Categories > Original > Drama > Shiver
Chapter 2
He said he wouldn't hurt her. He had promised. And yet she sat here, bound and broken. Her grief and agony had dissolved hours ago. Walking. She had to because her friend was late picking her up. It was foggy. The shadow was there. She never saw him coming. When she awoke, she realized that she was blindfolded and tied against what felt like a post. He had muttered grimly about the Thursday paper being late.
Two days. I've been gone only that long? I need to find a way out.
"You're not leaving," his voice had come out of nowhere. "I can't have that." She heard his footsteps; they sounded like thunder against the tiled floor. In one swift motion her head was turned to the right and she could smell the liquor on his breath. "I could never let any of you leave."
"Never...let..." her mouth felt dry suddenly. Something was disturbing her about that sentence, and it wasn't just the way he had said it.
"You're all mine." She could feel his tongue against the shell of her ear, as she yanked away he grabbed her long hair and pulled her head back. "Forever." he whispered. She felt the blindfold slip some and her eye was able to focus in on the object to her left, as her head fell that way from the man's slack grip, her stomach turned over. He had meant every word.
There in the middle of the floor was a woman, long silky hair too thin, blue eyes staring blankly, pale skin taking on a yellowish color, and her perfect mouth open in an unheard scream. Nothing hid the mangled arm, or even the bloody wound deep in her chest, produced only by the blade of a dagger.
*
She leaned against her partner's car and looked around at the yellow tape that secured the crime scene. It had only been a few hours since she had been taken into questioning by the police in the next town, then she had recieved the call to come out here and investigate the findings. She knew full well that her own would have never pulled her inide the stations, in front of more then twenty people, and shove her into a tiny office, demanding that she talk. She shook her head lightly, her long wavy brown hair falling against the deep blue tank top she wore as she moved to stand just outside the tape, glancing about; the grass was discolored by her right foot, and the air smelled stale, otherwise the area would have been completely normal from afar, if not for the man hunched over some feet from Sarah's left side, peering closely at something on the ground. "Damn, they really did a number on this one, whoever they are." Her partner stood beside her and frowned. She was surprised because he was a solemn type of man. "Jesus Christ," he added quietly with a grimace.
"You can say that again." She nodded firmly and started to breathe through her mouth as the stench of decay caught her off guard. She squeezed her eyes shut and stepped back. Why did I take this job? As she backed up, someone touched her shoulder and she froze.
"We shouldn't have brought you out here, I forget how queasy you get." He smiled firmly and ran his hands through his blonde hair, his blue eyes searching. "Maybe we should go." He went to grab her arm and her eyes narrowed defensively.
"We can't. Not yet." Sarah turned back towards the body of the young girl, ducked under the tape and stepped forward, bent down and touched the girl's hair. "She wants to tell us her story." Sarah replied quietly to herself and then stood again. She turned back around and frowned, her mind trying to sort out the images she had just seen.
"What the hell are you doing over there?" Her partner called, apparently he was irritated that he had to be here, in this place, with that dead girl. "Sarah, let's go. There's nothing more we can do."
"Yes there is," she whispered, staring at him slowly. "We can find out why you're so uneasy with this one particular murder."
His face twitched as she walked through the door. She glared at him and moved to go into the bathroom but stopped rather abruptly in front of the antique mirror on her left, there was something under her right eye; it was black and faint, like smeared masscara. "What the hell is that smell?"
"Decomposition," she frowned "there was a murdered girl in the woods near the cemetery." He raised an eyebrow at her and stood up and came to stand next to her.
"You should really take a shower before I touch you at all tonight." He grinned slowly.
"No shit," she muttered before tossing the jacket that she had been carrying at him and stepped inside the bathroom. The Beck's bathroom was simply defined as mavelous from neighbors and even strangers; a rather large marble sink stood against the corner wall, deocrated with a golden faucet in the center, the glass shower stall was to her right. She discarded her clothes and threw them in the hamper before proceeding to turn on the water. Just as she bent down and touched the tap her fingers twitched and she sank to her knees, her arms hanging over the tub, her head resting on the rim.
There was a knock on the door, a bang, and a voice shouting, "Sarah, are you alright?" It was Jamie. He had managed to break off the knob and open the door before he fell next to her, gathering her up tightly in his arms, the towel hanging loosely around her. "Damnit, what the hell happened at that crime scene?" Whatever had taken hold of her there had seeped into her body like a virus and was damaging her now. "Jesus Christ," he needed to get her out of here. He never noticed the strange mark on her skin was becoming more pronounced as he exited the house.
He had been here twice in his entire life. He sat silently and watched them take her away, they muttered about diffierent causes, none of which made him all too comfortable. By the time he had driven here Sarah had started convulsing so terribly that he could barely hold her as he pushed the doors open and went inside. They asked him what was wrong, he only shook his head in response and slid tiredly against the wall. If he stayed very quiet he could faintly hear the beating of his own heart; it was fast and panicked. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. Jamie knew the stress of her work, how tired she was becoming, but it was never this bad. Someone had a good grip on his shoulder and was shaking him lightly, nudging him to this world. He raised his head and blinked. "Is she alright?" He bit his lip and narrowed his eyes.
"What are you doing here? Don't tell me that as a police officer you're concerned for her safety. Hasn't she had enough of you two bullying her?"
"I..." the man stared almost bewildered, his blue eyes flickered slowly. "It's not for you to protect her now. We need to ask her-"
"No. You don't have to ask her anything. You're probably what caused this. She doesn't need to be reminded about what she lost by you bombarding her with questions! Just go. Please." He was trembling now, his fingers twitched and he stepped forward. His eyes were cloudy. "Please," he repeated slowly, almost pleadingly.
"I can't back off now. Do you know what she's hiding about that missing boy, Kain Misturi?"
"Who?" Jamie's eyes widened slightly. She had never mentioned him.
"He was a close friend of Sarah's. He disappeared several months ago and we-" the detective leaned against the wall and eyed Jamie.
"Suspect her?" he finished uncomfortably. "There's no way that she-"
"Could do this? It doesn't seem likely to people who would know her. But, how much do you really know about her?" his suggestion made Jamie's skin tingle suddenly. He looked up.
"She's been my best friend for seven years. Things are kind of complicated for us at the moment. She doesn't need this, not now."
"This is more urgent then your feelings for her." Jin stared at him quietly, his face etched with worry, agrivation, and a very visible pain. "We need to see what she knows about this boy."
"Why are you so intent on finding him?" Jamie asked.
"Because," the man frowned slightly. "we believe that he may be linked to a murder investigation."
"That one Sarah just came from?"
"In a warehouse," Detective Delaney started "there was the body of 18-year-old Samantha Jacobs; she was blindfolded when we found her, with lacirations on her arms and legs, and bruises on her thighs. Then there was the piece of jewelry around her neck, a silver dove, trace evidence concluded that the last to touch that was Kain Misturi."
"This doesn't make sense," Jamie sat down and tangled his fingers in his hair. "the only warehouse is across town, why the hell were you called?"
"Sarah and her partner were busy, let's leave it at that." his lip curled slightly and Jamie felt his stomach clench. Why hadn't she said anything?
"She's not what you think. She's special."
"Of course she is," he sneered. "so special that she would drop everything to take on murderers, rapists, and every bastard known to man? You're living in a fantasy realm. Her job is more important then you. Everything she does is not for you, it's for her, because she knows with this she can make it, she can be worth something."
"You think I don't know that? Who the hell are you to come and tell me this? She risks her neck every damn day to bring peace to this town and I sit up sometimes and wonder if she's going to make it back to me, whether she's lying in a ditch somewhere with a broken bone or a concussion. Do you even know anything about her?" he smirked "Judging from your expression, that's a no. I really think you should go."
In all his years of work he had never encountered such a faithful soul, it sickened him. "You're not in any position to tell me what to do. After all, who are you? Ah, right, a lonely, parentless, and desperate boy trying to fit in." And he was gone before Jamie could utter another word.
"Son of a bitch." He snarled and threw the vase that was on the table by the chairs into the wall. It shattered and he stepped down the hall to her room.
The sun had sunk behind the trees and Jamie was unaware of shadow that stood just outside her door. "Sometimes you just have to die to make others happy, Sarah." he whispered softly and smiled.
He said he wouldn't hurt her. He had promised. And yet she sat here, bound and broken. Her grief and agony had dissolved hours ago. Walking. She had to because her friend was late picking her up. It was foggy. The shadow was there. She never saw him coming. When she awoke, she realized that she was blindfolded and tied against what felt like a post. He had muttered grimly about the Thursday paper being late.
Two days. I've been gone only that long? I need to find a way out.
"You're not leaving," his voice had come out of nowhere. "I can't have that." She heard his footsteps; they sounded like thunder against the tiled floor. In one swift motion her head was turned to the right and she could smell the liquor on his breath. "I could never let any of you leave."
"Never...let..." her mouth felt dry suddenly. Something was disturbing her about that sentence, and it wasn't just the way he had said it.
"You're all mine." She could feel his tongue against the shell of her ear, as she yanked away he grabbed her long hair and pulled her head back. "Forever." he whispered. She felt the blindfold slip some and her eye was able to focus in on the object to her left, as her head fell that way from the man's slack grip, her stomach turned over. He had meant every word.
There in the middle of the floor was a woman, long silky hair too thin, blue eyes staring blankly, pale skin taking on a yellowish color, and her perfect mouth open in an unheard scream. Nothing hid the mangled arm, or even the bloody wound deep in her chest, produced only by the blade of a dagger.
*
She leaned against her partner's car and looked around at the yellow tape that secured the crime scene. It had only been a few hours since she had been taken into questioning by the police in the next town, then she had recieved the call to come out here and investigate the findings. She knew full well that her own would have never pulled her inide the stations, in front of more then twenty people, and shove her into a tiny office, demanding that she talk. She shook her head lightly, her long wavy brown hair falling against the deep blue tank top she wore as she moved to stand just outside the tape, glancing about; the grass was discolored by her right foot, and the air smelled stale, otherwise the area would have been completely normal from afar, if not for the man hunched over some feet from Sarah's left side, peering closely at something on the ground. "Damn, they really did a number on this one, whoever they are." Her partner stood beside her and frowned. She was surprised because he was a solemn type of man. "Jesus Christ," he added quietly with a grimace.
"You can say that again." She nodded firmly and started to breathe through her mouth as the stench of decay caught her off guard. She squeezed her eyes shut and stepped back. Why did I take this job? As she backed up, someone touched her shoulder and she froze.
"We shouldn't have brought you out here, I forget how queasy you get." He smiled firmly and ran his hands through his blonde hair, his blue eyes searching. "Maybe we should go." He went to grab her arm and her eyes narrowed defensively.
"We can't. Not yet." Sarah turned back towards the body of the young girl, ducked under the tape and stepped forward, bent down and touched the girl's hair. "She wants to tell us her story." Sarah replied quietly to herself and then stood again. She turned back around and frowned, her mind trying to sort out the images she had just seen.
"What the hell are you doing over there?" Her partner called, apparently he was irritated that he had to be here, in this place, with that dead girl. "Sarah, let's go. There's nothing more we can do."
"Yes there is," she whispered, staring at him slowly. "We can find out why you're so uneasy with this one particular murder."
His face twitched as she walked through the door. She glared at him and moved to go into the bathroom but stopped rather abruptly in front of the antique mirror on her left, there was something under her right eye; it was black and faint, like smeared masscara. "What the hell is that smell?"
"Decomposition," she frowned "there was a murdered girl in the woods near the cemetery." He raised an eyebrow at her and stood up and came to stand next to her.
"You should really take a shower before I touch you at all tonight." He grinned slowly.
"No shit," she muttered before tossing the jacket that she had been carrying at him and stepped inside the bathroom. The Beck's bathroom was simply defined as mavelous from neighbors and even strangers; a rather large marble sink stood against the corner wall, deocrated with a golden faucet in the center, the glass shower stall was to her right. She discarded her clothes and threw them in the hamper before proceeding to turn on the water. Just as she bent down and touched the tap her fingers twitched and she sank to her knees, her arms hanging over the tub, her head resting on the rim.
There was a knock on the door, a bang, and a voice shouting, "Sarah, are you alright?" It was Jamie. He had managed to break off the knob and open the door before he fell next to her, gathering her up tightly in his arms, the towel hanging loosely around her. "Damnit, what the hell happened at that crime scene?" Whatever had taken hold of her there had seeped into her body like a virus and was damaging her now. "Jesus Christ," he needed to get her out of here. He never noticed the strange mark on her skin was becoming more pronounced as he exited the house.
He had been here twice in his entire life. He sat silently and watched them take her away, they muttered about diffierent causes, none of which made him all too comfortable. By the time he had driven here Sarah had started convulsing so terribly that he could barely hold her as he pushed the doors open and went inside. They asked him what was wrong, he only shook his head in response and slid tiredly against the wall. If he stayed very quiet he could faintly hear the beating of his own heart; it was fast and panicked. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. Jamie knew the stress of her work, how tired she was becoming, but it was never this bad. Someone had a good grip on his shoulder and was shaking him lightly, nudging him to this world. He raised his head and blinked. "Is she alright?" He bit his lip and narrowed his eyes.
"What are you doing here? Don't tell me that as a police officer you're concerned for her safety. Hasn't she had enough of you two bullying her?"
"I..." the man stared almost bewildered, his blue eyes flickered slowly. "It's not for you to protect her now. We need to ask her-"
"No. You don't have to ask her anything. You're probably what caused this. She doesn't need to be reminded about what she lost by you bombarding her with questions! Just go. Please." He was trembling now, his fingers twitched and he stepped forward. His eyes were cloudy. "Please," he repeated slowly, almost pleadingly.
"I can't back off now. Do you know what she's hiding about that missing boy, Kain Misturi?"
"Who?" Jamie's eyes widened slightly. She had never mentioned him.
"He was a close friend of Sarah's. He disappeared several months ago and we-" the detective leaned against the wall and eyed Jamie.
"Suspect her?" he finished uncomfortably. "There's no way that she-"
"Could do this? It doesn't seem likely to people who would know her. But, how much do you really know about her?" his suggestion made Jamie's skin tingle suddenly. He looked up.
"She's been my best friend for seven years. Things are kind of complicated for us at the moment. She doesn't need this, not now."
"This is more urgent then your feelings for her." Jin stared at him quietly, his face etched with worry, agrivation, and a very visible pain. "We need to see what she knows about this boy."
"Why are you so intent on finding him?" Jamie asked.
"Because," the man frowned slightly. "we believe that he may be linked to a murder investigation."
"That one Sarah just came from?"
"In a warehouse," Detective Delaney started "there was the body of 18-year-old Samantha Jacobs; she was blindfolded when we found her, with lacirations on her arms and legs, and bruises on her thighs. Then there was the piece of jewelry around her neck, a silver dove, trace evidence concluded that the last to touch that was Kain Misturi."
"This doesn't make sense," Jamie sat down and tangled his fingers in his hair. "the only warehouse is across town, why the hell were you called?"
"Sarah and her partner were busy, let's leave it at that." his lip curled slightly and Jamie felt his stomach clench. Why hadn't she said anything?
"She's not what you think. She's special."
"Of course she is," he sneered. "so special that she would drop everything to take on murderers, rapists, and every bastard known to man? You're living in a fantasy realm. Her job is more important then you. Everything she does is not for you, it's for her, because she knows with this she can make it, she can be worth something."
"You think I don't know that? Who the hell are you to come and tell me this? She risks her neck every damn day to bring peace to this town and I sit up sometimes and wonder if she's going to make it back to me, whether she's lying in a ditch somewhere with a broken bone or a concussion. Do you even know anything about her?" he smirked "Judging from your expression, that's a no. I really think you should go."
In all his years of work he had never encountered such a faithful soul, it sickened him. "You're not in any position to tell me what to do. After all, who are you? Ah, right, a lonely, parentless, and desperate boy trying to fit in." And he was gone before Jamie could utter another word.
"Son of a bitch." He snarled and threw the vase that was on the table by the chairs into the wall. It shattered and he stepped down the hall to her room.
The sun had sunk behind the trees and Jamie was unaware of shadow that stood just outside her door. "Sometimes you just have to die to make others happy, Sarah." he whispered softly and smiled.
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