----------------------------------------
March 1, 20XX
New York City
Streets
11:30 PM
----------------------------------------
An intense metallic screeching sound was heard to the left of her, and she whipped her head around to see a car flying straight toward her. Time slowed and she saw everything happen in slow motion. Heads spinning at the end of the alleyway, the person in the driver's seat angrily slamming the brakes, and then she saw herself in the mirror. A disheveled mess of what she used to be. What was she before? Her mind struggled to find information, but some managed to break through. Her confident smile, the nonchalance that was always there... Tears broke through her taut resolve, slowly falling down her round cheeks. Her eyes wandered up to the weeping gloomy sky and then closed. Why is the sky so sad tonight? I can’t remember.
The car smashed into her body.
Her body flew, hitting the brick alleyway wall, and collapsed onto the floor like a ragdoll. Her head slammed against the concrete like a basketball and she could no longer open her eyes. Any warmth left in her had escaped. What was I supposed to do? Was this even my fault? This death is fitting, she assured herself. Would it be what they wanted? The girl wondered.
The noises around her faded out, and people’s screams and cries became quieter. How bittersweet. Her face would’ve twisted into a grin if she could move. Maybe, she could be forgiven if she did this. She paused. Why do I need to be forgiven again? A splitting headache paralyzed her body further.
Loud obnoxious sirens approached. Her body had given up and so did her mind. Time slipped away from her quickly. She exhaled what she thought would be her last breath, preparing for her death.
Her internal monologue was interrupted by a masculine voice, “You can’t break for shit, you idiot!”
“It wasn’t my fault she got thrown in front of the car.” A feminine, apathetic voice drowned out all others.
What’s going on?
A different voice responded, it was huskier than the others, “No, it definitely is. You told me to drive faster, so I couldn’t stop in time!”
A young man in what felt like a trenchcoat picked up the girl's body with ease. His warm arms wrapped around her bleeding figure. Her heart beat bold and quick with his touch. She wanted to scream at him to put her down, to let her die, and for him to remove his familiar touch.
Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
“Guys, we have to go. The police are heading our way.” A new voice sounded, this one was intelligent, more rational.
“Shit, let’s head back, Gabriel’s right. We can find that guy later, but we need to escape and take care of this girl right now.” This also was an unfamiliar voice; it was the man in the trenchcoat.
He gently set the dying girl down onto the back seats of their car. The engine purred and the car doors slammed, her ‘saviors’ chattering.
“Won’t her blood get everywhere?” The apathetic woman worriedly said.
“It’s fine, it won’t be able to ruin your dress.” The car jolted forward as the driver stepped on the gas, hard. Screams erupted from outside the car, most likely from it about to hit people. Her heart slowed and she breathed out what she believed would be her last once more.
----------------------------------------
March 1, 20XX
New York City
Streets
11:35 PM
----------------------------------------
“Ms. Holmes.”
The young detective took her eyes off the corpse laying on the floor and stood up. A large man wearing a mask had a brown file in his hand, and an umbrella in the other. Two men grabbed the girl's body and lifted her up into a body bag.
“A new case for you.”
She took off her latex gloves and received the file, tucking it under her armpit.
“What about the current one?”
He shrugged his shoulders, “It’s ordered from above.”
The man stared down at her and then handed her his clear umbrella. The rain stopped pounding down on her shoulders like stones.
“You can’t let the files get wet.”
She solemnly nodded and the man walked away. The rain fell off his shoulders as it would to a mountain.
“Ms. Holmes.”
She spun around again, expecting the mountain of a man to be there. It was not, though. Instead, there was a frail pale man standing in front of her.
“You can leave this case to us. Team 5 is now taking over the Sector 3 cases.”
Her eyebrows furrowed, “You don’t understand how important the case you’re taking over is.”
The crackle and boom of thunder created a natural pause between them.
“Yes, we do.” His eyes narrowed.
“Tch.” She turned and walked away from the sickly man.
Boom. Thunder crackled once more and illuminated the sky. She would not let this case go unnoticed. She would solve it. And she would forever change the rules of the game everyone was playing.