Prologue

Blunt force trauma.  The weapon, a fireplace poker, lay by the body.  He barely recognized the face.  In his memory, it was a youthful and cherubic face, like a chiseled Adonis.  Now it was disfigured and distorted, with multiple facial fractures, and a pond of blood.  The hair was was matted with dried blood, stuck tight to the face.  The eyes were open, caught there by surprise, but now with a milky film of death spread over them.  The nose was obviously broken, crushed into pulp and his mouth was gaping open, with the skin split open from the right corner of the mouth up to the left nostril, like a cleft palate. Several of the teeth were knocked out.  There was no tentativeness in this beating. He did not even bother to check for a pulse.  He called nine-one-one and told the dispatcher that this was a homicide.  He stood beside the lifeless body, waiting for the crime scene investigators and homicide detectives to arrive, and realized he hated the smell of blood, raw like old coins.

Reviews

[Pierre Roy]

Great prologue. Can't wait to read more. Very intriguing