American Devil

Chapter 11: Tornado

The police scuttled out of his apartment, with empty promises that they would find this burglar. He doesn't correct them that it's not a burglar but a CIA agent. The buffoons didn't even ask him if he had anything taken. Hell, they assumed he was the thief, and it took 5 minutes of de-escalation by the landlord, who confirmed that he lived there, before they relaxed. He was just glad that they got out as soon as possible. The moment the door is closed behind them, Kyro is gone, teleporting to his office.

While his apartment showed no signs of forced entry apart from the broken lock, the office looked like a stampede ran through it. He stands there at the doorway, scowling in anger. His body is vibrating with the desire to disappear, teleport somewhere, go grab Vanessa, but he still doesn't know where. So, he just stands there and takes in the ruins of their lives.

All of the documents from Vanessa's desk are on the floor. Her computer is still on, open on a word document, and the TV is stopped on an episode of that new anime she was watching. The chair is overturned, and he realizes that she must have been caught unawares sitting there, dragged from what should have been a safe space, kidnapped by those vile people who claim to be on the side of justice.

He steps forward and hears a faint crack underneath his foot. He lifts it up quickly and glances down to see what he stepped on. It's a cracked photograph, the one that used to sit proudly on Vanessa's desk, of the two of them. He picks it up gently. Their arms are around each other in the photo, and they are grinning so wide, standing in front of the door to the office they just bought, the name behind them on display.

He remembers his cheeks hurting so much that day. Both of them were so ecstatic that not even a storm could drench their happiness. They had had to drag in an unassuming passerby from the hallway, a woman who worked two floors up but was on their floor on a break visiting a friend, to take a photo of them. She laughed at their enthusiasm as they shoved a camera into her hands and made them yell "cheese" as she took five photos. "I want to make sure that at least one comes outright." She had said Next time she came around, Lilly had brought down cookies. She's done it every year since, on the anniversary of their moving into the office, a tradition that they all cherished that blossomed from one silly moment.

Kyro smiles as he recalls the incident. Most of his memories of Vanessa are like that, tinted with a ray of happiness, joy, loyalty, and friendship. He remembers the first time he met her. It was one of his first cases. Well, vigilante cases, not P.I. ones.

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He had been tracking down a serial cat burglar for at least a month. The police couldn't catch the man, and Kyro, convinced that he could do better, took it upon himself to catch him. He had barely had a wink of sleep that entire month, and he still wonders to this day how he did not die from sheer sleep exhaustion. Sadly, it turned into a habit afterwards, and he barely slept when he was working on a case, his entire body so wired to catch the bad guys that he could not pass out no matter what he tried.

But that was his first case.The burglar had hit up five houses prior to the one that got him caught, stealing valuable jewels and leaving all of the technology behind. Kyro had figured out his pattern, realizing that the man only ever robbed houses whose owners worked the night shift and were never home. He had narrowed down the neighborhood the man operated in.

Then he proceeded to spend the entire week on roofs, watching every apartment in the neighborhood, figuring out their schedule. He had felt a bit like a stalker, but he knew it was necessary to stop the guy. And stop him he did.

The guy was lying unconscious on the ground with the jewels and the gun lying right next to them. Kyro wasn't as efficient back then, but he had managed to catch this guy before he could escape. They had had a brief tussle, but the burglar hadn't been prepared for a fight, hadn't been prepared for any opposition at all. It had been easy to knock him out.