Who is the biggest liar of them all?
Marked COMPLETE on 30/06/2018
❛❛A shattered mirror can be deceptive.❜❜
It all started with a cracked mirror.
Everything changed with a coincidence.
A mirror can't lie, that's what the onlooker thinks. But don't f...
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"That's it, isn't it? We have fixed the whole thing," announced Sanchez as he entered the station along with a bewildered Scott Morris and an equally triumphant David Clark, all the while staring into the distance at something Clark couldn't see.
Clark had been observing Sanchez closely for the last few days. He had developed quite a staring-at-nothing habit. Clark wasn't sure what was going on in his mind, but today, he had to admit, he was proud of the detective. The smooth job today, he thought, had been an act of absolute brilliance. The department needs more people like him.
Presently Clark led Morris to a cell, in fact, the same cell where Sanders had been. Sanders—the momma's big baby. Total pussy, absolutely incapable of even staying alone at night, it seemed. Nah, not possible that he did anything.
Clark was proud of himself too. Clark liked his instincts; he could always rely on them. Wasn't it his intuition that led them to a very important clue?
~
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Well, it's all over . . .
Yes, this case had a bit of a twist and all, but wasn't it stupid!
Just a novice trying to pull off a stunt in desperation. Nothing much.
It seems I'm not made for this job. Yeah, that's it. THAT'S FREAKING IT! I'm leaving! Hey world, I'm leaving! Wait, not the world, just this job. I know there's something bigger waiting for me out there.
These were the frenzied thoughts Sanchez was having. He forced himself to look at Clark. To Sanchez, everything seemed to happen in slow motion, as if in a movie. His vision was almost hazy. Clark was giving his "sincere apologies" to Sanders, the sissy of the town.
'Any paperwork, officer?' asked Ross Sanders. 'Yeah, just a few signatures here and there.' Clark replied. Sanchez's eyes followed them to the desk. The time seemed to stretch wildly. After what seemed like an hour, Sanders finished his paperwork.
Then Sanchez saw it: Sanders slowly turned to the cell where Morris was locked up, which was in his full view, facing Morris; and without warning, gave a contorted, twisted, sickly grin. A grin that could only belong to the spawn of Satan.
Then, as if nothing had happened, he turned and walked away, leaving Sanchez in a daze.
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