Tick tock goes the clock,
Until this Manor is
No more
Will the mouse
Find a way out?
Free of guilt;
Oh, safe and sound?
Time is running out, detective.
Angel Mallory has always been unlucky. Seemingly retired from their old job working for the Guil...
Author's Note: So, we hit 900 votes today and are finally so close to 2k reads, which has been one of my ultimate goals all this time. Thank you, truly!
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My eyes fluttered open, an ache spreading to every inch of my body. Groaning, I felt a pulse press onto the sides of my head, like a stake was running me through. Except I wasn't a witch, nor a vampire- but hangover, having collapsed on that same wall next to the door.
Flashes of aimlessly creating conspiracy theories and analysing suspects crossed my mind, adding to the pulse I heard in my head, pounding like a hammer.
I gathered all my strength to sit up, sending a glass bottle hurling to the other side of the room. I was hit with another wave of nausea, as if it was the reality of the situation crashing back into me with the same, intense force. Tipping me over the edge with just one, simple thought of her, dripping with venom.
I had grieved for a living person that night.
**** **
Benjamin shot upwards from his armchair, welcoming me into his humble office. A sturdy wooden desk stood in the middle, the rug underneath reeking of naphthalene and dust. The curtains, heavy as they were, restricted any sunlight from pouring into the room.
"So, how are you planning to celebrate your victory, detective?" Not giving the practical cobwebs on the back of his office chair a second thought, he sinked into it, the coils creaking. I hesitated before sitting down, looking straight into his ice blue eyes.
"Victory? It's not over yet, I need Thorne behind bars." The other man chuckled, his predator gaze peering into me. That's when it hit me.
He wanted something from me, I tensed, narrowing my eyes quizzically.
"Speaking about bars, what are you planning to tell the police? What's our story?" he intertwined his fingers, inching closer to me. I could've told him, but his alcohol breath didn't quite enchant me.
"It's a long one." I decided, pretending not to have payed much thought to it myself.
"I have time, plus, I'd love to hear." He grinned coyly, possibly entertaining the thought he could string me along for his benefit. I wouldn't be puppeted, not by him anyway. It was abundantly clear to me he was out to twist my story, to not include any of his... wrongdoings.
"Well you see, I don't have time..." I avoided, grabbing onto the chair handle to lift myself up.
"Hansen takes up all of it, right?" My head snapped back at the mention of her, like a force had pulled me back. I felt almost shoved back down onto the chair, my legs glued to the old fabric of the rug.
I scoffed. "And what, perhaps, would you mean by that?" I muttered through my teeth, my eyes narrowing further in a small, untraceable movement.
"I don't know-" I glared at him, raising my eyebrows in mock surprise "Okay, I do know that's a lie- I mean come on everyone knows about you and Ava-"
