Insania

A/N Alright so this is just something that started as a school project and I decided I'd make use of it. So I present Insania (which is Latin for madness)

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The knife descended towards her face, she desperately rolled away, seeking the shelter of the undergrowth. Her masked attacker followed her frantic escape. Plunging through the underbrush of the dark, moonlit forest she sought to find signal and radio in for backup. Her opportunity never came. A dark figure tackled her from behind, her red hair splaying out behind her as she hit the ground. Again the knife was raised, reflecting the moonlight on its cold, razor-sharp edge.

“McAllister,” the name of her voice snapped her thoughts back to reality. She turned her head to see her partner Lewis approaching her.

“You are supposed to be in the training room,” he reprimanded her as he drew nearer. McAllister knew where she was supposed to be, but the training only made the memories of that night vivider, clearer, more terrifying then they already were; enough of those images flitting through her dreams each night. She didn’t need them haunting her waking hours too.

She followed her partner out of the staff lounge area and downstairs towards the armoury and training facilities, gunshots ringing out told tales of what was unfolding downstairs. McAllister turned to go down to the training room when a shout interrupted her.

“McAllister! You’re needed in the squad room. Pronto,” She didn’t recognise the voice; turning, McAllister saw one of the interns looking pointedly at her. McAllister went into police detective mode; ordering people about, telling them to fetch her usual coffee and to get out of her way.

The squad room was in the higher levels of the building, shrouded in sound proof insulation and bullet-proof glass this squad room was probably the safest place within the city’s limits.

“Ahhh, Detective McAllister, so glad you could join us,” the police department Chief greeted her as she walked in. “We’ve got another case for you. Murder. Stabbing. We think it’s your old ‘friend’.”

***********

The PD’s sports cars pulled up in front of a ramshackle old home in the middle of nowhere. The detectives entered the house, examining every detail as they went. Something seemed oddly familiar about the house to McAllister; stopping to admire the photos each time they entered a new room.

Just like Quinley Street that terrible night, McAllister reminisced.

(Flashback)

The old whitewash cottage seemed to be waiting her as she approached it. The unforgiving wind rustled branches, whistling through the windows of the small abode. As she skulked through the white-picket gate, the harsh, grating yowl and hiss of fighting cats caused her heart to skip a beat. She entered the creaking dwelling, intent on sniffing out the fiend responsible for the crime.

The howling continued outside, causing the desecrated house to creak and groan as she moved through it. The people in the paintings and photos seemed to watch her as she crept through the desolate house. At the eerie sound of a door squeaking on its unused hinges the intruder stopped in   her tracks. Heavy footfalls alerted her to the presence of a person, probably a man, approaching. She hid in the nearest room, the study, and cowered behind a bookshelf.

Again the screeching sound of protesting hinges filled the otherwise silent atmosphere as the door to the study was opened. She prepared herself to spring at her would-be attacker but the sound of retreating footsteps told her she should make her escape. She crept out the back door, she knew this lead out into the woods, but she could circle back round to her car. As she made her way into the woods something whizzed through the air and stuck into the tree just in front of her. She turned to see the man who was in the house, pulling his arm back, aiming for her. She knew he wouldn’t miss her intentionally this time. The intruder took off running, deeper into the woods.

”McAllister! Lana! Lana are you okay?!” The voice of her partner once again brought her back to the present.

“I’m fine, Lewis, just thinking,” was the simple reply she gave. She needed to get her head in the game. Lana McAllister had a case to solve.

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A/N Wooo! First chapter done! Yay!