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8:38 AM, MAY 28TH, 1987
RENVALE POLICE INTERROGATION ROOM 01
Emmy watches as the gruff police officer pauses the camcorder footage on Ben's frightened face. Confusion becomes clear on her face at the action.
EMMY
What are you doing?
GRUFF POLICE OFFICER
This is a lot to see. And I think we can all agree a break is needed.
EMMY
You mean you and buddy walk out of here and get a donut break while I'm still stuck in here.
GRUFF POLICE OFFICER
Not exactly, kid. You're not the only one we need to question about this case.
Instantly, Emmy's tense demeanour slips.
EMMY
Oh.
A second later, it returns along with another emotion—anger.
EMMY
You're seriously not gonna question her, right? Because if you are, then you're even more insensitive douchebags than I already thought you were, because after what that thing fucking did to her, you have no right to talk to her when she's—
SMILING POLICE OFFICER
We're not gonna talk to her. We're gonna talk to the other kid, Emmy.
EMMY
Oh.
Again, her tense demeanour falls as she looks down, a mix of emotions crossing her face as the police officers get up and leave. When they exit the room, Emmy reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls something out to fidget with, a neutral look on her face as she stares at the object in her hands—a red hair clip, with spots of darker red on the cheap plastic.
The security camera doesn't show it well, but if any forensic scientist or cop saw the footage, saw the dark spots of red, they'd think it almost looks like... blood.
Emmy glances over to the camera, and she slides the hair clip back into her jacket as she drums her fingers against the table. She looks at the camcorder, at the frozen image of her best friend's face, before looking at the security camera. Her eyes narrow into a glare and she flips it the middle finger before sharply dropping it to return to staring at the table and drumming her finger against it, face lowered.
EMMY
They have to believe us. They're seeing the footage. They have to believe we didn't kill her, that this is serious. They have to believe us. They have to.
Yet, even as Emmy says it, she doesn't truly sound confident—like some part of her doesn't believe it and she's trying to convince herself.
She doesn't say anything else as she now begins to hum, fingers still drumming on the table.
The officers still don't return.
Emmy waits until they do—and when they can see the rest of the footage.
And what she, Quinn and Ben had learned of the horrifying truth of Morrow House's haunting.
***
>:)
Short, I know! But, hopefully, it was impactful!
If you have questions... good. That means I'm doing my job well >:)
Also, I am loving writing all the found footage!! I was a bit nervous, but I think I'm pulling it off really well! It's literally so fun to write in this format and just play with the genre
And for all still worried about Ben... you might be getting answers soon >:)
