Look Up

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
Very short story about a very strange murder.

Still in the rough stage, would love any feedback from anyone.

Submitted: September 17, 2015

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Submitted: September 17, 2015

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Look Up

 Detective Inspector Matt Fisher stepped under the police tape, nodded at the grunt holding it up, and fell into step beside the frowning blonde. “Rough day, Peretti?”

 “Piss off Fisher.”
He smirked, and followed the hard-ass Italian towards the crime scene. DI Rosa Peretti would be attractive, if not for the scowl that permanently twisted her features. It was as though each case she worked dragged her face down further into an unappealing grimace.

 His own face fell as they approached a large oak tree in the centre of the park. “So we got another?”
 “The body was found an hour ago by an early-morning jogger. Same M.O as the other two: C.O.D is strangulation, victim was strung up post-mortem.”

 Fisher glanced up into the branches of the tree. The body of a woman in her thirties was illuminated by large spotlights, her limbs pressed against her sides by the white string that encased her. “Who is- uh, was she?”
 “Nicole Sanchez, thirty-two, part of the 61st Precinct.”
 Another cop… “They haven’t cut her down yet?”
 “Forensics are still taking photos and crap.”
 “And this is the third cop killed. In a week.”
 Peretti just nodded, remaining silent. Fisher wondered if she was as unsettled about this as he was. Not that he would admit that he was worried.

 “They find a bug?”
 She merely pointed at the ground to his left, where a yellow triangle sat triumphantly in the mud, indicating potential evidence.
 He squatted down, immediately spying the small wooden creature he had been expecting. A spider, same as the others. “So we got a cop-hating serial killer with a bug fetish?”
 “Spiders, yeah.” Peretti shivered dramatically, and rubbed her arms through her shirt in an attempt to get rid of the goosebumps Fisher knew weren’t from the cold.
 “We’ll catch him.”

 The figure in the tree smiled.

 

***


 After removing his jacket and holster, Fisher slumped onto the couch, and placed his gear on the table in front of him. He stared at the black screen across the high-ceiling lounge, not caring that nothing was playing. He couldn’t take his mind off of this cop-killing creep. Eventually, his tired mind began to shut down. His eyelids grew heavy, and he fell asleep.

 

***

 Fisher sat up, his eyes snapping open. Why did I-
 Creak.
 He froze. Surely not-
 Creak.

 He slowly leaned forward, cringing at the old-spring sound his couch made, and grabbed his gun from the table. Standing as quietly as possible, he moved to the closest wall, and stood against it. He held his breath. His heart beat faster in his chest. I’m being paranoid, there’s no way-
 Creak.

 His eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of movement. Did I lock the front door? Yes. I remember it vividly. What about the windows? He began to move around the room, keeping his back pressed against the wall, until he reached the large window overlooking the yard. Locked.
 The bathroom window is too small to climb through. I can’t remember locking my bedroom window, but that’s on the second storey
 Creak.
 Fisher began to panic. The room was cold but he was sweating. His heart was beating faster than he thought possible, now a deafening crescendo in his ears. I have to know I have to check.
 He held his gun out in front of him, and crept around the lounge, checking behind, beside, and underneath every piece of furniture. He moved out into the dark hall, swinging his gun every which way, and checked the rest of the rooms. He checked under his bed, in his closet, under every table, within every nook and cranny he could think of. Nothing.
 Eventually, making his way back to the lounge, his heart rate began to recede. He had checked everywhere. He was sure he had checked everywhere. He finally lowered his gun, and for the first time in the last fifteen minutes began to relax.
 Jeez Matt… You are paranoid. There’s no psycho waiting to jump out at-
 Creak.
 He looked up and screamed.


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