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Post Reply ❚❙❙ {Project 02} Crossing Past
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Posted 7/6/14 , edited 10/24/14


"Sir, there is a call for you at the front desk," a hotel staff approached Sir Secondo.

Surprised and a little suspicious, he rose from his seats and followed the staff out of the ballroom. As the door closed on the noisy party, he was met with a forbidding silence. The staff ushered him wordlessly to a ringing desk phone.

"Sir Secondo speaking."

"It's disastrous!" a slightly hysterical female voice shrieked. "the bathroom...a man had water...and the girl ran off...there was a flood...blood...the room got broken into...i can't do this!"

"Darling, baby," Sir Secondo tried in a calm voice, his eyes checking his environment. His only company was an uninterested hotel staff. "I will be joining you upstairs."

"No! I will be fine! This second murder...I will just wait for Pan...You need to find the girl! Also, why can't I get through you via Ace?"

Sir Secondo hung the phone up. She had talked too much on an insecure line. He tapped his headset surreptitiously. It was dead. Pan should have arrived now. Without Ace, they need to rely on their second option - old fashioned radio waves. The team jad undergone courses on building one out of any electronic device in the outfield.

In the meanwhile, his utmost concern was the safety of the runaway princess. She should have known better and stayed put.

"What a troublemaker."


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Posted 7/6/14

Renee unlocked the door to her suite and wobbled her way to the couch. She desperately searched through the small bag on the coffee table for her allergic medication and having found them, she swallowed the pills without the aid of water. She had no idea what was going on. With a hand over her abdomen, she couldn't help but pressed on it, applying some pressure to relief the pain it gave.

For a full long moment, Renee stayed still as she breathed in and out evenly - calming her nerves as she put her body at rest. The pain and discomfort soon subsided and Renee was herself again though she swore she tasted blood down her throat. Standing up only to realise she'd left her stuff in the couple's suite, Renee groaned to her clumsiness. She couldn't work well when she's clumsy - but she will try her best to avoid.

But when she realised her phone was among the stuff she left in the couple's room, she panicked. She raced to the suite's antique old phone and started spinning the dial plate to a set of familiar numbers - and slammed the handle back to its body as she realised she'd set her phone to silent mode due to the welcoming banquet.

"Great," she was peeved at herself. "Just great."

Renee plodded her way out of her suite once more (in a new pair of heels) as she headed back to the couple's suite. Renee stopped at the front of the elevator door and pressed the down button. She blushed when she thought of interrupting the couple in the middle of their hot and intimate time together but she can't allow her phone to leave her side much longer. And her blush went redder when she recalled that soft, possessive touch of the man from her dream......

The bell ring marking the arrival of the elevator at her floor brought Renee back to reality. The door opened and she found herself staring at a familiar looking man from that day.



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Posted 7/6/14 , edited 7/6/14


Hexane took deep breaths to calm her nerves. She often brought diazepam pills on long trips but this mission required her on clean records. Vision blurring, she moved towards the gory scene in the bathroom with an unsteady gait. The soft whirring of the electronics in the room mixed annoyingly with the humming of the air conditioning. Clambering for support from the door frame of the bathroom, she rested her head on her raised hand. The sight of the swelling body as the shower fed the corpse with copious amount of water had her feeling nauseous. She reached out for her handheld communication phone in her stockings and dialled. The engaged tone reminded her they were cut off from the satellite services. Panting heavily, she reached forward to turn the water gauge to a shut before collapsing on the wet bathroom floor.

"Help..." she softly cried out.

Unbeknownst to her, a youth with rubber soles for silent movement creeped up behind her. He raised a blunt weapon above her head and before she had time to notice, she heard a hard crack of skull. By work instinct, Hexane swerved around to slam her back on the bath tub while steadying herself for defence.

"Pan!"

A boyish narrow black waist of a woman stood over Hexane's attacker with a table lamb in her hands. He was clad in a waiter uniform and blood was streaming from the back of his head, diluting into the pool of water below. The black, skin-hugging leather suit woman rushed to Hexane's aid.

"Come on! We got to seal off this room!" Pan informed her anxiously, putting an arm under Hexane's back and pulling her up to her feet.

Pan moved both of them to the living room and sealed off the bedroom with thick tape. Hexane fell asleep on the couch as Pan dismantled whatever electronic devices she could find in the room and build two walkie-talkies. Low-tech but useful, no doubt. Let's hope Sir Secondo remembers to meet up soon.

"My luck seemed to be turning," Sir Secondo commented in an undertone as he rested his hands by his sides.

He smiled with ease and raised his eyebrows at the approaching maiden.

"Why...if it isn't the young lady I bumped into earlier...Please forgive my rudeness but you seemed to be in need of help?" he inquired politely, taking in the strange sight of her.


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Posted 7/6/14 , edited 10/31/14

Renee raised an eyebrow and her eyes widened - but her confused face was well hidden behind the magnificent mask she wore. Why is he here!?

Taking a step into the elevator, her mind was full of doubts and questions. He didn't looked like he was here to return her belongings. She looked up at the number screen before regaining her composure and brushed aside her confusion.

"Well yes, I was on my way to your suite..... actually I left something behind with Lady Won as I left in a hurry back then," she said with a smile. "But why are you here?"

She doubted he could come out of bath and caught up to her this fast. His sudden appearance here didn't piece up with the events in his suite and this stirred up some suspicion in Renee. Who was in the bathroom back there?

She turned to look at Sir Secondo - hoping to see his expression. For a short split moment, she thought she saw Punk standing beside her instead of Sir Secondo. She blinked and gave a sigh of relief to find that it was Sir Secondo after all - with that normal brown hair. How could she hallucinate seeing that officer?

Renee eyed him for a moment. Sir Secondo had a much graceful and charming aura as compared to Punk. Punk, on the other hand, was hard to predict; although he could be rather caring in his own way, but he's not one for Renee to like. But still, it was an undeniable truth that he held her attention and she wanted to know him more. Sir Secondo, for a moment do looked like Punk in a way to which the young heiress brushed off with a small smile. So many miles across the sea far away from the East nation and yet if she stumbled upon him here, Renee would start to believe if she'd ever owed anything to him in the past to deserve such a fate.

Just then she felt the same sensation from earlier. She moved a hand up to her forehead. Something still didn't feel right. Her vision was spinning in slow motion and she could barely feel her legs. Her eyes looked away from him and explored the elevator; allowing the sensation to pass on her. Renee tried keeping a calm face as if nothing was bothering her.

But something was bothering her, in and out.

And she didn't like it.



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Posted 7/8/14 , edited 7/11/14


Strange memories were filling her mind. Renee felt herself being supported by the arms.

"My Lady, are you feeling unwell? Perhaps, it would be better to call for your butler or body guard?" Sir Secondo's voice was warm and concerned. "Where would I find him? Here, take a seat."

His hand took hers and guided her over an embroidery cushion. He kept reassuring her that help would come soon and inquired repeatedly for her servant.



Much to his surprise, her sleek fingers was icy cold to his touch. He was deeply reminded of touching a block of ice instead.
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His sudden touch; taking her hand in his reminded Renee of how Punk had took her hands back when he rescued her. Renee liked the warmth of his hand and wished that he could hold her forever. But the strange uncomfortable memory continue to flood into her mind and the warmth she felt was soon lost in a sea of confusion. Unbeknownst to Sir Secondo, his words were stirring in her mind, mixing with the strange images - causing a great confusion along with her migraine. Renee tried waving him off to no avail as his hand held hers firmly. She felt the world spinning in a greater momentum. She needed peace yet he was nosy, and noisy too. Almost reaching her breaking point, she caught hold of that one movement that she could identified and focused on it. When her clouded mind was finally clearing off, and the pain slowly vanished, only had she realised she was seated on a cushion along the suite hallway - holding Sir Secondo's wrist tightly.

Her eyes crawled up to his and she quickly let go of his hand. "So - sorry."

It was only then that she realised they were out of the elevator. And when he inquired for her bodyguard again, she felt something was not quite right. She stood up and took a few steps aback.

How did he know Sebastian was just a butler cum bodyguard? she found herself wondering, her eyes narrowed at the man standing before her. It was not mentioned any where in regards to each guests' relationship - only the staffs would know about it.

"Well, thanks for your concern but I am fine," she said, building a defensive wall between the both of them. "Just a mere nausea, it will pass on after a rest. You, sir, however should get back to your fiancee. And I really need my phone right now. I have an important message to send. Can you guide me to your suite? I will get my bodyguard once I have my phone."

Hoping her lie to get her bodyguard would sound plausible to Sir Secondo, she cautiously turned around and walked to the elevator.



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Sir Secondo remained unmoved. His eyes narrowed dangerously at the small back of the Heiress. He stole a glance at the suspicious hotel staff who quickly pretended to dial a number on the office phone.

"Why exactly...no...what are you trying to imply here?" he asked quietly, his low voice tinged with wariness. "A little girl instigating her presence in my suite? If so, why am I uninformed and should I be allowing you to walk freely into my private suite?"

The still air lay akin to his cold demeanour. Sir Secondo clearly was not having a good day. The young sole heir of Magna Square Corporation shared his annoyance at interferences.

"I told you to leave me alone!" he snarled at the shivering hotel manager as he closed the door to his private chamber.

"Master Timothy, please forgive me! The party is requesting your presence!"

The heir pushed past the manager and stomped impatiently to the ballroom. Whatever do they want at such a late hour? A final toast?

If only he had been more civil in his manners, he could have caught the manager pulling a syringe from underneath the coat with his trembling hands.

Timothy took a deep breath before pushing past the ornate gold doors to the ballroom. He cursed as the whole ballroom was dark and still. His eyes was still untrained in the darkness when a flash of spotlight blinded him. Shielding his eyes, he heard a booming voice of an unknown host.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, with or final VIP here, we can began the auction! Close the doors!" another spotlight fell on a man in tailcoat with a black-and-white mask, waving his arms leisurely.

Timothy felt himself being pushed aside for the orate doors to be shut tightly.

"What is going on here?" he shouted over the captivated audience.

No one paid any heed. Every distinguished guests' eyes fell on a prism emerging from the centerstage, casting kaleidoscope of colors on the dance floor.

"Be assured this is no normal gem. It's the very embodiment of ecstasy!"
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Posted 7/16/14 , edited 11/6/14

Raising an eyebrow, Renesmee turned around and faced her company. The sudden change of atmosphere and his sudden change of mood reminded her very much of a man she knew personally.

"Excuse me?"

She raised a finger and looked away, finding the right term to counter-attack him. "I think you get me wrong....I-"

She trailed off. She was deeply reminded of the similar event in that police patrol box with a certain tu-tone haired officer. The outstretched hand, the mouth that kept demanding for the phone and the provoked man. It all seemed a little too familiar. And experience taught her it won't work. This man was a little like Punk - and if she stayed stubborn, he might end up acting like him. Taking in a long deep breath, she calmed her nerves - recollecting her sentences before taking off her mask and looked up into his eyes. She didn't bother to expose her looks to him. She had something way more important than an identity to look after.

"I just want my phone back. I have a friend and there's something I must tell him whether he's aware of it or not," she said - her stand as steady as her calm voice. "He had been there for me when I was in danger, he continued to treat me indifferently even though he knew who I was and yes, he is an idiot - the king of mood swings."

"But now he could be in some trouble when he thought I was the one in trouble. I know a little girl like me can't do much. I can't save him. I can't use the gun right, I can't even fight. He'll probably see me as a troublemaker, but...." A few droplets of tears fell off from her clear, calm eyes. "I can't stop worrying about him. I just......I just can't leave Punk when he'd never left me in the first place."

"So please," Renesmee bowed low - an unlikely action of a high lady to show that she meant it. "I beg of you ..... It's either in your suite, or your fiancee's - if you both do not share the same room. What ever is it, you may ask your fiancee - she can prove that I'm not lying. I really need to get to him! He's-"

Renee trailed off once more. Who is he? What is he? Renee closed her mouth with a hand as she started coughing again, hoping to cover up from looking any sicker to the lad before her. When the coughing ended, Renee thanked the seventh heaven that she had not vomited any blood like she did earlier in his (or Lady Won's) suite but she swore she could taste her blood down her throat.

The hotel staff who continued to spy on them from the corner narrowed his eyes to take a good look at the young lady. He could identify the silver haired lady as the one his partner had poisoned with "Raws" (Their invention). Seeing her face now, he confirmed his guesses earlier - it was the lady on their target's moped the other night.

The hotel staff raised an eyebrow - his only surprise was that the effect of the poison was working a little fast on her. His thoughts wondered off to the final toast down in the ballroom - how he wished to join in the fun but he had to keep watch on the odd couple.

Children's laughter echoed in the ballroom as everything stirred in a colourful event. Timothy recognised the children's voice - they belonged to the group of orphans he secretly brought in to be sold off in the underground auction tomorrow night. What are they doing here? Who brought them into the hotel?

Then he felt something sharp piercing into his neck. He strained a little to look at his manager who stabbed a syringe into his neck. With disturbed yet alerted eyes, Timothy tried to threaten him with his infamous killer stare but to no avail. The trembling manager gathered all his courage and pushed the plunger in.







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"A charred corpse?" a drowsy voice carried across the quiet suite.

The inquirer sat up slowly to face her companion (who was dawdling in the kitchen for unknown reasons).

"Yes. I tried entering the building through the air vents and took a miscalculated step - fell through an unhinged vent. Found myself in the circuit room. It was strange. I examined the body. It had not been electrocuted. It was burnt. I can still smell it," Pan replied with detest.

The awakened Hexane closed her eyes as a pulsing headache hit her. "Ah. Such tragedy."

"What do we do now?"

Pan stopped skimming over the mess in the kitchen. "Are you well enough? Punk is late. We should get moving instead. Staying in the same suite as a bloated corpse gives me a bad feelings."

Hexane got up slowly. "Let's start packing."

Meanwhile, the ladies' boss was having a hard time at the lobby trying to throw off the hotel staff's suspicion of their mistakable relationship. Furthermore, it seemed the heiress-in-question was in worst condition. We need to get out of here...and fast!

Choosing to ignore the obvious, Sir Secondo stared the Princess down and spoke in a low tone.

"How presumptuous of you to think my suite holds your phone. I do not know what my sickly fiancée has done but I can assure you she is the most honest maiden I have met. You owe me an apology, little girl. Follow me. Let us bring your hysterics to an end with some nonexistent evidence upstairs."

He side-stepped her and strode to open the lift door.

"What are you waiting for?"

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Posted 7/18/14 , edited 7/19/14

She looked at him and then at the carpeted floor of the luxurious elevator. She was feeling a little warm but there was an intermittent random cold tingling down her nerves. Touching her own skin, she could feel them icy cold.

"Yeah," she recalled the look on Lady Won when Renesmee first saw her. "She's really beautiful too. You're really lucky."

Sir Secondo's comments on his fiancee and how he'd taken her stand was touching. It hurts Renee though for some reason - unsure if it was because she was jealous of Lady Won or the fact that he was very confident that her phone is not in their suite. She felt extremely down of all sudden - her phone does not only keep all her personal songs, it also held her only picture taken with her mother while she was still an infant.

"It must be great to have someone you really loves," she said - there was a vast difference in her tone. While she was more confident and energetic back when she demanded for her phone, her voice now had clearly softened - and sounded a lot sicker. "But I'm still not lying. Your angel will prove that I was in her room. And I will prove my innocence with my life."

With a huge friendly smile - as if this would be the last smile she could form a smile, she took a step in. It was quiet - awkward silence between them as the lift silently crept up the hotel. Renee continued to press on her abdomen. The discomfort returned and she could barely hold in any longer. Standing behind Sir Secondo, she was as quiet as the mouse - trying not to bring her internal struggle to his attention. It was getting slightly harder for her to breath properly, yet her mind tried recalling the food she'd consumed earlier that day. When it snapped her that the red wine had an unusual taste to it, it was too late then. Darkness took over her and the unconscious princess fell down - hitting her head hard against the wall of the lift in the process. Her distorted face would tell anyone that she was struggling hard to fight the pain. She was paler by the second; her usually visible pink rosy cheeks disappeared - looking very, very sick.
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Posted 7/20/14 , edited 11/14/14




Sir Secondo lifted the heiress without question and quietly headed off to his suite. He stopped in his tracks when he felt the cold nozzle pressed on the back of his head.

"I was beginning to think you have died in some grotesque manner," a cool female voice said.

"Is that how you address your senior?" Sir Secondo replied in an indifferent Punk voice. "You are late."

"And so are you. I carry vital information only to find an unconscious Lady Won and her man returning with another woman in his arms."

"Lady Won? I assure you it's all a misunderstanding, Pan."

With that, Punk turned around with his usual grin, paying little heed to the danger standing between his eyes. "It was all too much a convenience. I was simply finding a broom cupboard to stuff this hindrance and head for my fiancée in the bedroom."

Pan stashed her gun safely in the holster between her legs. "I can assure you that the bedroom is sealed off. From what gather from poor Hexane, these murders are not random. I suspect the third to be one of our missing suspects. No doubt another entertainer."

"What? There is a third?" Punk looked alarmed. "This hallway is too exposed. Get her. We are moving to another room."

Pan gave a rare knowing smile. "That is my boss. But I have already prepared everything, slowpoke."

She waved a blank key card in his face. Punk returned the smile and followed her to the opposite suite. It was occupied a few hours earlier but the owner of the suite must be attending the party downstairs. As Punk had the discontented Hexane to monitor the sickly heiress, he ran through the murder scenes with Pan.

Pacing around the room, Punk thought aloud, "the first victim was hung with unusually contorted expression. the second was drowned to the point of bursting from excess body water. And third was burnt. Angry...bloating...incineration...Oh no..."

"What is it, Punk?" Pan probed with interest. "Is it revenge?"

Brows furrowed, Punk muttered, "it can't be...such a coincidence..."

"Punk! What is the problem?" Hexane asked worriedly, realizing the sudden hunch in Punk's back.

He was not one to lose composure.

"Punk?"

There was a long pause as both conscious women observed him warily. Rage was slowly lighting his maroon eyes.

"Pack up! The auction is not safe house! Pan bring out the big guns! Hexane, I am really sorry but it's a selfish request. Find out what's wrong with her and get her bodyguard. Get her out of the way! Then, find us with this-" Punk threw a walkie-talkie Pan put together earlier. "Let's go, Pan!"

Pan nodded and left the suite without looking back. Punk's rushed orders was a bad omen - something must be falling out of his predictions. The duo took the emergency staircase to the ballroom. Punk kept checking his headset. It was still malfunctioning. Outside the side entrance of the ballroom, Pan took the cue to knock out a guard. Punk hurried behind her and set down their bag of equipments. Pan helped Punk set up the tazer gun and tiny electronic equipments essential for break in and escape.

"Punk...is this really necessary? For all we know, it could be the usual auction. And we are going to burst in with so much destruction! What would the Chief say if she knew about this!" Pan tried to warn the delirious Punk.

Punk kept his silence and slapped a gas mask in her breasts.

"There are way too many invariables. Too many guards, strange hotel staffs and surrender of electronic devices at the entrance. And for such an exciting auction, it sure is very quiet inside," Punk explained as he charged his side-arm. "Pan, I will hold myself personally responsible for this raid. Shoot anyone suspicious. Staff or guest. Are you ready?"

The shocked Pan nodded slowly. Punk's eyes softened and put a reassuring hand on her right shoulders. "I will keep you safe. Damn. I will keep us all safe. Trust me."

Pan's resolve solidified a little more and waited for Punk's cue. "NOW!"

The duo plunge themselves into sudden darkness.





Meanwhile, Hexane was cursing her fate. First, her headache. Second, another headache but this time, the cause was a helpless heiress and her missing bodyguard. I should be downstairs helping them with the raid!

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Posted 7/20/14 , edited 7/21/14

Hexane looked down at the sleeping beauty when she suddenly coughed - and droplets of blood stained a small corner of the blanket. Hexane moved in to examine the girl. One look at her told Hexane that the girl was suffering from an unusual malady. Hexane moved in closer but stopped midway when she heard footsteps arriving at the door of the suite. The owner of the suite had returned!

Without much consideration, she quickly hid herself into the wardrobe - staying put to watch out the situation. She didn't have enough time to drag the young heiress in with her and pulling out a dagger, she was prepared to attack the owner when the coast is clear. The door opened and the footsteps closed in to the bed where the young heiress-in-question laid asleep. To her surprise, the man in black was the young heiress' bodyguard.

He walked over to the young lady's side and stared down at her - his face clearly shown suspicion as to how his lady ended up in his suite. He scanned the room, there wasn't much sign of broken in to - and his gaze turned sharply towards the wardrobe. The killer aura radiated from him was unmistakable as he slowly walked towards it. Reaching the front of the wardrobe, Hexane could clearly see from the gap that he was pulling out a dagger from inside his suit - both of them prepared to initiate a fight until a sudden voice surprised them.

"Sebastian."

Sebastian hid his dagger and quickly turn around to face his mistress. Renesmee was well seated on the bed with her hands behind her; turning the blood-stained corner of the blanket aside (to hide it from Sebastian).

"Milady," he spoke as he bowed low. "How did you end up in my room?"

Renesmee's eyes followed him going down and then looked up at the wardrobe.

"Hotel staff. They found me a lil unwell."

The young heiress was partially awoke when they started discussing of the murder. Her hands gripped the crumbled corner of the blanket tightly - she regretted not being able to hold in from coughing blood. She was angry and hurt - the Sir Secondo was such a good liar with absolute perfect disguise skill.

"Unwell?" Sebastian looked up at his lady. "Allergic attack? Or nausea? Or the red wine the red-headed waiter served you earlier is acting up?"

Renee flashed her eyes at him at the mention of 'red wine'. Wine would go bad, in fact any wine would but Renesmee was sure it looked red-blood clear; there was no change of colour nor does it looked cloudy. The wine didn't taste rancid either - it just had an 'extra' taste; one that she couldn't tell what.

"Milady," a worried Sebastian interrupted her train of thoughts. "Should we get you to the hospital?"

Get her out of the way! She recalled Punk calling out to a woman named Hexane; which Renee guessed to be Lady Won, his beautiful fiancee - the one hiding in the wardrobe.

As you wished, her monologue spoke. The whole evening she was searching for her phone just to inform him that he might be in danger and on top of that, she even spilled out her worries for him - in his face! And he remained poker faced. He must had enjoyed the show.

"Someone is probably laughing at how naive I was, why did I even bother worrying for him when I know he won't care!?" Renee spoke softly as she looked up at her bodyguard - who was surprised that she was crying. "I'm tired. Let's leave this island, now."

"But the auction-"

"I will hold every responsible."

"Yes, milady."

Nodding to her sudden request, Sebastian did a quick pack up and headed towards the door. Renee walked to the wardrobe, stopping a few steps away just so Hexane could hear her soft whisper.

"He needs you."

Renee was still worried about the stalkers issue but as she turned away to her bodyguard, she felt that she didn't had to ask his fiancee to take care of him. Surely she would watch over him at all cost. In situations like this, Punk would need his woman by his side. Renee is not needed, never was and never will. There was no space for her to be in his circle anyway. His prejudice of her will never fade off no matter how much Renee tried, she realised, unless she dies.

They're from two very different world - with both of them unable to understand one another.
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Posted 7/23/14 , edited 11/14/14


Hexane pushed the wardrobe gently, stealthily entering the occupied bedroom. Her presence drew alarming response but she stayed calm.

"I would advise against that. My team has everything under control More importantly, as a butler or bodyguard, should you not be more concerned of your charge's safety? She is hurt and a liability in such a dangerous situation. No, I should be more clear. She is poisoned."

The Narcotics team was down to a strength of two and Punk was painfully aware of that. After he hid the unconscious body of the questionable guard, he straightened his tuxedo and opened the door to the auction slightly. Pan has fallen into the shadows but he knew she had his back. The pitch black stillness piqued his curiosity - he had calculated his entrance would be at the exact same time as the presentation of the highlight that night. His hand positioned discreetly at his silver gun hidden behind his back. He could sense the presence of the auction attendees but not their breathing. There was a tinge of sweet scent. Not of perfumed flowers or air freshener but a sickly sweet one.

Without warning, a spotlight fell sharply on him, blinding him momentarily. The booming voice of the auctioneer brought him to high caution.

"And finally, our last item for tonight - Sir Secondo! Or should I say...Abia Segundo Centeno?"

The revelation of his true name unnerved the usual cool Punk. He was in full Officer mode, losing the Sir poise, pointing his gun in all directions as his eyes adjusted to the dim lights (which came with the spotlight). He was surrounded by the high society. The blank expressions on their faces told him they were not doing this on their own accord. He looked towards the puppeteer masquerading as the auctioneer on stage.

"Father?" Punk breathed.

"Hello, my child. You do not look too surprised to see me. I guess I had been too obvious for such a slow learner."

"Go to hell."

A shot rang high in the silence of the ballroom, startling Pan in her hiding place above the stage.


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Posted 7/23/14 , edited 7/24/14

Sebastian narrowed his eyes at the woman emerging from within the wardrobe. He had pretty much suspected of a spy hidden in there, but he had less expected the latter to be a female. However, he would not let his guard down - woman or not, he would fight her but also seemed to him that his mistress had knowledge of the intruder and was trying to shield her from him. His eyes switched to look at his mistress and came to the conclusion that the new individual had not been lying.

Renesmee's eyes widened in what it seemed to be not just shocked, but fear as well. Her eyes moved away from looking at Hexane - desperately recalled the chain of incidents from earlier. She was poisoned, why hadn't Renee thought of the possibility?

"Milady," Sebastian moved forward to Renee. "You're poison? Is her words trustworthy?"

When Renee moved aback and refused to answer him, he turned up and stared at Hexane as he walked in to stand in between Hexane and Renee. "What makes you think my young mistress is poisoned? What proof do you hold? For all our concern, my lady should head to the hospital now where medical experts would be more capable in giving her medications if she needs any."

"You-" Hexane trailed off as her eyes caught the shivering princess breaking into several bloody coughs. When her coughs finally ended, she looked up in despair only to find two pair of alerted eyes staring down at her. Their stares frightened her - and she was suddenly pushed back into a dark memory. She remembered the same cold, watchful eyes of alertness and rather judgemental staring at her. Whispers echoes surrounding her; giving her the creep before she remembered a deep voice of a woman saying: "Keep the girl alive. Kill her parents."

The rising action of the memory got to Renee and before it even reaches the climax, she snapped - taking off in hysteric. Before anyone could catch up with her, she had pushed herself into the elevator. The door closed and Renee was more than glad to find herself safe once again. She was trembling; unable to recognise the sudden memory as a dream or a real past. She couldn't recall anything from the time she used to live in the East Nation with her parents. Swallowing her fear in as she tried to clam her nerves, she caught eye of a speck of light shaped like a snowflake floating beside her. Her fear suddenly disappeared as she found herself staring at it with curiosity.

When the elevator door opened to a silent hallway, the speck of light floated unsteadily out and stopped midway - as if waiting for Renee to follow it. Renee blushed, she couldn't resist anything cute - she was also curious as to what it really was. Unable to resist it, Renee followed it into a huge exhibition hall with various portraits hanging on its wall. There were sophisticated gold-carved wall lamps in between each portraits - allowing the otherwise dark hall to light up.

The snowflake-like light stopped in front of a huge portrait. Renee followed suit and looked up to find herself looking at the magnificent art. The portrait drew Renee's attention. There was a level in hell, way down in the mass of agonizing screams of sinners, which glowed slightly. Strange, she thought. It seems like the picture is moving! She looked down to its name plate.

Dante's Map of Hell.

Renee wanted to touch the portrait, but she was afraid to. In fact, part of her body had a maddening desire to touch it while the other part was resisting the temptation - and her body felt uncomfortable once again, but it was different from the one she'd been feeling earlier on. The speck of light then came into her view on her eye level as it slowly turn blood-red in colour. It was also glowing too, as if demanding her to touch the sinful antique. Hypnotised, Renee moved her free hand up. The red light moved aside and Renee took a step closer towards the portrait.

Fear was crawling up her backbone. She was feeling goosebumps on her fair skin; her inner voices screaming - telling her to stop and run away but she could no longer hear them. At that very moment, embracing the portrait was the order.

"Touch it, child." The voice echoed.

Just when her fingers were close to touching the masterpiece, a white daisy petal - which was falling down from above Renee came into her sight. The spell broke and Renee regained her consciousness. Blinking at her odd action, she quickly redrew her hands and looked around for the red speck of light but it was nowhere to be found. It had magically vanished; leaving only the white daisy petal on the floor - the only proof that the fantasy was real.

Her eyes then flashed up to the portrait once more. Looking at it again, Renee felt like it was a part of her - or the other way round. Still, she hated the sight of the portrait. Leaving the hall in a hurry, Renee found herself alone in the silent hallway. No one was around to help her. The greatest fear had yet to come.

Where am I?

Just then the loud gunfire shot from the door opposite attracted Renee's full attention. Unbelievably brave enough to open the double door and take a look inside, she found herself scanning the dim backstage area. Only a small lamp at the corner of the huge space was giving some light to the room. Hearing some sound coming from the stage area, she tiptoed towards the opera drapes.
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A large gloved hands swiped across Renee's face as the heiress felt a strong grip circling her upper torso. She tried to struggle free with wild kicks but to no avail - her feet felt even more painful after colliding with hard muscles. The captor yelled for his accomplice to help bind her legs.

"We seem to have an unexpected guest," the lone individual on stage commented with slight amusement. "A live one."

Through the gaps of the dark fingers, she could hardly make out the white mask's distinct features. Her eyes swerved around her limited field of vision. The hotel guests were blocking most of her line of sight. She squinted at the light through the gaps in the crowd. Sir Secondo was standing in the spotlight below the stage. Dark stains were spreading on his right sleeves and the blinking silver gun in his right hand made her wince. She slowly realised his right arm had gone limp.

"You tried to shoot my chest, Abia. I am heartbroken," the masked host spoke in mock disappointment.

Confused, the heiress tried to make out the situation. Who was Abia?

Sir Secondo was silent and his expression was calm despite his injury. Another masked figure stepped into the spotlight from behind the injured, a black rifle supported by the black suited hunter's arms. The hunter shook his hood off and a blond headed youth sneered at Sir Secondo. The youth looked disturbingly familiar to Renee. Was he not the concierge hurrying around the lobby earlier?

"However, it seems your fellow sibling had been training well. You were a move too slow," the masked host continued. "Have you greeted each other yet? It's been years since you last seen your brother, Abia. Be a little kinder to your favourite younger sibling!"

It was clear to her now that Sir Secondo had gone by many names. The name "Abia" seemed to keep the limp man on the edge most. Weighing his options, Abia simply nodded to his assailant.

"Now, the niceties apart, I would like to apologise for the rough initiation we had for you. Won't you return by my side, lovely Abia?" the masked host reached out heartwarmingly. "I truly missed you. The brown hair looks so much better on you. The natural ashburn brown."

"You killed three people," Abia/Punk coldly stated.

"It was all for greater good. Were they not high priority suspects in your case?"

"And you distributed drugs. Again. This time, it was death of a artiste."

"He would meet death sooner at the lifestyle he is making," the peeved host spoke with gritted teeth.

"Finally, you had your own people murdered," Abia/Punk asserted.

"What do you mean? I always protect my family!" the masked host was getting agitated.

"I meant the Underdogs' gang. Had they not been helping you with drug distribution."

"Sinned people. They misunderstood the true cause of my organization and tried to sell more before I could rectify the protocol! They would be arrested and put to death either way! Murderers and pillages! Greed is punishable by law!"

"And whose law is that, Father?" Abia pushed on.

"God!"

At the other side of the world, a flustered jailer hastily reported the death of all Underdogs. It seemed that they had committed suicide within a gap of twenty minutes of each other. As the Police Superintendent hung up an hour later, his tired eyes was enough to affirm Reaper's suspicion - the suspicious death threats on the gang had been proven true.

"Just your word, Superintendent," an impatient Reaper probed.

The Superintendent nodded heavily. "But get their death investigated first. I will officially terminate the mission as well."


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