Chapter 18:
Her apartment's colder than usual.
She unlocks her door, casually stepping in.
She noticed that her plants have grown thick, their leaves curling around her window.
It still looks the same.
Dead. Ugly. Rotten.
Just the way she likes it.
She drops her suitcase by the kitchen.
Her hand grazes her window sill, the tip of her fingers suddenly becoming clogged with filth.
Grim. Blacker. Rancid.
Beautiful.
Immediately, she walks back over to her suitcase, ripping it open as her clothes begin to spill out onto the floor.
She picks them up, one by one, folding them neatly before placing them inside her wardrobe.
Halfway through unpacking, she's startled by the sound of police breaking through her door.
She screams, instantly standing up from her knelt position.
She places her hands over her head by instinct.
She yells as two policemen grip her shoulders, harshly shoving her aside, pushing her face against the grim walls of her home.
The policemen stand around her at ease, but still armed. Some rummage through her kitchen, then through her bedroom.
As they grip their weapons tightly, each of their faces shows no emotion, their impassive look displaying no sign of what they are planning to do next.
Fallon struggles to emerge from their grip, but their grasp is too strong on her arms.
"You're hurting me!" She shouts. "Let me go!"
Holding a gun to her head, one policeman takes hold of both her arms, and proceeds to take her away. He handcuffs her bare hands.
"Fallon Johnston, you are arrested for the murder of Katherine Devourne. You have the right to remain silent, as any thing you say may and will be used against you in the court of law"
She suddenly stops moving.
There's no escape, she tells herself.
She remains silent as the police men shove her in the nearest car, and drive her to the station.
•
5.22pm.
Police Station of Brooklyn.
Fallon's sitting in an empty room.
It's just her, a police officer, and a metal table between them.
"Where were you the night of the seventeenth of October, this year?" The police officer hisses.
"It's clear that you've all already convinced yourselves that I'm the culprit. So, does anything I say really matter anymore?" Fallon glares at the woman, casually leaning back in her chair.
She feels uncomfortable.
Uneasy.
But, I have to remain calm, she reminds herself. There's always a way to escape.
She shakes her hands, still stuck in between the tough handcuffs. She tries to break free, the metal circles piercing her skin, causing it to bleed.
YOU ARE READING
The Darkness Within
Mystery / ThrillerIt's late. Very late. Sweat oozes from her skin as she strolls through the dark alleyway. She's weird. Unusual. Traumatised by her husband's death, she struggles to ignore his continuous hammering memories that float through her mind. His smile...
