Intuition ✅

Part 1 - Premonition

A/N: Hello, everybody! I know I promised to have my short story up a LONG time ago, but I just had to revise what I'd created after my class ended :) You're gonna love it ;) This short story, Intuition, is divided into three parts. I don't know yet if I'll be posting it all at once or by day...either way, I hope you enjoy! ;)

   From a distance, the crime scene seemed mundane enough. From the perspective of an expert, it was anything but normal. I'd seen plenty of death in my 21-year-old life, and, trust me, it wasn't my choice. I would never wish my gift on anyone, even when the power running through my family tree was beneficial to society, or, in this case, the small town of Killman, Illinois. True to its name, of course, this ghost of a town has the highest crime rate in the state, which I doubt is anything to boast about. Death plagued the streets each and every day of the year, usually in the form of shootings, murders, car accidents, and even the occasional suicide.

   Nick's General Store was the latest and greatest bloodstained scene, with the aisles of assorted goods and trinkets splattered and soaked in crimson. I'd never seen such a grisly sight when I walked through the automatic sliding door. Cops galore awaited me, donned in their blue denim vests and jackets, white gloves speckled with red. I pulled out my own gloves, pristinely white at the moment. Jack never allowed me to get too close to the body, but he was nowhere to be seen.

   He must be in the back, I thought to myself.

   The suspect was missing from the scene, but I looked past that. I focused my attention on the victim; a woman in her mid-thirties, lying on the once-candescent tile. Her clothes were speckled with her own blood, and the bullet wound in the middle of her forehead was anything but subtle.

   My stomach rolled in apprehension, and the doubt set in before I could stop it. I hadn't been able to save this one. I was usually warned ahead of time when death came knocking. This, I feared, was my gift's biggest flaw. I had inherited a great deal of psychic energy from my Mother alone. With the dominant gene passed down generation after generation, I'd decided to use my gift of seeing the future – specifically the deaths of others – for a greater purpose.

   "Kat! My God, when did you get here?" I met the person's forest-green eyes, and instantly tried for a smile. It was Jack Summers, my partner. We'd been friends for a few years; being as we met when I joined my faction of the Killman Police Department, which was appropriately dubbed PASS (Paranormal Assistance and Support Squad). A detective and a cop was the best – or worst, depending on how you looked at it – partnership, and I was more than grateful to have Jack to work alongside. Unfortunately, he never questioned my numerous tips on possible catastrophes, and he didn't know exactly what PASS consisted of. Concealing my powers from my own partner, there seemed to always be a level of tension between us.

   I was still let down by my failed attempt at saving yet another life. Jack had other concerns. "I thought I told you I could handle these types of cases," he told me, a frown plastered on his youthful face. Jack was only one year older than me, but we were constantly on the same page when we had these types of cases. Jack took my shoulder and started to guide me back, away from the body. "I know this kind of scene brings back terrible memories," he continued. "Why don't you go home, Kat? I can take care of this."

   "But-"

   "May's probably waiting for you."

   My spirits lifted at the mention of my eccentric roommate. May Romero has been one of my only friends since middle school. She had no psychic gifts or anything of the sort, but she was my daily dash of normal, and I really, really needed that. She was bubbly, even outgoing. My opposite, I guess you could say, if you compared the two of us. We balanced each other's faults and flaws. May knew about my natural-born gift, and she constantly comforted me after I had to deal with the traumatic effects of my visions.