The Accused and The Dead

Lewis

I gaped soundlessly at the blood. Why was there so much of it? My head felt woozy as I watched the strange man plunge his knife into the girl’s neck. The girl stopped screaming instantly. My stomach turned as I watched the man dab his fingers into the blood and onto the wall. He giggled manically as he did this, muttering to himself all the while.

I had to get out of here, who knew what he would do to me if he noticed me. I began to edge around the gory scene towards the entrance of the alleyway. My foot hit a stone and I froze. The man cackled as he continued his mad art form. I relaxed and continued. My boots clanged on a loose manhole. The man’s back stiffened. I bit my lip then opened my mouth, ready to scream for help. He turned around.

He glared at me and I gulped. All I could see of him was one red rimmed eye and a blood covered hand; the rest of him was in shadow. He wasn’t smiling anymore. His face seemed determined as he advanced towards me. Say something, my mind willed frantically.

“W-why?” I stuttered. Amazingly the man stopped. He gazed at me with absent minded eyes and smiled slowly. The effect was more sinister than reassuring. I squeezed my eyes shut. Oh god, I’m going to die I thought. I clenched my fists, praying that he would finish me of quickly. I flinched as something wet and sticky touched my face. The man screeched hysterically in my ear, deafening me. A clatter and then...silence.

Nervously I peeked out of one eye.

Nothing.

He was gone. Only a dead girl, a knife and I pool of slowly drying blood proved that I hadn’t imagined it. I breathed a sigh of relief and began to turn away. Hopefully someone else will find it all. I caught a glimpse of myself in the blade of the knife and moaned softly. Picking it up, I could see the dishevelled reflection of myself on the metal. The madman had wiped blood down my cheek and, I fumed silently, in my hair! I looked horrendous.

The wailing of a siren pierced the air.
“Crap!” I cursed my bad luck. A police car lit up the dim alley and two men got out. I gasped. One of them was holding a gun.
“Put your hands up and step away from the body.” My eyes bugged, was he talking to me?
“Drop the weapon where I can see it and put your hands on your head.” I cringed as I realised that I was still holding the bloody knife. I flung it to the ground with disgust.

“I know this looks bad, but you have to believe me when I say that I didn’t-” I began only to be cut off by the policeman.
“Put your hands up or we will be forced to detain you.” I almost choked.
“B-but I didn’t do it.” I whispered, willing them to hear me. They ignored me.

I sensed rather than heard the click of the safety catch coming of the gun. They were going to shoot me! I began to tremble.
“Don’t move,” the other policeman instructed, “or I will be forced to shoot.”

So I did what any human being would do in my situation.

I ran.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Running is the answer when you have a dead end place to go. A very fast pace chapter. Thank you for sharing the story. I hope to read more. Please sent read request. A excellent chapter.
Coyote