December 15th, 2009
"Nothing?"
"Nothing."
Rhodes sighed. "Three weeks and this is what we got to show for it? Fuckin' nothing?!"
With a shrug, Curtis rose from his seat at the front of Rhodes's desk and lit a cigarette.
"People don't just fuckin' disappear like this, Mike! They just don't!" Rhodes roared, throwing his arms into the air.
"You know that ain't true, John. But if we don't find somethin' soon then Captain Buck will assign us to something else and this'll be over - for now at least. Let's face it, we've made almost no damn progress and there's no way Pushard will give us access to forensics without new evidence," Curtis grunted, sucking down half of his cigarette in one draw. "Buck ain't gonna be happy when we tell him that the three weeks he's given us to find somethin' has produced fuck-all."
"Yeah, don't I know it."
The pair fell silent. Curtis stabbed his cigarette out in an old metal takeout carton on Rhodes's desk.
"It's not often I concede defeat Mike... But we haven't got shit on this guy."
-#-
March 15th, 2010
The streets of Norfolk, Virginia were surprisingly vacant, though it was no wonder that of the two thousand-plus people jammed into the Chrysler Hall at Dakari's back, none of them were outside. By now, the Bronx Barbarian and Violence Jack would be smashing seven shades of shit out of one another, backstage banter had indicated that it would be something of a spectacle and was not to be missed. Unless, of course, you're Anathkash Dakari. His interest in the other matches on the card was minimal, though he couldn't deny that Jody had sold the main event well after hearing the buzz backstage and the roaring excitement of the crowd, even from outside. Dakari could see the webcast of the event afterwards... should he find someone to show him how to, that is.
His escape had been meticulously planned, seeing him wait out the pre-main event break in the restrooms while the punters settled for the big match before sidling through the swanky modern bar with his head down into the foyer. As anticipated, the front entrance of Chrysler Hall was relatively empty and he exited the building without being recognised. The venue staff couldn't care less who he was; they would have seen many more interesting and famous people than he pass through these doors, but that didn't bother him. Craving for the affection of the fans (or indeed the "heat" he'd heard about) was not in his nature; they could take him as they liked, though he'd be lying if he said he'd enjoy being booed.
Rounding a corner, the Just Wrestling venue disappeared behind Dakari's back and his immediate wrestling woes were forgotten...
...only to be replaced by yet another, of a much more sinister nature.
Up ahead of him in the empty street stood a lone figure dressed similarly to Dakari, entirely in black... only atop his head was a wide-brim hat.
Dakari's eyes widened in surprise beneath the hood of his coat at the sight of this mysterious figure, this shade, turning to face him; the hair on the back of his neck stood on end atop a spine that was wracked with a sudden, violent shiver. Both of his hands dipped into pockets and closed around switchblades concealed in self-stitched compartments within each pocket, thumbs prepared to unleash the folded steel and rend flesh from bone.
Like that would help, but each to their own.
The figure lurched forward and hurtled awkwardly towards Dakari, who had yet to see the terrible grin that lurked beneath the mysterious spirit's hat. As it drew nearer, Dakari shrugged free of his backpack and withdrew his weapons from his pockets, the blades snapping into place.
In hindsight, Dakari presented himself as being a lot more confident of the situation than he truly was. In reality he was shitting it, and knew for a fact that ghosts generally couldn't be stabbed to death.
Would that be re-death?
Good job it wasn't the ghost, then.
The man hastily halted himself at the sight of the knives and held his hands up defensively. He reached for his hat and pulled it away to reveal his weathered, pale face.
Dakari's knives were lowered. "Mister Nihilus?"
"Anathkash. You are as... wary as ever," the man mumbled, replacing his hat and lowering his hands.
"What are you doing here?" The rookie wrestler's eyes narrowed on him. "What's wrong? What happened?"
"We... have to talk."
"About what? What's going on?"
"Come."
The older man began to limp away, beckoning for Dakari to follow him. He did, snatching up his back and jogging to catch up to the man. As Dakari fell in alongside him on the sidewalk, Nihilus put a hand inside his long coat and withdrew a newspaper, handing it over to the young man.
Dakari unfolded a copy of the morning's Richmond Times and scanned the cover. "What am I... looking... for..." He began, then slowed to a stop as he saw a side-headline atop a front-page column.
Successful Richmond Businessman Murdered in Own Office
Dakari's eyes averted from the article to Nihilus's solemn face and back, putting pieces together. "It's Mister Ravion, isn't it."
It was not a question, but Nihilus nodded anyway. "Which means the Betrayer knows more... than he should. We are in... danger, you and I. He will be looking, yes, for me; once he finds me he will come for you. Do you... understand?"
"If he killed Mister Ravion then he'll try to kill you too! We have to stop him first!"
"The Betrayer did not personally kill Benedict Ravion, he sent an agent to do this for him. He is... rash... and cruel and violent, yes, but the Betrayer is... no fool though; his involvement will never be revealed and he will never risk compromising... himself."
Dakari stared at the side of Nihilus's head for a moment as they walked. It always took longer for the peculiar character's words to sink in because of the way he spoke, the seemingly random pauses in speech constantly threw Dakari off. He often found himself interrupting the man by accident.
"So we wait for this agent to come, then kill him," Dakari growled.
"Benedict sought to do just that. The Betrayer visited him at the end of last year, did you know that?"
"No."
Nihilus sighed - a strange, wheezing sound. "We were the last... of our kind, Benedict and I. In the event of my death it is necessary for you to undertake... certain tasks."
"You're not going to die, Nihilus."
"What a naïve statement. I've lived... too long already, Anathkash. I came to terms... with death... a long time ago. A long time ago," the older man repeated, more to the world at large than the young man walking at his side.
For all his scars and wrinkles, gasping and limping, Dakari knew that Nihilus's outward appearance was one wrought with deceit; a web of lies held together this image of a skinny old bag of bones when in reality this man could probably kill every single man and woman that had ever entered the JUST ring with nothing more than his bare hands, Dakari included. Dakari liked to think he was in the same vein as Nihilus, but both of them knew he had a long way to go before he could start truly believing that.
Dakari had a natural affinity with fighting, despite his relatively small size. He was not overly muscular but there wasn't an ounce of fat on his body either, and his speed and agility more than made up for his height and weight disadvantages. Nihilus was only a few inches taller than him and didn't look to be any heavier. How he managed to do what he did was completely unknown to Dakari, but manage he did and with awe he inspired.
"Benedict waited for his killer to come but he never... did. He finally came for him two nights ago while Benedict was at head office in Richmond. The only place... yes... the only place the Betrayer knew that he could be. Where he visited him before. Yes, and then he sent his killer to... despatch him. Poor Benedict," Nihilus muttered.
"Do you know who he is? The killer?"
"Yes... and no. It is not so simple, for he is like us. He will never be caught. What are you doing?" The question caught Dakari off-guard, particularly since he wasn't doing anything at all.
"I- I- what? What? What am I doing?" he stammered. "What do you mean?"
"You were at the Chrysler Hall building. There's a wrestling... show... there. I gather you were on it."
"Yeah. Should I stop wrestling until this guy is dead?"
"No. Absolutely not. The Betrayer would know that something is wrong. You would stand out, yes, out like a sore thumb. At the moment he is still unaware of who you are and that is the way I intend to keep it," the older man said, scowling at the sidewalk. "But he will find you eventually. Do not rest... easy. They are coming."
"It's possible that I've met this agent of the Betrayer."
Nihilus stopped walking, his eyes still on the ground. Dakari stopped a step and a half later, and nothing was said for several heartbeats.
The pale man's eyes met Dakari's. "Really?"
"Well, maybe. I don't know. It looked a lot like you, which is why I was ready to stab you. Same hat and coat. But it laughs, and I can't see its face – just a grin. I saw a medium in England who said it was a ghost and nothing to worry about, and I haven't seen it since. But it's odd that I only saw it last month and now Mister Ravion is dead." Dakari said, scratching his long stubble nervously.
"Could be nothing," Nihilus mumbled, walking on. "But... could perhaps be not. Grinning and laughing you say? Hmm. It is perhaps well that I have... something to give you. If the Betrayer has sent his agent to you already then it may help you while I... cannot."
The strange man unbuttoned his coat and reached inside, lifting out a particularly unremarkable short dagger sheathed in an equally uninteresting scabbard. He drew the blade free from the sheath and turned it over in his hands before pushing it back inside and offhandedly passed it to Dakari.
"Try not to draw attention to it, yes, and most won't notice it's even... there."
Anathkash fully unsheathed the weapon. It wasn't any more imposing than his flick knives. "How?"
"You know I can't explain that," he grinned. A gruesome sight, as his teeth were in worse condition than Dakari's. "But I can tell you it will be of more help to you than those... ha, toothpicks you have. Should you need to use it... at least."
Dakari put the blade away and clipped it to his belt beneath his trench coat, as he did so Nihilus stepped into his path to face him.
"I must leave you now, I have... already exposed myself for longer than I'd have liked."
"But how will I contact you?"
"You will not. I will come to you again, as I have done today... and we will talk more, should we need to. You know already what it is that you must do, Anathkash."
"It's not as simple as that!"
"Sadly... it must be. Farewell Anathkash Dakari. Do not let shadow misguide you."
And that was that. Nihilus walked away and Dakari watched him go, his curious limp carrying him at an unexpectedly high speed along the street until he disappeared out of sight. The wrestler looked again at the blade on his belt and wondered what made it so special.
With a mental shrug he headed back on the path to his hotel. Woes for another day.
"Nothing?"
"Nothing."
Rhodes sighed. "Three weeks and this is what we got to show for it? Fuckin' nothing?!"
With a shrug, Curtis rose from his seat at the front of Rhodes's desk and lit a cigarette.
"People don't just fuckin' disappear like this, Mike! They just don't!" Rhodes roared, throwing his arms into the air.
"You know that ain't true, John. But if we don't find somethin' soon then Captain Buck will assign us to something else and this'll be over - for now at least. Let's face it, we've made almost no damn progress and there's no way Pushard will give us access to forensics without new evidence," Curtis grunted, sucking down half of his cigarette in one draw. "Buck ain't gonna be happy when we tell him that the three weeks he's given us to find somethin' has produced fuck-all."
"Yeah, don't I know it."
The pair fell silent. Curtis stabbed his cigarette out in an old metal takeout carton on Rhodes's desk.
"It's not often I concede defeat Mike... But we haven't got shit on this guy."
-#-
March 15th, 2010
The streets of Norfolk, Virginia were surprisingly vacant, though it was no wonder that of the two thousand-plus people jammed into the Chrysler Hall at Dakari's back, none of them were outside. By now, the Bronx Barbarian and Violence Jack would be smashing seven shades of shit out of one another, backstage banter had indicated that it would be something of a spectacle and was not to be missed. Unless, of course, you're Anathkash Dakari. His interest in the other matches on the card was minimal, though he couldn't deny that Jody had sold the main event well after hearing the buzz backstage and the roaring excitement of the crowd, even from outside. Dakari could see the webcast of the event afterwards... should he find someone to show him how to, that is.
His escape had been meticulously planned, seeing him wait out the pre-main event break in the restrooms while the punters settled for the big match before sidling through the swanky modern bar with his head down into the foyer. As anticipated, the front entrance of Chrysler Hall was relatively empty and he exited the building without being recognised. The venue staff couldn't care less who he was; they would have seen many more interesting and famous people than he pass through these doors, but that didn't bother him. Craving for the affection of the fans (or indeed the "heat" he'd heard about) was not in his nature; they could take him as they liked, though he'd be lying if he said he'd enjoy being booed.
Rounding a corner, the Just Wrestling venue disappeared behind Dakari's back and his immediate wrestling woes were forgotten...
...only to be replaced by yet another, of a much more sinister nature.
Up ahead of him in the empty street stood a lone figure dressed similarly to Dakari, entirely in black... only atop his head was a wide-brim hat.
Dakari's eyes widened in surprise beneath the hood of his coat at the sight of this mysterious figure, this shade, turning to face him; the hair on the back of his neck stood on end atop a spine that was wracked with a sudden, violent shiver. Both of his hands dipped into pockets and closed around switchblades concealed in self-stitched compartments within each pocket, thumbs prepared to unleash the folded steel and rend flesh from bone.
Like that would help, but each to their own.
The figure lurched forward and hurtled awkwardly towards Dakari, who had yet to see the terrible grin that lurked beneath the mysterious spirit's hat. As it drew nearer, Dakari shrugged free of his backpack and withdrew his weapons from his pockets, the blades snapping into place.
In hindsight, Dakari presented himself as being a lot more confident of the situation than he truly was. In reality he was shitting it, and knew for a fact that ghosts generally couldn't be stabbed to death.
Would that be re-death?
Good job it wasn't the ghost, then.
The man hastily halted himself at the sight of the knives and held his hands up defensively. He reached for his hat and pulled it away to reveal his weathered, pale face.
Dakari's knives were lowered. "Mister Nihilus?"
"Anathkash. You are as... wary as ever," the man mumbled, replacing his hat and lowering his hands.
"What are you doing here?" The rookie wrestler's eyes narrowed on him. "What's wrong? What happened?"
"We... have to talk."
"About what? What's going on?"
"Come."
The older man began to limp away, beckoning for Dakari to follow him. He did, snatching up his back and jogging to catch up to the man. As Dakari fell in alongside him on the sidewalk, Nihilus put a hand inside his long coat and withdrew a newspaper, handing it over to the young man.
Dakari unfolded a copy of the morning's Richmond Times and scanned the cover. "What am I... looking... for..." He began, then slowed to a stop as he saw a side-headline atop a front-page column.
Successful Richmond Businessman Murdered in Own Office
Dakari's eyes averted from the article to Nihilus's solemn face and back, putting pieces together. "It's Mister Ravion, isn't it."
It was not a question, but Nihilus nodded anyway. "Which means the Betrayer knows more... than he should. We are in... danger, you and I. He will be looking, yes, for me; once he finds me he will come for you. Do you... understand?"
"If he killed Mister Ravion then he'll try to kill you too! We have to stop him first!"
"The Betrayer did not personally kill Benedict Ravion, he sent an agent to do this for him. He is... rash... and cruel and violent, yes, but the Betrayer is... no fool though; his involvement will never be revealed and he will never risk compromising... himself."
Dakari stared at the side of Nihilus's head for a moment as they walked. It always took longer for the peculiar character's words to sink in because of the way he spoke, the seemingly random pauses in speech constantly threw Dakari off. He often found himself interrupting the man by accident.
"So we wait for this agent to come, then kill him," Dakari growled.
"Benedict sought to do just that. The Betrayer visited him at the end of last year, did you know that?"
"No."
Nihilus sighed - a strange, wheezing sound. "We were the last... of our kind, Benedict and I. In the event of my death it is necessary for you to undertake... certain tasks."
"You're not going to die, Nihilus."
"What a naïve statement. I've lived... too long already, Anathkash. I came to terms... with death... a long time ago. A long time ago," the older man repeated, more to the world at large than the young man walking at his side.
For all his scars and wrinkles, gasping and limping, Dakari knew that Nihilus's outward appearance was one wrought with deceit; a web of lies held together this image of a skinny old bag of bones when in reality this man could probably kill every single man and woman that had ever entered the JUST ring with nothing more than his bare hands, Dakari included. Dakari liked to think he was in the same vein as Nihilus, but both of them knew he had a long way to go before he could start truly believing that.
Dakari had a natural affinity with fighting, despite his relatively small size. He was not overly muscular but there wasn't an ounce of fat on his body either, and his speed and agility more than made up for his height and weight disadvantages. Nihilus was only a few inches taller than him and didn't look to be any heavier. How he managed to do what he did was completely unknown to Dakari, but manage he did and with awe he inspired.
"Benedict waited for his killer to come but he never... did. He finally came for him two nights ago while Benedict was at head office in Richmond. The only place... yes... the only place the Betrayer knew that he could be. Where he visited him before. Yes, and then he sent his killer to... despatch him. Poor Benedict," Nihilus muttered.
"Do you know who he is? The killer?"
"Yes... and no. It is not so simple, for he is like us. He will never be caught. What are you doing?" The question caught Dakari off-guard, particularly since he wasn't doing anything at all.
"I- I- what? What? What am I doing?" he stammered. "What do you mean?"
"You were at the Chrysler Hall building. There's a wrestling... show... there. I gather you were on it."
"Yeah. Should I stop wrestling until this guy is dead?"
"No. Absolutely not. The Betrayer would know that something is wrong. You would stand out, yes, out like a sore thumb. At the moment he is still unaware of who you are and that is the way I intend to keep it," the older man said, scowling at the sidewalk. "But he will find you eventually. Do not rest... easy. They are coming."
"It's possible that I've met this agent of the Betrayer."
Nihilus stopped walking, his eyes still on the ground. Dakari stopped a step and a half later, and nothing was said for several heartbeats.
The pale man's eyes met Dakari's. "Really?"
"Well, maybe. I don't know. It looked a lot like you, which is why I was ready to stab you. Same hat and coat. But it laughs, and I can't see its face – just a grin. I saw a medium in England who said it was a ghost and nothing to worry about, and I haven't seen it since. But it's odd that I only saw it last month and now Mister Ravion is dead." Dakari said, scratching his long stubble nervously.
"Could be nothing," Nihilus mumbled, walking on. "But... could perhaps be not. Grinning and laughing you say? Hmm. It is perhaps well that I have... something to give you. If the Betrayer has sent his agent to you already then it may help you while I... cannot."
The strange man unbuttoned his coat and reached inside, lifting out a particularly unremarkable short dagger sheathed in an equally uninteresting scabbard. He drew the blade free from the sheath and turned it over in his hands before pushing it back inside and offhandedly passed it to Dakari.
"Try not to draw attention to it, yes, and most won't notice it's even... there."
Anathkash fully unsheathed the weapon. It wasn't any more imposing than his flick knives. "How?"
"You know I can't explain that," he grinned. A gruesome sight, as his teeth were in worse condition than Dakari's. "But I can tell you it will be of more help to you than those... ha, toothpicks you have. Should you need to use it... at least."
Dakari put the blade away and clipped it to his belt beneath his trench coat, as he did so Nihilus stepped into his path to face him.
"I must leave you now, I have... already exposed myself for longer than I'd have liked."
"But how will I contact you?"
"You will not. I will come to you again, as I have done today... and we will talk more, should we need to. You know already what it is that you must do, Anathkash."
"It's not as simple as that!"
"Sadly... it must be. Farewell Anathkash Dakari. Do not let shadow misguide you."
And that was that. Nihilus walked away and Dakari watched him go, his curious limp carrying him at an unexpectedly high speed along the street until he disappeared out of sight. The wrestler looked again at the blade on his belt and wondered what made it so special.
With a mental shrug he headed back on the path to his hotel. Woes for another day.
