The Moros Murders
Chapter 2

Medea

I started my journey towards the Toran family's stables on the south side of their sprawling property, located just outside the city limits. The grounds were lush, dotted with wildflowers, and I could see the majestic manor house in the distance. Its ancient walls were made of large, carefully-placed cobblestones, and its enormous windows were framed by intricate ironwork. The entire estate was a testament to how much the family had invested in protecting it; after all, it predated even the great destruction that had reshaped so much of the land. Despite all this time, though, most of the structure remained original, true to its centuries-old design. In fact, it's probably worth more than the Orwenfell Hearth. A sky castle which towered over the city, its enormous spires reaching up into the sky. Beneath it lay the sprawling citadel with its many winding streets and bright lanterns. One can only enter the citadel with proof of assets over 20,000 credits. Only the 1% are allowed, except for exceptional circumstances.

There's rumours of what the citadel is like, full of uppers, clean, happy, no one starving on the streets. Only a small number of uppers live outside of the citadel, like the Torans. Most of them don't want to know what's happening beyond the walls, the treatment of the poor, G.A brutality, the horrific state of the streets. Out of site, out of mind as the saying goes. The only reason uppers visit the dregs, is to participate in the filthy activities they themselves bring to the Dregs. Without upper interference, the Dregs wouldn't be the scum pit it is. The sex and drug trafficking rings and brothels are all owned by uppers.

I rounded the corner to find an old stable with a dozen horses inside. Even from a distance, I could make out small details like weather-worn shutters and ivy snaking up the walls that told tales of its long history. It was as if time had stood still here, and preserved these marvels from destruction.

Once I reached the stables, I tacked up one of the Torans' horses and rode through the main gate, taking the track through the woods and into the middle ground. The middle ground is the area that surrounds the citadel wall, it's where the middle class tend to live. I've been there a bit, it's a nice place, it's where all the P.C.G.A watches are. It's also where Katia and I go to school. On the wall of the citadel, middle side, is a private school attended by many uppers and most of the middle ground kids - it's called The Shelves. It's a far cry from the so-called schools in the Dregs, which I had attended until I was fourteen when the Torans decided Katia wasn't safe at school without a bodyguard. Even though it's an incredible opportunity for me, there is no where I feel more out of place.

The sun glinted off the freshly swept cobblestones of the middle ground, with its charming boutiques and cosy cafes tucked between terraced houses adorned with bright window boxes. The morning breeze whipped through my hair as I rode along, taking in the vibrant sights and smells that this lively neighbourhood had to offer. I may be a Dreg, but I wouldn't pass up a chance to live here.

The looming tower of stone stood before me, a miniature fortress defended by impenetrable metal gates, cogs exposed and ready to lock up in an instant. I stepped through the gates, feeling their power as if they could close around me like a vice at any moment. The walls were adorned with three rapid-fire, standing machine guns, their bullets powerful enough to rip someone apart in the blink of an eye. No one could penetrate these walls - they were built for siege.

The Guns were unleashed in a Dreg riot when I was six, and I can still hear their thunderous roars echoing in my ears. The sight of the blood-stained cobbles will never leave my memory - it seemed like enough blood to fill an ocean, so deep that even a week of relentless rain couldn't wash away all the carnage and destruction. To serve as a reminder to any Dregs who might dare try to revolt again, the uppers in charge decided not to clear away the corpses, leaving them rotting in the streets like silent monuments.

I tied up my steed in the public stable area of the watch and walked through the doors straight to the front desk. "Hi, I'm here to see Detective Reickon," I asked, already knowing that I wouldn't be seen.

"Detective Reickon isn't available. Come back another time," the receptionist drawled, glancing at me for less than a second before returning to his crossword.

I smiled and backed away from the desk, the door to the office was key card operated. Eyeing my target, I brushed past a young officer, swiping the metal card from his pocket. I did a discreet look around before inserting the card in the door and entering the hallway.

The dim, yellowish light bulbs in the hallway cast long shadows and revealed peeling paint. I counted four doors - one to the basement, one to the toilet stalls, one to the open desks, and another at the end of the corridor that led to a staircase. My footfalls echoed as I climbed up to the second story, stopping at three doors - one to a canteen, another to cells, and the last belonging to the more prominent guards and administrators. I clenched the doorknob of their hall and stepped inside. After walking past a few doors, I came to one with a plaque that read, Dt. Reickon. I knocked and after no answer, I tried the door. Locked.

A locked door wasn't much trouble for me. My heart beating like a timpani drum in my chest, I knew I had to be quick. I glanced around as I ripped out my lock picking set, my gloved hands quivering slightly from the adrenaline of a crime. I attempted to pick the lock with precision and speed - only 30 seconds standing between me and possible discovery. Clicks and pops sounded off until finally the lock opened, allowing access to the room beyond. After quickly stepping in, I shut the door behind me and clicked the lock into place again, using it akin to an alarm bell should anyone come around.

The office was reasonably spacious, with a nice oak desk in front of a window to centre the room. The wallpaper had been fresh and eggshell once, but was peeling from water damage now. Loose threads on the carpet faced the windowsill like pickets trying to keep out an army. An unplaceable sour scent floating around the dim room filled my nostrils.

Quickly I got to work looking for the file, I checked the filing cabinet first, then the shelves, then his desk. I found the file in the bottom drawer of Reickon's battered old desk. I flipped it open to take a look but as I did, the sound of footsteps thundering in the hall caught my attention, as well as hushed voices. A key rattled in the lock. I hastily ducked under the desk as the door swung open and two men entered. Luckily the desk was backed and not open, I peered through a crack in the wood.

Leaning against the desk was Detective Reickon, he was talking to a man I'd never seen before. The man was finely dressed in an expensive suit, but he looked more like a thug, with his bulky frame and squashed nose.

"Did you tell the girl that the case was closed?" he asked the detective in a gruff voice that didn't match his attire.

"She should have gotten the letter today," the detective replied.

"What was it this time? Lack of resources or leads?" They both laughed. "What about the girl? Boss doesn't want her dead but if she's going to be a problem, we need to move in quick," the thug said.

"I'm not sure, the front desk said she came by ten minutes ago asking for me. I doubt she'll be a problem, she's a little girl that just lost her family, I'm sure she just wants some answers."

"Notify us if she starts to become a problem," the thuggish man stated before leaving the office. The detective left after a moment, leaving me alone in the office.

Stuffing the file in my bag, I moved towards the door, listening for anyone else. I cracked the door open to take a peek outside, seeing no one in the hall, I started towards the door at the end. Hearing the incoming voices of two female officers, I turned and headed quickly down to the open window at the end of the hall.

I lent out, checking the wall wasn't flat. Luckily, the building had outside window sills all the way down, making it a viable escape route. I, a little too hurriedly, climbed onto the sill and sat with my legs dangling out. I slipped but caught my hand on the radiator inside, clutching it tight, before lowering myself down, out of the sight of the officers.

I scaled down the side of the building, avoiding standing right in front of the windows, luckily, it was only two stories. Once I got to the first floor sill, I jumped the remaining two metres, landing without injury. I dropped the stolen key card in front of the building, on my way to the stables. Mounting my horse, I rode back to Toran manor before anyone noticed that the file was even missing.

"There isn't much here, either the Guards Alliance were covering it up or their idiots; or whoever did this covered their tracks. Maybe both" I mumbled to myself, whilst pouring over the file in front of me.

"You said you'd let the Alliance handle it," Katia said, standing in the door frame.

"I gave them a chance," I muttered, sliding the letter across the desk as she walked towards me.

She read the P.C.G.A letter then frowned, "So what do you think? Are they corrupt or idiots?" she asked, repeating my words.

I sighed, "Either way, that doesn't warrant closing the case after just a week. Besides, there is no way Detective Reickon and that thug weren't talking about me."

"When did you see Reickon?" she asked, with a hint of worry.

"I overheard them when I broke into his office to get the file," I said, quite matter of factly.

"You broke into his office?" Katia whispered angrily, through gritted teeth. She then turned and locked the door, making sure that no one was around.

"Yes Kat, keep up. Anyway their conversation makes me think it was a hit. Someone wanted my parents dead, but I doubt they're the actual killer. It would've been pretty easy to find out my work schedule and for a professional job like this, they would've done their homework. By what I overheard and the fact I'm still alive, whoever's responsible doesn't want me dead. Yet anyway."

I stood up to face Katia, and put my hands on her shoulders, "Whether they want me dead or not, I need to be careful, they're watching me." I moved to the wardrobe, opening it and lifting the bottom slat, revealing a space. "You should stay on the property when you're not in school." I hid the file and removed my gun and blades, strapping them to my body and throwing on my tatty black leather trench coat to cover my weapons. "Whoever did this, Reickon knows something and I'm going to find out what." I walked back towards Katia, placing a flip knife in her palm. "Keep it close Kat," I demanded before moving to leave.

"Be careful," Katia said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me into a hug. "The next funeral I attend, it better not be yours," she said a little teary. I gave her a nod before leaving her alone in the room.

I waited for around two hours across the road from the guard station before I spied Reickon leaving. I kept to the shadows for a few moments, letting him gain some distance before I began trailing him, staying well back. I'd met Detective Reickon before and I couldn't have him recognising me. I stayed unnoticed, only having to duck behind something when he looked back to cross the road. I let him get ahead before crossing myself. I lost sight of him for a second, but found him again when the big lump that was walking behind him moved. I continued following him for another twenty minutes before he turned into an alley.

Ducking behind some bins to get a better view, I pulled out a miniature recording device, a spherical ball connected to an earpiece. I shoved in the ear piece and twisted the two halves of the ball until I heard it click. I turned back to the alley to see that Reickon had been joined by a young man, maybe twenty, who I didn't recognise. I quietly rolled the sphere down the alley until it stopped at some rubbish, close to the two men.

"What do you want? The job is done, our organisation doesn't like dredging up what's already in the past. Contact leads to questions, our boss doesn't like questions," the man in the alley said calmly but he couldn't keep the annoyance from his voice.

The gruff voice of Detective Reickon cracked through the earpiece, "Well, my boss is worried that the girl might become a problem."

"He wanted her alive. Has that changed?" the man asked impatiently.

"Not yet, we're keeping an eye on her."

"If it's handled, then why did you want to meet?"

"The girl is a bodyguard to a noble lady and has been since she was twelve, I need to know how dangerous keeping her alive is. I need everything you have on her," Reickon explained.

"What is it Reickon, getting to old to do your own digging?" The young man chuckled.

"How long have we worked together, Mory? I know your organisation does its homework, tell me what you know."

The man, Mory, sighed, "There isn't much on the girl but we had to be careful given who her mother was, people thought that she was unkillable. At the end of the day, she was a Dreg, no one cares what happens to Dregs."

"Yes yes, but the girl?"

"From what we can gather, she takes after her mother. She's an extremely talented individual, and it's unknown whether she possesses powers or not, we couldn't find her test record, but that's not uncommon in the Dregs. Had we been asked to kill her too, it would've made our job exponentially harder. From what we gathered, the girl is extremely dangerous and it's a risk keeping her alive. I've also heard that she is a bit of a nutter, how true that is I don't know, but if she starts to investigate this herself, which I'm almost certain she will if she hasn't already. She must be dealt with. Our organisation isn't fond of loose ends, they either get tied up or removed." Nutter? That's a bit rude.

"My boss is hesitant to kill her," Reickon stated.

"All that little psycho wants is something to play with. Give him something else to occupy his time, and then we can cast away the girl," Mory suggested.

The Detective sighed, "This one's different, he really likes her. He won't lose interest easily."

"He has a... disturbing... way of telling someone he likes them," Mory uttered.

"Maybe if I explain what a risk she is, he might bend," offered Reickon.

"Don't let him take too long, if she becomes a problem, we'll whack her regardless of his feelings," Mory spoke before walking away.

Reickon left through the other side of the alley and Mory exited the alley right in front of me. He was using a communication device, relaying the conversation he'd had with the detective. I had hidden by the entrance and when he hung up, I had the perfect opportunity to knock him out. I rushed him and he was on the floor before he had even realised what happened. I bound his wrists with the magic chain that had been round my waist; only the person who put it on can take it off and they can't be cut, pretty useful for securing pretty much anything. I gagged him then retrieved the recording device from the alley.

I flipped open my knife, clamping a hand over his bound mouth, and dragged the blade across his thigh. He awoke, startled. I raised the knife to his neck, "If you scream, you'll suffer. Understand?" The man nodded, and I removed the gag from his mouth, keeping my knife to his neck. "So, Mory was it? You know who I am?" Mory nodded again. "Tell me, who do you work for?"

"And why would I tell you?" Mory asked before screaming as I pushed the blade into his leg, twisting it as I clamped my hand over his mouth.

"Are you sure?" I asked innocently.

"Do as you will, I'll never tell you anything," he panted and I smiled.

"Oh, I know, you're very brave. Unfortunately for you, you don't have to say anything for me to get what I want." His face filled with fear and confusion.

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