He was stood still in his front doorway, holding the doorknob with wide eyes and a heavy sense of foreboding in his heart. As soon as he returned to rational thought he threw himself on his bicycle and pedaled manically down the road, not even noticing the cobbles that usually tormented him.

He knew where he was going, it would take perhaps around fifteen minutes going at this speed to get there, yet, for Beau, it felt like hours.

He jumped off the bike whilst still going full pelt and threw it down outside the house. There were sounds coming from inside, that was for sure.

His time with Watson had gone on a lot longer than he had initially thought it would and the Creed initiation he had overheard being planned had completely slipped his mind.

He cursed himself for being so forgetful and stupid, people's lives were in danger and he was chatting to a lady about magic circles over some wine and a shitty pizza.

Regret didn't have time to take root as he had already burst into action. The door had already been forced open so he just needed to walk through, from up the dark staircase was a shrill scream and a man's shout following by a heavy smacking sound. Then followed another scream and a man's laughter.

Beau's mana started seeping out of his body and materialising above him like steam coming off boiling water, his hair flowing with energy completely defying gravity as it moved freely above his head. His eyes narrowed as he paced up the staircase.

In the landing of the large house was a man on the ground, dead.

His head smashed open and blood pouring out onto the cream carpet. A lady and child were huddled in the corner. He'd found the origin of the scream... And the reason.

There were two other people, one man, and one woman, standing over the dead man. Beau covered his face with a black veil of mana as he had left his mask in the shop because of his hurry.

Walking up behind the woman who was standing at the back observing the commotion, he slipped a stiletto knife made of pure mana in through the back of her neck, puncturing completely through her spinal chord and reemerging from her windpipe. After a few gasps and gurgles, Beau let her slump to the ground. Her blood merging with the dead man's who she, not seconds before had been laughing at.

The sound of the woman falling garnered a reaction from the man who turned around frantically. Seeing the dark mass in front of Beau's face and the now lifeless body of the woman, he bared his teeth like a rabid animal.

“Joe?”

The silence was his only reply.

“What did you do?”

This question was aimed at Beau who treated the man in the same way as the dead woman.

Beau summoned another black veil this time covering the woman and the child.

The man charged at Beau. He wasn't a magician, that Beau could tell from his lack of mana. The woman once, hence his quick decision to dispatch of her. As the man rushed towards Beau he launched a punch which caught Beau square in the jaw.

There was an awkward pause where, whilst blood had started to trickle out of the corner of Beau's mouth, and despite the heavy collision, he had barely moved at all. Not only that but there seemed to be something else. Some sort of cold sensation coming from his belly. He looked down to find the knife rammed deep into his gut. The man looked up at Beau again with contempt and growled at him, further cementing the wild animal image, but, before anything more could be said Beau wrenched the knife up to his torso, spilling his insides on the now thoroughly drenched carpet.

After a moment's pause, he knelt dow and healed the wound in the first dead man's head.

Not because he was trying to bring him back to life, he just thought in some sort of pathetic way that it was a consolation for not being there in time to save him.

After making sure there were no more intruders he promptly left the building. As the black veil dissipated, all the shocked mother and child could do was watch his back as he walked down the stairs. The mother tried to say something, trying her best to speak with her voice and when that failed did her best to communicate with her eyes. Beau didn't look back to see her desperate attempts.

Maybe to them, he seemed like a saviour, maybe not. An innocent man died tonight and had he not been so caught up in having fun, he'd still be alive.

Beau had neither the energy nor the will to ride his bike so he wheeled it home. The frenzied ride had taken fifteen minutes so his lifeless walk took a little over an hour.

Arriving at his house it took him fifteen tries to get the key in the keyhole. After trying to sleep for an hour he got up and made himself some tea. He found it calmed his nerves and had saved him on many occasions.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

As he was drinking he brought the mug, filled with freshly made boiling hot tea and smashed it over the kitchen table, the liquid scalding the bare skin on his arms. He then turned around and punched a hole straight through his wall, opening a fist sized hole up for the people next door to find in the morning.

He was not able or willing to scream, no matter how much he wanted to. So he grabbed whatever was closest to him, which happened to be the recently used teapot. But, this time managed to stop himself before smashing it – it was a gift after all.

Beau's emotional collapse was well broadcasted to his neighbours. The walls are not exactly sound proof, especially when there's a gaping big hole in one of them. Beau was sprawled on the sofa looking at the ceiling with dead eyes.

All he could think about was how unfair it was. He merely had one day of fun, one day where he could truly feel like he was healing and it ended with another innocent dying and more blood on Beau's hands.

He knew, however, that while he could have prevented this incident, he could also do one better. He had the chance now to rid the world of the scum that was The Creed and he was going to do it else he sends himself to the gallows.

Sleep eluded him the entire night and most of the morning, his energy had been drained from the mental toll. He couldn't understand, it's not like this is the first time this has happened in the four years of his Creed hunt. Why was he feeling so bad about it now?

He took a deep breath, obviously, it was long past opening time for the shop, but there was a persistent customer who had not stopped knocking on the door for the last half an hour. Beau felt he should probably at least flip the sign to closed so that he could think in peace.

Almost unsurprisingly, there stood Sheila. Again with her uncanny information gathering skills. When she saw his dark figure coming down the stairs through the newly fitted windows of his shop, she jumped and rushed to the front door ready to be let in.

He opened the door slowly, letting her in. She was about to say something when she noticed his expression and realised the last thing he wanted right now was to hear the yammering of an old lady's worries. She noticed the dried blood and fresh cuts on his hands so after sitting him down she cleaned them up and bandaged them. She then swept his kitchen and repaired the hole in the wall to the best of her ability.

She arrived back in the main room where Beau had his sofa and found him fast asleep. She retraced her steps to get the blanket from his room then left the building, knowing it was better to just let him rest.

Days went by, Beau hadn't left his shop since the incident. He was not sad or regretful anymore, though. Oh no, on the contrary. He had steeled his mind and put to rest any hope or semblance of a normal life and worked to finish his ultimate creation. A magic pistol.

This item was going to revolutionise weaponry. As explained before, pure magic control without an intermediary has its limits. Guns, at that time, were also extremely limited. Combine the two, however, and you get a semi-automatic pistol with the same power as a rifle. The magic circle was there purely to kick the bullet out of the chamber at twice the speed of sound, then another circle to push a new bullet from the magazine into the chamber ready to be fired again. There was no trigger, as all it took to fire it was a small dose of mana. The gun was thin but the barrel was long so that it was accurate. The bullets were made of lead, but if he ever ran out of ammo, he could just summon new bullets for the gun using mana.

It was a unique weapon of that there was no doubt, it would wreak havoc on anyone that was unfortunate enough to get in Beau's way.

The day finally came for the meeting, he had heard Watson calling for him the day before but was incapable of moving or talking or even letting her in. Not because he was in a strop but because his guilty conscious would undoubtedly falter.

Not only that but he thought he may not be entirely sane enough to try and maintain a stable relationship with someone, even just a friendly one. At least for the time being.

He knew that his actions would anger Watson to no end, though, which he did regret. But she was investigating him. He was surprised she still had time to come round even after the incident of the initiation, surely that would provide a few clues. The mother and daughter had almost definitely at least seen that he had blue hair as he was walking away.

----------------------------------------------------

Watson was angry. This time there was a triple murder with three potential killers involved. Things had really kicked off, they even had two witnesses who, for the time being, were left to grieve over theirhusband/fatherr's death. No doubt she would push to get as many answers as possible out of them.

They had also found the one winged angel mark on the woman, for some reason the other man was lacking such a mark. There were a variety of possibilities as to why. However, the most interesting part was the intervention of the White Demon who, from what they gathered so far, saved the life of the mother and child.

She was excited, it was all going rather well for her. Despite the death, obviously. Not only was she making advancements on her case but she had her meeting with Beau to look forward to.

Or not...

After knocking on the door for fifteen minutes an older lady happened to walk past.

“Might you be looking for Beau?”

“Why yes, I am. Do you know him?”

“Of course deary, however, it may be difficult to see him at the moment.”

“Where is he?”

“Oh he's in there.”

“So why isn't he answering the door, and why isn't his shop open?”

“As rude as this may sound, but who are you? And why do you want to know about Beau?”

“Ah of course, forgive my poor manners. My name's Ella-Mae Watson, I'm with the MCR. You might know that his shop was robbed recently. I was one of the investigators involved in the case.”

“I see... I see, well, you're not going to be able to see him. Not for a while, I'm afraid.”

“Why's that?”

“Like I said, I don't know why. All I know is that something happened, I'msure it's nothing much and he'll get over it soon enough.”

Sheila tried to play down Beau's condition. She saw it herself, she knew it was definitely more than 'nothing much'. But this pretty lady from the MCR didn't need to know that.

“When do you think he'll come out?”

“God know's! He could be in there for weeks.” Sheila smiled at the frowning Watson. Watson's face slowly relaxed though as she realised she was being teased.

“Alright, well, I guess I'll just have to wait till he's done.

“I think that would be a good idea.”

“Thank you very much...”

“Sheila.”

“Thank you, Sheila. I hope we meet again.”

She turned and left, the anger inside somewhat subsiding but still peeved at being stood up. This was the first time she'd shown interest in a guy and she didn't even make it to the second date.

What a horrible start. She smiled at the old lady's words though and decided to give the azure haired boy a chance to explain himself when she next saw him.