The Illegal Creed

More Than Asked For

They had arrived at the scene.

He stepped out of the black and white car with flashing lights on top of it.

Blue and red.

Sunglasses shielded his brown eyes from the blazing sun, though his long black pants weren't helping as much.

His shoes were also black, and shiny. Sure to blind someone if they were to walk by, and the sun reflect it's rays off of his footwear.

Upon the top half of his body was a button up, dark bluish black tee shirt with a collar and pockets. It was decorated with badges, and things someone like him would need.

His waist held a gun firmly in it's respective case, which was also black.

Black. There was lots of that. It would be the color anyone would describe this place as. It was dark, gloomy, scary...

He walked toward the red road on the sidewalk, paying attention to all of the corpses and injured being carried away on gurnies from the blocks off street. Who could cause so much damage?

On his way, he stopped at one of his companions, who was writing on a large clipboard as others collected samples and such. "We believe this could have been a gang related crime." He said without looking up, though it was obvious he was talking to him, who has the name of Tristan. But you will find that while at his job, he was addressed by Officer Lakes.

Tristan looked at the scene again. It seemed way worse than a gang's doing. "I see... Any suspects or victims found?" "You walked right into my next sentence. We need you to go into the house and check for others who may still be in there." His eyes widened a little. Was he hearing correctly? "Excuse me?" "I said we need you to go check for others in the house. As of now."

Tristan was only eighteen! Why would they send him into a potentially active crime scene? He was too young to die!

His fear was quickly replaced with a blank expression and a professional attitude with pride, but not too much of course. "Sure. Just let me get my stuff from the car." He said cooly. He didn't wait for a response before walking away at a medium pace.

Once he reached the car, he grabbed his black bulletproof vest and put it on, along with the rest of his protective gear.

***

Soon he was in the house, gun positioned in both hands at either shoulder. He moved carefully, slowly, and silently throughout the house, on guard.

After a while, he only had one room left: the kitchen. He approached as quietly as possible, freezing when he stepped on parts of the wooden floor that creaked.

He heard something. But it was quiet, very faint. He leaned against the outside of one of the kitchen walls, beside the doorway. His heart began to race as he closed his eyes and made a quick prayer. Afterwards, he took a deep breath, possibly his last, and walked into the kitchen. You wouldn't believe how violent looking it was in there.

"FREEZE!" It came out a bit louder and more harsh than desired, due to his adrenaline rushing. As soon as he saw it was a person, he began to continue. "If you have any weapons, surrender them and put your hands where I can see them."

His chest heaved as he stood frozen, staring at them. A girl. She looked like a teen. She stood at the far end of the kitchen, half of her body covered by the center counter. Her eyes were fixed on the floor it seemed, that was also covered in dead bodies. Really, what happened?

"Ma 'am. Please put your hands where I can see them or I will be forced to shoot." He stated firmly. She looked at him with wide gray eyes of hurt, confusion. They were gorgeous, was his first thought when he made eye contact, but he did not let his guard down. Not yet anyway. He could tell. She was in shock.

He then knew she wasn't a threat. Or he assumed anyway. More a witness or victim than anything. He also knew he wasn't supposed to assume- that was dangerous. But he took a chance anyway.

He slowly lowered his gun and put it away as he carefully made his way over to the girl, who the reality finally hit. He made sure to maneuver around the dead.

Tears started to roll down her dark pink cheeks as she said quietly, "Don't touch me." "Ma 'am, I'm with the police. We need to take you in fo-" He barely laid a finger on her as she broke down, literally. She began to sob as she collapsed, holding her face in her hands. Tristan didn't know what to do. But again, he did what he felt he needed to.

"Everything's gonna be okay ma 'am. We just need to take you in and get you aw-" "Leave me alone! Please..." She cried through her words, looking up at him only for that moment.

Though, against her wishes, he bent down and grabbed one of her wrists with one hand, and wrapped his other arm around her waist to help her up.

She yelped out in pain as he applied more pressure with picking her up, pulling away from him. "OW! I said DON'T TOUCH ME!" She cried as she gently held her side, he looked at her with slight concern.

Learning his lesson, Tristan wrapped an arm around her shoulder and guided her out. She stumbled and swayed as they walked, her being in so much shock and so scared she could potentially pass out.

When they reached the light that was outside, they both squinted but continued to walk. People started talking right away, the bystanders.

"There are survivors??" "Oh my god!" "Mom look! A person is coming out!" Etc.

Of course some news stations' reporters had arrived, but they were held back and kept under control until the scene could settle down.

There was an ambulance at the scene too, which was good. Well, I guess you could say the whole neighborhood was there.

"She needs to be checked out. I sense injuries, a particular one on her side." The one that was previously writing on a clipboard, Chief Jinkins, nodded as some paramedics helped the girl, who we/you will discover more about later, onto a gurnie near the truck. She immediately started to go against it, pushing and shoving people away as the fought her onto it.

Soon they had her strapped down before they put her into the back of the truck. Tristan sighed as he watched it speed off.

Jinkins spoke as Tristan began taking off his protective gear. "Is that the only person you found?" "Alive? Yes." Was his only response. His mind went back to the girl. He hopes she's okay... anyone would hope that, right?