Dark and cold and rainy as it was, she did not shiver as she walked down the alleyway. Nor did she show any indication that she had felt the temperature go down. She walked calmly and almost robotically, drenched in water, toward the one place she knew would be her end. She neither glanced around, nor did she say a word as she trudged up to the wooden door. Her knuckles had barely skimmed the black handle when the door swung open and she stepped inside. She didn't question the mysterious opening of the door, nor did she show any hint of surprise when she saw the red scarf hanging from the ceiling. She knew it was her end, and as she resolutely climbed on the stool to tie the scarf around her scarred and ugly neck she gave the faintest of smiles. Then, still with the faint bitter smile on her face, she knotted the scarf, her hands working with precision and speed. With the scarlet red wool wound around her neck she opened her mouth and talked in a hoarse whisper. "I'm done." With her last words came a push of the stool, a last breath, and an ugly, lifeless body dangling from red wool.
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Innocent
Mystery / ThrillerTracie is to find the innocent. She is to sort out the innocent from the guilty. Who is innocent, who is guilty? And how is one supposed to know who to trust, who to believe, who to rely on?
