Murder He Wrote [ l.s ]

Frigid

  ———WARNING: DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE———

>>So this is an update?! I haven't forgotten this story!! Also I'm changing the writing style from the first chapter. I don't like that as much. I wrote this chapter while listening to 'Heavy In Your Arms' by Florence + The Machine, you should listen to it while reading. It's a mood setter defiantly<<

I was driving down Adwick Avenue when I saw the police task force detectives. They were scattered across the front of the club, most with looks of frustration, others with dread.

I quickly parked across the club, trying to avoid all major confrontation with the police. My mind was racing with the possibilities, L.T couldn't possibly be after me? Taylor could of been at the wrong place at the wrong time. Though deep down I knew that wasn't the truth. I paced myself as I walked the cracked concrete to the back alley. I used to go there all the time on my 'business' but knowing that this was the place of Taylor's murder makes me want to vomit.

It had to be a coincidence, I mean maybe Taylor was just out clubbing and walked out at the wrong time? Right? L.T couldn't have known that that was one of my regular clubs or that I used to shack up in the alley way, all coincidence...I hope.

I found my breath dissipate as I looked at the scene before me. 'I like to read' was painted in a dark red across the gray bricked back wall of the alley.

I felt my heart drop out of my body. A part of me prays to any God out there that that wasn't about me or that it wasn't Taylor's blood on the wall. Maybe it was someone expressing their love for literature? Maybe L.T actually likes to read? Nope, not about me. Please.

I could hear someone yelling at me from the distance as I crossed over the police tape. Not like I could hear them from my heart pounding in my ears. I need to face the facts.

It's my fault Taylor's dead.

If I didn't get a stupid obsession over a mass murderer this would not have happened. If I could keep it in my god damn pants this wouldn't have happened either but why? Why Taylor? We haven't spoken to each other since our break up.

"Sir what are you doing! This is a crime scene, if you don't leave right now you'll be charged with obstruction of evidence!" I turned to the owner of the voice, a plump little elder man. "I'm Harry Styles, I have permission by the way. I was instructed by Officer Payne to come here." It was a little white lie, but I was desperate to find out more and this old grump wasn't going to get in my way.

"You're the Harry guy whose been writing about his um what do you call it? Sexual fantasies with a murderer? Never read em' but that's disgusting. I don't care who gave you permission, go wank off to killers in your home." He gave me a cold glare, I stuttered uncontrollably. What the fuck?!

"No! Mate you've got this all wrong! I write murder mystery novels about L.T, not um sexual fantasies! I'm here because your co-workers believe I could be of some assistance to the case." , I shook my head as he huffed in disagreement. What did I really expect? Some know it all cop to actually understand me. Not even my family understands me.

The plump cop scoffed and walked away, leaving me at the crime scene. I saw the out line of what seemed to be Taylor's body on the ground, it doesn't even resemble the human body. I could feel tears creeping there way out of my eyes.

I wiped my eyes fiercely with my jacket, willing away the crushing guilt. I don't have time for crying, I'm here to find the truth. I approached a woman who seemed to be a forensic investigator. "Excuse me ma'am but what seemed to have happened here?" She almost questioned me but took in my appearance and smiled.