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 Post subject: The Mafia Strikes
PostPosted: Mon Sep 29, 2008 9:45 pm 
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Joined: Thu Jan 11, 2007 8:00 pm
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Location: Taking a vacation in the state of confusion.
AKA The Poik shouldn't ever write stories story. I was bored, and now I'll torture you all with it:


It was a dark and stormy night, after a bright and lovely day. It was the best of times for some, and still others were dying in the street. A lone man walked down the alley of despair, just beside the townhouse of love. His eyes were glimmering as bright as the blood dripping from his blade in the moonlight. He felt a strange need to dress up for the occasion in his best trench coat and hat. It didn't matter considering the only witness was the victim, but it seemed to add a sense of occasion to the first kill.
He was basking in it, the fruit of his labors; everything had gone according to plan. He was in control, once it was started there was no end except obliteration. He was ready.
---
It's ten o'clock, Anthony lies in bed. He just saved the city again from a bomb. He's now receiving his medal, and as he rolls over to accept it, the sun shines on his eyelids. The bomb on his bedside table now reading 10:02.
"Crap!" He jerks up right, throwing the book he was reading to the ground. Late for class, he jumped out of bed and got dressed. The sun glared at the blinds of his window, angry with the shadows, boring the holes in it with light. Bright dots in three lines ran down the tan carpet to his feet. Dressed, Tony ran out, slid down the banister and hopped out the door. No seemed to notice, he decided to go along with it.
"Good morning!"
"Don't tell me what kind of day it is."
Taken aback Anthony stopped walking and turned towards the now retreating figure of Atma, who seemed dwarfed by the apartments on the left and the road-side trees.
"Good morning!" Poik echoed the politeness, motioning in a half salute, half wave.
"Oh- yes G'morning."
Poik continued walking, following diligently behind Atma. Two more followed, Shauni and Shadowman this time.
"Where is everyone going?" asked Tony of the approaching neighbors.
"There was a impromptu town meeting called- not sure why, probably nothing again." Shauni smiled and continued, "You didn't hear?"
"No I slept in today, haven't checked anything this morning." Tony paused, last time the meeting was about an abandoned house falling apart. Then again, they usually get mad if someone doesn't attend without reason. "I got nothing better to do, now that the whole town's there. Might as well."
---
"I'm sure you all know why you've been called today, but for those who haven't heard, there was a murder last night."
Judging by the noise that followed, no one had heard. Josiah hit the table with his gavel thrice.
"Alright then, last night around eleven Pokchu was killed. He was found in a back alley with cauterized wounds in his throat and both lungs which had been inflicted there in the alley way judging by the lack of blood elsewhere. The only piece of evidence otherwise found was a note, written in 12 font Ransom on a ripped piece of paper that said, 'Continued the first will be/ And then you all will die.' It's evident that we have a sociopath on our hands. According to recordings and security cameras, no one has left this town or entered either legally or by climbing the wall that separates us from Serebii.net. We believe that the killer is somewhere within this room."
"Why would you bring us all into a room with a psychopath! Doesn't that endanger us!" The sentiment was acknowledged by the crowd.
"Sit down. Calm down, I assure you, Tony, we all are safe. If anything was tried here, we have more than enough people to stop whoever it is. Plus, the murderers methods suggest secrecy and desire to kill slowly, something he could not get away with in this room."
An uneasy silence fell upon the room. They were all friends here. Nervous glances were exchanged throughout the room, everyone seemed to be waiting for someone with a knife to jump at them at any second. Disappointed yet dilligent, they continued the sentry until a thought was chimed up.
"This isn't getting us anywhere. We may not be able to guess at this point who the mafia is, but the least we can do is start by having everyone tell us what they did last night. Even if it gets us no where, it's a start." Tony looked around for support. "All right then, I'll start. Last night after supper, there were re-runs of the old Pokémon shows were on, I watched that for a while then sat down to read in my room. Before I know it, I'm asleep."
"This is ridiculous," chimed in a nervous Jason, "what will this prove!"
"It will prove who here has a valid excuse."
"Anyone can come up with an excuse," Ryan challenged.
"Well, what do you plan to do?"
Again silence struck the room; pale skulls returned to their stare.
Slowly, Marley stood and related his night. From his Easy Mac dinner to beating a level in Thousand-Year door, his story seemed to check out.
They when around the room, one by one the others followed suit.
---
"Okay, does anyone have a suspicion now that everyone has given an alibi?"
Still more deathly stares, though soon in the group, silent as the dead, there was one hesitant hand raised. A shaking palm, clutched by three fingers and a thumb as if it may be shunned off his body for the action, supported a wavering index finger towards Ryan.
Jason, perplexed by the hand's insubordinance, stared for a second at Ryan, as if to look for what it was pointing at. He didn't want to have everyone looking at him at this second, he was okay cowering in the corner as the world went by. He stuttered, "He d-did say that anyone could come up with an excuse."
"That doesn't mean I made one up, that just means that I didn't think we could solve anything doing this, and look at us, we pointing fingers at whims now."
"That was," Poik interjected, "just to get reactions so we could judge whether we think they're acting strangely. And I'd have to say that you're acting pretty defensive right now. Then again, Jason was first to accuse, maybe he's acting scared so we'll think he's a victim."
"At least I-I'm trying to find out who it is! Would you r-rather we all r-remain silent and let the m-mafia r-run all over us!"
"And blindly accusing is the way to go there."
"Calm down, Ryan, Jason. We can solve this without losing our heads."
"I'm not losing my head, Poik, and I didn't kill Pokchu, what motive would I have? Pokchu's been in a coma for years now, I didn't even meet him when he was awake."
"N-no emotional attachment. N-no reason n-not to kill him. Just wanted-"
"No! Why would I kill just to kill?"
"Who would m-miss Pokchu anyway?"
"It sounds like you've thought this one through. How long have you been planning this?"
"W-what?"
"Stop." Josiah chastised them with one word and they sat as if trained.
Bones creaked as they shifted nervously in the chairs. Every eye in the room was pointed at Josiah now, except the few who had seconds before been staring madness in the eye.
"We are all adults here, there is no need to degrade ourselves with bickering. We have already heard one arguement and counter-argument. Is there anyone else who would like to take initiative?"
Poik stood and stared his feet directly in the eyes, then turned his head towards Josiah. "Well. We learned more from random accusations than anything so far. Before anyone interupts, let me finish." Then, turning his head into the audience, he began,"Who would kill the old cripple? Who here had a quelm with the vegetable? Anyone who was there when he was diagnosed with anger problems I hear. But being plain ticked off doesn't seem to be that likely a motive. So then, who here was blighted by him, who was paying to keep him alive, and what other motive, if not personal, would drive someone to take the local loon and disconnect him from his life-preservers, and drag him out, probably already dead, to inflict wounds on him and leave him in an alley. Who would do this? Is it Ryan?" From the seats, Ryan rose and a murmur. He began to object but Poik cut him off. "Is it? He has no connection to Pokchu. Although, all of us lost money from the economy pouring it into the equipment keeping him alive. Now that isn't a real motive out of anyone short of a homocidal economist. How about Jason? He was a bit twitchy, eh? But isn't he always a little nervous? Ah but it sounds like he thought out the aspects of the murder. Well, maybe he's onto something, you have to think like the murderer to be able to catch him. Thinking as a murderer would, the best way to avoid blame is to win trust, what better way to win trust than leading the initial attempt. Tony, where were you on the night of last night? -Don't answer that- Or maybe even being in support of a plan, such as Marley, second to answer. That way people aren't really paying attention to you, and you can remain in the background. The same goes to those who only speak when spoken. Stevenson, Silver, Shauni, Opal, Shadowman, where are your heads now? Are you still in shock? Can't blame you, I'm a little past that, in disbelief. Maybe we should take a lunch break to let this soak in. And before you all start forming opinions, it could be anyone here: you, me, even Josiah, though he would be my last suspect thusfar."
"Well spoken."
"W-where do you get off accusing us all! How do you kn-know that you're thinking clearer than the r-rest of us!"
"Which of us is yelling," Poik replied. "Accusing us all? Weren't we all accused when the murder was found to be one of us in this room. Yes, I accused even myself."
"A break sounds good," chimed in Tony.
The room was on edge. Everyone was sinking back into the dark place. Fear is a powerful thing. It changes a person, sometimes until they don't recognize themselves. A week ago, if you had told Ryan or Jason that they would turn on each other, they wouldn't believe it. Nor would the people of Pebblesville have thought that murder could have happened in their isolated town. Naturally, as many in their predicament, they wished that this never happened, but there is no way to turn back time.

Silent as the dead, they shuffled quickly with muffled steps so not to wake them. The sun bore down on their heads, trying to set them on fire. The world looked the same, always, unchanging but for the seasons and the hours. Maybe it was painted there, for all you would know, and that's why no one would change it. No one wants to ruin a work of art. Tony started towards his normal food vendor, forgetting the staff were probably too rattled to cook. Everyone was at that meeting. The owner walked in anyway, she lived in the apartment above.
She spoke to Tony, face painted on to look as if nothing happened, "We're closed today Tony. I hope you can understand."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm not very hungry anyway, Kaida."
"Neither am I, I was going up to lie down for a bit."
"All right, I'll get out of your hair. We have to be back at noon right?"
"Yeah." Kaida was at the stairs, "Take care." A seasoned response, she had to greet and dismiss all her customers with practiced simulations of honesty. She shut the door, and Tony stood for a while, listening to her footsteps as they disappeared.
Walking away, Tony finally noticed the heat. He felt a little faint, but his apartment was close, so he hurried across the sidewalk. At the front of the building, he closed the door behind him, and leaned against it for a couple seconds. It wasn't supposed to be so warm out. Through a half closed door a TV was visable, it was on the local weather channel. Tony got up and started towards his room, seeing something that caught his eye, he turned back to the TV but it had changed by then. Continuing up the stairs, he discredited his thought. He could have sworn he saw the TV show that the current temperature was sixty degrees Fahrenheit.
A voice drifted into the stairway as he climbed. Something was said about Pokchu, but Tony wasn't paying too much attention. Nor was he thinking too much about the stairs at that point. Not that he had noticed, but he lost track of where he was for a second, and was pulled into a daydream.
He was on a beach, standing in front of a wave in the clear, blue-green sea. The sun was burning his skin, so he fell into the wave as it came to him.
Next thing he knew, he was caught by the shoulder, and he was jerked into reality. He had fallen; knees and hands on the ground, kept from falling down the stairs by a hand.
"You okay there, Tony?"
"Yeah. Just tripped."
"You seem a little out of it. Which way you going now?"
"Up."
"Still? Okay." Poik helped him off the ground and steadied him up the stairs. They rounded the corner, and went to Tony's apartment.
"Just a little warmer today, I guess I need to drink a little more water."
"Oh? It seems rather nice today. It has been a little warmer though. There's going to be a cold front moving in though, so you'll like it better tomorrow I guess."
Uneased by Poik's indifference to the heat, Tony searched for his keys in his pocket. "I'll be alright from here. See you at the meeting."
Poik did his usual wave and lingered to make sure Tony got into his room okay, walking slowly back to the stairs.
When Tony was safely inside his room, he grabbed a glass of tap water and sat down. He took a curious glance towards his window. Sure enough, the thermometer outside his window claimed it was about 59 degrees.
---
"How're you doing?"
"Just fine, thanks," Tony replied to Poik. Tony then took to his seat quickly as Josiah stood to call the meeting back in session.
"Welcome back. I hope you all found your rest time at least sufficient to recollect yourselves."
"Pardon," asked a small voice from the corner. Josiah waved him on. "Out of curiosity, does this city not have any sort of trained team to investigate something like this."
"As a matter of fact," Josiah replied, "we do not. Until now we have never had the need to create any crime controls, for the worst we've had here previously was a streaker, and a couple grafittists. Up until now we've mostly relied on civilian arrests, and our volunteer sheriff, Silver."
"So the best we can do is lockdown the perimeter and search for clues."
"Unfortunately, that is all we can do."
Tony was hoping for a different answer.
"Well, not quite. We have an old jail and the reasoning capabilities of the whole population of Pebblesville. If we narrow down our suspicions to one person, we can keep them locked up and I'll watch over them." Silver rallied a few nods with his comments.
"How do you suppose we actually find out who it is?" Asked Jason, surprised at how steady his voice was. "What's the chance we get it right the first time."
"Well, it's the best we've got, and unless you've got a better idea, I suggest we work together to try and make certain we get it right the first time."



So I figured I'd keep this up and edit it periodically until I get through the next murder which I have written already for whenever I get the time to finish the meeting. I suck at thinking up dialogue, especially when I get all of 15 minutes to work on this only occasionally. If you think this is ending at a weird spot, it is.

_________________
Hmm... This signature just got really short...
Blastitar♂ (Water) Attacks: Bite, Water Gun, Crunch, Rock Slide (Wins 15, Losses 0) Torrent&Shed Skin
Sandiyama♂ (Ground, Fighting) Tackle, Vital Throw, Swift, Arm Thrust (Wins 8, Losses 0) Guts&Sand Veil
Swalectrode (Electric, Poison) Attacks: Yawn, Tackle, Sludge, Screech (Wins 5, Losses 0) Exp:30 Static&Liquid Ooze Status: Lost T.T


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