Accused

It's October, and you know what that means!

SPOOKY SEASON!!!

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I wanted to write something for Halloween, because I haven't written anything in so long since school started! So here we go!

This will be multiple parts, but still short, don't worry!

Pin on ❖ INSPIRATION

It was the middle of October when I learned that the things we're told as kids to scare us were real.

My partner, Elliot Gordon, was the first to see me come in that day, and just like every other day he tried to make a joke. "Hey, David! Did you hear about the one with the dog and the tree," he asked, a dopey smile on his face. I shook my head. "Yeah, because you told me it a month ago."

He muttered a small "oh," as I passed by him to my desk. I looked at the small stack of papers and looked through them. Just a few robberies and some fraud. Nothing I hadn't seen before. I sighed and collapsed in my chair. I had a feeling this would be a long day.

About an hour later, Elliot came back over to me. "Hey, I was gonna get some coffee. Want anything?"

I stood up. "I'll come with you. I need to stretch my legs anyway." He nodded and we walked out of the precinct together.

Elliot was an easy person to make conversation with. I hadn't ever met anyone who didn't like him. And while I suppose I don't show it as much as I should, I thought of Elliot as my friend, and at this point my only one. I wasn't exactly a talkative person. My dad used to say I was so boring watching paint dry was funner than talking to me. Then again, he was drunk at the time, so I knew not to take it to heart.

We both got coffee and Elliot had to go to the bathroom (seriously, his bladder was the size of a pea). I told him I'd be outside.

The weather was nice, so I took off my jacket. The breeze felt nice against my face and I took a deep breath. I guess you could call it the calm before the storm.

Then I heard something.

At first I couldn't really tell what it was. But it sounded like pain. I put down the coffee and my jacket and practically ran to the noise.

The sound had come from an alleyway. But when I got there, it was too late. It was a woman. She seemed to have been shot, but I hadn't heard the gun go off. She was barely alive, but she saw my face.

"I'm...go-going to die," she said, her voice hoarse and barely audible. I looked at the wound. I couldn't have the last words this woman heard be lies. She was not going to survive a wound like that. No one would.

"Who did this to you," I asked. She opened her mouth, but she didn't say a word. She was barely saying awake as it was. "Please, ma'am-"

"Alice," she muttered.

"Alice. Do you know who did this to you?" The woman shook her head as much as she could. I held her hand tight. "I will find them. I swear." She gave me the faintest smile. Then her eyes closed.

She was gone.

I froze. For what must've been a minute, I couldn't figure out what to do. What snapped me out of it was the yelling.

"Put your hands up!"

I looked at the person who had spoke. A cop. Then I looked back at Alice. "We need to call the CSI," I said, standing up.

The cop didn't lower his gun. I put my hands up. "What the hell are you doing," I hissed.

"David Locke, I would've never expected this of you. You are under arrest for what looks to be 2nd degree murder," he said.

I shook my head vigorously. "I didn't kill her," I said. The cop looked down at my clothes. I did too, noticing how my shirt was now died red with blood.

"I didn't kill her," I repeated, practically begging that this would make the cop see that I wasn't the criminal here. But that wasn't the case.

"Listen David, I don't want to do this. But either come with me or you will also be charged with resisting arrest."

As he uttered those words, all I could think was one thought. Run.

And that's what I did.

I ran as fast as I could. I wondered if I could outrun this guy at all, but I didn't dare look back. I just kept running.

I didn't understand how this could happen. How they could think I would kill an innocent woman. Then again, the evidence wasn't exactly on my side.

I only stopped running when I could barely breathe, and my chest felt like it was going to explode. I hid between two buildings, pressing myself against one of the walls as if I was a chameleon and could mimic my surroundings.

Luckily, I didn't see the cop. He must've lost me. I collapsed to the ground, holding my knees tight to my chest. I allowed myself to breathe as I looked at my hands. They were covered in blood, but the blood had dried. I wiped my hands on my pants.

If I had been anyone else, I would've decided just to stay right here, and never move until I died. But I wasn't that kind of person. I had sworn to Alice I would find her murderer (who wasn't me). And I would do just that.


My hands shook violently as I snuck in through the window of the precinct. I felt like a common criminal. I knew I wasn't, but that knowledge didn't really seem to help.

It was late, so nobody was supposed to be there.

Or so I thought until the light came on.

"I don't think you're supposed to be here," the man said, leaning against the side of the doorway with a smirk. He had a scar on the side of his face, all the way down to his chin. His blue eyes bore right into my brown ones, but there was a friendly glint in them. If he did know that I was framed for murder, it didn't show on his face.

"I need to see the body of Alice Jacobson," I said. The man pushed himself off the wall and walked towards me. "Oh, I know," he said. "You're David Locke, right? The one they say killed her?"

I wanted to say no, but I could tell he already knew.

"Do you believe that," I asked. He gave me a look over. "Nope. You don't seem like the type."

The man stuck out his hand. "Logan Wright," he said.

I was hesitant, but I shook his hand. "David Locke. Though it seems you already knew that," I said.

"Pleasure. Now, why do you need to see the victim," Logan asked. He wasn't accusing. He just seemed curious. I sighed.

"I need to find out who killed her. I promised that. And it's the only way to clear my name," I explained. Logan nodded. "Well then come on."

I didn't understand why he trusted me, why he was allowing me to see the body, but I wasn't complaining. It's better than actually having to hurt someone to see the body.

Logan brought me to the table and took off the cover. Alice was now deathly pale. The wound still looked terrible though. I'm so sorry, I thought to myself, as if she could read my mind, as if she was still alive.

"Do you have any idea-," I asked.

"Depends on what you mean," Logan interrupted, shrugging. "Who it was? I can't tell. The only fingerprints on her are yours."

"Thanks," I muttered.

"Not that I think you're guilty," he said quickly. "Just that, there isn't any proof any other person was there. Weapon wise however, that's where things get interesting. The thing that killed her, it isn't natural."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What do you mean it isn't natural?"

"Well, it looks like she's been shot, but there's no bullet. It didn't go through all the way either, there's no wound on the back. Meaning it couldn't have been a gun," he explained.

I shook my head. "That's...impossible," I whispered.

"Did you hear a gunshot," he asked.

He could see it on my face that I hadn't, even though I didn't say a word.

"Then a gun didn't kill her."

Before I could say anything else, the door swung open, knocking it off it's hinges. Logan cursed.

The group, which consisted of two men and one woman, walked in. The woman led the group. "Well," she said. "It's always annoying to have to clean up the loose ends, but I will admit, it's satisfying."

"Listen, this is a big-," I tried. That was before a knife whizzed past my face, so close I felt the wind when it passed me.

Logan cursed again before grabbing my arm and dragging me out a different door. I could feel the group was following us, but they weren't chasing. It was like they knew they'd catch us eventually, even if it wasn't right now.

Logan kept dragging me through the building and out the front door. "Who were those guys," I asked as I began to run alongside him.

"Vampires," he said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"Excuse me, what," I practically yelled.

"Vampires! did you not see the teeth?"

"No, because I was paying more attention to the knife that almost made me a human kebab," I yelled.

I pulled my hand away from Logan. "What the hell is going on," I asked, exasperated and breathing hard. Logan sighed.

"I promise I'll tell you everything," he said. "But we need to get someplace safe. I know someone, she can help us. And I'm not just talking about protecting us from the nasty bloodsuckers, I mean she can help us find out what happened to the person you're being framed for murdering."

I gave him a look. "Why are you helping me," I asked. He gave me a small smile. "Because I'm not a monster. Now come on. We stand still too long they'll catch us."

Could I trust him? Honestly, I had no idea. But I also knew I didn't really have a choice. I needed to find out what was happening and why. If this guy wasn't just insane, than that meant vampires were real, and who knows what else.

So, for the moment at least, I followed him.

And there we go! How do you think this story will progress? Do you trust Logan, and who do you think is the killer? Stay tuned for next week to find out!

72 A) Hehe vampires ideas | dark aesthetic, vampire, lady gaga pictures

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