The title Spell 'Laughter' with Capital S means Slaughter. Just for you to understand the content of the story much better.
It contains soft slash, nothing M-rated in term of sexual content. Perhaps M-rated for some gore and all. Surely you can handle it.
Please, don't be too harsh on me. It is my first story after all. The story was probably inspired after watching Hannibal... December 26 2009, I bought the book Dexter and just realized wow he and Jeremiah are quite alike. Though I have never read or known the story before I wrote this story years ago.
Enjoy! Reviews will be returned of course with great pleasure.
I indeed felt very honored that an Inuyasha fanfic authoress (Samayoshi) to put this in her fanfic: (Thank you my friend!)
Go to and look for Spell Laughter With A Capital S. I warn, this author girl is a big yaoi fan, so be careful. You might be treading on unstable waters because this girl can go cra-azy. It's a police thing sort of inspired by silence of the lambs-ish and like SAW too but less gruesome, so there is some intense morbidity and detailed murders if you know what I mean. Like in the first chapter one of the heads is found with something burned on the back under the hair…it gets more…livid but it's really good!! I swear by it!! And all the twists in the story make up for the small errors!
Spell Laughter with Capital "S"
By Kalista Jia
"Ugh, what a foul smell." Jeremiah blocked his nose with his navy sleeve as he exited from the crime scene. The yellow dupe tapes kept the curious bystanders aside while the swarm of policemen and inspectors crowded the small apartment.
Another policeman walked out of the door with disgust pasted on his smug face. He snickered beside Jeremiah. "Man, it stinks worse than horse shit in there. That is why I don't like to deal with homicide. This time's killer is quite gruesome."
"You think so, Dave?" Jeremiah gave a weak smile to his senior patrol partner.
Dave laughed humorlessly, lighting a cigarette. "Crazy kid, you find it normal to find a freaking charcoal-burned head nicely placed on a table while the body was deposed under his car parked downtown at three o'clock in the afternoon? It is several miles away from his residence. That is one psycho nut killer. Hey we are talking about rush hour. How the hell did he manage to drag a bloody body around the busy streets with no witness? Hell if I know."
Jeremiah shrugged nonchalantly. "Murderers are getting more and more skilled these days, aren't they? If you observe the professional killers' work carefully, you will notice that they often tend to leave clues to toy with the police. A professional criminal is a flawless actor. You may track him down but you, yourself, are being watched." Jeremiah leaned back, a mocking smirk on his face.
"Don't smart me, kid." The older policeman pointed his cigarette at his junior and snorted.
"I am just saying. Don't have to get all offensive." The brunet grinned widely. "And please, don't call me 'kid' when you are only seven years my senior? What are you, 30?"
Dave muttered unwilling under his breath. "28"
"Well, not better." Jeremiah ruffled his hazel colored hair and grinned eerily. "Five years older, no biggie."
"Hey, don't freaking smile like that. It makes you look like an idiot." The older man sighed exasperatedly and inhaled the toxin from the cigarette into his lungs.
"What about you? Smoking that poison during work like an infant missing its milk bottle," Jeremiah shook his head and laughed.
"Watch your tongue," Dave hissed as he dropped his cigarette and crushed it mercilessly on the ground. "Or you will share the same fate as this cigarette."
"Oh god, the scene is disturbing." A female voice coughed out. "Poor guy."
"Hey Yilind, it smells like your perfume in there." Dave joked, earning a hard glare from the tall policewoman who just rushed out.
"Dave, just do us a favor and shut up." She finally said tiredly and plopped next to Jeremiah against the apartment railing. "Oh, if perfume were to smell like this, half of the female population will be labeled as nuts already. Ah, and put it in your head already that I don't use perfume."
"Too tomboyish to effeminate yourself?" Dave smirked teasingly.
Yilind rolled her eyes. "God you are hopeless. Anyway, since both of you are so free to chitchat, new orders." She said wearingly and shoved a folder up Jeremiah's chest. "Go investigate on the missing men in the area." Dave was about to complain when she held her hand up her face. "No 'but', get your ass moving already."
Jeremiah flipped through the papers, totally indifferent by the addition task. "Disappearance huh? This should be more interesting to solve. It is like watching a live thriller series."
"That's the spirit." Yilind brightened her smile. "See, Dave? You should be more like Jeremiah, capable, cool, nice, love his work, doesn't go around offending people and not to mention, he has the look, tada! A perfect chum for any lonely girl."
Jeremiah grinned at the complements.
Dave just snorted loudly. "Women and their stupid prince charming image. Yilind, you sound desperate. Maybe Jeremiah sweet heart here can help you get laid."
"Eh, no thanks." Jeremiah and Yilind responded simultaneously.
Dave blinked and blinked, twice. "Wow, talk about couple." He added an admiring whistle.
"Don't kid yourself, Dave. Jeremiah is not my type any way." Yilind said it with a straight face.
"Hey, now I thought women are supposed to be secretive." Dave frowned in thought. Turning to Jeremiah, he elbowed him. "Brat, you just got rejected."
The brown haired policeman blinked at where the conversation was heading. "Huh? Oh it is fine. I don't want a relationship anyway."
"Poor Jeremiah. Don't worry. After this, we will find you a good girl, alright?" Yilind patted roughly the brunet's back and winked.
"Or either, a boy if he turns out to be gay." Dave snickered. "That's what you get for being asexual."
"Hello, I am still here, people. Don't gossip about me when I am just right in front of you!" Jeremiah rolled his brown eyes in frustration.
"Anyway, we will talk about Jeremiah's sexual orientation later on, get your lazy bums moving!" Yilind gave both men a kick on their shin and went back to the crime scene.
"I bet her past life, she was a man." Dave huffed as he rubbed his sore shin.
Jeremiah chuckled, putting the papers back into the beige folder. "Since you complain so much and love to gossip, your past life must be a woman."
"Now, you are dead." Dave gave Jeremiah a punch on his arm as they both wrestled immaturely to their patrol car. "Jeremiah, you are such a damn brat."
The district they drove by was quiet and appeared almost dead. Dave decided to abandon the patrol car in the parking lot to save gasoline, for the world was suffering from global warming. In actual fact, the sudden thought of helping the environment was most likely to conserve the few pennies left in his wallet. As the two policemen walked the streets, the by-passers whispered a few murmurs from here and there and quickly distanced themselves away. Silence fell upon the area again
"Pleasant glares we're getting, aren't we?" Jeremiah forced a fake smile at the eerie sensation he was receiving from the pedestrians.
The duo marched quietly down the street in search of someone generous enough to provide information to aid them on the case. For minutes they wondered from junction to junction like lost souls until they reached a certain corner where children's laughter could be heard. Curiosity pecked the two officers' interest.
It was an old wooden church built apart from other modern buildings. It stood solidly above the green terraces, on the edge of the community border. There was a cemetery located behind the building that seemed to be well protected by giant oaks trees from heavy, polluted raindrops that might awaken the dead from their eternal sleep. On the yard, Jeremiah spotted a little group of youngsters playing loudly in their little fantasy world as if the outer world around them ceased to exist. Their innocent freedom lit Jeremiah's heart with envy.
"Hello, gentlemen," a voice caught the two men off-guard. The sudden appearance of a senior priest caused both of them to recoil backward. "Are you here to pray to our Almighty Lord or simply to talk to the children?"
Puzzled, Jeremiah quickly chose the latter without consulting with his partner. The idea of wasting time praying to an invisible being wasn't part of his habitual schedule. The old man's expression winced in disappointment at his choice on the matter but was rapidly brightened by a welcoming smile.
"Young men, I welcome you both to Rosen Helene Orphanage Institution." The priest tilted his head and turned around. "This way please. I can assure you that the children will be delighted to meet visitors." The man stopped at the church entrance and spun back to face the officers. "Oh, how could I forget the introduction? Yes, yes, my old age is getting to me now. I am Father Sammos, and you?" Sammos asked in a hoarse voice.
"I am Dave Linber and…he is a fellow coworker called Jeremiah, Jeremiah…" Dave dragged his sentence for his lack of memory of the lad's last name. Jeremiah, who was standing behind the older man, received a backward kick.
"I am Jeremiah Covaled. As you can judge from our uniforms, we are from the police department, here to investigate the missing men in this area. Do you have any clue that could be helpful?" The younger man employed a serious tone that amazed Dave, who had labeled the other as having IQ disorder.
The old man opened his wrinkled mouth to speak but was interrupted by the cries of the orphans. He quickly made a bow of apology and ran to the source of the disturbance, leaving the officers in the entrance of the church, unattended.
"Hell Jeremiah, I have no idea you can be this capable."
"You haven't seen a bit of what I am truly capable of."
"Alright, don't flatter yourself because I gave you a damn compliment. You still have damn long way to go in future. Wear a granny diaper so you won't piss your pants wet when the real battle begins." The officer's bad habit of cursing in every sentence had been reactivated ever since the priest left.
"I am perfectly fine. You shouldn't shout so much, mister 'Almighty-Superior', or you might never get married."
"Why you… little shithead!"
Their voices echoed dramatically within the hollow church. The chirpings of the early bird stopped at the intense vibrations of the air caused by the men's quarrel. They were so heated in their flying insults that they failed to detect another presence next to them.
For the second time that day, the two policemen let out a small screech and were at the point of drawing their guns. Before them stood a slimly built young man, in his late teen, who appeared to be younger than Jeremiah by a year or two. Far from any usual eye color, his mesmerizing orbs were black with a faint mixture of baby blue. His baby smooth skin, porcelain fair, contrasted greatly his dark outfit and hair. Under the soft beam of light, he shone gracefully like a fallen angel in a church. As a matter of fact, the boy was indescribably beautiful. The officers' hungry eyes shamefully scanned the lad from head to toes, memorizing every single detail of the rare beauty.
"Good day, officers. How may I help you here?" The voice spoken was sweet yet cold to the men's eardrums.
"He-hello. I am Jeremiah Covaled and nice to meet you." The younger officer stole the first presentation and pushed roughly past the giant man next to him to greet the stranger.
"Oh! A pleasure, officer Covaled." Black and blue eyes turned wearily from Jeremiah's brown eyes to meet Dave's gray eyes.
"I am Officer Dave Linber, at your service." He smirked proudly.
"Excellent! They call me Lawrence." That was it, nothing more was mentioned as a result of which they appeared to wait apprehensively for nothing.
"So are we waiting for the old priest to return?" Jeremiah questioned Lawrence in the hopes of getting him to speak once more, but only to receive a gentle nod.
The moment of silence was tense. No one moved even though the world around them continued moving on. However from time to time, Lawrence would cross his slender arms charmingly. His back leaned against the hard pillar. And occasionally draped his black locks behind his ears. It was a movement that caught Jeremiah's attention as he began to space out. Meanwhile, Dave was sprawled over the church's long seat for a rest; while Jeremiah seemed troubled by certain facts. Countless questions ran through his mind at that golden moment. If only he had gotten the courage to ask the quiet teen, he might have saved himself from curiosity.
The torturous quiet was brought to an end when giggles and children's yelling came within their hearing range. Automatically, the men straightened out of their original worn-out positions to compose professionally. Coolly, Lawrence walked towards the entrance to welcome the children and the priest with tender hugs. Sammos, still smiling happily, paced to the center of the nave and presented the policemen to the orphans, who admired them with sparkles in their eyes.
"Children, today we have two nice policemen here to talk to you." Sammos announced. The orphans cheered, clapped and jumped excitedly.
"Dave, is this how every first mission like? Giving conferences to kids?" Jeremiah laughed hysterically by himself behind Dave's huge back.
"Zip up your big mouth or I will phone your mother to sew it up, like a good teacher." The man whispered the treat in a low voice so the children wouldn't be traumatized.
"That was wonderful, the children are very happy to have your company. We truly appreciate it." The old priest thanked the officers after their brief discussion.
Not far from the trio, Lawrence was accompanying a little pony tailed girl on a swing, paying no special attention to any presence other than the orphans', which caused Jeremiah to sigh in disappointment. A thought struck his awareness, and he decided to pull out more information on the other man's background rather than on the disappearances. Working came last in the list of priorities.
"So, Lawrence works here?" He asked casually, getting the older two males' attention. Dave frowned in suspicion.
"Oh, you are talking to me? Ah, yes, yes. He volunteers to help and teach the children. At first, I wanted to pay him, but he refused, saying that the money should serve a better use. It was a generous act."
"Does he live here with the children and yourself?"
"Ah? Sadly, though we would love to have him staying with us, I believe he lives alone in the city. He comes over every afternoon by bus and leaves in the evening."
"Interesting life style he's leading." Jeremiah raised his brows in sign of amazement.
"As much as we'd like to know about other citizens' lifestyles, we, policemen, have our duty to attend to," Dave said in an understanding tone, though it was more directed at Jeremiah than the priest. He emphasized his last statement with slowness. "Don't you agree, Officer Covaled?"
"Yes, yes." Sammos agreed. "Look at the time. Tea time, tea time. Pardon me, but I insist on you, young men, joining us today." Sammos patted the men' shoulders and pushed them gently to the dining room.
The old wooden room was empty with a few giant paintings of the Lord hanging lifelessly on the bland beige wallpaper. In the center laid a long table in the midst of little chairs set around it. The senior excused himself and stepped out of the room to call in the children. The policemen stood at the place they were left at, not moving a single inch. Dave observed the quarters with curious eyes, whereas Jeremiah folded his arms and sank into depression. He had never enjoyed being in churches for he suffered horrible memories from when he was little in Sunday Class.
Tea time passed rather rapidly, consisting of a few simple dishes and garlic breads. The cheerful orphans brought their cookies with them and left the adults. The two strangers sat opposite the priest and the caretaker, separated by the wooden platform. Jeremiah spent most of his time peeking at the young man sitting before him during their meal and took the chance to stare directly at the lad when a certain serious discussion was brought up.
"I suppose you have heard about the disappearances that had been happening lately in this neighborhood." Sammos nodded. "We are wondering if you can give us a lead in our case. Have you seen anyone that could be considered as a suspect recently? It could be on the street, in the confession booth, anywhere." Jeremiah spoke with a confident attitude, resting his chin on the upper side of his hands.
"I am afraid not. The residents don't often come here, for they discriminate the children for being bastards and so on; such horrible thing to say, especially in front of them." Sammos sighed tiredly.
"I see, as for you Lawrence, we heard you travel here often from the city. Surely, you must have seen much more people than the pastor Sammos." Dave felt slightly neglected from the conversation and that hurt his pride.
"It is true that I see a further aspect of the world than the priest, but the truth is that I barely know the inhabitants here. Therefore, it would be impolite to judge them as guilty. Like the proverb says, never judge a book by its cover." The raven haired beauty reasoned calmly, crossing his legs during the process.
"Alright, guess we will have to solve this trouble ourselves." Jeremiah swung his hands behind his head.
"Sorry, I wish we know more." Sammos lowered his gaze and sighed.
"Don't be, please. Here is our department's phone number, and here is mine, in case you feel uncomfortable speaking to the force. You can always contact me, I would be glad to hear you out." Jeremiah pulled out a black ball pen that he always kept in his pocket and scribbled his cell number in the card.
"Thank you." Lawrence accepted the offer.
Jeremiah couldn't help but watch as the angel stood up and slid the card into his side pocket. He tensed when he felt the fiery stare he was receiving from his partner. He swallowed down his saliva and continued the interrogation. Everything was perfectly peaceful until deafening screams busted the bubble. The four immediately rushed outside to get hold of the situation.
A few crying children clung onto the priest and Lawrence as they reported the event with incomprehensible phrases. Jeremiah's quick glance shifted from the tiny crowd to an unidentified man on his motorcycle pulling a small screaming orphan boy. The presence of the two policemen surprised the kidnapper. He pressed violently on the accelerator and flew across the road bump. At that instant, Dave regretted leaving his car in the parking lot. Jeremiah, without a second thought, broke into a dashing chase at full speed after the bike. His inhuman stamina and speed allowed him to be at the tail of the two-wheeled vehicle in no time. Despite the fact that he was chasing the motorbike by foot, he drew out his gun and took an aim. Briefly getting hold of his target, Jeremiah pressed his finger on the trigger. It released a loud bang as the bullet cut through the wind. The ball dashed past the little victim's ear by a centimeter and pierced mercilessly the kidnapper's hand that got in its way.
At the sudden stab of pain, the injured motorcyclist screamed. He automatically released his grip off the handle. Losing balance as he crashed first onto the road, doubtlessly breaking a few ribs. Ignoring the possible unpleasant consequences, Jeremiah leaped forward to catch the falling child in time as if he was an American football player going for a touchdown.
"That was… fun." Jeremiah panted.
Dave, accompanied by Lawrence, arrived running to the scene. The whole Hollywood action movie scene stunned its spectators as it unfolded without safety measures before their very eyes. Dave quickly sat on the kidnapper's back and handcuffed him painfully while Lawrence kneeled beside Jeremiah, who was curling himself up with the fainted orphan in his protective arms. They both appeared to be uninjured, except for some minor scratches.
"That was really reckless of you," he murmured, making Jeremiah grin proudly.
In front of Rosen Helene Orphanage Institution, several police cars parked casually in the middle of the junction, blocking the little traffic. Dave and another policeman threw the kidnapper harshly to the back of the police car and slammed the door.
"Sorry for all the commotion." Jeremiah chuckled to himself as he ran his bandaged fingers through his messy chestnut hair.
"Oh please, Officer Covaled, if weren't for you, we wouldn't know what had happened to our little Pololo here. We are extremely grateful for what you did for us. Never will we forget your bravery. I shall tell this tale to the children now as a bed time story." The priest smiled, patting Pololo's shoulder gently.
"No, no, no. It was nothing much; I am a policeman, remember? I would sacrifice myself for the security of my fellow citizens if I had to," Jeremiah replied nervously. His face reddened by the second as his brain processed the pastor's compliment.
"Well, I guess we solved our missing men mystery now. Good work! Man, I tell you, you did some amazing shit out there just now. You can be a darn bad ass sometime." Dave gave Jeremiah a rough hit on the back of the head.
"Actually, I have a feeling things aren't supposed to be this easy to solve. Something doesn't ring right. Anyway, at least we've managed to put a criminal behind bars. That, I like." The brunet shrugged his shoulders, still distressed about the situation.
"Hey, I am being realistic," the younger groaned at the insult.
"Whatever. Let's get back so we can beat the crap out of this guy's eye sockets in the interrogation room. We earned the privilege by the boss. Sweet"
"Sadist Justice Man"
Just as Dave's furious punch was an inch away from Jeremiah's handsome face, Lawrence interrupted with a small forced cough.
"Yes?" The two asked sweetly.
The caretaker turned his face away from their apprehensive gazes to avoid any eye contact possible. "Well, I am not very good in expressing my thoughts in words. But I feel like I owe you this. Thank you."
"Wow, so cute. NO! I mean wow so…" The brunet's brain scanned quickly through his vocabulary section in search of a word that sounded close to 'so cute'. "Tokyo! I want to go to Tokyo one day," Jeremiah yelled loudly, as he had noticed a commercial on a Japan tour guide flyer.
"It is alright, it is our job anyway," said Dave stepping forward, getting the spotlight and copying Jeremiah's previous statement. "Excuse us, we must head back, my friend."
"Good bye, Mr. Police! Visit us again soon!" The children in the orphanage climbed onto the gate and began cheering as the police vehicles passed, one after another, by the gateway.
It was a beautiful scene that reminded Jeremiah of his childhood animated movies where the animals started singing farewell songs at the hero's departure. He wanted to wind down his window and return the parting, but he had a reputation to uphold since the kidnapper was presently sitting furiously behind the window glass. Jeremiah behaved.
That evening, after the rough interrogation, Jeremiah returned with two cups of cappuccino and offered one to Dave, who appeared to be exhausted after all the beatings. Things hadn't gone as well as they anticipated because the kidnapper wasn't cooperating. He claimed he knew nothing about the other disappearances.
"Thirty punches." Dave stared smugly at his accomplishment. "My fists are going to be sore tomorrow."
Dave casually swept his bloody knuckles on his uniform and drank his hot drink in one gulp. Sighing, Jeremiah shoved the criminal's documents and records on the older officer's face and left the department. In the car park, under the soft neon light, his brand new jeep stood solitary firm among the other cars. Wearingly, Jeremiah plopped on his seat and rested his forehead on the steering wheel. Turning to his right, he unconsciously patted the passenger's seat with a wide beam on his face. Jeremiah simply couldn't get a certain pretty black hair caretaker out of his mind. The brunet was completely unaware of the complexity of fate awaiting him in the shadow.
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