The Moros Murders
Chapter 1

Medea

The forest was bright that day, the weather was kind, and the horses were saints. It should’ve occurred to me that the day was too perfect, in need of being taken down a few pegs . But it was nice to have a good day for once. It was as though the forest’s very nature was begging me to stay longer. Katia was particularly happy that day. I glanced over at her, she was smiling. The breeze was dancing through her sun lit coarse chocolate curls. Her umber skin turned pink at her blushing cheeks. She had these gorgeous eyes, a warm brown colour with little golden flecks. When she looked at you, paired with that smile, you had no choice but to trust her.

Our friendship was forbidden in our country, yet I had been Katia’s shadow since we were children. She of the Toran Duchy and me of the Dregs. Despite the unfair difference in status between us, my mother had been their head of security for years. When I turned twelve, she appointed me as Katia’s personal bodyguard - a strange arrangement, but who would suspect a child? I may have been small, but I could outfight any fully grown man twice my size.

“You turned him down? I can’t believe it, most girls would kill for the chance,” Katia said, shocked.

“Then most girls are idiots. I don’t care how much money he has or how long I’ve known him. I don’t want to be some Lady to a Lord, I want to do something real.” I smiled. It was true, I’ve never liked the spotlight. If you need people to know that you’re helping others, you’re doing it for the wrong reasons. Besides, if I married an aristocrat, people would still treat me like a Dreg, but I’d much rather be a Dreg than one of them.

“But really, I can’t believe Tarin’s parents let him ask you. No offence,” she said, sheepishly.

“None taken. Tarin is a spoiled brat, always has been, do you really think they’ve ever said no to him?” Everyone thinks he’s this handsome little angel, but really, he had an awful personality, he would’ve really benefited from a kick up the arse when he was younger. Perhaps then he might not have been such a tosser. But, I’d known Tarin for a long time, so we stayed friends.

“Medea! You can’t say such things. Imagine the fit he’d throw if he heard you.” We both loved Tarin but he brought it upon himself by throwing a tantrum at everything that wasn’t exactly to his liking. Such as when he asked me to marry him, maybe his reason was love, but he never considered how I felt or knew me as well as I thought. He thought I’d swoon at all his money and power, but he could never see past it, he could never grasp the concept that it could be lost. Or that loyalty could be earned rather than bought.

“I said no because I don’t love him, and I’m not bothered about marriage. If I find someone that I can stand, sure why not? I never told Tarin that he didn’t have a chance, if he cares, he can try to earn something for once in his life. It’s up to him.”

“You make everything sound so simple. I don’t think getting someone to love you is quite so easy,” Katia murmured dejectedly.

“I’m sure it can be, but I’m not really the person to ask.” I responded, trying to deter Katia from talking about her love life.

“So, there’s this girl I like.” I’ve always loved it when Katia rambles on about her many crushes, expecting me to give her advice in a subject I know nothing about. “She’s really pretty, and funny, and smart, and I think she likes me too.” Ugh, kill me.

“I’m sure she does,” I replied, not really caring.

“Really? You think so?” she asked, hopefully.

“Mmhm.”

“Do you think I should ask her out?”

“If that’s what you want,” I said, giving her a reassuring smile.

“Are you even listening to me or are you just saying what I want to hear?”

“Look, Katia, you’re my best friend and I love you but, if I’ve got to be honest, I couldn’t care less about your love life. Okay, it’s simple, if you like her and think she likes you, then ask her out.”

“But what if she says no?”

“Suck it up, or tell her it was a dare.”

Katia beamed at me, her cheeks turning pink with excitement. “You’re right, I should just go for it. Oh yeah, can I see Margo today?” Margo was this street dog we had adopted a few weeks prior, and Katia had been begging to meet her.

“Yeah, I guess we can pop by.” Katia let out an excited squeal.

We rode through the upper Dregs; my apartment was in the outskirts, but it was still middle dregs. Our society has an extremely corrupt system of power, and though the politicians and monarchy would have us believe that everyone was equal, one look around would tell you the reality was far from it. My mother had been one of the greatest warriors of her generation—head of security for an extremely wealthy family—and yet she too was destined to remain a Dreg – never to rise higher than the dregs of society.

Our government is run by privileged hypocrites. They had no concept of what it felt like to be unable to afford food for their families or the paralysing fear that comes with not having enough credits to keep your home warm during the cold winter months. Polar City is located in the most southern part of Polaris. Our summers are short; the winters and autumns brutal. Polaris skips spring, the last spring was 147 years ago. The Dregs has the highest mortality rate than any other area in the whole of Maior including the Isle of the damned. And that’s a prison rock.

When we reached my building, we tied up the horses. I pulled a leftover sandwich from our lunch bag and handed it to a street kid named Gren, so he’d make sure no one stole them. Katia was kind but she was still from another world. Watching Gren devour the sandwich in seconds, she said to me, “You would’ve thought he doesn’t get fed at home.”

I sighed, “Katia, he doesn’t have a home, that’s the first food he’s seen in days.”

Katia frowned, “That’s terrible, don’t the authorities know about this?”

“Of course they know! There are thousands of kids like Gren in the Dregs. The uppers just don’t care.” I scoffed at the pathetic excuse for a justice system that was The Guards Alliance.

“Thousands? Why wouldn’t the P.C.G.A care about thousands of homeless children!” she exclaimed, shocked.

“Because they’re Dregs, the uppers don’t care about us. The Guards Alliance is corrupt, and the uppers don’t want them ‘wasting’ their resources on us. Even though we’re the ones that need them most,” I announced through gritted teeth.

“I thought there were charities to stop these things.” I was surprised that Katia was still so naïve after she’d spent so much time with me.

“Yeah, charities run by greedy uppers trying to leech more money than they need by extorting vulnerable street kids,” I sighed.

“What do you mean?” A confused expression etched on her face.

“They call them charities, but they’re not. They say it’s a place where homeless kids can sleep safely and keep warm but that’s just how they lure them in,” I explained.

“Lure them in?”

“They find ways to control them, usually drugs, get them addicted so they rely on their captors, do what they ask for another hit,” I told her.

“What do they want them for?” She still wasn’t getting it.

“What do you think?” I said with a sigh, “Polar city has one of the biggest sex trafficking rings in the world.”

“How come I’ve never heard of this?” she asked, dumbfounded and visibly disgusted.

“Because it’s run by uppers, and the only victims are Dregs. There’d be a bigger response from the authorities if they were trafficking rats. No one cares about the Dregs, it’s as simple as that!” I stated before opening the door to my second-floor flat.

As soon as I opened the door, I knew that something was wrong. It was eerily silent. With my two little brothers and a dog in the house, there should have been at least some noise. I told Katia to wait outside and drew my pistol, slowly starting down the hallway. I was hit by a strong metallic scent; my heart began quickening. My footsteps echoed down the hallway as I approached the end, and horror filled me when my eyes fell upon a gruesome sight. Three lifeless bodies lay in a pool of their own blood. Through the haze of shock, I realised that the corpses were my mother and brothers, murdered in a burst of violence.

A deafening shriek pierced the air around me as Katia materialised at my side. I stared at her, then back to my beloved family. Every muscle in my body tensed and I fought for breath, yet no words came. Paralysing dread crept into every corner of my heart, engulfing me in its icy darkness. My mind was empty. I think I stood there for about five minutes before the world came back into focus, when Katia led in the P.C.G.A who I assume only arrived so promptly when they realised who Katia was. I didn’t even notice her leaving the room.

“Medea?” Katia said, putting her hand on my shoulder, “We should go outside.”

I didn’t look away for a second, “Where’s my dad?”

“What?” Katia said softly, looking towards the PCGA officers who were now also looking at the bodies.

“He’s not here,” I said before turning and striding towards the open door of my parents’ bedroom.

“Medea, wait,” Katia said as the officers moved to either follow or stop me I’m not sure, it’s a little hazy in my memory.

As I stepped into the room, my stomach dropped at the gruesome sight that greeted me. Margo, our sweet little wire terrier, lay still with her neck twisted at an unnatural angle. To her side was my father: his throat slashed and face set in a grimace of terror. His hands were slick with the blood he futilely tried to staunch, his face frozen in a mixture of terror and devastation that will be forever etched in my memory.

The week after the vicious massacre of my family had passed by in an interminable blur. As I pulled out my black dress from the bag, I felt a pang of despair. Even sadness was no longer enough to describe the emptiness within me. The colour black was perfect for this day — it could absorb any blood spilled and remain imperceptible to all.

The funeral was a desolate place, filled with people who knew my parents in name only. They all engaged in false pleasantries as they paraded around like they cared. The Torans were the only people there who felt the loss of my family, Katia bawled unabashedly, while I stood stoic and silent, wishing I could feel something other than emptiness. The thought of being so moved by my grief that these fakes might think twice about gossiping about me secretly sent an icy chill across my skin. They didn’t know it, but their opinions were just a reflection of their own cold hearts; cruel and soulless.

When I received the letter, I have to say that pleased isn’t a word I’d use. Irked, is getting closer. But to put my finger on it, it was most certainly a divide between dread and lack of surprise. Our society is flawed. The rich prevail while the poor suffer. And this letter, this letter excavated any doubt in my mind that the Guards Alliance is corrupt.

I can only assume that this letter was typed and sealed within a day of the investigation, they just waited until my family were all dead and buried to send it. I mean really, do they think that I’ll leave this alone? All they did by sending me this letter was to confirm my suspicions that someone with power was behind this; and let me know that they’re not going to get in the way of my investigation. I did what Katia had asked, I gave the P.C.G.A a chance, it only took them a week to fail me. Now, it was my turn.

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