Chapter Text
Prologue
/ parity / ~ the equality of being equal or equivalent to something.
When the city was asleep, you could barely tell that there was anything out of the ordinary at play. Life seemed almost normal. Note: almost.
It all started with a gunshot that could be heard across a good radius of the city. A warning shot that set the ball rolling. The game-makers smile.
CHAPTER 1 | Dream
People are such fickle things.
A man could heartlessly bring down an entire family of living breathing individuals, alive and animated, just like himself in cold blood and still turn to call himself the victim of the crime.
The blood that seeped into the expensive-looking, gold-threaded, probably-imported-from-china rug under his feet was red, naturally, like that that had once flown in the bodies of the six children, three women and two fully grown men that this man had killed.
No, dream had felt no remorse as he’d watched the man shoot himself in the jugular. Straight to the brain, an instant, painless death, unlike that of the people he’d killed.
Dream felt a presence side up beside him. He turned his head slightly to find his partner in crime -- or more fittingly, in justice -- in his peripheral but his gaze was still locked on at the splayed-out body of the dead man at his feet.
“Gruesome.” George commented, bemused. “but he’s our guy alright; tall build, dark hair, pale and with enough bags under his eyes for tea for two. Victor BiDong Su.”
Dream nodded dutifully, like he hadn’t already figured that out. “You’ve called the cops?”
“Their on their way” George confirmed, cutting him off. They both stared at the body for a long moment as though it wasn’t as morbid as it truly was. “I still don’t get it,” George started, a few moments into their silence. Dream finally ripped his eyes away from the body and turned to face him. At any other time, he would have jested at the other man’s height but now was decidedly, not the time. He raised as eyebrow slightly, a coax for his partner to continue. “Why did he do it?”
Why did this man murder all those innocent people?
Dream could truthfully admit that he had no idea why and have George tease him on how for once in his lifetime, the great sleuth, Dream didn’t have an answer to something but here’s the ting: he didn’t have an answer. But he had a lead to one, lying heavy in his jacket pocket. The dying man had forced into Dream’s hand moments before he cowardly ended his life.
Instead of answering head on, he looked up and around the room and said, “Why do you think?”
“Money?” was George’s first attempt after a momentary pause. Fairly enough, in their field of work, they’d come to see firsthand the monsters people could become in the name of money. Closely followed by vengeance.
When Dream didn’t say anything. George sighed exasperatedly and followed his gaze around the room.
Dream could practically see the little light bulb go ding! In George’s head the moment he realized something Dream had only noticed mere seconds ago.
“No” George corrected, “ Exotic rugs and tailored suits do not equate to poverty or indebtedness…in fact, this room alone makes him look like a millionaire.”
Dream hummed, “He was. Almost a billionaire in fact.”
“Wait, but this might not even be his home, he might have broken in.” George pointed out, gears spinning frantically as he tried to keep up with Dream’s thoughts. The other man’s grin turned almost maniacal.
“Photos, George. Every home has family photos”
And George only just noticed the photo frames seated only a few feet away on the small coffee table close to the body. Then, he frowned, “But there are only two people in them. Our man, Vic and…” his eyes widen.
Dream smiled brightly, “Exactly.”
***
“Seems like this case runs deeper than we thought.” George said, when they had hurriedly found a taxi to drive them back to their shared apartment.
There was some information about the case they had left behind, believing the events of the passing afternoon to be the end of this case. Not that they didn’t already know what the case file said. They had practically memorized it in the week leading to today, but, they needed absolute confirmation.
“No shit.” Dream said distractedly, he tried piecing together the entire story in his head. but there were still some pieces missing, too many pieces. His grin never left his face, seems like he’s finally gotten a case worthy of his detectiving level to sleuth.
Finally, out loud, he started. “ Victor had a daughter. The only mention of her was in that text where he asked how she was doing at school. So, we assumed she was at some boarding school somewhere. But we just found one problem with that.”
“She’s too young…” George pieced.
“Precisely. From a fairly recent photo I gather that she must be at most four years old. Hardly the age to send your daughter across seas. At least, an eight year old can manage.”
“Why the hell was that not in the police report? Could have saved us so much bloody time!” George whisper-yelled. The taxi driver only side-glanced ta them and shrugged.
“Irrelevant. The cops probably vetoed it as irrelevant.” Dream drawled. George has worked with him long enough to understand the other man’s mannerisms and know for a fact that Dream was hiding a shadow of doubt, “Or,” he added a tad bit darkly, “something else is at play that the cops didn’t want us to know. Or perhaps they didn’t know about themselves.”
The atmosphere turned chilly at an impossible rate. The taxi slowly parked relatively close to their apartment and they sorted out the driver.
It was when they were inside their apartment that Dream spoke up again. “It’s just like the Fischer’s case-”
“No”
“-We’d been chasing a dead man-”
“Dream, stop.”
“-that had somehow come back to life.”
“The cops said-”
“-The cops said he had an unknown twin brother that looked just like him, sounded just like him and apparently also had a grudge on Lionel Fischer’s wife that drove him to murder her? That’s bullshit that only belongs in b-movies and you know it!”
“You know he didn’t fake his death, you proved that yourself and there was no way in hell he actually came to life, Dream! That ‘bullshit’ belongs in fairy tales and you’re smarter than that.” George quipped with a yell.
“There was no other explanation, George!”
“Well, there is one now! For this case, A lot of them actually!” George said when he’d gathered the papers they’d come back to retriev and unceremoniously sent them flying in Dream’s face.George glared as Dream calmed himself down enough to read it.
It was a screenshot of a text conversation between Mr Su and his “daughter”.
You
How’s school?
bby <3
School is okay
Could be better
You
Alright. Be good
It’ll be over soon
bby <3
lol depends.
You need to hurry, dad
You
…
be careful ok
don’t hurt yourself
I
I love you, sweetie
“She’s four.” George commented. “I mean, they’re rich and all but obviously, Someone else is playing the “daughter”. someone with poor acting skills-”
“I know why he did it…!” Dream buts in abruptly, temper seemingly sated. “This, my dear Gogy is a a hostage situation.”
George frowned.
Dream snickered, “stop worrying your pretty little head about it. I finally see what’s going on.”
After a pause for dramatic effect, Dream started with a smile, “Some dicks kidnap his daughter and charge him to murder that family if he wants her back. This chat is his way of checking in on her and receiving orders. ‘how’s school?’ he’s actually asking about her. The nappers say she’s okay but ‘could be better’” he pointed at the section, “meaning, she’s probably in some predicament or perhaps simply not fine health-wise. Next, he telling them that he’ll do what they say, he’ll ‘be good’ that ‘it’ll be over soon’, I-E: the Murdering. The ‘L-O-L depends’ was a mistake on their part. Now I gather that the kidnapper or kidnappers are possibly younger than Vic himself, somewhere in their 20s or possibly below. ‘be careful ok, don’t hurt yourself’ is his last plea to them and ‘I love you, sweetie’ is him saying goodbye because he finally broke.”
George was staring at Dream in bewilderment. In his head, he decided that if this was the entire case Dream had just dictated to him, he’d be buying him coffee every morning from the next day on because it actually makes sense?
Dream finally breathed out. The only reason he knew where to start with his story was because of his last moments with the man as George rushed out to call the police. They replayed in his mind like a dying record:
“They did this to me” Victor had said. For Dream to see a grown, accomplished man before him in ruins like this, he thrived in the moment. He’d become a detective to drag out the evil in society into the light, to purge darkness to beg at his feet and beg his forgiveness. To protect those who couldn’t protect themselves from these monsters. He knew he deserved this much. He had to do this much so that no other child would grow up the way he did, with no one to protect him. A murderer would always be a murderer as evil with always be evil no matter the justification behind it.
He scoffed at the man.
“You have to understand.” Victor Su begged, fingers shaking like a Parkinson’s patient’s as he scrambled away from the detective who approached slowly. “ I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to! But- they pushed my hand, they did this to me!”
He blames the victims. Dream realized.
“What could they have ever done to you?!” Dream seethed.
“You- you have no idea! They took- they have-!”
“Shut up!” Dream yelled, unwilling to let the justification behind this crime breech his ears.
The man tripped over a small coffee table and crashed onto he floor at the base of his tiger-pattern sofa, face contorted in impercievable pain.
He could kill him. Hell, he wants to kill him. But, what good is a hero if he’s behind bars for something as meaningless as taking this man’s life?
He watched the man reach into his pocket. Dream braced when he pulled out a gun and a second smaller object. But Dream could tell the man had exhausted his energy and was almost harmless at this time so he stepped closer and crouched.
“You repel me” he whispered with every bit of vehemence and disgust.
The man nodded, surprisingly. His tears, fat and ugly. Dream felt something being forced into his hand. He had half a mind to shove it back into the man’s face but paused when the man said, “ Use this. Please, find them, save…her” he barely heard the last work as the gun was instantaneously shoved into the man’s mouth and fired upward.
No blood spilled on his jean jacket. He stepped back from the very dead body and slid his hand into his pocket. He heard the front door open as George re-entered the building, probably having heard the gunfire.
As if on cue, Dream felt his phone ding in his pocket.
“So, what now?” George asked, Dream could feel his pulse racing almost as fast as his. This was only getting more exhilarating.
He pulled out his phone and read the message nestled under the clock that read 4; 08pm on his lock screen.
“Now? We go to church.” and he snorted at George’s quizzical look that screamed, ‘have you finally gone crazy?!’
If it had actually been asked, he’d probably have replied, ‘only occasionally’
***
Unknown: you want to know what is going on? Come to Prime Cathedral. Bring the ring.
Dream showed George the message in the taxi they’d hailed to take them halfway across the city to Prime Cathedral.
His first question of “What ring?” was promptly answered by Dream showing him the silver band, explaining simply that he’d ‘swiped it off the body’. and assuring that he’d meant to tell him eventually.
George was very mad that he had been out of the loop. He ignored Dream for the rest of the ride.
***
So here was the thing; Dream, despite his macho, confidence and outstanding display of smarts, was starting to get fidgety. Not out of nerves, definitely not. But rather, exhilaration(yes, he has often been told that he acted like a psychopath himself on very regular occasions).
It is one thing to know that you’re about to meet a crazy psychopath who kidnaps little girls, pretends to be them when texting their daddies and force their father’s to commit mass homicide and it’s another to actually be there in the location writing for a trap, an ambush or the psychopath to keep their word and actually show up.
“This is stupid. I don’t even go to church” George blurted, breaking his silent treatment.
“I’m not even Christian.” Dream scoffed.
“Great.” a new voice said, “I guess we have enough in common to get along.”
Dream could have sworn he heard his hip bone crack! when he whipped around to the source of the voice.
The church was dimly lit by moonlight. Out of one of the darkest corners, a man stepped out. His clothing was the first thing the detectives noticed, all white, somehow, it made him more wary of this new-comer.
“Who are you?” George, ever the collected one, enunciated the question first.
The man stared right into Dream’s partner’s soul when he said, “Well, I can’t tell you that…” then he turned to Dream, completely disregarding George, “ But you can call me Sapnap.” Dream’s first thought was to snort because who the hell named their child sapnap??? But he controlled himself, rationalizing that clearly it was a code name but still, what the fuck???
George, still the collected one nodded, “I’m sure you already know but I’m George and that’s my partner, Dream. Why did you call us here?”
“Of course I know who you are. I know a lot of things, some good, some bad. And as to why I called you here, “he continued, “Simply put, you have questions, and I have their answers.”
George started, “What the fuck is that even supposed to--”
Dream cut in, the gears in his brain running, “You’ll tell us everything we need to know?”
“Within reason, of course.”
“Naturally. Well, then you promised to tell me what the hell is going on. “
“You’re going to have to be a bit more specific.”
“Dream…” George frowned.
He went on anyway, “ I’m talking about Victor Su and Lionel Fischer. They may not be connected but there is a fine link between those two, a dead man walking, another compelled to kill so many innocents because his daughter is being held hostage but there's more isn't there?"
“Dream!” George chastised.
Still, he persisted, "There's clearly something greater forces are trying to hide from us. I want you to enlighten me.”
The Sapnap guy merely smirked, like he liked what he was hearing. Like he knew something they didn't because maybe he did. Dream had seen that face several times when he looked in a mirror.
Sapnap took the smallest step closer, “For you to understand that, I have to start from the very beginning." He paused, thinking, pondering, "How about I start at…magic is real.”