Lovers and Lawbreakers

Murdered

Our story story begins in a city called Los Angeles, at a time where it was draped in dark, the moon hanging in the sky like a drop of milk.

Mari and Peter had been dating for seven years when it began. They were returning from a night out at a bar, neither one of them having drunk too much alcohol. Peter usually only had one bottle of beer, and Mari tended to take sips of it.

That was their first mistake.

Their second was deciding their apartment was close enough to walk to.

Their third was shrugging and using a shortcut through an alleyway.

This specific alleyway was the very alleyway that Peter would later be murdered in.

But at this point, the couple was five minutes away from their shortcut.

They were the only ones on the street, which was unusual but not unwelcome. There was the odd car here and there, but mostly, the street was barren. The only sound was that of their shoes tapping on the pavement, and the occasional word or two in reference to how surprising it was that the street was empty or how strange it was to see shops with their lights off and doors locked.

Peter at one point had stopped walking and leaned down to capture Mari's lips with his own. Of course, she wasn't hesitant to kiss back.

When they seperated, Peter stroked his thumb across her cheek and whispered, "I love you."

Mari smiled and replied, "I love you too, Peter."

He slung his arm around her shoulders, and they continued walking after their abrupt kiss.

Four minutes to the alleyway.

Mari rested her head on Peter's shoulder and breathed in his scent, burying her face in his navy blue jacket.

The smell reminded her of cinnamon and apples, and of home.

She smiled into the fabric and continued walking in the direction.

Three minutes to the alleyway.

Peter took his arm back from around Mari's shoulders and took her hand in his, swinging it back and forth as they passed shop after shop.

Two minutes from the alleyway.

They walked in silence.

One minute from the alleyway.

It came into view and Mari looked up at Peter. They shrugged, and without saying a word both knew what they meant.

It was a shortcut. They had used it before, and it was a significantly faster route to their apartment.

Four steps away.

Three.

Two.

One.

And they entered.

The sounds of their footsteps bounced off of the brick walls on either side of them. It was dark, the only thing keeping the two of them connected were their intertwined fingers.

It was eerily silent in the dark alleyway.

Seconds after Mari made that exact observation, she felt a searing pain on the side of her head, Peter's hand ripped from her own, and her body hit the pavement.

Her vision blurred from the impact, her head throbbing. She knew she was about to slip from conciousness, but she clung onto it, attempting to stand on wobbly legs but falling back onto her face. She tasted blood.