Who Killed Kyle Simmons? (Bastille)

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

The camera flashed with a heavy click. The bright light momentarily blinding the room. People were buzzing in and out, and all around the room.

A stillness seemed to hang in the air, where the dark haired woman in heels crouched with a fat black camera, assessed every gory angle of the body slumped in the corner before her.

Her glasses reflected the sightless eyes that gazed away in front of her.

The smell of dried blood that clung to the walls, made her wrinkle her nose, distaste written all over her features. The scene in front of her wasn't the most pleasant sight Layla Jackson had seen.

She tried to avert her gaze from the sobbing woman in the corner of the room. One of the officers was trying, and failing to comfort her. She'd been the one who'd claimed to have found him.

Handing the camera to a young man behind her, Layla swapped the gadget for a pair of rubber gloves. She snapped them on, wriggling her fingers as the gloves stuck to them.

Slowly leaning closer, she angled the victims head, until she got a clear view of the crater-like dent, just behind his temple. Blood, and what looked like shattered bone, matted his hair around the area of skull that had collapsed in on itself.

Many of his fingers were bent at angles, or so smashed up, they were an almost unrecognisable mushy mess. He'd tried to defend himself. Layla carefully laid his hand back down to rest on the floor.

Whomever had done it, had at least had a proper go at it, they'd definitely succeeded in making sure he was dead. Seemed like they'd wanted him dead really badly.

His dark eyes were glassy and terrified. His dark hair was bloodstained. His moustache and beard neat.

She stretched up as she stood, peeling the red tainted gloves from her hands, and depositing them in a small bin near her feet.

Layla was handed a yellow file. Flicking a strand of stray hair that had escaped from her bun away from her face, she turned back to the file. Quickly opening it, the young woman scanned the page, only taking in the most vital details.

Kyle Jonathan Simmons

Looking back to the body, then her notes, she'd hardly been able to take in anymore information, when there was a commotion outside the front door.

One of the police officers failed to keep them back, as a man ducked under his arms and dropped to his knees in front of Kyle. The rest of his company close behind.

His black skinny jeans turning even darker as the red liquid seeped into the material.

The wound in Kyle's head still gushed blood, and Layla wasn't too sure when it would stop.

She gave a kurt nod to the policeman, who let the others spill into the room. Each one wore a shocked expression, faces pale.

"Kyle, oh god, Kyle."

The man to her right kept muttering as he took in every detail of his friend. Many of his companions had crowded in a semi circle around him now, only a couple going to console Kyle's grieving girlfriend.

Adjusting her glasses and grim expression, Layla stepped back to the stairs, to give them more space.

After a drawn out silence, the group turned to look at her. It was like they'd only just noticed her standing there, patiently waiting.

Dark heels clicked on the wooden floor as she went to introduce herself. Her black coat giving her a smart first impression upon the new comers.

The man who'd first run in, was still sat, cradling the lifeless body of his friend. Blood smeared on his left cheek, just under tear filled blue eyes.

His company weren't much better, a sea of red tear stained faces stared at her as she tucked the mustard coloured folder, under her arm. Layla flicked a stray hair away from her face.

The man in the corner, slowly lowered his friend down before standing. He was wearing a baggy grey hoodie, skinny jeans and what used to be white converse, now dyed red. There was a cut on his forehead, a majority of it covered by a plaster. He was fairly tall at around six foot. Glancing back at his friends who were now mumbling amongst each other, he walked up to Layla. He held his hand out to her.

"Dan."

He shook her small hand with his shaky one. He had to take several deep breaths, before he was able to form a sentence.

Layla realised her hand was now sticky with blood from shaking Dan's hand. Janna, Kyle's girlfriend, had been the same. Sat with her boyfriend until they'd arrived in the early hours of the morning. Blood on her hands and clothes.

She brought back her attention to Dan as he started talking.

"W-what happened?"

"I'd tell you if I could," she said with a sympathetic smile, "but this is quite a... complicated, case, and anything we learn, will be kept confidential for the moment," she said with a right smile.

Dan nodded, a hand dying his dark brown quiff red as he ran his fingers through his hair as two men carefully rolled Kyle's body into a long bag.

Everyone looked anywhere to avoid catching a glimpse of the grey body bag, and the body wrapped in it. The zip sounded grating, and the wheels on the stretcher squealed, as Kyle was carted away.

Looking up at her again, Layla held out her hand for Dan to shake this time, and officially introduce herself.

"Layla Jackson... I'll be taking the Kyle Simmons murder case."

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A/N

Trying to make these chapters slightly longer compared to my other stories :)

I feel a little mean for ruthlessly murdering Kyle...

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