A Never Finished Story

Perspectives and Time frames

It was the breaking wake of dawn but I kept on walking along the dark alleys from my home. Everyone who came passing by greets me but I do not greet them back. It was my ritual. My daily routine. This is how I’ve lived my life for years. No one really knows me. Not my real identity.

Again, I kept on walking; past the smoking lads with young women on their laps. I don’t care about them. I care much about something else. I walked past the street vendors and couples arguing what to do about their child. It was the daily scene but for me it’s going to be another wonderful time. I just need a comrade to share our passion; well, at least my passion.

I came into the streets and walked my way into the Victorian styled house. I composed myself first before hitting the doorbell. I smiled to myself. It’s going to be a very good day. Surely it will be. 

When the door opened, two heads appeared to see me outside and recognizing me as their friendly neighbor, they let me go inside with them. Not even asking why there’s a knife in my hand…

*

It was the breaking wake of dawn when Alexander Sparks returned home from his work. With his line of profession, he refused to work and interact with people whom he does not care much about. Especially if it doesn’t have any connections with his work.

Taking away his overflowing coat, he walked straight to his working table without even turning on the lights.

With his movements precise, he opened the drawer and pulled out a folder containing his latest case. It’s finished, he said to himself. Contentedly, he laid himself his back on his bed. But not long after he received a call from the police department, he was on his feet again. Wide awake.

*

“Daniella Grey and Gian Bash’s body was found dead in their house this morning by the police and…”

The drone of media reports didn’t surprise Alex at all. He made his way through and started his work.

Nothing is missing in the house. Not a single cent from what Gian does for living. The couple living together was stabbed. This was the pattern: criss-crossed marks all over both bodies. More than that, he noticed something from Daniella’s left chest. Blood was still oozing out from the wound made by the killer. He thoroughly looked at it and found some sort of initials. L.C.

He could be the killer, Alex thought. But another question crossed his mind: why would he sign for his initials?

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

This was a story I did a couple of years ago. I dug it up my writing chest and I found this one, just thought of sharing it with you. :)

Reviews

[CHRIS ANDES]

this is really cool, every scene seems so interesting!!!!