hospital. The policeman told me my father had run away. I haven't seen him since."

When Sakaki had finished his story Doujima's face was covered in tears just like his own. She started to say something but he shook his head.

"You should go Yuri. I need to be alone for a while. I'll call you tomorrow."

Doujima sighed, she obviously disagreed with what he had just said completely, feeling that being alone was the last thing he needed, but she had no right to question his decision.

"Okay. I love you."

"I know." Sakaki said grimly.

Doujima sighed and stood up slowly, her blue eyes watching Sakaki's sad form as she disappeared through his bedroom door and then out the front one only seconds later.

Sakaki said nothing as he fell back into his pillows. He had lied to her. Not about his story. It was true. Every last word of the story was true except for the part where he said it had been the police who saved his life from his father.

It hadn't been the police. It had been Solomon.

Because Kichiro Wantanabee, Sakaki's father, was a Witch.

----

It was late, and at last Michael had gone back to sleep.

Sleep free from the sight of Robin dying, or the sound of David Rica laughing or the smell of blood as it poured from his lover's throat onto his hands. He did dream about Robin as he slept, but she was not dead in this dream. In this dream she was very much alive, and doing the most interesting trick Michael had ever seen which involved a strawberry and a part of her body . . .

While Michael slept once again, still sleeping on a spare futon Touko had dug out of her closer, Touko herself was very much awake. It was late now, 1:21am. Right now Doujima was just leaving Sakaki's house, after learning the truth about his father. And while Doujima did that, Touko was getting dressed.

Nothing fancy, she decided at last. Amon hadn't exactly sounded too happy over the phone, but then again Amon had never sounded too happy exactly. Even during their love making. Still, she didn't think it was bad news that he had called her.

Slipping into a simple black dress she'd bought a week ago, and wrapping herself in her coat for warmth, Touko crept past the couch where Michael slept and towards the front door. When she opened it she gave a small gasp to find Amon already standing in the hallway. His face was expressionless and he didn't even say so much as a hello to her.

"I thought we were going to meet at the park." Touko said quietly, closing the door behind her so that Michael could not hear them if he woke up.

"I don't think we should see each other anymore." Amon said his voice no different than it ever was. All emotion was drained from his face, as was per usual.

Touko didn't seam surprised. "I see. May I ask why?"

Amon said nothing for a moment. His face showed the slightest hint of some feeling for a moment behind his dark eyes before he finally answered her question. "I just don't think it's a good idea."

"You mean." Touko said quietly. "That you don't want to make me chose between you or my father."

Amon said nothing.

"It is okay, I understand." She leaned in and kissed his cheek softly. "Maybe someday."

Amon didn't say anything, but he seriously doubted the day she spoke of would ever come.

----

Kenny wasn't even fazed by the blood anymore.

Kenny Avery was New York City's top Homicide detective. He had seen everything in the book and was more than used to the unnatural and unexplained deaths that were frequent. He even knew about the existence of Solomon and Witches, even though he wasn't a seed or a hunter.

New York City. The call it the city that never sleeps. They also call it the greatest city in the world. Kenny was sure no one would call it the last nickname if they had his job. Personally he thought it was the greatest city, even if he did spend six out of seven days a week looking at dead body after dead body.

Now however Kenny wasn't interested in these things. He wasn't even in New York. He was down in New Orleans, Louisiana, the city his family was original from. He loved the bayou. It was always great down there. And the catfish was wonderful.

And fortunately for him, the man he was meeting for dinner was currently eating Catfish.

The house was the stereotype of a New Orleans native during the civil war. Colonel Sanders himself could have lived there, raising his chickens and frying them for dinner all around. Of course the Colonel was from Kentucky, (or at least his fast food chain was) but that didn't matter to most who saw it.

It was huge and made from oak, sitting right smack down in the Bayou. The smell of Cajun cooking was an overpowering odor in the air at the home of Charles Calypso.

On the outside the gardens were well kept, and the paint was always fresh and white. But on the inside the house was dark, lights were non-existent. Only old candles illuminating the blackness. The main hallway had two doors to either side, the one of the left led to the ballroom, and the one of the right led to a sitting lounge that contained a chair, grandfather clock and an old couch like the kind psychiatrist use.

Cobwebs and spiders were a common site downstairs, but upstairs there was no light. Up the dark, poorly painted staircase. The stairs were at the end of the main hallway from in front of the front door.

Kenny didn't like the mansion but he wasn't here out of choice either. The man on the other end of the phone call two days ago had point blank given him a choice. Kenny could come down to New Orleans, and then proceed to London and finally Tokyo or the stranger on the phone would show Kenny's wife some photos of Kenny at a strip club.

Kenny sighed. He hadn't cheated on his wife in over five years, and while he had vowed never to do so again, he also had neglected to tell her he had ever done so. That was something he was saving until he was on his death bed.

With another sigh Kenny walked into the Kitchen of the old Louisiana mansion to find several candles illuminated the room.

The man who stood in the kitchen preparing the catfish waved to Kenny and bid him hello in a thick accent. The man had trimmed black hair and a handsome face beneath a pair of dark sunglasses. The man had a pointed nose and a big chin. Between the two were his pale lips, which currently wore a smug smile.

"Do you like catfish, lil' puppy?" David Rica asked as he welcomed Kenny to his house.

-------------------

*listening to Chris Cagel's Chicks Dig It*

*evil smile*

I do hope everyone enjoyed this chapter.

A bit slow paced, yes, I know.

But you got to see what Michael dreams about at nighttime,

And you got to hear Sakaki's whole sad story.

And I'm not commenting on the ending where you saw the evilest bastard in New Orleans alive-and-well once again.

Oh. I think I did comment on it.

^_-

More FE coming soon.

And more Coffee and Donuts is coming soon too.

And one last note about F&R's DVD bonus, Heh, I'm glad everyone enjoyed it and thought it funny.

Honestly the comments I got on it . . .

I may start making a weekly comedy fic like it, if you readers would enjoy something like that.

Anyway, I must go now.

Ja Ne

~ Golden-sama