Mirrors

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or the Boys within. I know this, you know this, they know this. Everyone knows this. So please don\'t sue. Wouldn\'t do you any good anyway. All I own is a breath mint...

Rating: Pending...
Pairings: 1x2, maybe others later on...
Warnings: yaoi, blood, violence, AU, OOC, Heero POV, angst, dark, etc...
Comments: Please do send feedback. I love feedback. I live off of feedback.. The fic was supposed to be angsty at the most, but it went majorly dark on me all of a sudden. I hope this doesn\'t say anything about me...


Mirrors
By: Ashkah

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Have you ever expreienced those points in your life where you end up sitting back and going through the events in your lifetime, recounting the things that happened which led to the point you were then? I have, many times. Everytime I happen upon a mirror in fact. It\'s almost scary to think where I\'d be if events hadn\'t played out the way they had. Have you ever seen the movie \'Sliding Doors\'?[1] The thought that changing the outcome of one event could alter your life completely? What if you hadn\'t chosen that school? What if you had agreed to go with your group of friends for the summer? What if you adopted a dog instead of a cat? What if...

What ifs. That line of thinking no longer applies to me. What is done is done and I can\'t go back and manipulate that. Not as if I\'d want to mind you, I\'m perfectly happy the way I am. It\'s just that sometimes I wonder if it was all worth it. Would I have been happier if I hadn\'t accepted the case? Then I look at where I am and all thoughts even touching along that line fly right out the window. However, no matter how many times those thoughts are chased away, they always come back at one glance of a mirror; an object which, like a camara, never lies; one which shows me no reflection.


Sixty years earlier...


Another dead body. Damnit! Not again. This was the tenth one this month. Never mind the fact that this was a convicted felon, rapist to be exact. I didn\'t much care about that. The less of them on the streets, the better. No, the victims didn\'t much concern me, not as much as how they died anyway. We must really be dealing with a psycho. I can\'t see how anyone would want to drain a person of their blood as a method of killing. What\'s even more sickening is that there is no trace of their blood anywhere, so I have reason to believe that our killer is keeping it as souviners of his hits. Did I mention this guy\'s a psycho?

The victims are always found in the morning. Always draped somewhere, almost with care, in some dark ally. I knew from the get go this case would give me an insufferable headache. Psycho or no, this guy was good. No fingerprints, no DNA, nothing to clue us in that they were even killed by the same person, except their drained blood. Those in the office have taken to calling this the \'Vampire Case\', but that\'s just utterly absurd. Any self-respecting person knows that vampires don\'t exist. And even on the off chance that such creatures do inhabit our surroundings, it seems highly unlikely that we could have gone so long without noticing their presense. I think it might be another wacko who thinks he\'s Dr. Javorkian[2], or Dr. J as we like to reto hto him. He was a sick bastard too.

I sat at my desk looking over the backgrounds and physical traits of the current victims. Caucasion, African American; blond hair, black hair; male, female; blue eyes, green eyes. Not even their crimes or supposed jobs were the same. Nothing. Great. Our guy isn\'t prejudice. That\'s nice.

I mentioned before that all the bodies were found lying in dark allies. Well, that\'s not entirely truthful. The first two victims were actually found in the woods outside our city by two different hunting groups. The second one just three days after the first. The whole thing just creeped me out because I think this person wanted us to find the bodies. I felt like Morgan Freeman in \'Kiss the Girls\' or \'Along Came a Spider\'.[3]

\"Oi, Yuy! The Chief wants to see you in his office.\"

\"Hn.\"

Oh wonderful, just what I need, another \'inspirational speech\' from the blockhead who calls himself our Chief. Really, if he is so interested in getting this case solved then why doesn\'t he get off his lazy ass and do something for a change instead of sitting in his office giving orders. I\'m pretty sure you actually have to do something to become a Police Chief, but I swear I haven\'t even seen the man so much as shift in his seat.

The Chief was a big, burly, overweight man. His hair thinned in the back and he always had one of those expensive cuban cigars in his mouth that stank up the place like nothing. When he got angry, he looked like those cartoon guys who start yelling and the cigar stays in the mouth the whole time. I went into his office and braced myself for what I knew was coming.

\"Yuy! Have you been able to single out any suspects in your case yet?\"

I winced at the tone. Prick. He already knew the answer to that question. I think he gets some kind of perverse pleasure out of watching me fail.

\"Not at the moment. Thatesatest discovery uncovered nothing new.\"

A satisfied smile spread across his face then. Aparently that was just what he wanted to hear. Although something told me that it wouldn\'t of mattered if I had said that he was a suspect. I began to think that this little exchange had been all he called me in for, and was about to leave, when he reached down and pulled out a folder from one of his desk drawers. Wow, he moved. Guess there is a first for everything.

\"I\'m not stupid enough to completely pull you from this case, but I am pretty sure you can\'t handle this one on your own. That is why I have taken the liberty of calling in an outside consultant on this. He should be here sometime in the next couple of days.\"

Twitch. What? How dare he? If I had needed a consultant I would have went out myself and found one that I could trust. I narrowed my eyes and clinched my fists at my sides. I was not happy about this.

\"What makes you think that this one would be of any more help then someone I could have called up?\"

Okay, yeah, I know. Pretty dumb question to ask your Chief, right? What can I say, I was pissed! It didn\'t help matters any that the smile he had somehow transformed itself into a smirk.

\"This guy is an expert in the world of the supernatural.\"

Excuse me?! He just did not... If I wasn\'t so angry at that point, I would have gawked at him. He couldn\'t possibly be serious! This had to be a joke. The whole vampire deal was getting way out of hand. I don\'t believe this. The whole precinct had gone insane! I couldn\'t contain my anger any longer.

\"This guy is a demented nut case, not some fictitional vampire! Has the cigar smoke gone to your brain? We aren\'t playing out some X-Files[4] rerun, this is the real world!\"

I slammed the palms of my hands on his desk to stress my point.

\"Watch what you say to me, Yuy, or else I won\'t hesitate to fire you for insubordination! As cops we are expected to investigate every angle, you know this!\"

Who was he to dictate to me the basics of the job? He hasn\'t done a damn thing.

\"Assuming this guy is a vampire is not an angle, its a fantasy! A pretty disturbing one to be exact. I won\'t waste my time following a lead that isn\'t real!\"

I should have known that my arguing wouldn\'t have mattered. The Chief was just as stubborn as he was lazy. It almost rivaled my own, almost. Just because I had to be forced into working this angle, didn\'t mean I had to like it. It also didn\'t mean I had to cooperate with who ever this guy was.

\"My decision has already been made and it stays final. Now get out of my office! I\'m sick of you already. I don\'t want to so much as see you for the rest of the day.\"

I scowled. Arrogant son of a bitch. I\'d love it if I didn\'t have to ever see him again. I was more then happy to oblidge his order. I had been getting sick of looking at him as well.

\"Cheh....my pleasure!\"

I turned on my heels and stalked out of the office, making sure I slammed the door on my way out. Looking back, I kind of feel sorry for the unfortunsoulsouls who were on the other side of that door. Fixing anyone who so much as looked at me funny with my patented death glare, I returned to my cubicle and plopped down in my chair. Sighing, I hit my head on the desk and left it there. Things just kept getting better and be did didn\'t they? Next he\'ll be calling in psychics and self-proclaimed witches. Hell, might as well talk with a ghost or two while we\'re at it. Maybe we could call back the souls of the victims and ask them what happened.

I didn\'t leave the office until after dark that night. It was getting to become a habit of mine; work late, come in early, get bitched at by the Chief for not getting anywhere, then doing it all over again. Some collegues of mine began to wonder if I slept here during the nightwishwish. Sleep anywhere would be a more then welcome commodity. This case had turned me into a wondering insomniac, pacing the floor of my living room at three am in the morning. I knew this night would be no different.

My apartment wasn\'t far from the precinct so I took the option of walking to and from work on most days, getting the exercise demanded to keep myself in good physical condition. It also gave me time to myself, time I could spend on things that didn\'t involve my career. Things like my crappy social life. I hardly went out to places to begin with, usually only agreeing to acompany a small group of people I work with to dinner or something of the like. However, since I accepted this case, I haven\'t even had time to do that. The women call me anti-social. I think they\'re just upset that I never take them up on going to clubs and things. I\'m not anti-social, really. I just hate large crowds of people. I\'m not shy either, I just have my reasons.

I turned my head to gaze at my reflection cast in one of the store front windows. I do that a lot, look at myself in a mirror or window. Don\'t know why really. It\'s not that I\'m vain. I do consider myself to be okay looking, though. Well, except for the mop of messy brown hair I have that seems to maintain a mind of it\'s own. It\'s really just a small habit I\'ve had ingrained in me since I was little.

I retain an odd feeling of comfort knowing that I can see myself in a mirror. My mother used to tell me that mirrors were like cameras in that they always show what\'s real in life. When you gaze into a mirror and see yourself you can always be confident that you really do exist. Maybe it was from her I picked the habit up. I can\'t remember why she gave me that speach, but that particular moment of wisdom never left me after she died. Even to this day I have a mirror in every room of my apartment, kitchen not withstanding. One is tucked nicely in my wallet and one sits reasuringly on my desk.

When I reached the corner of the first block, I halted. Something wasn\'t right. I could feel someone behind me. I turned, but came face to face with an empty street. No one there. Okay... Not seeing anyone there, however, didn\'t help ease the feeling of awareness. If anything, it only agitated it more. This is why I hate going out. Something like this always happens. The smaoiceoice in my head telling me that the scene is amiss in some way. I came to the conclusion then that it would probably be best if I rushed the rest of the way back home. Things would feel the way they should after seeking refuge in the familiarity of my apartment.

Entering the lobby of my apartment complex, I removed my overcoat. During the winter time the owners always kept the heater on full blast. One of the better accomidations of this place. The elevator chimed its arrival and I stepped inside, pressing the button for the sixth floor. I exited the elevator when it stopped and noticed that the only artificial light source was wavering between on and off, casting an erie glow on the hallway. I wish they\'d hurry up and get that damn thing fixed. It\'s been like that for days now. It didn\'t help my mood at all.

I saw an odd shadow being cast across the floor asppropproached the door to my apartment. A small envelope leaned up against my doorframe. On closer inspection, it was any ordinary white envelope. It contained no return address to give a clue as to who left it, and the only reason I even knew it was for me was that my name had been carefully written in the center. The calligraphy reflected almost an archaic style of writing, as if imitating the styles used in the 19th century. Intriguing.

I let myself in, setting the keys and the envelope on the coffee table, threw my briefcase onto the couch, and tossed my overcoat into the closet. I glanced at my reflection as I passed the mirror hanging in my living room on the way to my bedroom. Then I went to take a shower. Hot showers always help to relax me after I have one of those episodes. It\'s like the water washes away the erie feelings. It was in the shower when a thought occured to me. The presence stayed longer then normal. The after affects of the feeling always remain for some time, I knew that, but the presence had definitely disappeared a little after I entered the complex. That was not comforting...it practically followed me home. The hot water did nothio sto stave off the shiver which ran down my spine. Even cops can get paranoid, okay?

Putting on my most comfortable boxers and tank, I went into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. I most definitely wasn\'t getting any sleep tonight. Good thing I broumy wmy work home with me. After the coffee finished and I poured myself a cup, adjusting its strength, I went to open my laptop and check my e-mail. The envelope sat solitarily on top of it. Strange, I could have sworn I placed that thing on the table. Oh well, I was preoccupied when I came home, I must have remembered wrong. I set the coffee mug onto a coaster and picked up the envelope. There didn\'t appear to be anything dangerous about it. Just a regular envelope.

I opened it and my senses were overwhelmed with the scent of...jasmine! Oh don\'t tell me this is a love letter. What is this person playing at? I\'m twenty-six years old. Pulling out the folded piece of paper nestled inside, I fully expected to read about how some woman has become smitten with me. Nothing could have prepared me for what was really on that paper. A message, lettered in the same archaic style as my name, and written in what suspiciously looked like... No, that can\'t be right. Blood?!

I\'m watching you.
I know you want me.
I want you too.
Blue Meadow Lake, midnight tomorrow night.
East side. Come alone.
I\'ll be waiting, Detective...

My serial killer wanted to make contact.


to be continued...
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1.) A very interesting movie and it was well played off. Kudos to the actors and acresses who made that movie possible.

2.) Yes I am refering to who you think I am, and yes I am aware that the name is spelled wrong. The J was put in on purpose as a bit of a joke. Don\'t blame me if it wasn\'t funny.

3.) \'Kiss the Girls\' is a really good movie. If you haven\'t seen it then I suggest you do. \'Along Came a Spider\' is also a good movie. Or so I hear. I haven\'t actually seen that one. Maybe I will some day soon, when I have more time. Summer would be nice....

4.) A lot of Pop Culture refs being made huh...*smile*.