A single bullet // M.C ✔️

17

"Luke?" An early call from my boss isn't what I expected at 7 a.m., way too early for me. I pushed my body so I was sitting up to fight and combat falling back asleep and making Luke listen to that.

"Meeting as soon as you can get in. It's urgent..." was all that was said before he hung up. Rude asshole. I groaned slightly, placing my phone back down in charge, letting my body flop backwards back into my cushions and thick blanket, letting my eyes hide themselves from the world. It's urgent. Those two words floated around my brain as I fought for it to turn off so I can sleep; he never specified a time.

"Fuck sake." I muttered, grabbing the black, cold device and unlocking it, opening messages to Luke to say I'll be there within the hour, can't be too specific with it. I still didn't move though, just lay there wondering what is my life. After about thirty minutes, I finally got my body to move and my feet to touch the cold hardwood in my bedroom, reminding me I need to get a little rug. I pushed my body fully off my bed, the crisp air surrounding me, sending a shiver down my spine. Time to head to work.

The walk to work didn't seem as long as what it usually does; the streets seemed eerily quiet compared to what I'm used to. There is no way New York is this quiet at 7:30 in the morning. The normal calm walk to work stressed me and sent nerves flooding my body, making me wish I drove. I battled the busy roads and took a slightly longer way to reach the building. It was making me nervous that Luke was clearly waiting for me, waiting to tell me some news he couldn't say down the phone or wait till I was next in tomorrow for my shift. It had to be done now. It didn't help the fact Kensie wasn't home, and her door was securely shut. If she was in there, I couldn't have known, but I can only assume she was up till early hours of the morning working on drawings for people. Deadlines are coming up.

The familiar building came into view, making me slow down from the fast pace I had found myself in. This is it. The thought of me being fired for some reason came to mind until I battled against it, saying Luke loved my article, wants more even. He won't be getting rid of me. The busy building was quiet; the receptionist wasn't anywhere, and there was no one rushing around; there should be. There are people who come early to make sure all articles are ready to be published when the time hits 7 so our early readers get the first scope of news as soon as they are up. We hate being late.

There was no coffee machine going or oven cooking and heating food. No pops of the toaster as it made freshly warmed bread pop up to the sky for its victim waiting to spread butter or jam on it. There was nothing. I almost wanted to turn and go back home, message Luke saying something's come up and I'll have to speak to him tomorrow, but I couldn't. Something was drawing me to the top floor where his office is; I had to know why I was called here.

Vans hit the floor as I walked, shuffling my bag up my arm again. One step. Two steps. Three steps. Elevator. Even the wait for the doors to open seemed to take forever before I stepped in, and they closed behind me, shutting me in the metal prison. Top floor. The small ding sounded as the elevator started going up; the lights above the door merged and changed into different numbers as I got higher. Floor five. Floor six. Floor seven. Bing. Slowly the doors opened, revealing the top floor to me.

That's when it hit me,

"Holy shit!" I yelled, my hand flying up to cover my nose and mouth. This has to be what it's about. Berry-coloured liquid was down the middle of the corridor before turning into one of the side offices, more importantly, my office. I dropped my bag with a soft thud on the elevator floor as no one else was around before letting my feet launch me in the direction of my office. What the fuck has happened here?

"Nicky!" I skidded to a halt as Luke's voice hit my ears. "Do not go in there!" His voice sounded muffled and far away as I stood outside my closed door. I looked to my left, spotting Luke standing there, his usual neat tamed hair all messy in different directions, and the normal smart casual clothes replaced with an oversized jumper and joggers. "I need to speak to you."

"There is nothing more important than this, Luke!" I yelled back, my emotions running wild, and my hand itching to touch and twist the door handle. I knew this was the work of the gang; everything's linked to me recently since the first article. Every death has been caused by me, and the fact Kensie wasn't seen this morning... "I need to know," I felt like I was going to burst into tears the longer I just stood frozen outside the door.

"It isn't Kensie." He was now next to me, somehow figuring out why I needed to see. "It will never be Kensie."

"You can't promise me that, Luke." I couldn't get my mind to believe what he said. "You don't know if it ever will be."

"You have to trust me, Nicky. It won't ever be her..."

"The first one was my dad, Luke. The second was my boss. Again, you can't promise me that." He bit at his lip as if he was stopping himself from speaking before sighing and nodding.

"Just don't touch anything. I know it's your office and shit, but it's a crime scene. Can't have you messing it up." I nodded and looked at the door handle, nearly gagging as underneath was more berry liquid before closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.

Loudly, the door opened, revealing the room to me. Everything seemed normal until my eyes reached the cause of the blood. Fuck.

"Sarah?"

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