The Protector of children

Chapter Five: Hidden behind every smile is death.

Moonstone eyes looked at the red and white suit and then at the man who held it and then back at the suit. This process was repeated till someone, two guesses who, got fed up and just asked him what was wrong with it.

“Nothing. Just that, I was expecting something more…worse. Good job, you just disprove my theory that caveman can’t buy clothes.” Then he opened his notebook, the poor thing was filled with loosed paper and clips that it had to be held together by a rubber band.

Detective Cheza should have been expecting an insult but he was thinking that the little bastard would act a little like a normal human being since he was helping the blonde out with his little holiday deal with the neighborhood kids. But once again, the brat had surprised him.

“And you’re such a hotshot in that area? You know for a-”

“Hey, Sue. Don’t you have school today?” Bain had cut though the dark-haired man’s words and acted like he wasn’t even there when the door’s bells rang.

Sue Marks, Detective Paul Marks’ 16 year-old daughter had just walked into the shop and came right up where her father and secret crush with a hopeful smile on her mocha face.

She nodded. “Yeah.. But umm, when dad told me about this Santa thing that you do for the kids. I figure that you might need some extra help. So, I just skipped school and came right here.” Sue started to tug on her coat string as nervousness began to rise within her.
“So, here I am!” She whipped out her arms to the side like she’s showing off herself in a stage show.

Alan and Cady, already dressed in their elf costumes weren’t that very impressed with the girl but didn’t show it and thought ’hey, more help the less I have do.’

Marks started to say something to his daughter but Bain had beaten him to the punch.

“Sure. You could take my spot as one of Santa’s elves.” He looked down in his notebook, scanning the words on the white lined paper that only he would know what they mean.
“In fact, you too, Detective Chaze, could work as another elf. That way, I don’t have deadweight laying around for about two hours.” He looked up and just smiled oh so sweetly to the older man.

“It’s Cheza. And give me one good reason why I should help you out.” The dark haired man knew for a fact that the smaller man was saying his name wrong just to be an asshole. He folded his arms against his broad chest and waited for an answer.

“Well, I was going to come down to your station and just bullshit my answers to your questions but…“ He leaned forward over the counter and his blue-white eyes just glistering upwards at the man, entrancing him into their spell. “If you do this for me, then I’ll speak nothing but God’s honest truth.” He batted his mascara thick lashes in a flirtatious way.

Travers, a straight man through and through, would be first to admit that having those moonstone gem eyes looking up at him in that way had him spellbound. Then he remembered whose eyes that they belonged to and just shock unwanted thoughts right out of his skull.

“Fine, but just as soon as this thing is over. “ The stormy eyed man leaned to be face and face with the other man. “I want you in the back seat of my car, on the way to the precinct and when we do get there. You will answer every single one of my questions truthfully and in detail. Am I clear, Withers?”

When that thin flat mouth came close to him, Bain watched its every move carefully and thoughts of tasting it just once flow through his mind but he kept control of himself just enough to replied with “Crystal.”

Bain moved forward for a moment but had second thoughts and moved back way to pull out a set instructions to his new Santa and new Elves.

“Now, your costumes are in the back.” He told Sue and ‘Chaze’ as he pointed behind him with a pen. “Just get dressed quickly and get out here in places with those instructions memorized.” that time, he spoke to all three.

The Marks and Travers nodded in understanding and walked behind the counter and into the back rooms. Since Alan and Cady had this all before and knew what they would be doing, they just continue setting up the reading area and the food table while the bossman wrote something in his notebook.

“Cady’s right. You do like Detective Cheza.” The dark blonde man teased his best friend as he poured soda into Snowflake plastic cups. That little movement that the light blonde had made, the one where he was thinking about kissing the large man, didn’t escape his keen eyes. In fact, he smirked like a demon at this new little fact about the stoic man.

“Do not. So get off of that horse and let it die already. I had said it once and I say it again, that Chaze is nothing more then a He-man wannabe that thinks just because he’s twice my size and has a badge, that he could scare me into doing whatever he wants me to do.” He snagged a Santa cookie and lowered his hand for Slone, dressed in a red and green sweater with jingling antlers on his little blubber head, to reach up and take it back to the safety of his doggy bed under the counter.

“I think he likes you too.” Ignoring everything that the light blonde had just said.

Well, Bain had nothing to say that and just stood there thinking if his friend might have spoken true. He even turned his head to look over his shoulder at the entrance to the back room of the shop, wiggling his left candy cane-striped lip ring in thought. But he quickly canceled any good thoughts on the subject and just said something in retaliation.

“Yeah, if I had breasts just as big as Cady, no dick, and less holes in my face then sure he would like me.” The light blonde sighed. “He’s straight and after today, I’m never going to see him again. Which is a good thing in my book.”

Alan was about to say something more about the subject but a look from those blue-white eyes told him that he had said all that he wanted to say and the subject was closed for good. The dark blonde just sighed and shock his head at his best friend’s thick headiness and paranoia about being hurt because of something that he didn’t have any control over.

Someday, all that pushing people way and closing himself tight against the world was going to bit him in the ass and he was the one that has to live with it when it does.

****

He was never going to have kids of his own. In fact, first thing tomorrow, Travers was going have a little operation to keep that from ever happening. Just in a short span of thirty minutes, he had chased down a dozen kids, cleaned twice that many spills and had answered a hundred questions about why his elf costume was just little too tight and why he was so big for an elf.

Just as soon as Story time with Santa was underway, he sneaked into the back room to escape the insanity for a little while. He had just pulled of his elf hat with pointy ears and actually looked out in front of him to see an rare sight.

Mister Busybody himself was fast asleep on the little brown sofa that was kept in the back for people in the book shop to relax a little from work He was just the perfect size to fit the sofa comfortably and just looked so peaceful laying there.

His full mouth was parted slightly to drew in and out air and opened enough for the world to see a neon green ball in the center of the red tongue. The small red and green hoodie that he wore had ride up to show the hem of what might be elaborate tattoo and the black rose belly ring with a ring of thorns that encircle it. The khakis had be pulled low to show another tattoo, a red paw print on the right hip bone. When the spellbound detective took a step closer, the sleeping man moaned a little in his sleep and turned on his side with his back facing out. With the hoodie riding up a little, he could see the hem of the tattoo on the back. He had now figured out that the little blonde man had done all of this tattoos to cover up all the scars that he had received when he was younger by the hand of his kidnapper and rapists.

To cover up the ugly of his past with arts of beauty.

Tiny ugly pale scars on the lower back were overlooked and it tugged at his heart to see them on this man and know that he was just a little boy when it all happen. A long forefinger lightly traced one scar then another as the dark haired man wished that this wasn’t real, that dozens of other children had and have this being done to them by a real sick fucker. Travers just wanted to kill the psycho with his bare hands, knowing that once that this monster was caught and put behind bars that he would get 25 to life and just sit in prison, might not get the death sentence or might be put into asylum for the rest of his life.


Either sentence was too good for the fucker and his victims won’t get the justice that they dissevered. They all would end up like Bain Withers, afraid and scarred. Afraid that everyone could be their tormentor and scarred not just in body but in mind too.

“Neee. Papa. No, please.” The scrawny body started to trembling under the detective’s finger as a bad memory was being reacted in a nightmare.

As the moans got worse so did the convulsions in the body. Knowing that touching might make it all even worse, Travers just knelt on the rough carpeted floor and pulled the head and upper torso in his arms and began to cooing smoothing words and stroking the uneven blonde hair.

At first, it had seemed to make things worse but very soon, Bain had turned around to wrapped arms around the strong body that held him and pleaded for help from his nightmare.

“Shh, baby. I gotcha. I gotcha. I won’t let ’Papa’ hurt you ever again.” He vowed as his borrowed customer was being drenched in tears.

No child doesn’t have to go this. This fucker was going to die even if Travers get sent to jail for it. Just some bad guys need to be dead then imprisoned for the horrors that they had made.

Then a scream, coming from the front part of the shop, caused one man snapped awake and another to snapped his head to the side. Both ignored what had occurred while Bain was sleeping and just hurried out to the front. Something bad had just happen.
Let’s call it a gut feeling.

****

Ahh, such a pretty little girl. Shh, princess. Shh, don’t cry. I’m here to protect you from the mean old world outside this haven that I had created for all of my children.

You will be forever safe here and very well care for.

Such pretty little girl. I think I will call you.. Caitlyn. Yes, a very pretty name for a pretty little girl.

Oh, that’s a dirty name given by uncaring parents. I always rename my children with pure names. A first step in making you pure.

A second step is through bath, to wash all the grim and dirt from the world outside. Come, Caitlyn, let Papa get you all clean and then afterwards I’ll show your new room and your new brother and sisters.

Such a lovely little girl you are. You were lucky that I was just taking a walk and spot you outside that quaint little book store run by that dirty little queer with rings and balls sticking out of his face and his little dirty lover that had slept with just about half the city and catching all sorts of nasty little diseases.

Ohh, don’t cry, .y little sweetheart. I’m your papa now and I’ll take real good care of you.

Now, here are some rules that you must follow in order to keep you safe….

***

The children watched as Papa took their new little sister with the auburn locks and creamy coffee skin to the upstairs bathroom. Listening to him as he tell her the many rules of this house like he had with each and every one of them when they first had came here.

Later on they will take her under their wing and give her every warning there was. Teach her about the favorites and the punishment room. And that no-one was ever coming for her. Not her parents or the police.

It was better to squash hope before it could be born.

It was better to know the dangers of breaking a rule and making Papa mad.

It was better to know what to expect if she becomes a favorite.

This was their hell and they all know how survive it to their thirteen birthday party. And very soon, Mary the eldest of them all was turning thirteen.

*******8

Slone the dog says: "Merry Christmas and don't forget the review and maybe you'll get an update for New Year's"

A/N; on a sidenote, it's very hard to write two totally different pov's, like one for the bad guy here and one for his victims. It's also very hard to think like a psycho and then like a normal person right after it. So thanks for your praises on how i am writing this story. This type of writing is very new to me, so your nice words do encourge me to keep working on this.