Casket of Lights

Act 1 : Beholder

Rossé Lilybeth's POV

The knock on the front door made me jump from my seat. I glanced towards the monitor to see a cop with a towering hair with his face almost kissing the face monitor.

He pressed the record button and said, "Open the door! Rossé, are ya' listening?"

With his accent, I fought the urge to laugh and instantly walked towards the front gate.

"Stan the Pisa, what's with that look?" I asked, smiling from ear to ear. His eyes were squinting at me, as if steam coming out from his ears and nose.

We walked towards the white mirror door and he quickly sat on the white wooden table and said, "I'm warning ya', prisoner six hundred sixty-six." I winched. Every time I heard him say that would made me sent shiver to my spine...the leaning tower of Pisa was pissed.

My eyes landed towards the Scandinavian design house. It felt like a work of art, although it was simple and understated. There was functionality in the furniture along with some intersecting lines, many of which have a sculptural influence.

"Alright, Rossé," he uttered, dropping the thick portfolio to the table. I heard a loud thug as my brows creased while I pursed my lips. He peered at my eyes momentarily, back at the portfolio as he flipped the cover. "Chuckie Takishiro," he said. I nodded, placing my hand under my chin.

"I alright know him. I used my underground connection to know that guy," I said, walking towards my cabinet as I pulled some white folders. I walked towards Stan and continued, "Multi-billionaire syndicate with a case of three serial r**e and accused of child pornography." I clenched my fist as I gritted my teeth. "That guy was awful," I added as I sat beside him.

His expression hardened, veins almost popping out from his temple. I met his eyes and in a dark, cold voice, he said, "Ya' sure ya' not really a killer?" The corner of his lips turned up, giving me a lopsided grin. I closed my fist and fought the urge to punched him. "They will have a gathering in the auction," he added.

"I told you, I'm not," I uttered, looking at my wrist. Long deep scars were there. I gently traced my scars using my index finger. The red crimson lines were still visible.

I don't understand the point of my life. The demons inside me were screaming out of frustration, trying to get out. I tried to kill myself several times, but I wondered about those who wished to live. In the end, suicide is not the solution, you need to live and just rock the world.

I was taken aback when I heard the crack from the wooden chair. I gazed towards Stan who was busy typing on his laptop. Stan looked at me briefly and said, "Plan A, kill Chuckie without anyone knowing that you still exist. Stay low." My breath quickened. Can I really do this?

I pursed my lips and jerked my head towards the laptop as my eyes landed at the screen. He unlocked the security access, plastering list of information about the cops and the personnel that will attend the auction. My mouth immediately dropped as I nodded. Cops and their connection to the government.

"What if I couldn't kill him?" I asked, gazing at the white clock placed at the ceiling. I looked heavenward as it was still nine in the morning.

"Ya' see, there's always a Plan B. Immediate action, the cops will move." Stan stopped typing and glanced towards my direction. "You'll have Detective Redwood as ya' partner," he added.

I took a sharp breath, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment, and asked, "That maniac, crazy detective? That Redhair?"

He keened his eyes on me, his brows knitted and said, "Would ya' behave?" Before I could utter another word, I heard an alarm from the front door. I walked towards the monitor and saw a smiling Redhair, facing the camera. "Speaking of," I mumbled.

My lips turned up, flashing a sweet smile when I saw him raising his paper bag full of potato chips and a pizza on his right hand. I swiftly ran towards the front door as I unlocked it using my fingerprint. My heart pounded fast when I saw his dimples showed up. I snatched up the paper back and headed towards the entrance.

"Detective Redwood, it was nice to see ya' once again," Stan said as he stood up from his seat, extending his hand towards Redhair.

He returned the gesture and he uttered, "Likewise, detective." I was about to pivot my feet when he patted my head with his free hand. My eyes widen in shock. Something was churning inside my stomach. What are you doing, Redhair? Are you a sorceress?

I eyed him and gritted my teeth. "Maniac," I said, giving him a once-over. His deep laughs muffled into my ears before I placed the paper bag at the kitchen counter. The all-white color palettes and the incorporation of natural elements like form-pressed wood, bright plastics, and enameled aluminum, steel, and wide plank flooring, made an aesthetic type of vibe.

"Ocean!" I heard him screamed. "Come here!"

"Redhair the pinewood, what are you doing here?" I asked, furrowing my brows towards him. I saw him grinned. His eyes darted towards the screen monitor, adjusting the lock, and adding his fingerprint.

I walked towards him and pursed my lips, looking at the monitor. Redhair walked towards the door and headed towards his car. I glanced to Stan for a while who was busy eating a pizza while typing on his laptop. I looked up and saw Redhair unloading two huge bags and a small backpack from his car. My knees started to wobble. What is that for?

I fastened my pace until I reached him and asked, "You need help?"

He looked at me momentarily, throwing the small backpack at my face. "You can carry that, Ocean," he said and winked at me. I shook my head as I fought the urge to punch his face. I started walking once again as I saw him carry the two huge bags.

I got curious so I opened the zipper of his small backpack only to find out that there was a lot of chocolate drinks inside. I fought the urge to laugh as I continued walking.

I was caught off guard when I saw him dropped the two huge black bags on the marble floor. He bent a little to grabbed one bag as he placed it on the top of the white wooden table. He slid the zipper open and to my surprise, I saw different gadgets inside the bag.

He snatched something on his bag, searching, "Your identification card," he said, scrutinizing me. "Don't lose it," he added. His lips drew back in a snarl as his face went blank.

My nose crinkled while my mouth curved into a smile, leaning towards him, and asked, "What if I did?"

He looked at me straight in my eye, giving me a dirty look. "I'll roast you," he said, grinning from ear to ear. My face twisted as I heard Stan snorted beside me.

"Earbuds communication," he said, handing me an ear pierce. I raised my brows, as if saying 'what for?' He patted my head and continued, "For communication, of course." He snatched up, a heavy cloth. I tilted my head, analyzing the cloth. "Ultra-thin bullet shirt and trunk," he said, placing it at the table. I glared at the cloth momentarily, studying the thick bullet proof shirt.

"I really don't need that," I mumbled, giving him a half-smile. His mouth set in a straight line. "It's hot when wearing one," I added, biting my lower lip.

"Believe me, baby, you'll need this," he mumbled, looking at me straight in my eyes.

I shrugged both my shoulders and said, "Nah, probably not." Then I winked at him, trying to copy his wink.

I snatched up the cute black glasses on the bag, my jaw dropped when I saw him clicked one button at the right side of the glass, and he said, "Infrared glass."

I nodded, trying to absorb and remember all the names. His gaze went to the small black pistol on the bag. I tilted to see that he was offering to me the pistol on his hand.

"Handgun," he mumbled, searching for the magazines and the manuals on the black bag.

"I know..." I paused for a while, still raising my brows. "But really?" I pursed my lips together, still thinking about the offer. But I chose to decline it as I placed it on the wooden table. "What's the thrill about guns?" I mumbled as I crossed my arms as I snatched up one knife from the bag. It was like a butterfly swiss knife, but it was larger than that.

"Protech automatic knife, Endura sports a three-point seventy-five inched blade," he said, grimace on his face. "Are you sure about that, Ocean?" he asked.

The corner of his eyes crinkled at me, but I just nodded. He blew a sigh, looking at the knife on my hand, and Redhair mumbled, "One hand opening, just need to be taken out its sheath. You know some basic fighting skills?" he asked as he forcefully grabbed my wrist. My brows creased so I squatted down into a strong stance, then leaned forward as I bent my elbows towards him all the way towards his forearm until he could no longer held my wrist.

Perhaps, it was the reason why Redhair chose this spacious, less accessories and functional furniture which characterizes Scandinavian designs, as my house. To kill me gradually while practicing his killer techniques.

He tensed his shoulders as he let a soft sigh. "Alright, I'm coming," he said, dashing towards my direction. In a blink of an eye, I saw his hand on my neck, as I grasp for some air. I pursed my lips together, recomposing myself as I swung one arm across to break his hold. I used my left elbow in a knife strike position to hit him.

"Are you trying to kill me?" I asked, still grasping some air. But the corner of his lips just turned up, studying me for a split of seconds. I instantly ran towards him pinning him on the marble floor. I grabbed his arms as was sitting at the top of him, on his abdomen.

He withdrew his hands as he hooked onto my wrist with one hand and used his other hand to grab behind my elbow, trapping my arm to his chest. Then, he used his foot to trap my foot and leg. "Not on my watch," he said, lifting his hips as he turned over onto my knees to get on top.

He leaned forward, reaching my ears, and said, "One more time, Ocean." He pulled himself and stood up. I stretched my arms as I strengthened my stance.

"Aim for the parts that can do most damage: eyes, nose, ears, neck, knee, legs..." he said. I raised my brows momentarily as I walked towards him. "But not my little one," he continued.

I raised both of my hands to punched him but Redhair always ducked and defended himself. I met his eyes and in a stern voice, he said, "More, baby! Come on."

As he grabbed both of my arm, he pinned me, hugging me from my back. "Still not enough," he whispered. I glanced at Stan who was grinning from ear to ear, nodding while his hand was placed on his chin.

I instantly dropped my weight and tried to hit his head with my elbows. It was as if nothing happened so, I stomped his feet with my feet. "More, Ocean," he yelled. I hissed, face flushing red. I pulled his fingers back to force him to release me, rotating out of his hold, and attacked him with my kicks. I saw him lying, at the cold tiled floor, smirking.

"What's that smell?" I heard Redhair said. My eyes widened as my nose sniffled the burnt aroma of cake, which lingered around the room. "You're cooking something, Ocean?" he added. I nodded rapidly, shutting my lips closed, as I saw his horrified expression.

I instantly ran towards the smoking oven and snatched the wet cloth as I grabbed the burnt cake. I blinked several times to saw that the cake was completely ruined. It was not a cake anymore, for it was burning black. I pressed my lips together as I placed it on the white kitchen table. I let a sigh and sat. My knees liquified, eyes darting towards the burnt cake. I think this is not edible. I caught Redhair and Stan walked towards me.

"What's this?" Stan the Pisa, asked.

I looked heavenward to prevent myself from crying. Redhair patted my hair as he sat beside me.

"I'm not a cook, okay?" I said, twitching my lips. I drew my lower lip between my teeth. I saw Stan with his paled expression while in my peripheral, I saw Redhair gulped his breath.

"Eat up, we have a long night ahead," with a trembling voice, he said. I blew the strands of my hair out of my face when I gazed at Redhair looking at Stan, shoving his hand from his pockets and Redhair asked, "How about you, Stan? Have some bite."

"Ya' see, I'm on a diet," Stan uttered as he turned his back on us. The corner of my lips formed a frowned as I saw him walked towards his laptop, going back to his business. I shook my head and scratched my head. He was on a diet, but his pockets were full of sweets. Tragic!

My eyes darted towards Redhair as he was silently looking at the ruined cake, assessing if he was going to take a bite. His eyes glinted with worry as his hands were trembling with a fork in the air. "You don't have to eat that," I said, head hanging low, wanting to disappear forever. He exhaled as he took a bite.

My brows furrowed when he shut his eyes closed, trying to bite the burnt cake. "I can't take this, Ocean," he said as he instantly went to the sink, throwing up.

I winched as I saw him gargling water from the faucet.

He looked at me once again, face burning red and said, "Let's order some cake."

After some small talks and planning, we immediately went to the place. I climbed down from his Lamborghini car, eyes towards the Fleuvis Savior Museum de Artiste opening banner. The walls and the exterior designs of the Museum looked like the mixture of modern and contemporary building, full of curving lines with the touch of minimalistic design.

Before I could take a step, Redhair yelled, "Hey wait!"

I glanced back at him, creasing my brows, and asked, "What?" He lifted his hand, quick flicked of his finger, as if saying, 'come on' towards my direction. I leaned towards him with brows snapped together. "Come closer, Ocean," he added.

I rolled my eyes in annoyance as I moved closer. Redhair snatched a silver necklace from a small red box as he gently placed the necklace around my neck. "Beautiful," he whispered with his mouth smiling wide.

It was as if there was a lump formed on my throat, cheeks on fire. "What's this?" I asked, heart speed racing.

"A necklace," - he said, grinning. He bit his lips momentarily before he continued, "attached with a camera... in case you run away from me."

I laughed. Then, I shook my head, trying to ease my thought. I walked away from him as I glanced towards the sky covering in gradient shades of blue. The sun was hiding on the clouds as the cold breeze pierced my skin.

I walked inside the museum with its white marbled floor. I saw Stan standing behind the guards. I nodded as I met his eyes. "Redhair, do you copy?" I asked while adjusting my earpiece.

There was a long silence before I heard his dark voice, with a stern voice, he said, "Copy."

As I scanned my eyes towards the surroundings, I passed the full-length mirror. Because of my curiosity, I went back and glanced towards the mirror. My sight was drawn to my reflection, a girl with a blue hair flowing down over her shoulder. Her newly plucked eyebrows eased down to her delicate ocean eyes, accompanied with her night-black long eyelashes. Her gown was as blue as her eyes, glittering in a classic designed dress, showing the curve of her body.

"Where are you?" I asked, frowning towards the mirror. My eyes caught the giant cube with an amorphous hole pushing its center, creating a void effect. The designer of this museum must be exceptionally talented.

"Searching for a parking," he said. A strong feedback from him made me scrunched my face. I heard him coughed and said, "Wait for me, baby."

My forehead furrowed, face burning red, and uttered, "Redhair, you're making me look like a slut. Cut the crap out." He just laughed in return. The mixture of chitchats, soft laughs, and soft music lingered around the four corners of the museum. I observed the number of people as they slowly increasing.

"The auction will start at eight and ends after twelve. Be ready, Ocean." I heard Redhair said from the other line. I pressed my lips together, wiping the sweaty palms.

I can do this. You have to do this.

I glanced towards the constellation of lights, set into undulating glass. I continued walking still gazing towards the ceiling. "In your front, Ocean," he said.

My eyes widened when he was already inches away from me and uttered, "Coming through excuse me!"

I hissed when I felt his shoes on my feet. I winched. I reached my hand on his hair and started pulling it, and yelled, "You stepped on my new shoes!"

I froze for a while, he was familiar. I observed his blue dyed hair. His hair was like a moss, looking green when a light touched it.

I smirked when I saw his name on his shirt, Clinfort Felix. "I'm sorry. Can you please let my hair go?" Clinfort pleaded. "Monster!"

"Ocean," - in a calm voice, Redhair said. I loosened my grip, pursing my lips as I pivoted my feet, turning my back away from him. - "the new boy's lifting his fist at your back," Redhair warned. My eyes glinted with fire when I saw his fist in the air. Clinfort dropped his hands down, faking her smile. I rolled my eyes in annoyance.

I heard whispers on the other line as I heard his footsteps.

"Where are you, Ocean?" with his stern voice, he asked.

I stopped walking as I bent a little to massage my left foot. "Going to the lobby," I said as the corners of my mouth quirked up, walking towards the nearest velvet colored sofa.

"Alright, I'm coming, baby," he added. I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting my urge to kill this guy, calling me lots of nicknames. Tragic! This guy needs saving.

"You're still the same," a mezzo-soprano voice said.

I opened my eyes. My jaw went slightly agape as I saw a girl with a deep brown colored eyes, grinning from ear to ear. The corner of my lips turned up. She fixed her eyeglass on the bridge of her nose using her right index finger as she gritted her perfectly aligned teeth. "Rossé," she added.

My expression dulled as if the color from my face drained. I folded my arms, levelling my chest, preventing myself to stutter, "You're alive?"