This is my final decision. I will stick with this, no matter if anybody reads it or not. I chose this because I've been writing Action, but not much Mystery.

O.R.T. Stands for: Oral Rehydration Therapy.

http-~~-//www.youtube.com/watch?v=3FqZ9AezbB4

 

Is it lonely where you are...

In there... Dad?

Does the darkness know your name?

Does Mom?

 

What's it like?

Can you feel?

She said her blood turns to ash

Laughing...

Dad, do you know what you've done this time to me?

 

Oh,

 

Burning eyes can't forgive you

Howling moon drives on

And deep in me

Your illusion

What you see in me

Is...

 

Did you have that dream again?

Release...

Breathe...

You're receiving what you said

Said she

Never mind

Emptiness, dead eyes and lost what you found

 

Maybe there on the edge is your hope

But you don't look down

Why?

There you go saying nothing

Here's my mind unclear

Or

Could it be?

Maybe something has a hold of me

 

Like...

The lyrics of this song will relate to the story.

 

 

 

Chapter One: Can you hear me, Dad?

Fang sat in his desk, the teacher pointing at long equations written across the board. Fang drew a long, deep breath, and leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. The white almost blinded him, reflecting the sunlight into his eyes. He rubbed them, expelling the breath he held. The bell rang, and the teenagers cheered, nearly running over the teacher as they exited the classroom. Fang rose to leave, when the teacher called his name. "Fang! Come here for a second."

 

Fang obliged and strolled to his desk. "I know you've been interested in this recent upheaval in burn victims. Look at this newspaper from a few days ago." The teacher gave him a rolled up newspaper, the headline blared:

 

Fire kills 13 people in St. Cloud, Minnesota

In this recent spike of burn-related deaths, over 300 hundred people have died.

No perpetrator has been found, police still search. Read the full story on A5

 

 

"Another? It's almost as if it's working down here to Minneapolis." Fang said with surprise.

"That it just may be. Who is the killer, and how is he so elusive? Oh, Fang, you take the bus? Get going."

Fang nodded, offering the newspaper, but the teacher gestured for him to keep it. He exited the building, glad to breathe fresh air. He boarded the bus, and the bus groaned as it carried its' occupants down the street. He sat in the first seat, and placed his head against the window. He watched the trees flash by, and the air around them tinged gray. The gray got deeper, like fog. The bus driver stopped, marveling at the sight.

 

Fang stood up, and patted him on the soldier. "Hey, Jonny, what's u--..." Fang stopped, choking on his words. His apartment building stood over the street, in bright flames. "Open the doors! Now!" He said, wincing at the demanding tone in his voice. The bus driver sheepishly obeyed, and Fang clambered out of the bus and in front of his building. There were no police around, so the fire must have started recently. Sirens blared in the distance, stagnantly advancing to Fang's building. Fang felt as if a cold fist grasped his heart. "Dad! Dad!" He called. "Dad! Can you hear me? Dad!" Fire broke the windows, glass showering him. He remembered his mother dying the same way, and he suddenly knelt, holding back tears. He balled his fist, and punched the ground. His knuckles bled profusely, staining the ground with thick blood. The sirens finally approached the building, and streams of water doused the flames almost immediately.

 

Fang looked at his hand, the skin covering it loose and had streaks through it, blood dripping through. He heard a click behind him. He stood up, turning around. A police officer stood there with his gun, pointing it at Fang. Another officer pulled Fang's hand back, latching cold metal onto it. The other arm followed suit, and Fang was shocked. First, his dad dies. Only member of the family left. And now, he's cuffed by a cop. He opened his mouth to speak, but a blunt force struck his head, the words dying in his mouth. His vision went black, and Fang thought, I think it's safe to say life won't be normal anymore.

Oh god, the video's image gives me nightmares.

 

But you have a great story there, keep it up.

Chapter 2: Leaving a cop's job to a teenager?

Fang's family lawyer came as soon as he heard. They said they were still in the interrogation process, so he had to wait in the observation room, if he wished to oversee the process. He now sat in the room, glaring through the two way mirror, angry that they didn't think Fang was culpable.

 

The officer in the observation room leaned on the table, asking questions that Fang was sure had nothing to do with the fire. "Talk, dammit!" The officer pounded the table. "You want me to talk, eh? Fine. Why do you think that I set my apartment building on fire? My dad was in there, and I'm not a parent-killing psychopath. Let's say I am guilty of this crime. What would I have to gain? Ashes of a building? I'd rather live in an unburned building, thank you." The officer's face turned to a slight tinge of red, but then strangely, he calmed. "Fine. Say what you want. You're due to appear before a judge."

 

And with that, he left, slamming the door behind him. Soon, his lawyer came in. "Ah. Now my lawyer's thinking I killed my dad. Anymore unfortunate happenings you want to shower on me, God?" His lawyer sighed. "Fang, I know they think you did it. But I don't think you have the neither the guts nor the motive to kill your dad." Fang didn't know whether to take the statement as an insult or a compliment. "At least someone's on my side." His lawyer smiled at him, glad that Fang was still sane. Then, another officer came into the room.

 

"Fang. We have a proposition for you. Since you claim you have not done it, we're willing to give you a window of opportunity. We don't think it was you, though common sense points to the possible solution. You have five days to find the perpetrator, or you're going to jail for mass homicide, of course, before then tried by a judge, but the trial in it of itself would be moot, because it's obvious that you'd done it. So, to put it together, you have five days to find the killer. If not, you go to jail. If you do manage to track him down, you win, you are culpable."

 

Fang nodded. "Yes, but isn't that a cop's job? Not a teenager's?"

"Yes, but the force is too busy investigating a different case."

"Challenge accepted. I'll find this killer, and I'll put an end to the burnings." Fang almost chuckled at his choice of words. It was a force of habit, whenever he was presented with a hardship, the words just flew out of his mouth.

 

"Remember, you will be under close watch from the city's mounted cameras. And don't try to run of--." There was a loud bang at the door, cutting him off. There were a few struggled grunts, and the door opened, revealing Justin, Max, and Jessie. "Hey! Get back here!" A cop yelled, but to no avail. "Guys! What are you doing here?!" Fang shouted involuntarily. "We're here to break you out o-- I mean, um, we're here to say 'Have fun in jail,'." Justin stammered.

 

"Ah! Accomplices!" The officer said. "I guess you'll be helping him?"

"With what?" Max asked, sitting on the table. Max, always the first to calm himself in an awkward situation.

"Finding the burner."

"Oh, really? A mystery, then?"

"Sort of."

 

Fang was too embarrassed to speak, because it's not everyday a teenager's friends barge in on his interrogation.

"You're all due to go when you please. When you do, your time limit will start." The officer stated, trying to push Max off of the table.

Jessie isn't talking? Well, she always was a silent type.

 

[sorry, was a bit rushed writing this. My friend on facebook kept urging me to write faster since he was so excited from reading the first chapter.]

Chapter 3: First steps

"Dammit! Why? It was just..." Justin said, his eyes brimming with tears.

Oh...Justin's parents lived in my building...he thought they were grocery shopping.

"Justin, calm down. I'll punch the killer in the face for you." Fang said, his voice echoing down the dark street. Justin sobbed. "It's not good enough...he will pay!" Justin said, convulsing over the burned building. What hinted him that his parents burned? His mother's handbag. Seemingly the only item that had survived. Mostly because it was made of inflammable material, Fang forgot the name. "Justin...just...now's not the time to cr..." Fang trailed off, looking at sandpaper flap sticking out from under the handbag.

 

"What is that?" Fang wondered out loud, clipping it between his thumb and forefinger. He pulled it out, the handbag rolling slightly. He looked closely at the flap, the hurried writing a bit unintelligible. The sandpaper was smudged with ash and soot. Fang rubbed his fingers over the writing, the gray lifting from the sandpaper. The note read:

"What? The devil reaps?" Justin wondered out loud, wiping tear streaks from his face. Fang flipped the sandpaper, and there were more words on the back:

"Daniel Umin." Justin said, and everybody looked at him. "What? He lived in our building. He was a priest, and he spouted nonsense of the devil. But..."

Fang cut him off. "It means nothing. So far, so terribly." He grimaced. "But this may be a clue. Don't just shrug it off. It may be a... sort of ridd--" Fang cut him off. "We'll study it later, okay? Let's keep searching." Justin sighed, but maybe Fang was right. It probably was nothing. As they searched the wreckage, pushing aside skulls and bones, Fang felt he was being watched. By whom, he didn't know. He turned around, and looked into the building across the street, catching a glimpse of a fluttering curtain. "Guys...stay here. I think I saw something over there." Fang said, running across the street.

 

He opened the front door, which, was surprisingly unlocked, but when you think of the possibilities, it suddenly isn't surprising. He stayed silent, sauntering over to the staircase door. He pushed it open cautiously, and proceeded immediately after careful observation. He composed himself, and continued up the steps silently, and heard a door creak. He decided being slow wasn't going to help, so he dashed up the flights of stairs. He saw someone in the corner of his eye as he neared the third floor. He grabbed the person's shirt collar, and pushed him into the wall. "H-hey...w-w-what are y-you doing?" The man asked, and Fang realized he was wearing a janitor uniform. " Oh...sorry...thought you were someone else..." He sighed, and let go, and the person slumped to his knees.

 

"Fang?" He heard Jessie's voice echo up the stairs. "We found something you might want to see..."