World Class Special Edition Short: The Death Of Nats

Post By MangaCool Jason Mon Feb 16, 2004 at 01:36:39 am EST	Subject World Class Special Edition Short: The Death Of Nats

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WARNING: This story is basically me messing around with writing experiments at 1 a.m., and therefore may be offensive to nearly everyone and everything. It also may cause glaucoma, blindness, insanity, temporary insanity, seizures, leprosy, the Apocalypse, and/or traffic hazards. The author bears no responsibility, dammit! Oh yeah, and please don't hurt me.

World Class Special Edition Short - The Death of Nats

    Rain fell upon the ancient Mason Memorial Cemetery. It was hallowed ground where the dead were buried both in sadness and in pride, a resting place for the heroes of Garden City and elsewhere. Many were heroes who lived out their lives knowing that they've done their part to save the world. Others' lives were cut short in their prime in wars, or simply trying to save the city.

    Fire fighters, police officers, soldiers, leaders...and a few proclaimed by the people of the city to be heroes, in spite of their status or lack thereof. Buried at Mason Memorial were people who were carried in the heart of Garden City forever.

    It was raining the day they buried a man known only as Nats. He had never been to Garden City before, and didn't plan to stay. But during his short visit, the saga of his tragic demise touched the hearts of people in the small city and his status was raised to that of hero overnight.

    Unusual, because unlike many of the heroes who died fighting in Garden City, he had, sadly, been murdered by a prostitute who had managed to enter the wrong hotel room, and decided to rob him anyhow. He clung to his wallet, and found himself at the business end of a 9 mm pistol. Even more tragic about the incident was that he was killed over just three dollars and a coupon.

    Tom Darling, the police officer who arrested the prostitute calling herself 'Rosie Cheeks', was present at the funeral, as well as the two detectives who investigated the murder scene - Sean Morrison and Keiko Chinato.

    It was beginning to rain slightly as the casket was slowly lowered into the ground. Not a word was spoken, but eyes were all lowered. A few people opened umbrellas, including Sean, who was covering himself and his partner, Keiko. Unusually, the two were in full dress uniform, as was the tradition of police officers attending a funeral at Mason Memorial.

    "I still feel wrong about this," Keiko whispered as she followed Sean back to the car, parked in a lot across the street, at the end of the ceremony. She was paying so much attention to Sean as she crossed the street that she nearly wandered right into a dark hooded figure who was heading into the same parking lot. "Oh...excuse me--" She paused to look at the figure. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

    "I am the world renowned, the feared...the Hooded Hood!" he said in a powerful voice. He looked at the street and then back at Keiko. He lowered his voice and said, "May I hitch a ride to the airport? I can't seem to be able to hail a taxi in this rain."

    "Sure, why not." Keiko opened the back door of the Mercedes for the Hooded Hood. She climbed into the front passenger seat of the car herself, placed her police hat in her lap, and looked into the back seat as she waited for Sean to begin driving. "Were you at the funeral?"

    "Yes," the Hooded Hood said, "It was rather amusing. He has you all fooled."

    "What?" Keiko narrowed her eyes. "Have you no heart? He's dead!"

    "I'll have you know that Bill Reed is alive and well," the Hood said. "He tried to fool me as well...and he will pay dearly!" He composed himself and leaned back in the rear seat. "If I ever get to the bloody airport, that is. Bloody taxicabs are--"

    "What the hell are you talking about?" Keiko asked. "Who is Bill Reed?"

    "You don't know?" the Hood laughed. "You're easier to fool than I thought."

    Keiko turned angrily to Sean and quickly said, "Stop the car. Our hooded friend will be walking the rest of the way to the airport. With a limp."

    "No! No, I'll tell you." The Hooded Hood sighed. "That is Nats' civilian identity."

    "But Nats is dead!" Keiko frowned. "If you continue to waste my time by talking in circles--"

    "You'll do what? You think you can harm the Hooded Hood?"

    "Sean, stop the car--"

    "No, wait, wait." The Hooded Hood sighed again. "Nats is dead. You are correct. He's dead because Bill Reed killed him. He wanted to be freed from his disgustingly heroic identity--" He looked around suddenly and noticed that the car had stopped. "I did as you asked! Why have we stopped?"

    "Because we're at the airport." Keiko gave him a sly grin. "Let me give you some advice, Mr. Hood. Next time you need help from someone, do yourself a favor and leave the megalomania at home."

    The Hooded Hood climbed out of the car, grumbling to himself quietly as he did. Once the car drove away, he walked into the airport, drawing his airplane ticket from his robe, and waited in line for security. He arrived at the security checkpoint within minutes.

    "Please remove your robe and feed it through the conveyor," the security officer said.

    "The Hooded Hood removes his hood for no one!" the Hood announced in a loud, booming voice.

    The officer frowned, picked up his radio, and said only two words. "Strip Search!"

---

    A half hour later, Keiko and Sean were back on the road, only this time back in their civilian clothes. They had originally planned to take the rest of the day off as many in the Department had, but the tale of Bill Reed intrigued them. They raced quickly back to the hotel where they had investigated the death of Nats earlier.

    "The coroner found a body, didn't he?" Keiko asked as they entered the hotel.

    Sean shrugged. "Since we're detectives we usually arrive after the bodies have been removed. No telling where it went...if there was one." He stopped at the desk and showed his badge as he asked the clerk, "Is there a Bill Reed staying here?"

    "Yes," the clerk said after a short delay. "He's in room 0410."

    "Thanks." Sean raced for the elevator, Keiko was close behind. They took the elevator up to the fourth floor and walked down the hall to a door marked 0410. "You knock, I'll cover you," Sean said.

    Keiko nodded and knocked on the door loudly. There was no verbal answer, but she could hear movement inside the room, so she knocked again. "Bill Reed? This is the police. Open up."

    After a few more seconds, the lock clicked, and the door opened slightly. One eye peered through the open door crack, and widened as it spied Keiko. The door then opened completely.

    "Thank you," Keiko said. She headed into the room, gently pushing a bewildered Bill aside as she did. Sean followed, and closed the door behind him.

    "What...? Why...?" Bill started to say. He looked at Keiko and changed the his mind entirely as to what to say. "You're a cop? But you're...hot!" He then cried out as two of Keiko's fingers jammed into the center of his chest painfully.

    "Pay attention, Bill, because I'm only going to say this once." Keiko stood close to him and folded her arms. "We know you tried to fake your own death."

    "No, I tried only to fake the death of Nats," he pointed out. "That's not illegal."

    "Maybe not," Sean interrupted, "But you have a lot of explaining to do."

    Bill sighed sadly and sat down. "All Nats has ever gotten me is killed. No money, barely any fame, and I still have a crappy job. I don't need the stress anymore. So I decided to just...start over as me. As Bill."

    "I suppose that's understandable," Keiko whispered. "I did much the same thing at one point in my life. I'm sorry I poked you in the chest."

    "Maybe you can make it up to me?" Bill asked, holding out his arms as if inviting a hug. He frowned and dropped his arms when Keiko didn't move. "Come on, I'm trying to be a new man here. Work with me?"

    "No one is going to start sleeping with you just because you ditched your super-hero persona," Keiko informed him. She frowned, and added, "And on that topic, why was there a prostitute involved in the death of Nats, Bill?"

    He shrugged. "It sounded a lot more tragic that way than as a suicide. Besides, I kind of want my friends to think I was gettin' it on all the way to the end."

    "Anyone who believes that deserves what you're selling them," Keiko said.

    "Why are you so mean to me?" Bill asked.

    "Because I dislike any person who thinks they have everyone fooled," Keiko admitted. "Most often that is the biggest fool of all."

    "I'm not trying to fool everyone," Bill said, "only the Lair Legion. I want them to think Nats is dead and gone. No one else really cares."

    "What have they ever done to you?" Sean asked.

    "Oh, let's see." Bill began listing items, pointing to a finger on his hand for each one. "They keep getting me killed, they won't pay me, they fired me, and they treat me like I'm an idiot." He looked at Keiko and added, "Sort of like you're doing now."

    "I would apologize, but I fear you may repay me by trying to hug me again," Keiko responded.

    Bill almost protested, but then relented. "Hm. You're right, I would." He backed away when Keiko took a step toward him.

    Keiko smiled at that. "I'm not going to hurt you." She shrugged. "You were right. You've done nothing illegal. We have no further business with you, so I'm going to shake your hand and leave."

    "That's it?" Bill asked. He looked at Sean, who nodded slowly.

    "Yeah, that's it," Sean said. He reached out and shook Bill's hand. "Good luck."

    A moment later, Keiko reached out too. Bill reluctantly took her hand as if she could rip his arms clean off if he mishandled it. He shook her hand gently. "I apologize if I seemed harsh," she said. "Good luck with your new life. I hope it works for you."

    "Can I have a hug now?" Bill asked.

    Keiko shook her head and laughed. "Not a chance." She turned and left the room with Sean just ahead of her.

    Once the door closed, Sean asked, "How long do you think Nats will stay dead?"

    "I'd give it a week, tops," Keiko replied.

-- Story written and copyrighted (C) 2004 by Jason Froikin, and may not be
-- reprinted without permission.
-- World Class and all characters therein are property of
-- Strike Two and Jason Froikin.

To the Spirit of the Night, I surrender...

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