Police swarmed the apartment, the sirens and shouts ringing in my ear.
“Drop the weapon!”
I dropped the knife.
“Hands behind your head, down on the ground, slowly!”
I made my way to the floor, my hands stretched back and behind my head, as requested. First down to my knees, then slowly rolling myself to the ground on my stomach.
“Don’t move!”
The police moved up on me. One grabbed my wrists, wrenching them down to my back and locking them in place with handcuffs. Another kicked the knife further away from me. Yet another investigated his body. His blood had already reached my chin.
“You do not have to say anything. But, it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”
They stood me up, jerking me upright. I was frogmarched out of the front door and pushed toward the elevator.
“Do you have a name? Do you know what happened in there?”
I kept silent.
“Fine. Don’t talk. Not my fault when you’re convicted of murder.”
A female officer pushed the elevator button and we waited together slowly, until a ring sounded, and the doors opened.
“Move.”
I moved. We filled the elevator. Another button push and the doors closed. The elevator shook and began travelling downwards.
My skin turned pitch-black, followed by blood-red. Their screams filled the air as each of their heads burst in unison. I broke the cuffs, hit the emergency stop button, and wrenched the doors open part way between the first and second floor. The colour slowly returned to my skin as I crept out of the polices’ coffin, returning to the hunt.
Today's prompt: murder
If you'd like to participate too, the contest can be found here: @mariannewest/day-1556-5-minute-freewrite-monday-prompt-murder