“Miss Reynolds? Can you hear me?” the detective asked gently from where she sat across the table from me. My eyes watched the dust mites in the air at they fluttered in the light from the florescent lightbulb. “Cassie?” The detective asked again.
“Yes. I can hear you.” I said monotonously. I rolled my head from it’s craned position to look at the detective with my dead eyes.
“Great,” she said as if it were perfectly normal to be talking to me. “My name is Sarah Hydie. Can I ask you a few questions?”
I watched her as she watched me. Her face - small and sharp; young - looked cheery. Her face bore makeup that was light, but noticeable; a rosy blush rested on her cheeks and her lips were dark pink as she smiled at me. She was relaxed in her chair, leaning forward with her elbows on the table and her body slouched, likes this was a meeting between family. If I hadn’t taken notice of her eyes, I might have believed her friendly facade.
Her hazel eyes were hard and all business. They shone with determination to get the answers out of me that the other four cops hadn’t. They all knew what had happened. They all knew I was guilty. They all just wanted me to admit to it. As I stared into her eyes for the longest time, I saw her resolve. She believed she wouldn’t crack like the others. She was convinced I could be broken. She wanted to be the one to make me confess.
I closed my eyes with a sigh and rolled my shoulders, then my neck. I cracked the knuckles of my fingers, a habit my mother had always said was going to lead to early arthritis. I stretched my legs as best I could while chained to this chair, then I pushed my arms out as far as I could to stretch them as well.
The whole time I stretched, Sarah watched me with the same cold hazel eyes and friendly smile. Finally I stopped stretching and opened my eyes to look her dead in the eyes. Her smile faltered and I saw her swallow hard. “Ask all the questions you want, Detective Sarah Hydie.”
The first question she asked was very blunt and very bold. It almost made me smirk. “Are you the Waywood Killer?”
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Random of Random
Short StoryJust little tidbits because I'm lazy. I come up with some ideas that could turn into cool books (or even movies :P) but I'm too lazy to put forth all that effort. So, here are a collection of little stories I started and never finished. If you want...
