Miles woke up and he was in bed bandages all over his arms, he felt sore all over. He looked at them with confusion. He didn't do that, "what the?" He said to himself Caramel couldn't have done this and Miles had no memory of fixing himself up. He layed in bed and thinked to himself. and then he realized Stamps might've come over and found him. "Oh, shoot.." he mutters Stamps never knew about his depression, so if he did find him it would be hard to explain to Stamps without getting mad or breaking into tears, he got up to use the bathroom his arms sagged he was weak from last night, caramel followed she stared at Miles like she knew what was going on but he didn't. Once Miles freshened up, he was ready to read the next crime scene case. He sat down on a fresh delicious cup of coffee next to him. He opened the manilla envelope and began to read the case. "Name: Detective Barbara cause of death: force-fed rocks and her own Intestines" he gagged "oh god.. why Murkoffs hitmen so screwed up in the head?" He muttered to himself reading the case Barbra was a very well known detective, known as "mother' to the newbie detectives one day, she started to dip into exposing Murkoff the more he read the more he felt bad for her and the more disgusted he was reading as he went to grab the photos he skimmed them but threw them across the room once he looked at her body, her neck was swollen and bleeding intestines and rocks oozed out of her mouth, he felt acid bubbling up he puked in the sink but this felt weird kinda painful, instead of the vomit coming out smoothly it felt clogged.. he couldn't breathe! he had to puke whatever the hell this was, he felt like a cat coughing up a giant hairball "hunk! HCK" he gagged punching his chest he couldn't breathe! this giant ball in his throat hurt eventually, he managed to puke it all out but it was a long one eventually he could breathe, His breath hitched a bit he stared down at the sink "what the.." in the sink were intestines. Miles gagged and covered his mouth, he wanted to say something, but no words came out. He collapsed, slamming his head and blacking out.
YOU ARE READING
Adrenaline Rush to Madness.
HorrorMiles Upshur is a 30 year old freelance journalist, and lately his depression has been beating the shit out of him, causing his crave for validation to get really bad. but one day when a certain email comes in it sparks a shit show of problems, firs...