Dance Of The Dead

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖌𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒

The room was dimly lit, the fluorescent lights casting a pale, clinical glow over the stark white walls. Florie sat at a metal table, her hands bound by cold, steel handcuffs. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, her eyes darting around the room. It felt oppressive, suffocating, as if the very air held the weight of her uncertain fate.

Across from her sat Detective Damien Auzenn, a young man with an air of self-assurance that bordered on arrogance. His clean-shaven face revealed sharp features, a testament to his mixed heritage. Damien's mother was South Korean, and his father, American. Florie has heard about this young detective from her friends before. He had inherited his father's steel-blue eyes, which seemed to bore into Florie's soul.

Damien cleared his throat, his tone laced with annoyance. "Florie," he began, leaning forward, "you were found unconscious at the Centurie Forests, near the lifeless body of Mr. Edward Monroe. Care to explain how you ended up in that predicament?"

Florie's eyes narrowed, and a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. "Detective Auzenn, I'm sure you've already heard this countless times, but I'll indulge you once more. I have no recollection of that day or how I came to be lying there. My memories seem to have been conveniently erased, as if someone doesn't want me to remember."

Damien scoffed, his frustration evident. "Convenient, indeed. You expect me to believe that your memories were just 'erased'? Florie, you were at the scene of the crime, and there is evidence linking you to the real murderer."

Florie's gaze hardened, a flicker of anger dancing in her eyes. "Evidence? You mean the fact that I was present? That hardly proves my guilt, Detective. I have a reputation to uphold, one that certainly doesn't involve murder."

Detective Damien leaned back in his chair, studying Florie intently. He had heard of her parents, the CEOs of a prestigious jewelry company and a flourishing florist business. Florie, however, had made a name for herself in an entirely different world. Her nature exploration videos on YouTube had garnered millions of followers, showcasing her audacious adventures and captivating storytelling.

Damien's irritation was momentarily overshadowed by curiosity. He had watched some of her videos, fascinated by her fearlessness in the face of the wild. But this was not the same Florie he had seen online. She exuded an attitude of defiance, a demeanor befitting the label she had earned as a "total bitch."

"Florie, let's cut to the chase," Damien said, his voice tinged with impatience. "You were the last person seen with Mr. Monroe. Witnesses saw the two of you arguing vehemently just hours before his body was discovered. And now, you conveniently have no memory of what happened."

Florie's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Oh, so witnesses suddenly hold all the answers? Let me tell you something, Detective. Witnesses can be mistaken, manipulated, or simply liars. As for my memory loss, I assure you it is as frustrating to me as it is to you."

Detective Damien gritted his teeth, his frustration mounting. He had hoped for a breakthrough, a confession, anything that would make sense of this puzzling case. But Florie remained defiant, her words cutting through his accusations.

"I suggest you start looking elsewhere, Detective," Florie continued, her voice dripping with contempt. "I may be a lot of things, but I am not a murderer. Perhaps you should redirect your investigation to someone who actually has a motive."

Damien's jaw clenched, his gaze locked onto Florie's defiant expression. There was something about her, an air of mystery that intrigued him. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this case than met the eye, and that Florie was somehow entangled in a web of deception.

But for now, he had to play his cards right, to navigate through Florie's icy demeanor and uncover the truth. As the weight of the interrogation room pressed down upon them, Detective Damien Auzenn realized that this was only the beginning of a tangled journey that would challenge both his skills as an investigator and his preconceptions about Florie's involvement in the murder of Edward Monroe.