Smoke

Smoke

Status: In Progress

Genre: Action and Adventure

Houses:

Details

Status: In Progress

Genre: Action and Adventure

Houses:

Summary

Smoke danced through the frigid air, shadows playing over the walls as if they were the guests of the run-down motel room. Back and forth they flitted across the walls, tainted with shades of carmine.
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Summary

Smoke danced through the frigid air, shadows playing over the walls as if they were the guests of the run-down motel room. Back and forth they flitted across the walls, tainted with shades of carmine.

Chapter1 (v.1) - One

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: January 31, 2017

Reads: 48

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: January 31, 2017

A A A

A A A

Smoke danced through the frigid air, shadows playing over the walls as if they were the guests of the run-down motel room. Back and forth they flitted across the walls, tainted with shades of carmine.
“911, what is your emergency?” The harsh, grainy noise of a motel speakerphone broke the chilling silence. The smell of blood doused the room, the bite of death flooded the thick air.
“I’d like to report a murder.” A distorted voice, hoarse and dry, spoke. The feeling of eyes graced what could only be described as a macabre and morbid masterpiece. The lights died with the flick of a switch, like curtains closing. Then the man, like an audience after a show that was a little more than anticlimactic, gathered his things and left the grotesque display out for one unfortunate soul to stumble over.
As the door shut, once weak lungs expanded in a forced gasp, eyes tore open. The flavor of blood, sour, spoiled, and metallic. For a moment, the mutilated shape pinned against the wall seemed like art, before delicate skin was ripped away, the victim breaking free from their haphazard crucifixion. Fragile tendons slid and ripped away from the pikes that pinned their hands to their perch,buried deep in the drywall. It only took minutes, but it seemed like an eternity before they crumbled to the floor with an ugly, wet noise.
“Sir? Are you there? Sir?” The noise kept the struggling life attached, clinging to the last threads of consciousness. A hazy moan was all they could force out, but eventually moans turned to screams, as the veil lifted and gave way to raw, lucid agony.
“Ma’am! Ma’am! Can you tell me what’s happening? We’ve found  your location and we have emergency units on the way!” She managed to swallow the screams, frantically breathing. She didn’t know what to do. She felt herself dying. She fought the tide of black that rode over her, struggling to gain dominance. With each tide came more and more, thoughts, memories, emotions.
“My name… is Detective Scarlett Castillo…”
 She kept telling herself she wouldn’t make it. That she would die and simply become a number. Just a number on the records, a stain on the already gruesome name Chicago law enforcement had made for itself since the end of the war.
“I’m twenty seven… I was born here… In Chicago.”
She had to hang on. For her family, for Lani. She had to keep fighting. There were people that counted on her.
“I… I’m…”
“Springfield Police Department!”
The door broke down, crashing to the floor. An officer ran in, taking one look at her. Any fearlessness, any strength, drained from his eyes, and he recoiled almost immediately. “Jesus Christ! Get the paramedics in here! Now!”
She let the tide consume her, finished fighting the inevitable. What was once a hideous, blurred collage of seedy motel browns became a vivid, endless black.


© Copyright 2017 Kaylie Parker. All rights reserved.

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