Century - A Tale

   Night dawned, and somewhere a girl screamed.
   A mother caressed her daughter’s hair softly, leaning over the limp girls body. "My darling girl…" She whispered, breathing between heavy sobs of pain and grief. She kissed the blond haired girls forehead softly, and slowly stood up, the girl in her arms. Walking into the four roomed house, she laid the girl on a lone bed in a room to the left, turning to come face to face with a younger looking man, only seeming to be in his mid-twenties.
   "You killed her!" she screamed at him, making to slap him, but he mearly grabbed her hand with lightning fast reflexes, holding it tight and kissing her finger tips. She tried to pull away, but he held tight.
   "No I didn’t, Laurica. You did." He gave a spine tingling smile; to cold to be fake. "You’re the one that lied to me. I can’t let you live with that guilt, now can I? I cirtianly think not." With those same fast reflexes, he un sheathed a dagger and swiftly let it fall over her throat. It was the second and last scream of the night.
   The man picked up Laurica gently, laying her on the bed beside her cold daughter, wiping the blood from his hands on a hankerchife. He kisses Laurica on the forehead softly, whispering, "We could have been wonderful together, Laurica, you and me." He sighed, and fled out the door, blending with the darkness outside, as he should have. He was no better then the devil himself.

Chapter One

   How many girls had he gone through, seeking for the right one to be by his side? All his choices had magic, of course, for normal humans wouldn’t be powerful enough. He had truly loved Laurica, there was no doubt about that, but she had gone and lied to him and betrayed him, thus why he had to move from his home in New York City, all the way to a small town in Montana. And why he had had to kill Laurica and her darling daughter, Satin.
   It didn’t take much for him to move, no, he just went to the town in Montana, and killed an elderly couple, covering as a distant grandchild of theirs who had inherited everything they owned. It was a good cover for him, and moving ment more young women that he could sort through, looking for the right one.
   No matter where he went, though, he kept his first name, altering his last when needed. Here, he was Arson Brooks. When he had met Laurica, he’d been Arson Vector. His original name, you ask, was Arson Canbridge.
   Settleing down into an oversized velvet armchair, he sighed, his head falling back, his crimson eyes closing. "Ah, Pyro, never thought I’d see you here." He heard, eyes lazily opening. Standing before the crackling fire was a cat, smiling smugly before morphing into a slender woman, leaning on the fireplaces mantle. "Never though I’d see you either, Sail." He grumbled, sitting up in the armchair, and putting on a bored appearence. "Why are you in my home, Sail?"
   The woman, tall with long straight brown hair, blonde and black cleverly blended in. Her eyes were the same; caramel with golden flecks. Sail chuckled lightly, and shook her head. "It’s not your home, Pyro." She announced slyly, using the nickname of Pyro. "It’s Mr. And Mrs. Brooks’ home. Their names are on the deed." She pointed out. Arson gave her that same cold smile. "No, not anymore. Not after I "inherited" it. My name is on the deed now."
   Sail looked slightly surprised. "Arson Canbridge is on it then?" She asked, surprised look fading devilishly. Arson glared at her. "No, Arson Brooks is." Sail gave a bitter laugh, and walked forward, sitting in a slightly smaller armchair, tracing her finger along the swirling pattern.
   Arson gave another tired sigh. Couldn’t she take a hint? "What are you doing here, then. Other then to annoy me?" He saw Sail give another flicker of a smile, but it quickly turned into a frown. "I heard about a girl and her daughter dieing in New York. A blade to each their throats. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this would you?" She looked at him from the corner of her eye, and saw him flinch slightly. She knew he had done it, his scent had been all over the place when she’d gone to investigate the deaths.
   "I might." He anwsered cooly, closing his eyes again. Sail looked at him disgustedly. "She was a little girl, Arson! She was only seven." She shouted angrily. He opened his eyes again, and snapped back. "At least she’ll be with her mother in Heaven, and not going from foster home to foster home like I did!" This silenced her. She knew of his hard childhood, but it gave him no reason to take the girls life. "What’s your excuse for the woman, then, I believe she was called Laur something..."
   Arson pushed himself back into the oversized chair. He had to stay calm right now. He wasn’t some psycho killer who murdered on a whim. He killed when he had to, and no more. "Her name was Laurica, and her daughter was Satin." Sail shook her head. "I’ve known you to kill before, Arson, and I know that you’ve always tried to kill painlessly, but a little girl?" She stood up, the rim of her silver gown brushing against the dusty floor. "Just think about what you’ve done, Arson, and what you will do."
   Nothing came from Arson, just a shake of his hand as a dismissal. Sail shook her head, and morphed back into a calico cat, jumping out the two story window, vanishing from sight.
   On the table beside the chair was an already poured glass of scotch in all it’s gleaming glory. With a hand, he picked it up, and drank what was left down, giving a mild shushing sound before pulling himself up from the chair. A black raven sat on the window sill, giving a soft caw. "Good night, Break." He gave a tired laugh, and exited the room, turning into a darkly colored room. He crashed on the bed, falling into a deep slumber.

<*> - <*> - <*>

   Arson awoke to the harsh cawing of Break, the raven from the night before. He groaned some, the bird seeming to want to get him up. "I’m up, so shut up, you darn bird. The only reason I have you around is because I was in need of a companion." He rubbed his now bright yellow eyes, scribbling down a few words on the notepad beside the bed: Note to self - Never choose Raven as pet.
   He finally heard the gong of the doorbell ringing, far too sharply for his liking. Being what he was, his ears were more inhanced then most. "I’m comming!" He yelled down the hall way, darting to his closet, and quickly getting dressed. He wore a pair of dark scarlet dress pants, a white shirt, a dark scarlet overcoat, and a silver and red stripped tie. His black hair was naturaly spiky when cut short, and his eyes shifted to match his out fit; bloody red. They wouldn’t freak anyone out, he knew, since now days they had color contacts. He just had to remember to not change his eye color when a human was looking.
   Arson had finished pulling on his scarlet overcoat when he reached the large oak doors, pulling one open to come face to face with a man in a blue officers uniform. He looked to be about in his mid-fortys, with thinning brown hair, looking a bit over weight. Arson put on the innocent face of someone who’d just lost his grandparents. Arson knew why the officer was here, and had nothing to fear, but couldn’t help but to be on gaurd. It was only natural for him.
   The man flashed his golden badge. It was funny how humans thought a badge actually proved something. "I’m officer William Shoford, here about the will and deed for the house." Arson nodded his head blinking and opening the door wider. "Come on in, Officer."
   Officer Shoford dipped his hat to him, then walked in. "I heard a bird earlier when I first rang the bell. My wife has a canary. What do you have?" Arson almost rolled his eyes. Officer Shoford was obviously one of the I-want-to-be-your-friend cops. "Oh, it’s just a bird that makes his home in the attic. He doesn’t cause any trouble, so I allow him to stay there." He anwsered cooly, motioning to a dark blue armchair. "Sorry, haven’t gotten the fire started yet." He said again, the officer having a seat, and pulling out a folder filled with thick documents. Arson leaned against another chair. "Can I offer you a drink?"
   The officer shook his head, popping a pen from his pocket. "Now, about the will of your grandparents. The money will go to your bank account. Remember, though, they wanted half of it to go to charity, so you’ll only get half." Arson nodded understandingly, pouring himself a glass of scotch. He seemed to have a bottle in every room.
   Officer Shoford started again, "About the house." He skimmed over a page from the folder, "It says you are to have it put in your name and everything in the house is yours, Mr. Brooks." Arson nodded again. "I’ll need to see some ID and get your signature in a few places, then I’ll be out of your hair." Arson sat the glass of scotch down. "I’ll be back. Just going to fetch my ID."
   He made his way up the stairs, whispering to the raven at the top of the stairs. "Keep an eye on him, and make sure he doesn’t get into anything that doesn’t belong to him." The bird gave a silent caw, and flew down, perching up high to do his bidding.
   The ID wouldn’t be a problem, since he had had one made a week or two ago. It stated all the obvious: black hair, blue eyes, 5’10’’, male, ect. He fingered the card some, wondering how many he had had in the last years when he had to change his name.
   "Here you go, Officer Shoford." Arson handed over the card, and the officer handed back after only a few moments. " I must admit, I’ve never heard of someone named Arson. All right, I need you to sign here, here, and here." He pointed to three places on two different pieces of paper.
   With quick, slanted writing, he signed what and where he was suppose to, making sure his new signature was like the one on his new ID. The officer nodded his head in approval as Arson signed, standing up and tucking the newly signed papers into the folder, and under his arm. "Anything else I can help you with, sir?" Arson asked, smiling kindly, a thing he seldom did.
   Officer Shoford shook his head, reaching out and shaking Arson’s hand. "No, I think that about raps it up for me. Thank you for the cooperation, Mr. Brooks. I’ll show myself out." Arson watched him leave, though, and made sure he’d drove away before he climbed the stairs. On the second floor, he went to the study, his favorite room in the house, and poured himself a glass of water; he’d save the scotch, he decided.
   By now it was around nine a.m. and he had a few things planned for the day already. He wouldn’t go looking for a job right yet, since he had money from the will, and money saved up under several other names in several other places around the nation. Still, he needed to do a little look around of the town, figure out what moon it was, and sleep. He had a long night ahead of him.
   Break flew in and landed on the back of his chair, cawing softly, telling him he needed to get going. He chuckled softly. "I’m going, don’t worry. I expect you’ll watch the house while I’m away?" Arson stood up from the chair, and went downstairs, out the door, and drove towards the town in a sleek black convertable.

There is more, so if anyone wants to read more, just....ask.

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