Water Seven's Siren

Our story begins nearly twenty years ago, in a small tavern in the slums of Water Seven. A haven for pirates and smugglers, it was known for bad beer that no one drank and service that compared to that of ghost town. However, the lack of marine presence and the shady deals that transpired there kept the bar busier than most. The tavern was owned by an elderly man, he was short and balding, and he spent his days boozing with the customers and groping the waitresses while his wife handled the business end of the bar. She was a homely woman, large and intimidating, and the main reason for the black market trade that kept the place running. For years it went on like this, until one day a young and beautiful girl ended up on the doorstep. She was not much older than seventeen at the time, with golden blonde hair that flowed down past her breasts and a smile that could warm even the coldest heart. The owner was smitten at first sight, as were most that laid eyes on her voluptuous body and gorgeous face, her porcelain skin catching the light wherever she walked. Her beauty was enough to sway even the man’s hardened wife into allowing her to have a job, as she had nowhere to go and no family to speak of, having just arrived by boat from the far off island of Baltigo. The girl was desperate for a home and a sense of belonging.

Within weeks she had made a name for herself, she was called the beauty of Water Seven. Known for her wonderful looks and beautiful smile, and a bubbly personality that attracted all those who crossed her path. The small tavern became known for something more than a front for the black market, sailors and pirates from all over came to see for themselves if the rumors were true, that a beautiful siren really waited tables at this dump of a bar. And there they’d find her, serenading the customers with a voice that was as beautiful as her looks as her perfect hips swayed about, serving the same crappy beer they had always had. But now, no one seemed to mind as they ordered as much as they could, doing anything to have the beauty of Water Seven stop by their table if even for a moment.

Then one day, after a few months of working at the tavern, a particular man walked through the doors. With fiery red hair and the presence of a king, the man was tall and handsome with a chiseled jaw line and eyes that could woo any woman. It was love at first sight for young girl, having fallen head over heels when she saw him, literally, as the moment their eyes locked, her heel caught one of floorboards and sent her tumbling to the dirty bar floor. The skunk beer splashing all over the man. Those who were around all bit their tongues and a hush fell over the bar, fearing that this may be the last of the beautiful siren. Until the man bent down and grabbed her hand, his charming smile and intense eyes pierced into the woman’s soul. He helped her to her feet and paid for all the beer that had been spilled, even going so far as to buy a round for everyone in the bar. And at this point, the tables had turned as now it was the beauty of water seven was smitten. For the first time in her life, she was the one who couldn’t take her eyes off of someone. With a charismatic smile the man had asked for her name, to which she nervously replied, Betty Black, her eyes stared back, wide eyed and innocent as she waited for his response. He pulled her closely and gently leaned in, his soft lips next to her ear as he whispered seductively to her.

You can call me Bizar

Love Lost

A few months had passed since the two had met, Betty spent all her time with the man. Forgoing her tavern work to spend every waking moment with Bizar, dedicating her entire being to pleasing only him. Though they shared a bed every night, very little sleeping took place. Bizar’s charm and rugged good looks swaying the girl to his every whimsical desire, the word no ceased to exist to her. Though in return she was lavished with a seemingly endless amount of gold. To her, she had finally found the place that she belonged, at the this man’s side. There were days where Bizar would disappear, setting sail on his massive ship to plunder surrounding areas, but he always seemed to return to the siren of Water Seven, ravaging her just as he had the seas. Though, the girl was unaware that her seemingly perfect life was all a façade, as she was just one if the many beauties that this pirate had laid in his lifetime. Every time he traveled out to sea, he would bed any beautiful woman he crossed, using his charming smile and powerful presence to woo them. And just as quickly as he came into her life, Bizar would leave in the same fashion, ending this fairytale once and for all.

It was a hot day, the sun was beating down on the crowded streets of Water Seven as the young golden haired girl strolled down the street. She hummed to herself and gave a smile to all those she saw, her beautiful blue eyes gleaming in the sun. The siren came upon a small food market and stopped, ‘’Hiya!” she exclaimed, “Wonderful day we are having, aren’t we?” she mentioned with a smile to the old woman who sat behind the stand.

“bah.’’ The woman scoffed, ‘’Its to hot for me, now are you gonna buy something or what?” the granny snapped back. With a smile, Betty pointed out two large fish and a cut of beef, along with some scallops and greens, paying in gold coins instead of beli. Much to the surprise of the little old woman, ‘’Oho! Cooking for a special occasion?!” she asked grinning, her demeanor having changed at the sight of the gold.

“Something like that.” Betty responded with a wink, grabbing the brown paper bag full of food and moving along. She began to hum to herself once again and walked back to the house on the coast that Bizar had provided for her. It was a beautiful little cottage, big enough to house a family. “B will love this.” She said to herself, blushing as she walked through the threshold of their cozy little home. She made her way to the kitchen and unpacked the ingredients she had bought. Filleting the fish and dicing up the beef, both would be thrown onto the grill, sizzling as the raw meat made contact with the hot iron. Her voice would echo through the home as she cooked the meal for her lover, as the birds chirped on the window sill like a background chorus. She set the table, twirling about the room as she laid down the silverware and plates, to say she was excited for the dinner was an understatement. About an hour had passed and the dinner was ready, Betty plated the food and waited for Bizar to arrive. First minutes, then hours passed, no sign of the man had been seen until long after the sun went down. Then, the door opened and in strolled the man, drunk and half cocked he was loud enough to wake the girl who had fallen asleep at the table. By now the food was cold and all her effort had gone to waste, however, this didn’t bother her in the least bit. “Oh thank god!” she would yell, running up and embracing Bizar, “I was worried something had happened!” Her eyes were full of tears as she spoke, rubbing her face into the mans hardened, tanned body. “Come, sit, I have wonderful news!” She said, leading the man to the seat she had set for him at the table. “Sorry about the food, its cold now…” Her eyes looked down in sadness for a moment, “but never mind that!” All the while, Bizar said not a word, just staring blankly at the cold meal that was set in front of him. “honey..” she said, grabbing the mans callused hands, “I’m pregnant! We can finally start a family!” Betty yelled, tears of joy running down her cheeks and a smile as wide as the ocean brandished on her face. Though, Bizar gave no reaction, he simply snatched his hands away and stood up slowly, making his way across the room. “Bizar…?” She mumbled as she followed the man into the next room, only to witness him grab a large knapsack from the corner and throw it over his shoulder. He turned to the siren and look her in the eyes, “What’s… what is this about….?”

“I’m leaving.” Was his only response, cold and emotionless he stepped past the woman he had loved so tenderly for months and exited the beautiful little cottage on the coast, disappearing into the night.

Sins of the Parent fall to the Child

Months had gone by since Bizar’s abrupt disappearance, Betty had begun to work at the bar again, but no longer was she the beauty of Water Seven. The pregnancy had begun to take its toll, her once voluptuous figure had rounded out and her beautiful golden locks were left unkempt and ratty. She had taken up smoking and drinking to deal with her immense depression, causing her porcelain skin to yellow and wrinkle. Men no longer looked at her with awe, only disdain if they even glanced in her direction at all. Her voice dulled and the sparkling eyes were hidden behind heavy lids. The tavern and his wife accepted the woman back into service when she once again crawled onto their doorstep, only this time she wasn’t the young beautiful maiden that had brightened up their dreary little tavern. Now, Betty was a miserable and fat, caring very little for anything or anyone, she no longer received the tips she once did. Forcing her to resort to more, unflattering methods of obtaining money, spending just as much time out back the bar with the patrons as she did inside of it.

Day after day, Betty continued her downward spiral into depression. By her seventh month she was willing to do whatever with whomever as long as it earned even the slightest bit of beli. Long gone was the happy life with the man of her dreams, nestled in the beautiful little cottage on the cost. Now, she struggled to feed herself, let alone keep a roof over her head. Though, with how large she was due to her pregnancy one would think she did nothing but stuff herself with food instead of any man willing to pay. The siren’s voice had been replaced by a raspy, miserable tone, the birds no longer sung with her and she hadn’t smiled in what seemed like a century.

By her ninth month, she could barely move, unable to serve tables at the bar she stayed at home in her dump of a shack nestled in the slums. Men came to her at all hours of the day, she’d simply turn over and let them have at her, finishing up by tossing a few coins in her dresser and being on their way. In fact, her water broke while a man was going to town, causing him to flee in a panic. Leaving her all alone to birth her child in the dank and dirty home. She wrapped the child up in sheets after cutting her own cord and made him a make shift crib out of her dresser drawer. The babes eyes were blue like hers and his skin was fair like hers once had been, but the thing that stuck out the most was the small tuft of red hair he had been born with. A few hours after the birth a knock had come to her door, once again a man had visited her and once again she allowed him to have his way with her body. While she was in the other room the baby laid by himself, wailing and crying of hunger. His mother instead allowing a stranger to suckle at her teets instead of her newborn. She simply yelled to the child, telling the child to shut up while she worked like the day old baby would understand.
As time passed, the woman’s looks degraded even more, no longer resembling the beautiful young girl she once was and she blamed the child for it all. Her looks and her lovers disappearance, to her the child was the cause of it all and as such, she treated him horribly from day one. Convincing herself that the child owed her, as she provided the roof over their head and what little food they had by selling her now disgusting body to any suitor. The two room shack they lived in did little shield the child from his mothers heinous actions, he was to stay in the bathroom until her customers left and if he dared show his face, he was beaten with whatever was at hand. Broken glass littered the floor from the times she had thrown her empty booze bottles at the child for expressing his desire to eat or be loved.

By four years old, the child was little more than a twig, small and malnourished. His cheeks were gaunt and his eyes sunken in, with long scraggly red hair that was left uncut and unkempt. He’d spend his days on the streets begging for food and money that he was to give to his mother after she had finished off her customers for the day. With her whoring and the Childs begging, Betty was able to dress in better clothing, which allowed her to attract more customers and in turn, make herself feel just abit like the beauty she once was. She kept the child skinny and underfed on purpose, not only did she still blame him for her troubles, but in her own words, children make better beggars and a starving child makes an even better one.

A New Beginning

One cold morning as the young red headed child sat outside in the snow, clothed in little more than rags while his mother attended to a customer. A man happened to walk by, he was tall and slender with a large scar running diagonal across his face. As he passed the man’s eyes locked with the Childs and he stopped, dropping a gold coin into the boy’s hands and with a smile he walked off without a word. Staring at the coin, the boy turned quickly and ran into the home, with a sharp toothy grin from ear to ear brandished on his face he called for his mother. Who responded by screaming profanity at the child, scolding him to never enter into her home without knocking first. However, her attitude quickly changed when she saw the golden coin, quickly swiping it out of the boys hands and shoving him back out the door into the snow without so much as a good job. Face planting into the snow, tears ran down the boys face as he curled up into a ball for warmth. From the darkness of a nearby alley the man who had dropped the coin looked onwards, a devilish smile crept onto his face. He had found his next target.

Recently in the slums of Water Seven, a killer had prowled the streets, known for his slaughter of prostitutes in the area. His m.o. was unique by nature, with almost surgical precision he would disembowel his victims and take their organs for unknown purposes. Leaving the empty flesh sacks at the scene, posed in risqué ways. Though every able bodied marine and law enforcement officer had been searching, no clues had been found and no ID had been made. Leaving the law with no suspects in what would become later known as the most gruesome series of incidents in Water Seven history. Though crimes were common in the slums, it was the severity and volume coupled with the seemingly surgical nature of the killings that made these stick out specifically. As of now, five women had been murdered and gutted, collectively known as the Water Seven Murders.

Two days after the boy had received the gold coin he was begging in the main street of the slum market, once again in the snow with little more than rags for warmth. Leaving his mother home alone, she had sold her body enough to keep herself warm and cozy, not needing to work for the rest of the week. This made her happy, she enjoyed nothing more than laying about relishing in her ‘wealth’. It was at this time a knock came to her door…

Betty yelled from her chair, to lazy to move. “Legs are closed today hun! Come back next week for some fun!” She giggled at her rhyme as she counted the beli she made. Once again the knock came at the door, this time louder. “Go away! I’m busy!” her voice grew annoyed as she yelled louder. This time it sounded like the door would cave in due to the force behind the knocks. With a heavy sigh she got up from the chair she was in and stomped towards the door. She swung it open and yelled, “I SAID GO THE FUCK AWA-…!” Before she could finish a large hand with a rag palmed her mouth and shoved her into the home, unseen by anyone. Before her was a tall slender man with a diagonal scar across his face and a leather apron strapped to his body. His eyes were devoid of emotion yet his smile expressed nothing but joy, he had the look of a true crazed killer. Betty felt herself losing conscious and was unable to yell as she hit the floor like a ton of bricks. A few minutes later she came too, finding herself naked and strapped to her bed, her ankles and wrists tied to the bed posts. Above her was the man, his medium length brown hair tied into a bun and a pair of small glasses on the edge of his nose. In his hand was a scalpel, looking down she would notice black dotted lines marked out on her stomach and chest, almost like a guide for him to cut. She tried to struggle, but it was all in vain, her mouth was gagged and the ropes were tied tight enough to cut off circulation.

“Yes…. Struggle all you like, makes it more fun for me~’’ The man mused, whistling at the end of his sentence as he blade the cold blade at the top of his line. He’d slowly pierce the woman’s skin, causing her to squirm more and more as the blade was dragged down the center of her body, opening up her insides for all to see. The killer than took a tool out of his back, placing inside the wound he would turn a lever and it cranked open the woman’s chest cavity, opening up her body so the organs were more accessible. At this time, her struggling slowly ceased as the life drained from the once beautiful siren. One by one, the killer scooped out her organs, first the lungs, then the liver and kidneys, and finally her heart.

The boy, having made his daily quota set by his mother returned home from begging and entered the small slum shack. Inside he saw a man, the one who had given him the golden coin previously, sitting at the dinner table with a spread of food placed out in front of him. Standing up he walked over to the boy and guided him over to the other chair, sitting him down and placing a plate of meat in front of him. Eyes wide and full of hunger the boy looked at the man, who encouraged him to eat and without a second thought he dug into the food as if he hadn’t eaten a decent meal in his life. The man smiled and patted the boy on his head, taking his seat across from him and ate as well. The meat was like nothing the boy had ever tasted, though he had never eaten meat before in his life, this was better than anything he ever had. “This…* munch* is so good!” he’s say with tears I his eyes, grateful for the meal that was placed in front of him.

“Yayayayaya! I’m glad you like it! I just cut it this morning.” The man laughed, his tone was comforting and kind, something the boy had never experienced before. After quickly clearing his plate, th man offered him seconds, to which the child quickly took and began eating. Suddenly he’d look around in confusion.

“where is mother…?” he mumbled, his mouth full of food, realizing his witch of a mother was not around.

“She’s gone away, from now on I’m going to be the one taking care of you.” He said with a smile.
“Oh, well you seem a lot nicer, mister!” The boy said happily, having received virtually no motherly affection from the now deceased woman. The man smiled and walked over to the boy, leaning down on one knee and placing his hand on the child’s shoulders.

“My names Ripper J. Styx, but you can call me Rip.” He said with a fatherly tone and almost a hint of love detected in his voice. As if he had finally found the son he never had. The child looked ul from his plate of food, chunks of meat and sauce all over his face.

“My names Bazil”

It had been about a year since the young Bazil was taken by Ripper and for his birthday, the man gave Bazil a blade. In that time, the pair had made their way across Water Seven, with Rip leaving a trail of corpses in their wake. He had taught the boy how to wield the knife and where to cut, which places would kill and others that would simple maim while leaving the victim alive. To Bazil, it was the father he never had, by day a respectable doctor with more skills than most, but by night he was a bloodthirsty monster who callously took the lives of anyone he pleased. Raising the boy in a similar fashion, treating him with a kindness that Bazil had never known before.

One day, Bazil had a run in with some other children in the area, they beat him and took his stuffed dog that Rip had given him early on in their relationship. The boy wailed in anger, his face was as red as his hair and eyes were bloodshot, as the other children laughed and pointed at the boy. They called him tomato head and red pepper face, the jeers and names were to much for the young Bazil. Rip, having heard the boy’s screams came running, but when he arrived all the other children were on their knees and unconscious as Bazil stood over them with a blank look on his face. A devilish grin erupted into the killer’s face, realizing he had found a diamond in the rough, knowing full well that the young boy had the disposition of a conqueror. Calmly, Ripper approached the children one by one, his scalpel slitting their throats, it was over in seconds and the children’s corpses littered the ground. Then, after prying the dog out of the dead child’s small hands he gave the blood covered corgi to Bazil and kneeled down to the boys level.

Those that take from you, must pay. You are a special, Brazil and you will be a king. Next time, you will be the one to take care of it Rip said, his voice stern and commanding, yet soft and understanding. Like that of a father teaching his son a life lesson.

Three years after that incident, Bazil had taken the lessons to heart and was no longer the meek little beggar boy that Rip had found. He was eight years old and had the personality of an uncaged rabid animal. The boy took what he want from whomever he pleased, making those he got in his way pay dearly.

” Hey you bitch” The red headed boy barked, “Gimme an apple” Bazil demanded, pointing to the basket of bright red apples on the table. The young girl working the stands couldn’t believe her ears, she was not much older than the boy and would never speak like that, she was so shocked she just stood there staring in disbelief. “Yo, you dumb cunt, give. Me. A. Fucking. Apple.” He said again, this time pausing after every word like he was talking to a baby.

“You shouldn’t talk like that! Its rude!” the girl yelled, scolding the boy. Though, the young Bazil did not take kindly to this. He reached into his belt and pulled out the knife he had been given for his birthday. The girl’s eyes widened and she pointed up her finger and put it into the boys face, “little boys like you shouldn’t carry knives! Its dangero-…..AAHHHH EEEKK!!!” Her sentence cut off like her fingers, the boy had swiped his blade across the woman’s hand, taking off three of her fingers. Blood spurted out as the woman held her hand with pressure to prevent the bleeding. Her fingers fell to the ground and Bazil laughed maniacally at the woman’s pain, then he used his blood covered knife to stab an apple. Taking a big bite out of it, juice squirted out and boy watched as the woman struggled in pain, casually eating the apple he had taken. Hearing the screams, Rip had come running from behind the boy.

“BAZIL!” He yelled as he rushed over and held the woman, moving her to the ground behind her stall, “Don’t worry ma’am, I’m a doctor let me look at it.” Rip said, quieting the woman down by assuring her he would help. But before she could get another word out, the doctors scalpel slide across her throat, opening up her jugular vein and throat. Rip’s eyes then darted to Bazil who was still munching on the apple, “How many times have I told you, never kill out in the open, there could be wit-…” he started saying before realizing there was a small child hiding underneath the stall, staring at the doctor who had just killed his older sister. Rip’s face was callous once more as he dragged out the child by his throat, preventing him from screaming. “We have three rules Brazil and I have tired and tried to hammer them into your head, we don’t tell people our names, we don’t kill in public, and we never leave witnesses..” Ripper said in his stern father tone, “Clean this up, its your mess.” He mumbled holding the child down to prevent him from running or making to much noise. Bazil bit into the apple and held it with his sharp teeth as he pulled the blade out from the fruit. Then, he slowly moved closer to the child, who looked to be maybe three or four years younger than himself. “Do it.” Rip whispered into his ear as Bazil held the blade in his hand, hovering over the boy. And without a second thought, the boy who would become known as the Red Devil proceeded to stab the other child repeatedly in his stomach in chest, leaving to many wounds to count. After he was done, he took the apple out of his mouth with his blood covered hands and looked to his ‘father’ for approval. “That’s my boy..” Rip said proudly, tussling the boys fiery red hair with his hand.

Water Seven PD's Finest Hour

Eleven, that was the age that everything would change for Bazil, he was a monster of his ‘fathers’ own design, one that would come back to bite him in the ass with his actions. It was a snowy winters day on Water Seven, the Marine presence had increased to due to the number of murders that had taken place, the local police unable to find anything about the culprit behind them. Unlike Bazil, Rip was good at hiding and he was good at not getting caught, having literally gotten away with murder for close to twenty years. Realizing that he wouldn’t be around forever he wanted to keep his legacy going and that is why he tried to instill the same values in his adopted son. However, the boy cared little for discretion and it seemed like he almost wanted people to know of his deeds, to be recognized, to be remembered.

The incident occurred in the town square of the slums, right outside the dingy little tavern the boy’s mother had worked at all those years ago. A group of three marines were questioning the locals in regards to the string of murders that stretched back farther than Bazil had been alive. One of the men noticed the red headed boy staring at them from afar and wandered over to greet him, telling his partners he would be right back.

”Hey there kid, how’s it going?” The marine asked with a smile, kneeling down to get on the boys level. “Me and my pals over there were wondering if you have seen anything odd or suspicious recently. We are looking for a very bad person.” His eyes were full of kindness and legitimately wanted to help. However, he picked the wrong child to speak to, realizing all too late that getting on this boys level was like locking eyes with the devil himself. The young Bazil smiled his razor sharp, toothy grin, and in seconds he pulled the knife from his sleeve and cut he man’s throat, the marine would fall to the white snow, painting it red as he clutched his bleeding neck. Bazil’s malicious laughter echoed the mans gurgled cries for help as the life slowly drained from him, the other two marines turned and noticed the boy, knife in hand, standing over their dying friend and rushed to his aid. Bazil flipped them off and ran into an alley way, he knew the slums like the back of his hand, something marines did not.

“You get help! I’ll chase after the little bastard!” The taller marine said, pushing past the bystanders and dipping into the alley way that the little red head had gone down seconds prior. At the end of the alley way was a split, footprints in the snow went either direction making it hard to figure out which way, however, the path to the right had drops of blood in the snow. Taking the path to the right, the marine was sure of himself, he gripped his sword tightly and ran as fast as he could. As he rounded the corner of another alley, he saw the boy standing at a dead end, “Yer trapped now you little fuck, I’m gonna enjoy killing you.” The marine said, rushing at the child who had a look of fright in his eyes. However, it was a trap, carefully laid by the boy, a wire was placed at ankle level for the man and he tripped and fell into the snow, his face slammed into a rock that had been covered by the snow and caused him to black out for a moment. As he came to, he noticed the boy over top of him, knife in hand and held against his throat. Without a second thought, the little eleven year old boy slashed the marines throat, painting more snow a blood red. Bazil then stood up and pulled out his boyhood junk and began pissing into the snow, writing his name in yellow next to the dead marine. After he was, he zipped up his pants and left the alley way, heading back to his adoptive fathers clinic, quite proud of himself.

Not long after the boy left the scene, marines and local police locked down the alley way, beginning their investigation into who the boy was. Two men in trench coats, the characters ‘justice’ on the back, approached the marines body and saw the message in the snow. It read, ‘Bazil Fuckin Styx’ with a smile face next to it for good measure. The first man in the trench coat plucked a cigarette from his pocket and lit it up, “Either this kid’s sending us on a wild goose chase…or he’s just an idiot.” The investigator grumbled, taking another puff from his cigarette before turning to his partner. “This doesn’t match the other murders MO, so what do you think?”

“It’s probably unrelated, the Water Seven murders are much more though tout and precise, this was a brazen, spur of the moment kill, almost like an animal.” The second investigator said, agreeing with his partner. “We need to find out more about this name, ‘Bazil Styx’… one of the locals ought to know something.” He grumbled, making his way back to the crowded town square. The two began their investigation much like the marines had earlier, talking to locals and gathering as much as they could. Though very little was known about this boy, no one had seen him with an adult before, some said he vaguely resembled a beggar child that was around years ago. But no one could give a positive id on the young Bazil, until the investigators threw out his last name to a young woman. “Does the name Styx mean anything to you?”

“Styx?” The girl said, rubbing her hand on her chin, “Like Dr. Styx?”
“Dr. Styx?” The investigators repeated.

“Yea, he’s a very nice man, he lives out on the coast by himself, not exactly sure where but he travels from town to town helping people!” She said in a very bubbly tone, “Just last year he helped my grandma…” Her words trailed off, “Though… that was before the Ripper got to her…”

“You mean she was one of the victims..?” He asked.

“Yeah… she was the first victim that wasn’t a prostitute, it was just a few weeks after Dr. Styx came to her home and healed her… it was sad, I know the good doctor did everything he could to help her…” She responded sadly, “Now.. if you don’t mind, I’d like to go now..”

“Yes… yes that’s fine, thank you..” The man said, pulling out another cigarette and lighting it up, “You know… a medical background would explain the precision in the cuts found on the victims…”

“And how the organs were so carefully removed…” The other investigator added, both of them looking at each other as if lightbulbs had just gone off in their heads. They turned and ran back to their headquarters, gathering up men and weapons in an attempt to find the house on the coast that Dr. Styx lived in. They assembled a small army and canvassed the coastline until they spotted a small, run down cottage, big enough for a small family. Little did the law, or Bazil know, this home once belonged to a man that would go on to become the greatest pirate that ever lived, but that’s a story for another time.

“Give it up!” The police yelled to the man in the cottage, “We know you are in their Dr. Styx and we know you’re the one responsible for more than one hundred unsolved murders all over the country!”

“Shit! How the fuck did they find me?! How did they figure it out, I was so careful and planned for everything..” The god doctor ran about his home in a frenzy, haphazardly attempting to gather up anything that would implicate him and tossed it into the fire pit. Then, suddenly he stopped, his eyes drifted to the ceiling and a blank expression ran over his face, “Bazil….” He mumbled, tears beginning to run down his cheeks, realizing his beloved son’s murderous impulses and lack of discretion had to be the cause of this. He collapsed to his knees and wailed out in a mixture of crying and laughter, all hope for him was lost, the law was knocking at his door, but one thought kept him going as he stood up and placed his leather apron on and gripped a knife in each hand. The thought that his legacy would live on, in the form of the child he had raised to be more of a monster than he ever was. He knew that Bazil was the closest thing to the devil that he had ever laid eyes on and that is why he loved the boy more than life itself. He walked to the window and peered out, he counted atleast thirty men surrounding the small coastal cottage, their weapons pointed at the home and their faces full of anger.

“Times up! Prepare to die Dr. Styx!” The marine yelled, signaling his men and the police to open fire on the home, in seconds the cottage was riddled with bullet holes. Watching from the tree line with tears in his eyes was the young Bazil, realizing that his father was as good as dead, the boy wanted to help, but for the first time in a long time, he was frozen with fear. “Confirm the body..” The man with the megaphone said to the three men next to him, each one entering the darkness of the home, one by one disappearing into the doorway. Seconds that felt like hours went by, until a song of blood curdling screams echoed from out of the home, the voices belonging to the men who had just entered. Gripped by fear, the men outside watched as a bloodied figure emerged from the home, smiling like the devil, he ran at the men who were reloading their guns, Ripper managed to cut down four more men before he was apprehended and pinned to the ground. As they held him, the marines and police looked down smugly, realizing theyd all be in line for promotions after catching the Water Seven Murderer.

“DON’T LOOK BACK! RUN AND LIVE! YOU ARE A KING AND NO ONE CAN KILL YOU!” Ripper shouted before the marines shut him up by delivering a few swift kicks to the man’s abdomen.
 
“Tch. You aint going nowhere, piece of shit!” A marine said, kicking Rip once more, though Bazil knew he was talking to him directly, the boy wiped the tears from his eyes and ran, never looking back. Ripper smiled as he felt the boy’s presence disappear out of his haki range and smiled to himself, wishing the boy luck on his journey.

The end...for now

Its been three years since Bazil was forced to be on his own, living every day on the run. The marine he had murdered was the son of the Highest Ranking Official on Water Seven and ordered the man to never give up on finding the boy that was raised by Water Seven’s most vile criminal. Though, they had very little luck until one day they came across a lead. A young red haired boy had been getting into trouble and was hiding out in an abandoned building alongside other residents of the slums. Even with a lead as small as this one, the marines came out in full force and under the cover of night, they torched the building. All for the sake of killing one fourteen year old boy. The body count was estimated to be around fifty dead, though, all of them were residents of the slums and were cared for by very few outside of their own families, which most likely perished along with them. In an act of absolute justice, the marines slaughter dozens of innocent lives, except for the one they were aiming for. The young boy Bazil had escaped and the marines placed the blame of the incident squarely at the boy’s feet. Claiming that in an act of sociopathic anger, he killed them all just like he had done so many others up until this point. They also released the news of the boy’s adoptive father, so everyone would know that he was the son of the most gruesome killer in Water Seven history. Though, his true parentage would be lost, as the only ones who knew that the boy’s father was actually Raudi, had all either died or left the country.

After the incident, Bazil fled to Sandy Island on a merchant ship by stowing away in the hull until he was found by the captain. Who took a liking to the boys mischievous side, he did his best to keep the young Bazil under control and teach him right from wrong in the few short months they were together. In some ways he was successful, he slightly tempered the murderous edge the boy had and taught him the importance of delicacies. Though, these lessons didn’t stick with the boy, quickly reverting to his true nature after landing in the desert country.

At the time, no one could have predicted that a small fourteen year old boy would one day be the downfall of this country and its royal family. But that my friends, is a story for another time.