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Found 2 results

  1. serah

    Promotion

    The sky was dark, and broken. Just like the world it covered. Nobody ever thinks of death, not really. We imagine it as just something that happens to other people, something distant and far away. Mass shootings, car accidents, racially motivated crimes. These are just items on the news; something to distract us while we eat our bleeter burgers. It was a cold morning when she died. The sun couldn't have been bothered to keep her warm while she expired on the pavement. We like to imaging our deaths as something we have a say in,-- something we get to decide. The truth is, Jane had no more idea this was going to happen than she knew what to get for lunch. Death waits for nobody. Death is not a luxury, or a gift. Death is a thief in the night, stealing currency we know not how to spend. Late into the night, Jane was working a case. Not unusual for her, as she had pushed any inkling of a social life away along with her fiance when she accepted her promotion. "This will change everything for you, Jane." The words ringed in her head for months afterwards; her Director had barely spoken to her during her entire four years in that agency outside of half hearted 'hello's and weekly meetings, but was suddenly interested in promoting her to special agent. A part of her, the part that doesn't allow anything altruistic to exist in her world, weighed the possibility that her promotion may have just been a stunt to add diveristy. She ignored it, because it conflicted with her forced sense of self confidence and duty. Besides, none of the usual boxes were ticked; Her mother was only half Japanese and there was already a woman in that department. She pulled into the lot, her Bravado Buffalo rumbling quietly as she brought it to heel in the gravel space close to the road next to the house. The old structure was shaped like an arrow head, though the vagrants no doubt occupying it were anything but sharp. The many exterior windows appeared boarded up, across all three floors, using cheap particle board and trash bags, the sign of a real classy establishment. Jane took hold of her car door handle, keeping her eyes fixed on the front of the building. This was bound to be just the latest in a series of false leads into the kidnapping of an Army Officer's infant, Jessica Taylor. Since the media began spinning their own nonsense about the case, dozens of false leads pour in every day. All we really had was a missing baby, some worthless CCTV footage, and a rightfully hysterical mother. Usually with these cases before you can say 'Sibling Father Mother Aunt Uncle Grandparent Neighbor', you've found your kidnapper.-- But this one was different. A true crime of opportunity; snatched in broad daylight by an unknown woman in a shopping centre. This being the second year since she started working the case, it was beginning to occur to Jane that she may have been assigned it as a cruel form of punishment, forced to pursue leads that go nowhere for the rest of her career. The thought was pushed to the back of her mind, pulling the door handle and pushing the door away from her with a firm thrust. The door creaked quietly in protest, as if a quiet screaming reminder that her long nights pursuing leads have prevented her from routine maintenance. Her boots dug into the gravel as she stepped out of the safety of her steel horse. Her gaze remained on the building. She approached the door, making sure to check the surrounding windows one more time before she reached out with two fingers towards the broken object barely resembling an entry way; she pushed on the door, it letting out a wooden whine as the old boards gave way to her minimal effort. The moon flooded into the large space, illuminating the room as the only source of light cast on the sea of trash and building debris. Jane quickly scanned the room, drawing her pistol from her hip and flicking off the safety. Her boots clacking against the old tile as she took a few uneasy steps towards the other side of the room. Her biggest mistake was not reaching her flashlight instead; she'd have seen the shadow of the creature stalking her from behind the door. Before she knew what was happening, Jane was struck over the head with a baseball bat; rendering her completely powerless in a matter of moments. As the tile rushed up to meet her, Jane tensed up and squeezed the trigger. A round erupted into the room, the muzzle becoming a spotlight for her attacker, revealing the wretched woman, and the bullet an elusive set piece missing it's mark. Her body rendered paralyzed from the blow to her head. A simple mistake was going to cost her everything. Jane blinked, and it was as if the earth moved underneath her. She was now outside, being dragged into her car. She craned her throbbing head upwards, trying to steal a glimpse of her attacker as she hauled her into the backseat of her vehicle like a postal worker does a cheap package. Again, she blinked. This time, the woman was circling around towards the road to get to the driver's seat. She looked down, her hands bound with her own pair of hancuffs. Before she could feel sorry for herself, a loud 'THWUMP' and the sound of tires screaming off into the night broke her train of thought. She slowly raised her head above the window, squinting into the early morning darkness. Her would-be attacker's lifeless body lay sprawled in the middle of the street, her face gently illuminated by the dim light of a rising sun; broken and twisted beautifully, as if painted by the hand of death himself. The sound akin only to a wounded animal's last breaths emitting quietly from the mangled mess. A driver hadn't seen them as they stepped into the road, and they paid the price. She had evaded federal agents for over two years, only to be struck down by an inattentive driver. The sky was dark, and broken. Just like the world it covered. Nobody ever thinks of death, not really. We imagine it as just something that happens to other people, something distant and far away. It was a cold morning when she died. The sun couldn't have been bothered to keep her warm while she expired on the pavement.
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