20 Reasons to Let Go

[ Reason Twelve ] - Blood and Concrete

Kendal's POV

There's a point at which darkness grows to be so dark it can no longer become any blacker or any more sincere. This is the kind of darkness that engulfed the town of Westward as Kendal rode slowly to her doom.

There was no light, not even the faintest flicker of a street light, though Kendal was certain that in all the time that she'd lived here, there had always been street lamps lining the roads.

She drew a sharp breath in, watching with narrowed eyes as the constable that drove the car gripped the leather wheel tightly. A burning anger entered her heart, and she hated herself for it.

"We're approaching Scarlet Herring Prison, please gather your things and prepare to be escorted inside." The constable sitting in the passenger seat droned.

Kendal tucked her phone further into the back pocket of her jeans and waited.

As they pulled up to a large, dreary looking building, the constable in the passenger seat unbuckled. Then the car came to a halt, and he opened his door and stepped outside.

"This way." He said darkly, the door to Kendal's right clicking as he opened it for her.

She swallowed nervously, then hopped out. A cold breeze bristled her lightweight jacket, and she shivered.

Where were they?

Kendal squinted, trying to make sense of her surroundings. A large hand closed around her upper arm, pulling her in the direction of the building. "Let's go." Said the constable.

Following, Kendal pulled her jacket closer to her body, desperate for the tiniest bit of warmth.

Suddenly, they were inside. It was warmer, but only slightly. Kendal frowned, disappointed by this. But the constable didn't seem to notice, "Follow me." He said.

They walked through a maze of darkened halls, strange moans and wails escaping from the rooms on either side. And as they passed a wall of cells, Kendal focused her eyes forward and forced herself not to look at the unfortunate souls within them.

A large room opened up before them, and Kendal saw that this was the sort of 'main entrance' to the jail. It was nicer than everything else she had seen so far, with tiled floors and wooden tables. A small chandelier even hung from the ceiling.

The constable lead her to an enormous desk in the center of the room. "Constable Terry, reporting for duty." He told the attendant, "I'm delivering a Miss Kendal Winters for the recent murder of René Endel."

"Very good. Has she admitted to committing the crime?" Asked the attendant, her eyes bright.

"Not that I know of." Constable Terry shifted on his feet, "We would have taken her to the station first, but we wanted any questioning to be done in a more controlled environment."

The attendant nodded, "Understandable. We will take it from here. Has she had mug shots and fingerprints done?"

Constable Terry shook his head, "No, Ma'am."

"We will take care of that then. Thank you."

"Thank you."

With that, he was gone, out the door and disappeared into the night. Kendal felt a stone of dread sitting in her stomach.

A muscular, uniformed woman came forward and stood by Kendal, "Come with me."

Kendal stumbled as she walked, following the woman through a wide hallway and into an tiny room. The walls were gray, and a white table sat plainly in the middle. There was also a sink towards the back. The woman nudged her a little, sitting her down at the table.