veronica [z.m]

0.2

"doesn't look like an accident.. it-it looks like she was k-killed sir."

~*~

                zayn took his bottom lip in between his teeth, biting on it hard enough to feel a metallic liquid taste flow, as he fidgeted with the ends of his oversized sweater. his boss and head of the fbi's investigation homicide department—chief officer lucas tomlinson—stared at the crime scene before them, sneaking in glances of the younger boy. he felt jittery, to say the least; it was fairly warm, eighty degrees, give or take a few, in the bathroom but zayn could feel his blood turn ice-cold as his tanned complexion turned milky-white. he idolized the chief and hoped to one day, work with him on cases, the big ones—to actually help find the serial killers and whatnot. this wasn't a big deal, shouldn't be a big deal. he was simply making a suggestion that the girl had died under different circumstances but how were he to become a serious detective if he couldn't even pick apart murdered victims from suicide victims? 

the chief knitted his eyebrows together, rubbing his shaven jawline. he appeared to be in deep thought which gave even more reason for zayn to grow all the more nervous. dammit, he should've just kept his mouth shut. his stupid st-st-stutter made the sentence sound sillier. he wanted to believe that the elder was right but he knew it wasn't. he didn't want the chief to think he was some know-it-all; he was just the amateur detective but he'd seen suicide scenes—he'd seen the look in their eyes. it was a terrifyingly wonderful thing. their eyes showed pain and traces of misery that had snowballed over time but all-in-all, it'd display the intonation of peace and freedom, indicting that their last hours may have been restful as they realized the fight was over. yet amanda watson's expression showed none of these emotions. it was pure fear—the paralyzing dreadfully vacant look of horror, as if she couldn't escape her already written fate.

no one really wanted to believe that a human being could have the devilish ability kill someone as brutal as this; this was a hands-on activity, very personal. this.. person (if you could even still consider them a person) had to have had the strength to hold this precious little girl down as she knowingly comes to the understanding that she's drowning. it was slow, it was gruesome, it was ruthless and at the same time, it was bold. so many things could've went wrong: there was always a chance that she could've simply knocked out and regained consciousness, fingerprints could be a problem if there were no gloves involved, and the dorms could've had cameras.

whoever it was just didn't seem to care. reckless, it was; and that in itself made zayn's blood run cold. they weren't scared of anything. they could do it again.

the chief, on the other hand, was glad zayn pointed this out. if you removed the hair, you could clearly see a pale, almost invisible, red-purple mark in the shape of a hand on the back of amanda's neck. and it would take a lot of willpower to drown yourself in a shallow bathtub, no matter how much alcohol or drugs you've consumed; the will to live is one of the most powerful instincts a human is born with. he doubted one could force oneself to do that, no matter how depressed they seemed to be, and so he uttered the words he always loathed saying.

"i think you're right son. this wasn't accidental, it was intentional." tomlinson heaved a large sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "it's a homicide case."

~*~

                vinney sat quietly with her dainty hands folded on her lap as she bounced her leg up and down the crimson carpet. quiet mumbled murmurs echoed through out the large, cold auditorium as young girls huddled around each other. her close friend and roommate, madison, sat beside her and was desperately attempting to keep herself from crying, chewing on her bottom lip and rubbing her knees. vinney rubbed her friend's back and swallowed the large lump forming in the middle her throat.