Cyclea's POV:-
"So, how old is Ms. Geneva?" Donovan asked before entering the house.
"I have no idea, I know her parents, because they do their business with Ed regularly, that's how I know she lives here; but I have never met her only her parents who are not home at this moment". Pointing at the obvious party house, I replied, "We should start here, but wait, one second what about the blood splattered on your pants?"
" I don't think anyone's going to be in their right mind to even notice it if they do; I'll just say it's a pattern..."
"Yeah, hopefully, no one will notice it. Please don't call it a pattern! It's blood for God's sake." Saying that we entered the party house.
The incredibly bright lights were blinding us, until we saw the disco ball spewing out a random assortment of light one second pitch-black darkening everyone's vision, and the other second a bright orange one. It's as if your vision breaks down into boxes like an LED screen of a TV, not 3D but 2D, and all you see is one orange box and one black box until everything becomes muzzily and blurry. I wondered if teenagers of this generation would like to blow their eyeballs off. It would be more peaceful and faster than what they are doing here!
Without even stepping foot into the mansion, I could smell the rancid booze or whatever mixtures of juices teens make. All of which are devastatingly disgusting. Around the back of the house, I could see myriads of chip packets open which no one bothered to touch. Some who did touch it left a funky sticky anomalous texture on their fingers. Ewwww. Yuck!
On my left, an obnoxiously loud, booming, EDM music was being played by asphalt-black speakers booming in and out. Vibrating within itself and making the whole floor vibrate with it. Causing a minute earthquake, I think. Loud enough to deafen anyone but it seemed to have no effect on teenagers who were dancing to these beats with no actual words. With the number of people accumulated here, it would be impossible to set our feet on something without being trampled or hit by a clumsy teenager. How would I ever find Ms. Geneva here; without even knowing what she looks like is going to be hard. These were the natural thoughts that roamed around my head just as we were about to enter the house.
"We----"Donovan said but I couldn't hear anything because the music was soul-crushing so I had to urge him to say anything out loud.
"WE NEED TO SPLIT UP.." He paused genuinely needing a breath, then continued, "THERE'S TOO MANY PEOPLE!" Donovan said, enacting every word as if I was a 4-year-old baby.
After rolling my eyes, I pointed my finger to him then to the left side of the house, then to me, and the right side of the house.
Cover all bases my dad always said.
He nodded and we went in different directions.
Donovan easily passed through the huffle and muffle of young adolescents but I couldn't handle crowds. Ever! I didn't even like to go to a concert for the same reason. Hopefully, this would be easier. It wasn't.
I needed a plan. Maybe ask around for her? Someone would know who invited them to this party. Right? One could only hope. Thinking that I entered the mansion.
An inch into the house and my leg slipped on a crushed red cup fallen on the floor with some booze spilling out of it. Maybe red is my unlucky color. Didn't I predict, I would fall within two steps taken into the house, turns out I only needed one.
When you fall beside a humongous crowd; a sense of humiliation tramples your dreams and hopes, but it's even worse when you do in it front of nasty, gnarly, soul-twisting teenagers, who are also drunk. Bad luck is my fortune. Isn't it?
Before my cerulean dress even touch the ground, everyone started pointing at me and laughing; 16-year-old me would have cared about half-witted people laughing at me but right now, at this moment, the only thing going through my mind was hope, to find this Ms. Geneva. One step at a time.
And as luck would have it, as I was gradually falling, my frantic arms broke my fall which was excruciating but the pain was even worse when my knees touched the floor. But before I would get back up, I noticed a minute table which I previously had missed due to the dancing crowd, but since they were surrounding and laughing at me, rather than dancing, I could finally see it. It was a frame of two parents and one little girl. Ms. Geneva and her parents! Bingo!
But as I grabbed onto the photo frame, I understood that it was a photo of a little girl possibly years ago, I couldn't find her this way if I asked people around for years. This face couldn't resemble her now!
I had to do something else. Change the plan. So, I pushed my knuckles into the ground which was very slippery with yellow squirty liquid dripping on it, which I wanted to assume was beer.
So, with sticky arms and wobbly knees, I stood with some conviction and any sense of confidence I had left; and I had an idea. Every bully has a bully for teens it may not be parents but it might just be someone with real authority. The police.
With all the eyes on me, I said, " I am a detective, from the Arizona police department, everyone quietly, form a line and leave this house outside for questioning, we are taking you to the station."
As I assumed a moment of silence, companioned with horror, panic, and angst in teenage eyes, telling them now was the time to run. And in a milli-second, everyone charged out of the house, crushing, crumpling even swerving me while dropping all the beers, food, and anything else in their hands. With the gushing of feet and the DJ stopping, while the lights were turning black and orange then black again, suddenly the whole house was empty, except one little mischievous, deviant lady and Donovan of course.
They were both on the other hand of the house, outside near an evergreen garden piled with fake flowers and a beautiful pool that was masqueraded by teenagers just a moment ago. Donovan was blocking the exit and not letting Ms. Geneva pass by. I was completely shocked by her look or rather outlook on life. She still had those sky-blue eyes and blond hair but now there were overshadowed by the pink highlights she had. She was wearing a black outfit that barely reached her knees while upheaving her chest. She had shiny silver heels with laces on, and now I discovered why she wouldn't run. Those shoes were easily half a million dollars, not something one would want to mess with.
"So, what will you do?" Donovan said to Ms. Geneva as I got close enough to her,
"What are you talking about?" I asked Donovan.
"This young lady, Katy here, is going to tell us what happened at that engagement party, with her parents and Edmond only, or I'll push her and her million-dollar outfit into the pool." He looked at Ms. Geneva or Katy while presenting her with an ultimatum. I agreed with him. Katy swerved her head up and down until she finally decided we weren't going to back down. So, she took the nearest chair and sat on it and then she said, "I'll tell you everything you want to know, only if you don't tell my parents about this party, and don't take me to jail."
I looked at Donovan and we both nodded. "You have a deal." Elated at her fear of cops, something I had too, but for a massively different reason. Weird how everyone's the same but just not how they think.
Thinking that I sat down near her, taking another wooden chair from their outdoor dining table. The conversation was just beginning.
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Every bully has a bully.
-Adam's Project (Movie)
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Killer in black
Mystery / Thriller"Semper Invictus" "It means 'Always undefeated' in Latin" That was what Cyclea's fiance said right before he was murdered in front of Cyclea's eyes on the day of their engagement. And the only thing she remembers is the killer was in black. She won'...
