Devils Temptation
Planetoid
- Joined
- Jan 14, 2021
Judge, Jury, & Executioner
Luv & Dev
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Luv & Dev
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Ι΄α΄α΄‘ α΄Κα΄ΚΙͺΙ΄Ι’: α΄‘Κα΄Κα΄ Ιͺα΄ Ι΄α΄α΄ α΄Κ Κα΄ΙͺΙ΄κ±
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"Let's say, for example... there is someone you look up to. Someone you treasure dearly. Do you have that someone in your mind? Good! Now, just for one moment, I'd love for you to reminisce on the memories of that person. Everything warm you shared with them, let it fill up your heart. Every happy memory, every difficulty you surmounted with them, every hint and scrap of love you possessed for them... ah, such a shame..."
...
"Oh dear... your face looks a little pale. Why is that? Smile! You should be smiling right now, don't you think? To be thinking something so warm and cozy like that... why are you not smiling? Do you... maybe feel a little uneasy from those trailing few words?"
...
"Don't be such a bad sport! You know... something is only really beautiful and valuable because it is fleeting. How would you come to put worth on something that lasted forever? You cherish the moments and time you have so much more precisely because you know that the relationship may one day end. That's just what life is, after all! Oh, but... ah. That puts us in a rather difficult position, does it not? After all... you stole someone else's most cherished. That's a little unfair don't you think?"
Wet. Damp droplets of dirty water splattered off the ceiling above. Faintly, a rivulet had begun to flow from the ridge of the man's forehead. Even had someone asked him how he had gotten here... he could hardly have answered them. One moment, he was in a car off the highway headed to his villa to get away from the press. A long deserved vacation after a hazy, difficult spree of allegations. The next, all he had heard was the CRASH of a vehicle colliding with his own. Everything had gone pitch black from that moment forward and the next second he opened his eyes, he was there. Strapped to a chair, stripped down to only his undershirt and boxers, duct tape around his wrist and ankles to the point that his skin had started to mildly tear from the adhesive that dug against his skin. At first, there had been some hint of panic. Fear, bargaining, confusion - but all of it had melted down into an exhausted, quiet resignation after the crippling realization that he had been locked in... god knew where... alone for nearly an hour or two straight. At that point, he hadn't been keeping track.
That sinking feeling of pure, unadulterated despair only grew more pronounced when his captor came to enter the room.
A deep, inviting voice he had heard before. Blatantly polite with sweet, dulcet tones that were all too alluring to listen to.
"...Are you done?" Hoarse. His voice felt painfully dry. Chapped, faintly cracking lips signified that he had been unconscious for enough time to start to need a drink but even he had yet to grow desperate enough to lap at that filthy trickle of water atop his head. A reaction that was all too casual for how he was bound by some unknown assailant - but... well. His assailant hadn't been unknown to him. Smooth, slicked back black hair led down to conventionally handsome, masculine features. The sharp jawline led to flatter cheeks that lacked any sort of blemish or stain. Compared to his own lips, the man standing in front of him had a glossier, eye-catching warmth to his own that curled up in a perpetual, inviting grin. Settled behind the pair of glasses on his brow were equally as warm, dark brown eyes - nearly black in color, though the faint illumination in the room was enough to show a browner undertone. Settled below his expression was a broad, well-built physique. Wide shoulders with the faint flare of muscle along his shoulders and biceps all of which were neatly tucked behind the fabric of a black suit and white dress shirt. No tie for the moment which allowed for some hints of his collarbone and chest to be exposed. Subtly, the carve of his pectorals gave off the very simply assurance that no matter how disarming his voice and face had been, the body underneath was nothing to mess with.
"You're the detective that was trying to grill me a few days ago, weren't you? Orion. Orion Locke. I don't know what bullshit with your bad cop, good cop routine you're pulling, Detective Locke... but just know that once I'm out of here, I'll sue you and the entire department to the point you'll be in a fucking shoebox. Do you have any idea who you're fucking with?" Curving along the gaunt features of the older man, faint hints of his canines were exposed in a domineering grin that assured his assailant that he'd be buried once this bizarre investigation was over. In his mind... he had convinced himself this was just some part of the investigation process. Something desperate these worthless detectives and good two-shoe law enforcement officers would use as a last ditch effort - but he wouldn't talk. There was no need to. Compared to these worthless pigs that were on his payroll, there was nothing that the man couldn't pay off.
"Hm? Oh. You appear to be under a misconception, Sir. I'm not operating under the jurisdiction of the investigation. And... you also aren't going to be leaving here alive, Sir." Orion explained, much like he might explain directions to someone who was lost or explain how to sign out a form at his local precinct.
Naturally, his words were met with another disbelieving scoff from the man who just spat straight along Orion's dark dress shoes.
"How fucking stupid do you think I am? Yeah, no shit you're acting out of your jurisdiction - but you're a cop. You'd never kill someone as high profile as me. It'd end your damn career right then and there. How about you go fuck yours--" SPLATTER. Before the sentence could fully leave his mouth, a crippling scream shattered from his lips. Overwhelming, sharp snaps of pain crashed over his thigh all at once and his hands would instinctively begin shaking as he realized what had happened. Pouring down his thigh were gushes of scarlet blood - so much so that it completely stained his leg and boxers and began to splatter off the edge of his thigh in heavy globs. "--FUCK!! A-AAAGHH... Are you out of your fucking mind?!" All at once, the fear of his life being in danger would crash into him and leave his lungs aching and heaving for breaths while a cold, harsh sweat broke down along his forehead.
"Now, let me see... Vincent Cross... age forty-two... A-list actor. You're an incredibly famous, arguably world-class actor. Money, fame, power..." Wrapped in Orion's right hand had been a Glock 22, index finger tucked around the trigger as he raised it once more - immediately eliciting a pig-like squeal from the older man though just as quickly, Orion had holstered it along his hip carefully and reached for his belt. Undoing the buckle, he dragged the black leather out of the hoops of his pants.
"...but recently you've come under fire for the recent death of your wife and daughter. Through extensive investigation, you were cleared of any wrongdoing and the case of your wife and daughter has gone cold. Despite this, the paparazzi has immediately noted that you've moved on to a second marriage not even a month after you were cleared. The method of homicide committed to your daughter and her mother was --"
"I - I got it... OKAY! I FUCKING GET IT. Just... haah... haa... stop the... stop the bleeding, please... I'll fucking confess... I'll confess to it - that's what you want right? I'll... I'll--"
"-- gunshot wounds, in the case of the wife, but the daughter was taken down much more brutally. Rawness along her throat that coincided with markings akin to asphyxiation. You know, I actually met both of them? A lovely woman, your wife I mean. Demure with graceful features. Gentle tone and meek mannerisms but a loving woman nonetheless. Her daughter was similarly a very meek young lady. Hardly spoke and kept her head lowered at all times. They had filed a report about domestic violence that was promptly thrown out by the records. Polite, yes... but their actions fell in line with how domestic abuse victims acted. Rather, I'm quite confused about something." SNAP. Curling the belt around his wrist, Orion would pace his way over to the man from behind and slowly draped the leather over the line of his neck, enough that the buckle would be lined up just right with his trachea. Slowly, the leather would start to constrict and the garbling pleads, begging, and whining of the older man would coincide with tears and snot running down his features. Thoroughly unsightly... but Orion adored looks like that the most.
"Mr. Cross... why did you not just divorce your wife and leave? Was it greed? Did you hate the idea that she would no longer be under your thumb? That your hard-worked money would be given to her? That people would see you as some sort of deadbeat father and husband? So many options... so many outcomes... and each one would have been better than taking their lives. What a foolish thing you've done... it would have been a drop in the bucket for you... but they were just so fucking disposable, weren't they? Like scraps off a plate... you're rich? Powerful? Those things don't matter to me, Sir. I wonder what your daughter felt as she slowly lost the air in her lungs..."
CLENCH.
"Why is this happening to me?"
"What did I do to deserve this?"
"Why is my own father choking me out?"
"Help, please help me!"
CLENCH.
"Why is this happening to me?"
"What did I do to deserve this?"
"Why is my own father choking me out?"
"Help, please help me!"
CLENCH.
Despite the man's struggling and babbling, the leather belt around his throat - curled tight around the detective's fist would only yank further along his windpipe. Slowly, those cracked lips turned a bluish shade and the thrashing would start to cease. Gradually, the redness in his facial features would start to vanish to instead be replaced by an empty, pale shade once his eyes rolled back into his skull and the drool hooked along the edge of his lips trickled down over his chin. Falling backwards in a lax, unresponsive manner. Four minutes until permanent brain damage. Six until the body begins to die. Orion held that tight vice-grip for twelve.
Just to make sure.
Allowing the belt to fall slack over the man's shoulders, Orion would finally take one deep inhale to steady himself. Moments like these were most saccharine of all. Now, the hard part. To clean up this garbage and ensure that no one found him ever again. Making his way past the chair, his hand would briefly swipe at the nearby coat hangar to tug off his dark trench coat before slinging it over his shoulders. Exiting outside of the door and out of the hallway adjacent to him would reveal all around him... miles upon miles of forestry. An abandoned building far off the grid. The type of place that was difficult to even reach. "Brrr... Autumn is getting a little cold. Now then..."
Five Weeks Later
One cup of coffee and some toast while he watched the news.
After a shower and brushing his teeth, he'd head out to the station for that day.
Once Orion had filled his cat's food bowl, he set himself down in the kitchen to flick over to the news channel before bringing the coffee to his lips. Overly sweet, just the way he loved it.
"Temperatures are cooling down finally after a scorching hot Summer! We are looking at a high of fifty-five degrees on this lovely Fall evening, so remember to take a light jacket. While there are forecasts of mild showers, there is not a high likelihood that it will rain today but better to be safe than sorry. Regarding the recent disappearance of A-List celebrity Vincent Cross, authorities have found a supposed lead pertaining to involvement with some dangerous gangs in the area that may have been involved in the disappearance of Mr. Cross. All of this follows the tragic and heartbreaking loss of his wife and daughter at a homicide incident - God bless their souls. We will keep our viewers notified on any more updates regarding this case. Now, I will hand it off to --" ZZZZT. Tapping the TV remote, he would set the screen to a silent black before getting up and off his seat in the kitchen to return to the closet by his doorway so he could pluck out a coat.
Pausing by the doorway to slip his feet into a pair of dress shoes, he would finally head out for the day - but not before peeking in through the crack in the door to call back...
"I'm leaving for the day, Mr. Mittens! Don't misbehave. I'll have to discipline you if you do~" Right before a delight little mewl would leave the young cat's mouth and with it, Orion would lock the door before heading out for work.
Orion Locke.
Twenty six years old.
After a mere three years of serving as a police officer, he had applied for the role of an investigator before spending another two years as a homicide detective. A man whom was incredibly efficient at his work -- but it hadn't been because of that cutthroat, brutal approach to investigating. No, around the station he was applauded as being a charismatic, friendly detective that could make even the most stone cold of slaughterers open up and treat him as their dearest friend. Polite mannerisms, a sweet smile, that disarming aura that would make even the most heinous of crimes be spoken to him as if the criminals were merely breathing air. That was the type of person that Detective Locke had been. Beloved by his coworkers and effective at his work... but a man that lied through his fucking teeth about who he truly was.
"Mr. Locke, Sir! Regarding the case of Ms. Valentine -"As he entered the police station through the front door, one of the officers, a middle-aged woman with her brunette hair wrapped tight in a bun and a clipboard against her chest would hurry up to him. "- although her case has been closed for some while, she has returned to the station once again citing concerns about her own safety. We were hoping that you would be able to talk her down and make her go home, since you built rapport with her prior?" Alice Pon Valentine. An unfortunate case of a small fish in a massive ocean. Quietly, Orion's eyes scanned over the rest of the lobby of the police station to take note of the people there. Good. No one to worry about. A handful of officers, but no citizens waiting along the lobby. Faintly, a look of relief settled over his features and he would finally nod to his coworker before flashing that charming, softer smile. "Of course, Officer Yang. Which room is she in right now and how long has she been here?"
Walking alongside the officer, his coworker would escort him to one of the interrogation rooms and then motion over it with her hand. "This one right here, Mr. Locke. She's been here for approximately an hour. We've told her many times before that her case has already been processed and worked on... but she's very... well - unsatisfied with the conclusion, to put it politely. I sympathize, but there's really not much we can do at this point. If you could just explain to her and get her to leave, it would be a great help to everyone here." Rather than entering the room right away, Orion would briskly move past the officer to make his way into the communal kitchen in the police station - grabbing a mug and dipping it underneath one of the dispensers. A dark, frothier brown fluid would pour into the mug with the faint hint of steam spilling off of it. Soon after, he would dip two packets of sugar along the drink to raise it off the counter before making his way back to the room.
"It'll be just a few moments, Officer Yang. Please make sure we are undisturbed. There is no need for anyone to overlook this either, so feel free to go on your way. I know working the graveyard shift can be quite difficult." Smiling polite as ever, he would assure the office he required no help... right before opening the door and treading into the room. Cozy-hued floors and walls, a cushioned seat. Disarmingly inviting, a room that made individuals feel as if they were not in trouble. Seated across from the table was the familiar sight of that slender, short ginger woman. Faintly, a chill ran through the room. Deliberately so to make the interrogations a little more cutthroat - not that she was here for an interrogation. Setting the mug down on the table in front of her, the faint scent of hot chocolate would rise to spill across Alice's nose right before the far warmer sensation would settle over her shoulders. Orion would shed his coat, right before tucking it over her shoulders and back to securely wrap her in the warmth right before sitting across from her - in the same way he had a few weeks prior when she had first came to the station. A particularly gruesome homicide case regarding a few individuals that she was close with... something that ended up being buried due to the nature of it and who the allegations were against.
Leaning back a little more comfortably in his seat, he would fold his hands atop his lap and show her that very same smile from those weeks prior. Practiced, but all too easy to grow drunk on.
"I suppose the easy solution here would be to tell you to get out. That I cannot do anything for you. That you should merely go home and cope with this. Does it feel a little bit as if my coworkers are saying something like that without explicitly saying those words? I hope you can forgive them. The nature of this work is rather grating. But, believe me... I have no intention of treating you in that way, Ms. Valentine. Drink." Tapping his fingertip over top the edge of the mug, he leaned in a little closer and allowed the lines of his smile to tug into the edges of his cheek a little further to show fainter hints of those eye-catching dimples. Saccharine and warm, just like that hot chocolate that he had presented her with upon entry into the room.
"If there is something I can do for you... tell me. You've gone through so much grief that I can empathize with. You deserve to be heard. And I will listen. So please feel free to not hold back. Tell me whatever you wish." Opening his arms out in her direction, he motioned for the young woman to speak her heart out. Clearly, she was here for some reason... though concerns about her own safety was one that hadn't necessarily surprised him. Her case. Unusual as it was - it was not the first time he had encountered a case just like it. A young woman that was companions with a group slaughtered in a vicious homicidal killing spree that grew to have intense paranoia after the fact. A few weeks after the case had closed, she had committed suicide.
...Supposedly.
Women like her were volatile, he knew that from experience... but even more than that, her case was eerily similar to that dissatisfying end with that other woman. Incidents like those made him ache and itch - like nails were being carved down his neck. Orion knew that, ultimately, there wasn't much more he could do for her if the judicial system did not pursue the main suspect further... and yet he still offered to listen to her for some reason.
Maybe that was all it was. Maybe he just wanted to offer an ear to a young lady going through her grief.
...
Or maybe not.