Ghost Town.

HI guys. So, insparation has hit me, and I chose to write this. It's just gonna be a short story, but it'll be just as good. It's supposed to be horror/mystery, please read:) Comment what you guys think! Enjoyyyy..

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Chapter 1

"Senela, get to the far side, 'Big Mike' is coming your way, over." Burst the voice of officer Jerry Bartaugh through my walkie-talkie, "I gotcha, over." I whisper back, sitting in a tight alley behind one of the many big office buldings of San Francisco, awaiting the arrival of just another amature criminal. 

"FREEZE!" I yell as I jump out from behind a dumpster, pointing my gun straight at a caught-off-gaurd man, who is holding a baseball bat. "Drop the weapon." I said firmly, not letting a drop of sweat out. "Hey man, why don't you drop it, eh?" He replied, making me chuckle, "Now, we can stand here arguing, ending up with you most-likely getting bruises all over you, or we can do this the old fashion way. Now you be a good little boy, drop the bat, put your hands up and not give me any trouble." I smile, "Hell naw." He yells, and starts running the other way, while dropping his bat. "You can't shoot no man when he defensless, girl." I roll my eyes, as if I didn't already know that. "This is just like highschool." I sigh, as I start running after him, surprised at the extreme resemblence this has to baseball. We run past pedestrians, who stop and trun around, watching the chaos. He's a fast guy, luckely I'm faster. Keeping on his tail, then outrunning him. I slapped handcuffs on and read him his rights. "Mike Loghiston, you are under arrest for the robbery of Kathy Martins, and mugging of Suzanne Leach, and Sam Jo." And with that, I pushed him into the back seat of a cop car and slammed the door just hard enough to make him jump. "Good work out there, detective." officer Jerry turned to me, "Not so bad yourself. Now get this kid down to the station, and make sure he's treated extra nicely." I wink at him, just for the fun of it. "Oh, by the way, captain called, said he needed to talk with you." He said. I hope this is something good, like a raise maybe. But of course not. I mean, after all, I'm Auburn Senela.

My full name is Audrey Auburn Senela, but I like Auburn the best. It's my favorite coulor too, like my hair. I am one of the lead detectives in the San Francisco Police Departament. I am 25 years of age, 26 on April 4th. I own a tiny, clustery apartament downtown. Oh, and by the way, I'm a magnet for bad luck.

"Detective Senela, please take a seat." Captain Winchester indicated the leather chair infront of his big oak desk. "Now, right to buissiness, shall we?" I nod my head. "We've received an anonymous call, informing about a possible homoside. But there are a few things that, are a bit, fishy." He says, "Well of course it's fishy, it's a murder." I half-smile, knowing he's not gonna crack. "First of all, this, this place, where the murder happend, it's kind of like a village. Only it's not even on any maps. The only way we even found the 'City' is by tracking the location the phonecall came from. Once police reached the area, sure enough there was a dead body, two bullet holes straight in the forehead. The forensic specialist identified it as a murder, since the bullet holes were in a shape that could only be made from a distance, so suicide is not the option. The phone used to call us was lying beside the victim, and we identified it as the victims cell. There was also a gun beside him. Both the gun and phone are wiped clean, no fingerprints what-so-ever. Who ever we're dealing with is good." He explained, "So wait, you mean to tell me, that the killer called it in?" I asked, "That's what it seems like, yes. Either way, Jerry'll drive you down to the 'village', forensics will fill you in about the victim. From now on, you're on the case. See you later, detective." I stood up and left.

Arriving at the so-called "Village", as soon as I stepped out of the car, I felt a chill run through me. There was a thick fog everywhere.

I went over to the lab geeks, crowded over the body. "So, who we got here?" I say, "Phill Evenas, 38 years of age, woked at Koloshi's Meats, no living relatives except for a sister in austria. Cause of death, shot." Samuel, one of our lab geeks, explained. "Now the question is, why was he here?" I wondered, "Well, this place, it has practicly no residents. Just a few citizens here and there. We saw some houses up-hill, I think that'd be a good place to start investigating." Samuel said, "Just leave the detective work to me, okay?" I snapped. The geeks were always trying to butt in. "So, tiny population, even Google doesn't know about it, what we gonna call this place?" I say, "Well, we  nicknamed it, Ghost Town."