Case #1789

Chapter 1

Sally Benson's P.O.V

Present Day...
"It seemed like just an ordinary night. My husband was working in his study, which he usually does when he comes home from work. I was sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee when the door bell rang. I lazily got to my feet and opened the door, spilling my coffee in the process."

*~*~*Two days ago*~*~*

I open the door seeing that no one is there. I look around, nothing but the windy breeze hitting my face is present. I go back inside and tried to clean up the mess of the coffee spill. All of a sudden, I hear a shattering noise come from upstairs. I bolt up the stairs, but the sight I witness when I get there is unbearable.

On the cold hardwood floor, surrounded by shattered glass lies my husband Jim.

Dead.

I cry uncontrollably, staring at his lifeless body. His throat is slit with blood flowing out and his lower half of the body is lying by the washroom with some of his internals falling out. The whole scene just makes me feel nauseous. I glance at my husband, an area on his chest, right on his heart is burned, with a 'C' made to look like a star. I stand and walk towards the damaged window and peer outside. A hooded figure runs down the street with an axe in hand. From the back it seems to be a man, but with the darkness, I could be wrong. But from what I can see, the figure looks extremely manly. I reach for the phone, calm down my tears, and dial "911".

"911 what's your emergency?"

"My husband he-he is dead. He was murdered."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Did you get a glimpse of the murder?" The pale, ginger-haired, brown-eyed woman questions. She has to be around at least twenty four.

"No. No, I didn't." I mumble. The woman rises to her feet. I stand, following her action.

"Well, Mrs. Benson. That is all we need from you today. We will call for furthermore questions." The FBI agent informs.

I nod as response, and shuffle out the door. On my way out, a young looking FBI agent accidentally bumps into me, causing her to spill her hot beverage onto the floor.

"Oh gosh I'm so sorry." She speaks.

"It's okay. First day, huh?" I ask.
She nods, stepping aside as the janitor walks towards us holding a mop.

"How'd you know?" She questions.

"I can tell." I reply. She lightly chuckles, "Well, I got to go..." She trails off, waiting for me to mention my name.

"Sally. Sally Benson." I exclaim.

"Goodbye then Sally Benson, oh wait, you're... I'm sorry for your loss ma'am." She mutters, realizing who I am.

"Me too." I say, walking away.