The Protector of children

Chapter Two: Leave the past alone.

He so wanted to kill whoever leaked to the press about “Cassandra”. Now everyone couldn’t shut up about it and blaming the police for not doing their jobs right. Heh. Like they knew that there was someone going around dumping bodies of children into lakes. On top of everything, not a single person knew anything about the kid.

Not a name.

Not who her parents were.

Not where she lived or went to school.

Nothing.

All they got was that she was about eleven years old, has been brutally raped before she died and that her head was smashed in by a heavy object. Nothing about the killer. Not even a single sperm sample. The lake water had cleaned the body off of any trances.

Damn.

No.

Fuck.

Right now, Detective Travers Cheza of the Special Victims Unit was asking all the shops that little children liked to go to and maybe get a clue on who “Cassandra” was. He was about to open the door to this shop where they sold both coffee and ice cream when a car screeched and a horn beeped.

With his hand still on the door, the dark-haired detective turned around to see a man with his coat still unzipped and hanging off of his shoulders like he rushed into putting it on, shouting at the car that nearly collided into him that was shouting back at him.

He shrugged his broad shoulders and hanged his head. He might as a well since it was part of being a Police Officer. Protector of the Peace and the one that broke up fights. He quickly jogged down there with a badge waving in the air, knowing full well that it only worked on TV.

“Okay, what’s going on here?” Travers got between the car and the man who looked like he was late for slumber party. The man was still in his green and blue sparkled boxers and a long sleeved green shirt. He was wearing a pair of sneakers that weren’t tied and his dark blond hair was still in bed head mode.

What’s going on here.
“This prick almost hit me when I was crossing the street to get to my shop.” The man’s dark green eyes then open wide like he had forgotten something important while almost becoming a car’s new bumper.

“Oh. Shit! Bain!” He then took off onto the sidewalk like a roadrunner and into a book shop called “The Dog Pound”. What a weird name for a book store?

His cop instincts told him that he must follow Boxers and he has yet to not listen to his instincts. So a quick nod and a “Carry on.” He walked quickly to and inside the little book shop.

***

The sight was unbelievable at best. Right in front of Detective Cheza was something out of a movie or at least a TV show.

A brunette girl that still dresses like she was back in high school was telling Boxers about what had happen in between sobs while they both took the comatose body of a kid that had one too many piercings in his face to slumped in a small cushion wicker chair. Then Boxers leaned in with his legs on either side of the kid’s open thighs, but not touching though.

With his cold hands cupping the deathly paled cheeks, the dark blonde man started to talk to the boy.

“Bain? Baby? Come on, sweetheart. Look at me. Look at Alan. Remember Alan? The handsome fucker that you know you want to bone?” One of his hands went up to brush off snow blonde bangs from the paled forehead.

The dark haired officer made a moved towards the couple, thinking he meant be able to bring the kid back to life but very low growl had stopped him. He looked down to see a really over weight black spots on white bulldog trotted around him to sit between him and the two men. His little doggy sweater was just too tight on him and it was luck that kept the thing from bursting at the seams.

Now, Travers didn’t not like dogs but dogs just like him. As been since he was a little itty bitty boy. And he wasn’t about to allow a beast of this size unleash his fury on him. He looked like he could take him on and win.

“He’s coming. He’s going to punish me cause I was the one that broke the vase. Not Fionna. God!” The kid cried as he brought his hands up to protect him from whoever ’He’ was.

“No. No no no no. Shh, baby. Shh. He’s not going to punish you cause I won’t let him. Now, baby breath and come back to me. Yes, that’s a good boy. Keep breathing. He’s not here anymore.” Then as Bain’s breathing was under control, Alan moved back. His body ready for anything.

The girl that stood off away to allow the dark blonde man to calm down the lighter blonde boy had made a move to come closer to the boy but was stop by a sharp. “No!”

“Don’t come closer. He’s may be still in that dark little world of his. Just let him come back on his own.” He said, his dark green eyes still focused on the body before him.

Soon, the blue-white eyes closed and then re-open. No longer dimmed and blank. A hand reached up to comb through uneven blonde hair with blue and purple mixed in with at first a puzzled look on his face when his hand stopped.

“Do you know what your name is?” Alan questioned the kid who just nodded.

“La-Bain.” He caught himself on the ’La’, the forgotton officer quirked a dark eyebrow at that.

“Good. And how old are you?”

It took Bain awhile to answer back this time. “Twenty-three?”

The dark blonde smiled and nodded. “Good, now get off your lazy ass! You’re scaring the customers.” In his good nature way, Alan grabbed a hold of wrist and pulled the other man up to his feet.

“Man, I am going home before my dick falls off in this cold.” He zipped up his coat and tried to pull it over his red cold hairy knees before walking out of the shop and hailed a cab.

Now, over his shock, Bain dusted off the lint and dirt from his pants and walked back over to his post behind the counter and the little brunette girl, smiling and cherry over something, bounced off to shelving some books that came in today. Traver started to move in any direction but a throaty growl that came from his watchdog forced him to stop in mid-air.

“Slone. Bed.” The dog snorted his dislike at the officer before waddling off and disappearing behind the counter.

“May I help you, sir?” Storm-grey eyes were snapped off the sloshing of blubber and on the speaker who just had his head lower while writing something in a notebook and enough necklaces around his neck to supply the local Hot Topic.

Might as well ask this guy. Maybe the dead girl came into here a few times with her mom or dad.

“Yes, I’m Detective Cheza.” He flashed his badge for someone that wasn’t even looking. “I’m going around asking if they had seen this little girl before.” He slapped a piece of paper with the picture of the dead girl laying on a examining table on the counter, on top of the book shop’s owner’s hands.

The hands stopped in what they were doing and allowed ring covered fingers with chipped dark blue nail polished nails to curl along the sides of the paper.

“She’s a favorite but she must had done something very bad. Very bad” He muttered, never meaning for someone else to hear him. But Detective Cheza did.

“Whose favorite, Bain?” The dark haired detective whispered, coaxing the younger man to say more.

“He must have liked her because of her hair. Golden curls like Goldilocks. “ He ignored the question but kept talking, like he was caught in a spell. “He always favor the blondes and those with red hair. But Fredrick and Alison, they were dark like chocolate and He still took them into his bedroom.”

Then Bain fell out of his trance and pushed the paper away. “Never saw her in my life.” He went back to work. Completely ignoring the officer in front of him.

“You know something, Don’t you Bain?” His eyes scanned the man before him, seeing the hands nervously trembling as they move. “You know what happen to this girl, do ya? It was done to you too.”

“Look, Detective Chaze.”

“Cheza.” He corrected him.

“Whatever. I have spent the last ten years trying to overcome and forget what has happen to me when I was a kid. Even when they found that little boy a few years back, I kept my mouth shut and went on by like nothing happen. So If you will excuse me, I have work to do.” The blonde man closed his notebook and made to leave his post but Travers shot a hand out to grabbed a hold of the man’s arm. Bain jumped and winced at the sudden action, the officer made a mental note of it.

“You know something about these murders and you didn’t say anything? It’s your duty-”

He stopped talking when a fiery glare of darken moonstone eyes was focused on him.

“I said it all when I was thirteen years old, covered in bandages and hopped up on drugs. I’m not going to saying it all again and have to be force to relive all over again. That’s my right as a human being!” With that he pride the large hand off and disappeared in the back room.

Travers went as far as behind the counter before he was facing a growling bulldog that was bearing his sharp teeth at him.

“I get it. Look, I’m walking back.” He held up his hands, palms out to show that he didn’t mean any harm as he walked backyards back in front of the counter.

“Sloney! No biting the nice detective!” The female employee scolded the dog from her part of the shop. Still shelving books away.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t like me anyways. I’m too tough and very hard to chew.” The dark haired man told the dog who followed the man to the door. “Hey, I’m going to leave my card right here on the shelf near the door if you want to talk, Bain!” He slowly slipped a thin white card from a coat pocket and slowly, eyes still on the growling beast in front of him, placed on a nearby shelf, right where the smaller man could easily see it.

Slone bark-growled at the big human male that dared to upset his master. He even touched Master without his say-so. No-one does that ever.

“Right. Look, I’m going. I going!” Travers opened the door, afraid to turn his back on the animal and stepped out backwards and shut the door closed once he was outside.

The massive bulldog still was glaring at him through the glass door. Not letting up till the human was totally out of sight.

Some guard dog. Who trained him, Cujo? The detective gave out a long sigh as he walked down with his hands dug deep in his brown winter coat. He had the perfect witness. A ex-victim of whoever had killed and raped “Cassandra”. But like a stubborn ass, he refused to talk.

He called up his partner on his mobile phone and asked him to meet him back at the precinct cause they finally got a lead on the case.

Now only if he could get him to talk, then maybe they could grabbed the fucker before another kid ends up like “Cassandra” and “Alexander”.

****

Oh, shh my little angel. I’m not upset about the plate. Here, let me see your hand. Oh tsk tsk. You cut yourself, Princess. We have to wash the blood off then we can put that little cute hearts band-aid on it. You like those cute little hearts, do you my little princess.

Yes, you do.

Such a good little good girl. Yes you are. You never cause me any trouble.

Such a pretty little girl too. What with you chocolate drop eyes and your hair of chestnut gold. And your little rosebud mouth….

Now, now. Don’t squirm away from me like that. Didn’t you know that when people love each other, they show with a kiss. Like this.

Such soft skin, Little Sarah. I’ll bet it’s even softer right here under your pretty little dress. Ahh, don’t you move away from me!

Oh, look what I done. I hurt my little princess. Shh. Shh don’t cry. Come I’ll take you to my room where I got pretty little dollies for you to play with.

***

All the children watched as Papa took Sister Sarah by the hand and led her up the stairs to his bedroom where all his favorites go and sometimes never come back.

Two of the older children cleaned up the broken plate and ordered everyone else to do their chores before Papa finds out that they have been slacking. They worked like little bees, washing dishes and putting them away. Then they all spread out to do their own separate chores.

They already mourned the death of Sister Cassandra and now they mourned for Sister Sarah in their quiet little ways like they had done whenever a favorite is chosen and then whisked away upstairs. Or when the oldest child disappears after their thirteenth birthday party. Even when a bad child is taken to the punishment room for a whipping.

In their minds, the outside world never existed and here if they do what was they are told, then they may live for another day. And they pray that they never become a favorite or turned thirteen.

Cause life ends at thirteen.

***

Slone the dog says: "Thank-you for the reviews. Also everything medical andor policewise is taken from the all those cop dramas on TV. So don't flame the author for getting those things wrong. Review and she will update. Flame and I bite your ass."