True Friends Stab You In The Front [Rin&Virtualoo]

[♠[Rin]♠]

Rin's Character:

 

 

Name: Eliot Wright.

Age: 27.

Occupation: Detective of the London Crime Department.

Height: 1,74 M.

Nationality: British.

 

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London's streets were always demotivating and ugly. Had always been. It was early in the morning thus the sun had just risen and the night sky's blue above was slowly retreating to make space for the bright yellow of the day. The year was 1884 and Queen Victoria was pushing the UK and the colonies towards a new voting right. Now, while the world was evolving, London’s streets weren’t. It took Eliot Wright only one step out of the apartment complex to see a pair of children run through the rain that was mercilessly pelting down. The children’s jackets which were too big for them were soaked and strands of their hair were sticking to their wet faces. The crowd of tired people going to work or looking for a cab was moving slowly on the pavement, as if time was slowing down, but the children were small enough to fit through as they ran, jumping through little holes in between the people as if it was a game, until they left the frame of Eliot’s sight. He lifted his gaze to check the situation of the weather and luckily the clouds seemed to part and brighten. Back when he had been a kid he hadn’t cared about the weather either because it always rained here in London. He had run around like a maniac, dirtying his clothes, accidently stumbling and falling into a puddle. He hadn’t been his mother’s favourite child, but she didn’t have a choice back then because he had been her only one.

A car hooted and dragged Eliot out of his current train of thought. He sighed as he realized once again that he hadn’t slept well nor for many hours and was once more on his way to a crime scene. He had been hired three months ago and received the case of the retired detective. It wasn’t as bloody as Jack the Ripper had been, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t gruesome. All in all, it was definitely a serial killer and one person. The same scenario repeated every Wednesday, at one point it felt like waiting for a newspaper to come by, and frankly speaking, the “publisher” was reliable and always on time.

Eliot was dressed in his usual beige trench coat, his hands covered up against the cold by black leather gloves and he was carrying his dark brown brief case in his right hand. He had gotten it from his father as a graduation gift from the police academy back in 1878. He had to work his way up to the position he was now in, which he had been harsh and cruel, but now he worked his dream job. Right?

Eliot spotted a cab parking at the pavement and quickly squeezed through the crowd to climb into the bright yellow car. “To the old butcher,” he swiftly said. The driver glanced into the mirror to check whether or not the person sitting on the back seat was trustworthy. By the time Eliot had started to work for the police he had been forced to notice how many crimes actually happened. It was 34, to be precise, and they used to happen at the same time, which required many differently educated officers, which wasn’t possible, because the academy didn’t offer specific education themes. It was questionable how simple the system of the judiciary was. Single murders, serial murders, accidental murders, theft, drug crimes, gun possessions – even beatings – were put in the same cartons for officers to take and investigate. This and many other factors had given the public a reason to grow a mistrust towards the law.

The driver nodded his head eventually and rolled out of the parking zone to get on the street. It took them half an hour to reach the other East London. The butcher shop had been closed for two years due to financial reasons and who would think two drunk men on their way home would find a corpse in the shop window?

 

Eliot paid the driver and climbed out of the cab, which drove away right away. This place wasn’t god-forsaken, but the feeling of loneliness hovered over the East. Most families who lived here were average in income, at least officially, because unofficially they often fought for survival.

A police car was already here and two officers were busy taking pictures and making sure that no unbidden guests were going to dirty the crime scene. Technology had evolved a lot in the past few decades, but electric lamps on the streets wouldn’t tell who did it. Eliot was greeted by an elder man in a brown coat and white hair along with a grey moustache. “How’re you?” he asked smiling. His teeth were slightly stained yellow and he had grown a potbelly over the years. “Went to bed early this time?”

“Morning, Eddison,” Eliot said. His smile was only faint. “Not really.”

“Take care, boy,” the elder said seriously. He lifted his umbrella to make both of them fit under it. “Don’t make a case haunt you in your dreams.”

“It’s just the same I’ve heard at the academy, don’t worry,” Eliot promised. Together they approached the crime scene. One of the officers, who had now been searching the victim’s possessions, looked up and took a step to the side for the detectives to take a closer look. “His name was Murphy Anders, just turned 18, lives in the Conner Street in the North,” the man said. Eliot nodded in thankfulness. He stepped onto the threshold of the broken door and knelt to examine the body. The window glass was broken on both sides, leaving fragments of glass surrounding the petite corpse. The boy was blonde, pale and wearing a white shirt, a black vest and brown trousers. He was lying on his back, his head tilted to the side. Dirt and dust had aggregated in the corners of the shop window, making even the corpse look clean despite the deep, thin holes in his chest.

“Right through the heart,” Eddison said. “Just like always.”

“He knows what he’s doing,” Eliot replied. His eyes traced the chest area. The blood was dark because it had directly come from the heart and had cascaded down on the left ribs, colouring the shirt and the pale skin of the left upper arm. Due to the body lying on the back, less blood than one would expect had left it and therefore hadn’t found its way down the right side of the chest. All in all, the little blood puddles and lines looked like blooms of a flower, and the hole in his heart was the nectar.

Eliot moved over to turn the dead boy’s head. His eyelashes were just as blonde and gave this appearance a way colourless look, thus the purple and blue marks on his arms stood out well.

“Defensive wounds,” Eddison concluded.

Eliot shrugged. “Our killer is strong.” His hazel eyes ghosted over the rest of the body, before he stood up. “He is physically able to fight and carry bodies, as we know. Young men only, what means he isn’t afraid of buffed people.”

“What if he does it to demonstrate his strength?” Eddison questioned.

“Or someone else’s weakness,” Eliot continued. He looked back to his elder working partner. This case had been different from every other one right from the start. Every case he had seen at the academy, as a police officer, as a normal citizen, every other case hadn’t been this mentally gruesome. Every new corpse looked different yet reminded Eliot of the same person. Jasper. Jasper Stanbury. They had not only grown up together but had dreamed about the same job: Police. As expected from young boys, it had taken them a while to stop doing nonsense and cause trouble for their parents and the teachers in school. One time, they had found an anthill and had taken as many ants with them as possible to take them to Eliot’s home and have them there like a kingdom. An ant kingdom. Sadly, they hadn’t thought about putting them into a box, so they had been running around the entire house. Eliot couldn’t think of any moment his parents had been madder at him than that. Thinking of Jasper always put a smile on his face at first, but it was replaced by sorrow really quick. At the age of 18, Jasper had been kidnapped and found dead two months later. His body had been burnt, his teeth smashed, and his toes and fingers had been cut off. The only reason why the police had been able to tell that it was Jasper was because they had found a private possession next to the body – his pocket watch. A golden, old-fashioned pocket watch with a flower and the saying “Time is like a flower – Beautiful but always ends for all” engraved on it. The picture of the body had been in the newspapers for weeks, but the case had never been solved.

 

“He’s probably not as old as his victims are,” Eddison said. “Those boys are obviously substituting for someone else. The question is whether or not that someone is still alive.”

“It’s hard to say,” Eliot nodded. “The hair colour changes and most young men are often out at night. The truth is that it isn’t hard to find someone and stab them in the chest, but…” He looked over his shoulder into the abandoned butcher shop. The glassed bar was still there and the empty shelves as well. Layers of dust covered everything, and parts of the wooden floor had been ripped out or pushed in. There were no windows on the back side, therefore the only source of light came from the shop window and left half of the shop in darkness. “But not everyone knows where exactly the heart is,” Eliot continued. “Only doctors are allowed to cut corpses privately and only medical students are allowed to see it. To study medicine is very expensive.”

“Do you think our killer is a doctor?”

“No, but he may know a few things about the human body, which makes him more dangerous.” Eliot slid his hands into the pockets of his trench coat and stepped out of the butcher shop. The rain had lightened and by now it was only small drops dripping down from the sky. He breathed the rainy air in through his nose and searched for a moment to relax, but it wasn’t given. The noises of cars and people walking cut through the calm of the abandoned place. The newspaper journalists had found them.

[virtualoo]

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)_(Tales_of_nephilim)?file=Dracul_male_form.jpg

 

Name: Jasper Stanbury

Age: 26, will be turning 27 in a month at this time

Occupation: Serial Killer

Height: 1,82 m

Nationality: British

 

 

Wednesday...Another glum early evening in the East...and another body to take by his knife. Jasper leaned against an alley ways walls, the sky starting to show its hues of dark blues and purples as the evening street lights seemed to twinkle underneath their color. It was time to play his favorite game of the week..Who would be the unfortunate young lad that would fall victim to the cold end of his blade.

 

Ah...Here he comes now...

 

A young lad who could not have been any older than he was when he was about to graduate from the academy. You picked the wrong night to walk down this street boy...He thought to himself as he waited for the perfect moment to strike. Who he was and why he was here was none of his concern..The only thing he knew was that it was his time to die. Jasper came up behind the young lad and covered his mouth with his white gloved hand, the young boy struggling for his life. Yes boy, struggle....I like it when they fight back!

 

The boy caused such a fuss in fighting back, it even sent them back through the door of the abandoned butcher shop behind them. What a mess..He thought as he thrust his blade into the young boys heart, his glove muffling the young boys screams. Jasper watched as the light left his eyes, wiping off the big blood splatters on his blade on the forming pool of blood to clean his blade. He did not leave any fingerprints as he wore gloves and he kept his hair tied back so not even his hair would be found at the scene. Come find him pigs...How long will it take this time? Jasper had fled the scene, watching from the shadows nearby as it took at least an hour for some homeless men to find him laying there. Now..time to watch my little game for today.. He thought as he waited for the police to arrive, leaving the area until they would arrive, stashing his knife and bloodied gloves into his coat pocket.

 

They were quick...You were never this quick in trying to find me..Jasper thought as he watched and waited for all of them to show up, watching from a few blocks down. They were pushing back curious eyes as more of the pigs showed up. And then a cab came around and there stood Eliot. Ah Eliot, you really have grown into your uniform after all these years, always so serious..Jasper smirked to himself as he watched him go to work quick. Even you can't figure it out can you..? He always killed the same type and gender, always ones that at least looked around how old he was when he had died. They never seemed to get the hint..Not even you my dearest Eliot. It made the chase far more interesting watching him work, watching try and find this elusive 'Heart Breaker'. It seems I will need to continue my little game some more my fair skinned love..He thought as he turned and left the scene.

[♠[Rin]♠]

The officers did their best to keep the journalists at bay. Eddison went to talk to some of them while Eliot returned to the body and put everything they had found into his brief case. His eyes once more met the pale face of the dead boy and he stopped for a moment to take a deep breath. "Don't connect this to Jasper," he thought to himself strictly. Jasper was dead, gone, forever astray. For some time Eliot had gone to church to pray for his dead friend, but it hadn't brought him any closer to inner peace. Nine years had already passed, yet he just couldn't let go. The images in his head didn't trigger him anymore, but he still felt like there was a hole in his chest. It sounded ridiculous in the face of the gruesome death he was seeing right before him. "It's just the stress," he told himself. "Calm down, Eliot."

 

Eliot and Eddison returned to the headquarters. The corpse was sent to the morgue while Eliot threw his trench coat over his chair dropped down in the seat with a sigh. His partner grinned, shaking his head and taking a seat at his own office table right in front of Eliot's. Two desks formed a cube and the room fit about twenty cubes in it. Workes of the law, regardless of their title, lingered here. Many of them used to suddenly stand up and run around, making this place look like a busy bee gum.

"Coffee?" Eddison asked, though he didn't wait for Eliot to answer, instead he put a mug on the other other's table.

"Thanks," Eliot said, taking the mug into his hand while he dug up the Heart Breaker Killer case from his chaotically filled drawers. As soon as he found it, he put it on the table. It was thicker than most of the cases he had seen before, though most of those files were the information about the corpses. The truth was that they knew nothing about the killer except gender and that he was probably in his thirties. Other than that, he was a free, unknown man.

 

"You're writing the report?" Eddison said, nodding towards the case file.

"I thought that was obvious because you brought me coffee," Eliot answered.

"True," his partner smiled and stood up. "I'll talk to the boss about the latest news and ask for a..."

"For another case?" Eliot took a sip from his coffee and looked up. "I don't want another case."

"Boy, we all appreciate your dedication," the man said softly. "But maybe this is too hard for us and we should involve the military. Take the staff shortage into consideration."

"Give me another month," Eliot asked. "Please, Eddison. Please."

Eddison sighed, but he gave in. "One month."

Eliot smiled. "Thank you."

 

---

 

The day ended like every other one in the past few weeks: Eliot tiredly stumbled back into his apartment, locked the door three times and went into the kitchen to eat toast with butter on it, melt chocolate on the oven to drink it with milk and read through the latest reports to see if he had overseen anything. Unfortunately it was the same, they didn't oversee, they just didn't have enough clues. It was like the killer didn't exist and the victims just magically died. After that, the clock would often remind him of how late it really was. Despite that, he still took a bath and read a book while soaking himelf in burning hot water. The warmth helped his muscles to relax and the book helped to ease his mind. All the informatoin about his case were always flying around in his head, at some point he thought he was going either insane or depressed. He had seen a psychiatrist who had promied him that he was still fine.

"The worst day of the week is over," he told himself as he turned the page. "Calm." Eliot liked myths the best. They dared to kidnap him into a universe that didn't exist, a universe that wasn't his, a world where crimes were nothing more than stories. And this time, it was Puss in Boots.

[virtualoo]

Jasper watched as he seemed to busy himself over the body..always with that stern look on his face when he concentrated and was focusing on something. Something he always found adorable about the man..It even aged with him like a fine wine. But oh how he wanted to make the game far more...interesting for the both of them. He wanted to see that face twist and turn with emotion, to see that face again try to figure it all out and yet be so far away from the truth. My dear Eliot..Always my good friend but never acknowledged the feelings I held for you. My mind is now far gone my dearest, gone like all of the years that have passed. Gone like the police that never were...the police that never tried to find him. Months of torture broke his mind and he gave up on the profession he once idolized.

 

Jasper kept his distance, wanting to follow the other to see where he had lived. A small enough apartment..Jasper thought as he watched him go inside. If he did not know any better, reading a book and eating his melted chocolate with milk like they did growing up. A favorite of theirs...He thought as he lingered on the streets below. "Now...Eliot...It is about time we advance our little game here. It has been far too boring and it is time we light the paper on fire and watch it burn" Jasper smirked to himself before he slunk off into the shadows.

 

Now he would need to grab the others attention..Jasper thought to himself as he went off to his own home, on the far end of the East. He found a piece of paper and penned a note for his beauty, wanting to truly bring the man to his knees.

-Want to play a game, Eliot?-

Jasper wrote on the piece of paper, sealing the paper with a dark green wax. Now it would be time for the fun to begin Eliot..I am always watching you. I am always going to be there just out of sight. I am always yours my love..Jasper thought to himself with a small chuckle. Now...To prepare the next festivities for his party...and have Eliot be his guest of honor~!

[♠[Rin]♠]

The week passed by quicker than expected. Before Eliot knew it, the beeping tone of his telegraph woke him up at an unholy hour. He had always been a light sleeper, thus it was easy to wake him. He rolled onto his back and rubbed his eyes, sighing to himself in fatigue, before he dragged himself out of bed. He walked over to the telegraph and looked down to the written message: New body, come Ellen Street 14. It was the South this time. Another trick of the killer; because his victims have been found in almost every district, it was very hard to tell where he lived or where his circle of comfort was. He dared to leave and travel afar, but apparently also didn't mind killing in front of his own door.

 

Eliot was quick to brush his teeth, comb his hair, put on his uniform and be gone. He took a cab to the South. Mostly farmers lived here because of the nutritious ground. Eliot met Eddison right after climbing out of the car and was instantly informed about the newest corpse. His partner looked thrilled and shocked at the same time. "We have something new, boy, you won't believe it!" he said, his hands senselessly geasturing in the air. "Everything but the day is different. Take a look, come one!" He more or less dragged Eliot to an open dead end alley, where police officers were already cleaning up the place around the corpse. Eliot knitted his eyebrows as he approached the body. It wasn't a boy and he wasn't an adolescence, it was a young girl. One stab into the heart had sufficed. She was lying on her side in the corner, one leg over the other and her arm bent under her head to function as some kind of support. Her other arm was hanging down the back. Her left chest area was covered in blood, having coloured her purple turtleneck black. The pool of blood underneath her had circled her completely. It looked like she had lost most of the three to four liters of blood her body had contained. Her long brunette hair was spread on the dirty ground and hardly a few strands of it was sticking to the wound. At a different perspective, she was indeed looking like she was sleeping, though it left a bitter aftertaste.

 

"This is ... outragous," Eliot said, unsure how to react to this properly. Why would the unsub make such a drastic change? Was he mocking them for not finding him? Was he actually communitacing with the police now? Was he getting bored?

 

"This is Angela McCurtney, thirteen years old..." one of the police officers told Eliot, but the brunette wasn't listening. Instead, he was noticing something that was also different about the body. He knelt and examined the little bulge underneath her turtleneck beneath the stab wound. Carefully, he lifted the piece of garment with his gloved hands and revealed her stomach, which was unharmed, but an envelope was taped to it.

 

"What's that?" Eddison asked, looking over Eliot's shoulder. "I am not familiar with this seal stamp."

"Me neither," the brunette truthfully said. He undid the envelope, stood up and tore it open. He took out a letter, which he unfolded - and the words struck him with an unexpected cold.

 

Want to play a game, Eliot?

 

It didn't surprise him that someone knew his full name because the newspapers have been writing about this case for months now, but the mere words held something evil he couldn't describe. However, those words could just be empty. The killer was just messing with him, that was probably it. He didn't think that someone would get to him like that. He had been feeling a pair of eyes on him in the past few weeks during work, but that was the usual because people tended to stare.

"Doesn't look too bad," Eddison said, reading the letter as well. "If he dares to step out of the shadows, we'll get him."

"Definitely," Eliot agreed. "Hopefully he doesn't do it because he's bored." It was a good opportunity to make the unsub come at him. Eliot was confident with his weapon. It was true that he wasn't the strongest man, but he was intelligent and knew how to handle a gun. Murdering a detective would be a bold move - one of the boldest moves a killer could make.

 

Eliot and Eddison returned to the headquartes to take care of the paperwork. They chose to keep the letter a secret from the journalists to keep the public calm. As more his collegues were leaving and the room was getting empty, Eliot was scared by a bottle falling down a desk. "Jesus," he sighed to himself, looking up towards the clock. Eleven PM already. It was time to go home.

[virtualoo]

Jasper had spent most of that week planning out the next victim. He would need to make sure it draws the others attention..He did not want his beloved to think this was just another day. He had every intention to make sure he got into the others head..Now was really the time to mess with him. He really planned to get inside of his head...The very idea of seeing him jump and squirm as he got closer and closer was simply delightful~!

 

Now he truly had to prepare, for tomorrow will be the first night in a long line of fun nights for the both of them! First he would need to prepare the next participant of his game for Eliot, his last participant for a long time. His new objective for the game was Eliot directly..to see him confused and scared and maybe more. Jasper donned his gloves and prepared to go out for the evening, ready for his next victim, already having plans on what he would be looking for tonight.

 

Jasper found a random girl who seemed to be in quite a rush to catch up to someone, someone who had strayed too far away and not seemed to notice. He pulled the girl into the alleyway, another knife to the heart...Like Eliot had done to him for so long. It was an easy kill, the young female not being particularly strong so it was not a struggle at all. He slipped the sealed note into the young girls clothing and was quick to dash off before he risked getting himself caught. Now to set his plans to tease his dear Eliot over time..

 

The next day he made his way to a local bakery on the west end, asking for a box of bisquits drizzled in melted chocolate. A nice treat from out childhood dear Eliot..There will be no more killing...But you are the focus of our little game now Eliot. He took the box home, sealing the string tight with his signature dark green wax from his last note. He asked a young street boy passing by "Would you be a dear and deliver this to the police headquarters for me to an Eliot yound lad?" He said with a warm smile and placing a couple of coins in his hand. "Right away young one.." He said, watching him run off and smirked to himself.

 

Now Eliot...Consider this a gift. I am starting off rather gently considering the things I could do. I will get far worse so you best figure it out quick..He smirked as the boy rounded the corner with the treats. He decided to hang around the police station, staying amongst the crowd of late night travellers to follow Eliot home. He would keep a close eye on him over these next two weeks, making sure he knew that the dear Heart Breaker was always watching him.

[♠[Rin]♠]

The moment Eliot had grabbed his brief case and swung his trench coat over his arm on his way out of the headquarters, he was stopped by the secretary in the waiting hall. She was an elder woman who had worked here for a long time and refused to stop. That was a delightment for the entire staff because she truly did good work and was hardworking and dedicated. "Sorry to bother you, dear," she said, lifting up a wrapped box from the ground to hand it to the man. "This has been delivered a few hours ago for you."

"Thank you." Eliot, puzzled, took the box, however he was quick to recognize the seal on the top. Instantly, he turned back to the secretary. "Who has delivered this?"

"A young boy," she answered. "He said it was from some gloomy man."

Eliot knitted his eyebrows in confusion, his glance lowering back to the box.

"Is something wrong, detective?" the lady asked worried, but he shook his head. "No, I am fine," he lied. "Please enjoy your evening. It's so late, you should leave, too."

"Says the one who has been staying as well," she smiled.

 

Eliot left the headquarters. As he stepped out into the night, a cold breeze sprang up and welcomed him. The street was still a little wet and the lamps' light was reflecting in the puddles. The crowd of travellers and night-shift workers moved hastily along the pavement. Eliot looked around through his hazel eyes, but he couldn't catch anyone who looked suspicious in the dark of the night, then his eyes dropped back down to the box. He couldn't leave it here nor could he wake up Eddison at this hour. He expected the worst - a piece of a corpse, for example.

 

Eventually, he put the box into his brief case and made his way home. As soon as he was in the apartment, he locked the door and set his brief case on the table. He took out the box, which he set on the table top. The case was evolving so quickly. But why was the killer targeting him? Why not Eddison who had been with the police for years now?

 

"Jesus..." He moaned stressed. He stripped off his shoes and the trench coat in the hall and went right for the cupboard to take a shot of whiskey. "Calm down," he said. It was a good thing to be a workhaolic sometimes, an example was that there was no time for being an alcoholic. But right now, at this hour, that shot was needed. Why was this day so strange? Why now? Why not long ago? Why not in two weeks in the future?

 

Eliot went back to the table and gently unwrapped the box. The smell of buscuits was now noticeable to him and he narrowed his eyebrows. This was strange. Was this a trap? He opened the box, which contained chocolate-coated biscuits. This was ... this was strange. Weird to the say least. This was the treat he and Jasper had always had. Their mothers had spent hours cooking these back then.

Eliot drove a hand through his hair and closed the box. He crossed his arms and leaned against the kitchen bar. "Okay, concentrate," he mumbled to himself, bringing up his right hand to rub against his scalp. "Concentrate," he repeated. There was nothing connection at all between this killer and Jasper, now was it? There was now explanation for this. This unsub stabbed his victims, Jasper had been burnt to death. The level of violence differed too much. Was it two personalites? Was it a team? Had the unsub teamed up recently? Was he just messing with Eliot?

 

Eliot startled as he heard a dull thud outside his kitchen window. A groaned in annoyance and walked over to close the curtains. "It was a cat, it was my neighbour's cat," he told himself. "The buscuits could be a coincidence. Many people like them," he came up with excuses. This was not related to Jasper. Not at all. At least he wanted it not to be. After his friend's death he hadn't made any new friends and had left everyone at a distance. Even his parents had lost their mental connection to him. This was his job now and he had to move on.

[virtualoo]

Jasper watched outside the police headquarters as Eliot had left with his little gift in hand. "I hope you like it my little dove, my sweet Eliot.." He smirked to himself with a low chuckle from his hiding place, watching as he seemed to be on his way home for the evening. "Do not worry, it was only the beginning of the many things I have in store just for you. I will make sure you or those cops will never forget me..never again" Jasper's smirk grew wider as he took the back streets to keep out of sight as he followed the other home. He only had left once he entered his home for the evening, scaring a local cat that was nearby the apartment to scare his little Eliot.

 

Now...What sort of delights shall I bring you tomorrow? Oh...perfect...Jasper thought as he made his perfect next part to his plan. He quickly went toward his home and searched his bookshelves for something in particular. Perfect...Jasper thought as he pulled out a book about Greek myths. He can still remember even now Eliot was always a lover of myths and mythology, fairytales and the like. He knew so many things about Eliot, and he still never noticed is love for him. How much he had paid attention and clung to every word he had said for so many years.

 

Jasper made sure that he had no identifying marks on the book, holding it with a pair of gloves as he went about cleaning the covers as a precautionary measure. Once he deemed it satisfactory, he took the book over to his desk and yet again prepared the wax. He put the wax just above the title, stamping his stamp on the cover of the book. Another gift..To truly get under your skin for tomorrow morning. Jasper quickly left his home, easily finding his way back to Eliots, making sure he was not followed. He placed the marked book right in front of the others door, just as quickly disappearing into the dimly street lit streets, making his way home to plan even more surprises for his little game.

[♠[Rin]♠]

Eliot awoke to the chiming church clock. He sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes with his hand. The bright daylight of April was blocked by the heavy, old-fashioned curtains he had gotten from his grandmother. They were red-and-white striped and didn't fit into the white room with the blue furniture at all. He rolled out of bed and went to make a coffee, where he spotted the box on his kitchen table and was instantly reminded of the seriousness of life he was going through right now.

He fried two eggs and toasted a slice of bread which he coated with butter as breakfast. After eating, he went through his usual morning routine and wrapped the box he had received in plastic to prevent it from getting destroyed should it be raining outside. He put on his shoes, his tenchcoat, packed his brief case and left the aparment. Outside, he almost stumbled over something lying in front of his door step. "What the hell?" Eliot picked up the item. It was a book with the same wax seal on it like the box and the letter had had. It was a novel about Grecian myths.

 

Sceptical, Eliot looked around, but couldn't spot anyone who could have put it here. It was cold to the touch, thus he concluded that it might have been lying here all night. His glance dropped back down to the book. Why Grecian myths? Did the unsub refer to Eliot's love for mythology and fables?

Eliot shook his head. He closed the door and tucked the book into the plastic back as well, then moved on to his way to the police office.

 

He showed Eddison the items, who seemed highly confused by the sudden change in the case as well. "What if you are a target?" he said.

"Well, obviously," Eliot replied. "But I wouldn't know why. It appears he knows about the case of the murdered police student in 1875. That was one of my classmates." It was better to keep Jasper as a friend out of it. "And whatever he knows, he is referring to it bit by bit."

Eddison took the book into his hand and rose his eyebrows. "Do you believe in myths?"

"No," Eliot said.

"Did anybody else in your class back then?"

"I don't think so."

"We should look through the murder case of '75 and then check your prior classmates' carreer paths," Eddison suggested. "There is a chance one of them could be our killer."

 

They spent the whole day looking through Eliot's classmates lives, but there was hardly anything to find. Some of them had dropped out of the academy and worked as something completely else like hair dressers, shop sellers, construction workers, you name it. Others had spread throughout the country to help out and the variarity of titles was immense. Some were still street police officers, others had started to work at mental asylums or prisons. All in all, there was nothing standing out and Eliot couldn't remember if he had to do with anyone of the others other than being just classmates. It was a dead end - again.

[virtualoo]

Jasper planned on keeping notes of the others comings and goings throughout the next few days, planning on ina weeks or sos time, sending him a detailed listing of everything that he had done. Nothing to send emotions pounding through your heart like someone knowing every little thing you do at every moment of the day. Oh how perfect it would be to see his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to figure out what was going on. They even now still had no idea~!

 

But how to taunt him next? He could very well not send too many gifts to the others home otherwise he would be spotted far too quickly. He always had the police station as a method but he would have to diversify his delivery tactics. It would need to be sent across multiple people to cover up his tracks..and make sure he was covered for the very first person he sent off his next gift to. Sending him a gift directly to place in his hands was out of the question right now, Not wanting to be easily spotted just yet. Now was not the time to taunt him by dangling himself right in front of him.

 

Jasper kept watch over the others movements all day, plotting over how he could get inside the others head next. He could taunt him with various sounds and movements outside his home but the thrill of sending something was always as much fun. He had plans for far later, but that would be for another time. He didn’t want to use it just yet. Or perhaps he should...? No, too soon to be taunting you with music Eliot. He had picked up a copy of Sherlock homes from a shop far across town, leaning it with his seal on the others door step. Another book my little reader..Two in one day? You are quite special to me after all,,Jasper thought as he slink back into the shadows

[♠[Rin]♠]

As the day ended, Eliot was once again one of the last people to leave. He didn't think he would get another surprise today, but someone wanted him to. Eliot stopped right in front of the door, keys still in his hand. It was hard to make out the book in the dark because the street lamps were too far away to lighten the detective's door step well. The wind ruffled his hair. He picked the book leaning against his door up and traced his thumb over the dried wax seal on its cover. He took a look around, but nobody was there. Of course. He wasn't so stupid to just stand around the corner, right?

 

Eliot went inside and put the book on the table to inspect it. It was the famous Sherlock story which has been popular among the reading community of London. He himself had read it twice. "He's seriously making of me," Eliot mumbled to himself, looking through the pages. There was nothing in particular in the book, thus he concluded that the item itself as a whole was important, though he couldn't exactly say why. It could just be the simple thought of taunting the police for not being able to find the unsub, or he referred to Eliot's love for reading and his dedication to the law.

 

- - -

 

Eddison and Eliot did their best to make sense of everything, but no farther trace was found. The killing stopped all of the sudden. Eliot was convinced that the unsub was doing it secretly and stopped leaving the bodies to the police or that he changed his way of killing and that that was the reason they weren't finding any new ones on Wednesdays. Eventually, as it was common, the boss charged Eddison and Eliot with another case. A woman who had been missing for a week, nothing special. Of course, it bothered Eliot that there was something going on he couldn't explain and that he failed to see, but there was nothing to do if there wasn't a dead body.

 

It was a Saturday evening, a comfortable one. Knowing that he didn't have to work tomorrow was a relaxing thought to Eliot and it let him finally put his thoughts regarding to work to rest. He had taken the Heart Breaker killer file home for additional work to occupy his time. Because he didn't have any friends, he rarely went out and a Saturday night or Sunday would go to waste by doing nothing but read and clean the small apartment.

Eliot had changed into a comfortable jumper and a pair of trousers. He set the file down on the table in the living room along with a cup of melted chocolate. As he went through the reports, he found the letter again, which he stared at for solid five minutes, trying to make a sense out of the words. "What kind of game is it?" he asked himself. His hazel eyes wandered through the room and stopped upon spotting a dusty chess board sitting on a dresser. Eliot stood up to take the board and put it down on the table as well, dropping back onto the couch. "A game can only be played by two people," he said. He picked up one of the chess pieces and advanced it forward. "What is he waiting for? What am I supposed to do? What is eluding me?" It was frustrating at this point. Was he supposed to be scared?

 

Eliot looked over to the window at the other end of the room. He wasn't scared of anyone breaking into his home. "If he wanted me dead, he would have done it already," he concluded. The orange light of the ceiling lamp crafted shadows of the few pieces of furniture in the room and the one plant he owned which was located in the corner. No background noise was there whatsoever. The feeling of loneliness lingered here despite the obvious existence of Eliot.

Eliot looked back down to the chess game. He didn't like it but there was nothing he could do. The unsub was keeping his distance for now which didn't mean he was trusthworthy but it meant that Eliot could get up and take a bath in peace at least.

[virtualoo]

Jasper committed no other murders, only focused on documenting Eliot’s habits and goings on throughout the day. Wherever he went and whatever he was able to document, he had documented. Of course he could not step into his office at police headquarters for he was not that daring yet~! Anything else he clearly documented the time and the place, every little action Eliot did was written down in a plain old book. He accumulated enough information in about a week or so time, taking them to his residence. He picked a random address from a random street somewhere, not daring to use his own. He decided to add another touch to his letter, taking out an old academy photo of his, looking at two young men smiling widely. When I still have faith in the law..He circled his picture and tucked it in..

 

Sealed with his wax like always...

 

Jasper sent the letter through the post, waiting for his little letter to be sent. Soon after..He might choose to be more daring. To show him a ghost of his past..The face of the Heart Breaker..If He pieced that together. But it would be shock enough to see a ghost of your past.

[♠[Rin]♠]

A little over a week passed and no complications nor important incidents happened. Eddison and him were being quite successful in the case of the lost woman. Eliot was so drawn into work that the recent events involving the prior unsub had been shoved in the back of his head. Only when he opened his letter box and a notebook with a green wax seal on it slid into his hand, he was hit with the memories of his unsolved case. "What have you been doing the past few days?" Eliot asked the book as if the one responsible for sending it could hear it.

 

He expected the worst, really. Pictures of the murders, maybe data about them, but it wasn't like that at all. When Eliot sat down at the kitchen table to open the notebook, he was confronted with the diary of a stalker. Detail labelling of his actions of the past week together with the date and the time had been written down. It came with a photo that he recognized instantly. It felt like a cold piece of glass was stabbing right through his chest. The photo showed Jasper and him in the halls of the police academy. The colours were brown and yellow and the contrasts had become faint but he would recognize Jasper's face anytime. Though Jasper's appearance had slowly faded from his memory over all the years of mourning him and trying to forget the sorrow and the hurt, Eliot wasn't able to truly erase his dead best friend. He could feel his fingers and tows going cold just because of the emotions that suddenly and without a warning shot through him like a dam breaking and letting the water out. A goose bump covered his arms and breathing became a little hard for a moment, making his inhales falter. Eliot leaned back in the wooden chair. Old, once forgotten anger, sadness and loneliness were pressing against his chest like an invisible hand pushing forcefully against his ribs.

 

Eliot put the photo down and drove a hand through his hair. "It's okay," he said to himself, taking a deep breath in and out. "Look at it objectively." He straightened his back and moved the photo to the side next to the notebook. Jasper was circled in the picture, thus the killer was definitely referring to him. As far as Eliot knew Jasper hadn't had close friends who could have known anything about his private life except Eliot himself which was making it difficult to piece the last bits together. Why Jasper of all people? Why a dead student?

 

The word "dead" was an obvious keybword in this case. Could the boys the unsub had murdered be substitutes for Jasper? Was someone taking revenge for him? It just wasn't possible. Jasper's parents had been deeply hurt and even left London after a few months because they couldn't take it to lose their son. There was literally nobody left who could remember the case.

Eliot narrowed his eyebrows. He leaned in closer to examine the handwriting. The "g"s looked incredibly like Jasper used to write them. He would accidently draw an eclipse over the text line underneath because he was writing so sweepingly. And now that he had noticed this, the "a"s resembled Jasper's as well. Was this a forgery?

Eliot's glance skipped back to the photo. "Something doesn't bloody add up here," he mumbled. He stood up and walked to his dresser in the living room. He took out a red box, slid its lid off and took out the sketch of a butterfly on a flower which Jasper had drawn a year before his death. Eliot returned to the kitchen table where he put the sketch right next to the book in order to compare the handwriting witht he signature below the butterfly. It was a perfect match.

 

Was Jasper still alive? Could he have written this? Eliot didn't like this but there was a faint chance that the police had made a mistake. Back then Eliot had been 18 himself and still a student therefore he hadn't been entrusted with the case file. There was only one way to confirm that Jasper was dead - getting the case file and looking through it himself.

[virtualoo]

It looks like my dearest has received my accounts of that one week..Jasper looked up toward the apartment and could see his letter being delivered even from here. That dark green seal he could see even in the dark among the other mail being sent to his address. Now the games can truly begin...Tomorrow would start the round of the greatest game he has ever played. Are you ready to have some fun Eliot? Let's play...~!

 

Jasper went back toward his home, knowing he had a lot to take care of for the next morning. The elusive cat will chase down the tender little mouse. The cat long thought dead, left as a stray on the streets will take hold of his sweet mouse...Will you be surprised to see the cat? He entered his home, soon closing the door to his apartment. You want to see your old friend..? The cat is coming...Jasper thought as he pulled out his sketchbook, running his finger over its cover. "You shall be used as part of the hunt.." Jasper said, taking up his book and preparing for the next day.

----

Jasper walked down the city streets, keeping an eye out for the familiar brown locks to come down the street toward the police headquarters. He kept to the shadows until he saw an all too familiar sight. There you are love....Jasper thought as he slunk his way through the crowd and toward the familiar brown hair, coming up from behind him. He leaned down into the others ear, whispering "Time is like a flower – Beautiful but always ends for all....Isn't that true...Eliot?" with a big smirk on his face. He held out his sketchbook before turning the opposite direction, fleeing into the crowd amassing on the streets. Let the games begin...old friend.

[♠[Rin]♠]

Eliot yawned into his palm several times during his way to the headquarters. After climbing out of the cab he squeezed through the fatigued, grey crowd. A thick blanket of clouds was covering the morning sky and a soft breeze was springing up. It was the perfect London weather, so to speak. However, his day wasn't supposed to start normally. Suddenly, someone behind him inched closer to his back, closer than he would like that person to. He put it off as someone in hurry and was about to step to the side to make space for them to pass him by, but instead a familiar voice whispered into his ear. Eliot's eyes spread wide as he recognized the husky sound. Instantly, he turned around and all he saw was a blurry figure dressed in a long coat and with blonde hair vanishing in between the people.

 

"Stop!" Eliot called, an arm stretched out to reach nothing in particular. He pushed a woman out of the way who casually called him a stupid idiot though he didn't react to it at all. Hurriedly but in no way easily he dug his way out of the moving crowd. "Stop! Police!" Eliot played the detective-card, even though he knew very well that it wouldn't work. "I command you to stop!" He didn't even know whom he was yelling at, yet he went on. "Stop and turn around!"

 

The figure he was running after was hard to see. Eliot finally found his way out of the grape of people and sprinted into an alleyway. He followed the person deeper into the alley system. Seemingly he was a lot faster than Eliot because he couldn't get a good look at the man at all.

 

Eliot rounded a corner and halted forefully. He re-adjusted his balance, puzzlement lingering on his face. He was standing in front of a dead end. Where did he go? Had he just had a hallucination? Should he be seeing a doctor? That voice had sounded exactly like Jasper's and the blonde hair fit his appearance. The man he had been following had looked taller, but that was a minor difference Eliot was willing to ignore. Had Jasper faked his death? Had someone else faked Jasper's death? Was Jasper involved? Was he the victim or the criminal?

 

"This is frustrating..." Eliot drove his fingers through his brunette hair and sighed deeply. He was either going crazy or someone was playing a gruesome mindgame with him. It was only a question of time until the person responsible for all this was going to show themselves. Obviously, it was a game, but Eliot didn't know what spot he was at and what role he was playing.

[virtualoo]

Jasper could hear behind him Eliot screaming at him to sop, probably weaving through the crowds trying to catch up to him. He found it funny that Eliot thought that the orders could stop him or work at all. Once Jasper had broken free of the crowd, he started to run and knowing Eliot was close behind him. Time for a chase my dear Eliot..He thought as the chase between him and his love had begun.

 

Jasper led the detective through the towns back alleyway system, taking many twists and turns to make the chase more interesting. And right at this moment was not the perfect time for his reveal..He thought as he turned into what he knew would be a dead end alley. He quickly duck into an old box, staying silent and still so the other could not hear him.

 

Once Eliot had voiced his frustration and eventually left was when Jasper stepped out of his hiding place. If you want to seek me out, perhaps a reward is in order? I will give you what you want, seeing a ghost from your past, if but for a moment. He held his sketchbook tight to his chest as he made his way toward his determined destination, knowing where he wanted to go to give the other his gift.

 

Jasper eventually made his way to the others home, testing the door to see if it was open. You really need to lock your door love..He chuckled to himself, opening the door and shutting it behind him. He would wait here for Eliot to return and show him his......old friend.

 

Sometime had past as he eventually heard the door open, staying next to the others doorway so he would not see him when he first opened the door. "It has been awhile Eliot.." Jasper said with a smirk, looking up into the others eyes as he closed the others door with his foot. "Chocolate covered Bisquits..Not as good as our mothers but they do.." He smirked, popping one out of the box on the table, taking a bite of the bisquit.

 

He looked down at the table and saw an old picture of a butterfly he had drawn long ago, setting his sketchbook beside it. He ran his fingers along the butterfly and chuckled to himself. "I still cannot believe that you kept that thing.." He shook his head to himself. When he had put that more effort into his drawings, when he had put in his most work around Eliot. He drew that one specifically for him as well..

[♠[Rin]♠]

When Eliot came home, exhaustion and fatigue were tearing on him. He was tired yet he was still frustrated. He didn't know what to do, what to do next. He had done some research after the chase in the morning. He had looked through the file of Jasper's death and read the autopsy article. Apparently, the corpse had been 1,75m tall, and althought it had been burnt, such a big difference between Jasper's height and a skeleton height shouldn't be possible. Jasper had been 1,82m if Eliot remembered correctly. Flesh and hair would usually add two to three centimeters. The realisation that Jasper might not have died that day hit him like a cold fist in the face and a sharp stab in the chest. Had his former best friend been wandering about in the past few years, all alone? All by himsefl? Had he attended his own funeral? He knew that Jasper hadn't been... wasn't stupid. He was actually overly intelligent. Looking at it this way, it was easy to fake a death. But why?

 

Eliot moved to unlock it, but he noticed that he hadn't in the first place when he had left this morning. "God damn it," he cursed under his breath. If, of all people, a serial killer were to be after him, this would be an easy game.

The brunette opened his door and stepped into his apartment tiredly. Only when his hand slid off the knob and the door fell close on its own, he knew that his presentiment had become real.

 

A voice he would recognize everywhere and whenever, and also the same voice from this morning, spoke to him until Jasper stepped out of the shadows. He was a grown-up now. He had become taller than Eliot, who tilted his head up to look in into the other's eyes in shock and irritation. Jasper's hair had grown a little and he looked well-built compared to the slim, nerdy figure Eliot had remembered. Also, his style of clothing was way more excessive and attention-grabbing. At first glance, people might doubt it was Jasper, but the husky voice and the colour of his eyes were the same. Although it appeared that he had not only changed on the outside - there was a daring shimmer in his hazel eyes which Eliot hadn't seen before. He remembered Jasper being of shy and kind nature. This man in front of him was different, yet it was the same person.

 

"You.." Eliot was speechless, frustrated, angry and sorrowful at the same time. His mixed emotions finally made their way to his usually so blank face. His eyebrows narrowed and a mixture of disbelief and betrayal flashed in his chocolate brown eyes. There was no way this was a ghost from his past. This wasn't a hallucination right?

It was a rhetorical question because he knew the answer. It wasn't an image of his mind. And although he was an edcuated man and detective, there were no words in terminology that fit to say right now.

 

Eliot brought a hand up to his forehead and closed his eyes for a moment. Focus. F o c u s.

 

"Did you murder those boys, Jasper?" Now that he had voice the other's name the situation became more real. He opened his eyes to look once again at the blonde. There were so many questions floating around in his head and yet he felt like there was little time. It didn't seem like Jasper would stay. Unless he had something up his sleeve. Did he think that Eliot wouldn't draw his gun if needed?

 

There was a painfully throbbing stab in his chest, more fierce than the one in the morning when reading Jasper's file. It made it hard to think straight. He didn't know what he wanted to do. Seeing Jasper made him happy, but knowing that he was a murderer made him not move an inch towards the man he had longed to see again for so long and mourned for years.

[virtualoo]

Jasper watched the others face as it started to realize who they were spotting. Eliots face seemed to twist with so many pretty emotions, ones that he had not seen grace the normally stoic face. Those beautiful chocolate brown eyes he hadn't seen up close in so long were finally in front of him. He seemed to be contemplating a question in his head, putting his hand to his forehead like he did when he was frustrated.

 

"He....hehe...hehehehe!" Jasper started to laugh when Eliot asked the question he knew the other would ask of him. "Oh come on Eliot dear, you are..breaking my heart" Jasper said with a wide grin on his face, pulling out the knife he used on every one of the killings he had done under the heart breaker. "It is rather easy you know..? Even when they struggle to keep them still long enough, one thrust, maybe two and they are down for the count...They say injuries to the heart are quite fatal" He smirked, taking a few steps closer to him.

 

"A happier time.." Jasper said as he looked down at the butterfly he was looking at but a moment ago. "A time where the world was a more innocent place..Filled with a sense of justice and standing by the law. "The law is scum..all cops are. They could not be bothered to find me through months of physical and emotional torture..Did no one find it odd?" Jasper said as he twirled the knife between his fingers. "No one thought to think that burn 'me' and victim 'me' were too different? Despite being charred to being unidentifiable, the watch remained perfectly intact?!" Jasper stabbed the butterfly with his knife before pulling it out.

 

"Do not worry love..I would never cause you any physical harm" Jasper smiled, tilting up the others chin with the handle of the knife. Jasper leaned, pushing up the others chin and taking him into a kiss. "I have been wanting to do that for years.." Jasper said with a wide smirk, smirking down at him.

[♠[Rin]♠]

A disturbed look spread on Eliot's face upon hearing Jasper laugh. He admitted his sins without a second thought and also there was no sign of regret in his words. He confirmed Eliot's conclusion and revealed that the corpse was much different than him, but the watch had sufficed to give up on searching for him. It was true. The police always went on to the next case if one was finished without taking a look back. "You can't blame everything on the officers in charge back then," Eliot said matter-of-factly. "We aren't advanced in technology at the Police Department. They were glad to simply have found you after a long time. And you know the statistics. The chance of finding a missing teenager alive decreases by the day and from day three on they were already expecting to be searching a corpse." He understood that the law wasn't flawless, but was it necessary to take other people's lives?

 

"I understand that they have wronged you, Jasper, but what you are doing isn't the key to soothe your anger." Eliot wasn't educated in psychology, nobody of the police was. Psychology was founded 1879, a few years too late for Eliot and Jasper to take part in it. Even now it was highly underrated and laughed at.

 

Eliot internally flinched when Jasper stabbed the beautiful butterfly drawing he had made for him years ago. Up to this moment it had been the only personal memory he had had of his childhood best friend. Jasper raised his knife and tilted Eliot's head up by the chin with the handle. Eliot's hand sneaked silently to his gun fastened on his belt. Pressure was increasing in his chest and he felt his heart pounding as he stared into the other's hazel eyes. It should have dawned on him when he was called 'love,' but it did actually take Jasper to lean down and connect their lips for him to understand. He was too shocked to react properly in the first few seconds. Afterwards, he felt the urge to back off, but he knew that such was a move of defeat which he wasn't going to take. Thus he regained his composure and knit his eyebrows in a serious manner. "What happened to you? What did they do to you when you were young?" He had to know. It had changed his best friend into the complete opposite of the memory he had of him. Eliot reached up and pushed the knife's handle out of the way. "Tell me." The kiss still caused confusion within him, but that was something he had to address later.

[virtualoo]

"Can't blame everything...? Listen to him, saying that I can't blame everything on the officers in charge back then!" Jasper talked to himself, laughing at the words coming out of Eliot's mouth. "Two months of hell and they could have looked at evidence much harder..Everything about that damned charred to a crisp bastard was different..! His height, the fucking watch..They didn't even try. The first evidence of any dead body resembling me and they just give up. I suppose that was my idea but I was expecting far more from the men who pride themselves in their work.." He sat down, leaning back in a chair and sighing in frustration, stabbing the butterfly again.

 

"Not the key? Nothing is going to quench the fire of anger in my body!" Jasper smirked, looking to Eliot. Always so methodical and thinking there was such a simple solution to everything. It was those moments that he found so charming about his dear Eliot. "But I must say you have grown..I am taller than you.." He chuckled from his seat, standing up from the chair.

 

"What didn't they do to me...?" Jasper laughed again as his knife was being pushed away. He might as well tell Eliot, let him witness the torture he went through. Let him witness all the pain and devastation, how it tortured him inside. How would his precious Eliot look at him then? Jasper kept his grip on his knife while he took off his coat and unbuttoned his long sleeve shirt. He set them down on the table to show off a myriad of scars of various sizes riddled on his body. "Where to even start?" Jasper pondered, looking at all the scars nonchalantly. "This one from when I was screaming out your name and calling for help. This one is just because they got bored.." Jasper listed off various more scars and their methods of torturing him. "The one on my chest was from when the bastards who did this to me tried fighting back when I tried to roast him alive.." He pointed to a faded but still messed up dip in his chest. "The line across my neck is so I would shut up and stop crying for help and 'your precious Eli-twat'" He laughed, pointing at all his wounds without a care in the world.

[♠[Rin]♠]

Elliot's gaze ghosted over the scarred body of his presumed dead best friend, the eyebrows above knitted in either worry or disturbance. Of course, he had seen worse, but to think that someone he knew had gone through diverse torture methods was making his heart beart painfully violent against his chest in horror. In fact, now that he had Jasper standing in front of him, knowing that his friend was dead had brought more comfort than seeing this. He was very much alive and he had endured months of abuse and mistreatment. It had obviously formed him and shaped his mind, seeing as he didn't care about what had happened in detail, it was just the anger and hatred that were still burning inside him.

 

The brunette was finally able to take his eyes off the taller male's chest torso and look him straight into the eyes, his composure re-gained. Jasper had called his name, crying, in pain, and knowing this made it more painful than his assumed death had already been. "So, what's the plan?" Elliot suddenly said. Despite Jasper holding a knife, he stood there as solid as a rock. "Do you think you won't be accused of the murders because we're friends? Or that I am going to let you leave just like that?" He shifted his weight from one leg to the other without breaking the eye-contact. "You didn't come here just to stab a painting and get me cookies. What role am I playing in your game?" Jasper's kiss had left a warm feeling on Elliot's lips, yet he lacked the ability to act cool about it. It was a surprise and a shock at the same time and he had been prepared for everything but that. If Jasper was in love with him, there might be two scenarios that could happen; either Jasper demanded to tighten their relationship or he might get violent if the subject of his desire declined. Elliot wasn't ready for either, to be honest.

[virtualoo]

"Plan...?" Jasper tilted his head with a small smirk. "You were always the one with the plans, so cool and collected" He said with a small chuckle. "And dear dear Eliot, do you think that I would let you just catch me? Just like that? The fun has just begun~!" Jasper smiled as he took a few steps closer. "Years of being off the grid...getting you to notice me...it has finally paid off. And do you think I would leave any traces of where I was staying or how I make money?" he smirked as he kept walking forward until he had Eliot against the wall.

 

 

"Now...for a more proper kiss...Last one was far too quick” Jasper said with a smirk as he tilted his chin up with his hand. “I had waited far too long and thought about this far too long to wait any longer” He grinned, taking Eliot’s lips into a deep passionate kiss. Warm..soft and warm just like he imagined them! He snaked his arms around the others waist, pulling Eliot close to him. He snaked a finger underneath the fabric of the others shirt to feel his skin. Just as soft..

[virtualoo]

-----------(posted twice?)

[♠[Rin]♠]

Jasper stepped forward and Eliot found himself walking back until the wall of his corridor hit his back. The blonde intruded his comfort zone and it felt like he was staring right through Eliot. "Who knows?" he said. "Maybe you want me to finally stop you." It was a lame excuse, but he was indeed running out of methods and theories to throw at Jasper's head.

 

Jasper even announced the kiss, but Eliot still didn't know how to react. He learned that his best friend had been waiting for this, had been planning to get his attention for a long time, and it was something Eliot couldn't comprehend on the spot. Though there was no time to react anyway, because Jasper cupped his chin, lifted his head and leaned down to connect their lips again, this time in a passionate kiss. Eliot found himself paralyzed in the first moment and grumbled distastisfied into the kiss as Jasper warpped an arm around his waist to pull him closer. He could feel the warmth in between them and he couldn't decide if this was better or worse than being hated by Jasper. Indeed, all he had ever wanted was to get his friend back, somehow talk to him for a last time, and now a man similar to him, actually he himself, with different personality traits, was kissing him. Now, Eliot was only as religious as a guy whose best friend had been presumed dead could be and he understood that there were people who developed feelings for the same sex, but he didn't think that he would ever be involved in it. For some reason, he didn't find it disgusting yet indeed threatening. Having Jasper this close to him somehow felt more dangerous than a gun to his head would.

 

"Jasper-" Eliot spoke the other's name in a gasp during the kiss as he felt the other's fingers sneaking under his shirt. He placed one hand on the other's shoulder and slipped the other in between their chest to push the blonde back and disconnect their lips. Although Jasper still had his arm around his waist, there wasn't much more to do. Eliot looked up at him with a glare. "You can't just do what you want. And you can't just take what you want." He spoke sternly, having re-gained his composure. "We're going to the police, if you like it or not. And I want you to stop this madness, noone else has to die, you hear me?" It wasn't a suggestion, in fact, it sounded like a command. "You went out and took the life of kids who had just grown up to be men. If you really want to hurt someone because you are angry," Eliot now dared to lean in a little again; his stare into Jasper's eyes was strong and wrathful, "why don't you try somebody who's your size?"

[virtualoo]

Jasper chuckled when Eliot talked to him about not being able to take what they want. "You tell that to the people who kidnapped me and tortured, doing whatever they liked to me. Tell that to the people who took my life away from me and my formerly held belief in the justice system. You only found me now because I let you find me.." Jasper said with a small smirk, knowing he could have kept on going if he so chose. But he wanted to make himself known to Eliot, why? It was not so black and white but he knew Eliot knowing of his presence would make things interesting.

 

"I am not going anywhere Eliot, I think you know that as well as I do" Jasper said as he looked right into the others glaring eyes. "So serious and hard working, really developed into quite the detective" He smirked as he got behind him, holding him tightly to him. "You may know I am alive now and I am 'Heartbreaker', but you have no proof of your claims beyond your word. And I am going to make sure I get my fill of my dear Eliot before I retreat into the night" He smirked, reaching a hand down Eliot's pants and stroking him.