Ratta-tat-tat-tat Ratta-tat-tat-tat

Rain tapped against a metal shingled tin roof. The sound was a soft delicate chores that created a rhythm of beautiful tones. The melody was enchanting to the listener. The power of sleep is what the light droplets possessed.

Ratta-tat-tat-tat Ratta-tat-tat-tat

The soft song of the drops of water was cut off for a moment when a bolt of lightning struck outside the window that let the living room view the front garden and street. The flash of light lasted only a few moments before darkness claimed it as it's own. Pitch Black was the master of the night once more. The tap of rain resounded through the quiet house again.

Then again, another flash of light struck the window, illumination the small room of the equally cozy house that stood in a quiet neighborhood. What was seen on the once blue carpet was something that the human eye could not unsee. A crimson spot was growing on the light blue carpet turning it different shades of purple anyplace the horrific liquid touched.

Another flash made the room glow, making the owner of the crimson liquid be seen through the thick neverending darkness. Their body twisted into a strange position. Feet and legs tangled together. Arms splayed out on both sides of the lifeless shell. The sight could have been peaceful if it was not for the horrific sight that would fall upon the head of the poor victim.

A mix of tones of the thick red liquid poured from the wound on the temple of the older woman. Her once silver hair dyed scarlet from her own blood that flowed from the laceration on the old woman's temple. The murder weapon lying behind the woman's head.

A gun...With the grip dripping with the crimson substance.

_______________________________________________________________

Tap-tap-tap

The sound of rubber souls of black combat boots resounded almost silently in the siren filled air of the cool morning. The once quiet neighborhood was glowing with the flashing red and blue lights and the early morning sun. Yellow tape cut off the crowd from the small house that held the crime scene inside.

"Mornin' Officer Harris," a young rookies said cheerfully before yawning. The young male held up the yellow police tape to let his superior enter the scene. With the swish of the brown hair, the homicide detective bent under the lifted tape before starting their journey to the destination inside the small cottage.

Tap-tap-tap

Their boots quickly stepped up the rock steps that lead to the wooden porch. They quickly stepped inside, the police swarming the house, before stopping in their tracks when they reached their desired place.

"This one makes the 7th this month," The voice of a bored female came from the detective that just entered the marvelous scene of blood and violence. Her green eyes were clouded with exhaustion and stress. Her long brown hair was clipped up out of her face provide no hassle of observing the scene in front of her.

"Looks to be the same person seeing as they all have the repeating death blow to the temple of the victim," A male cop sighed sipping his coffee as he crouched next to the body. With a rubber-gloved hand, he turned the head of the old woman making the wound glisten in the sunlight.

The young woman detective shook her head before crouching next to the man. She was about to retort with the statistics of how many people die from blows to the head but was cut off when she caught sight of something written in blood next to the body.

'Impure'

"Hey Josh," Officer Harris called to the crime scene tech that was examining the head of the murdered woman. He looked up at the woman before averting his gaze to the message written next to the fallen hand of the bludgeoned woman.

"What does that even mean," The tech mumbled turning his head to look at the writing from a different angle. The woman shrugged before going on with the investigation of the house. The case was losing its leads and the person responsible for these happenings was slipping through the crack of their fingers. They were going to disappear like sand in the wind. This murder was going to be their last...

_______________________________________________________________

Smack-Smack-Smack

"Guilty!!" The judge called making the once silent courtroom go into applause. Half were cheering from the victory of the charge and the other half were weeping from the loss of their son, nephew, best friend, and cousin. The family and friends were crying with each other and cops were congratulation each other, all except one.

She stood back from the group with her arms crossed over her chest, making her white button up shirt crease and wrinkle a bit under the pressure of her arms. She observed the courtroom with a blank expression on her face. She scanned the courtroom with hard eyes that contrasted to her usual bored or happy ones. There was something else behind them.

Tap-Tap-Tap

The sound of leather shoes broke her hardened stare at the jury. Her eyes once icy eyes were now warm and happy. Her once straight lips were twisted into a thoughtful smile. Her whole demeanor had changed once the person started to approach.

"Glad to have him off the streets," Josh smiled, standing in front of Officer Harris. His hands were stuffed into his pockets in a laidback manner. He had lop-sided smile fitted comfortably to his face and true happiness showed in his eyes. "Now the city can rest easy tonight, right Jayden?"

Something flashed in the young woman's eyes. Something that was expressed as anger. She tsked at the older detective throwing her head back a little bit in disgust at his comment. She glared softly at him before turning her back to him.

"This city will never be safe as long as the corrupt are alive," She left. She left a confused detective and a conflicted room of people. She left a screaming man being pulled into the back. He was screaming:

"I was framed!!"

_______________________________________________________________

Ratta-tat-tat-tat Ratta-tat-tat-tat

Rain tapped against a metal shingled tin roof. The sound was a soft delicate chores that created a rhythm of beautiful tones. The melody was enchanting to the listener. The power of sleep is what the light droplets possessed.

Ratta-tat-tat-tat Ratta-tat-tat-tat

The soft song of the drops of small water was cut off for a moment when a bolt of lightning struck outside the window that let the living room view the front garden and street. The flash of light lasted only a few moments before darkness claimed it as it's own. Pitch Black was the master of the night once more. The tap of rain resounded through the quiet house again.

Then again, another flash of light struck the window, illumination the small room of the equally cozy house that stood in a quiet neighborhood. What was seen on the once grey carpet was something that the human eye could not unsee. A crimson spot was growing on the light grey carpet turning it different shades of black and red any place the horrific liquid touched.

Another flash made the room glow, making the owner of the crimson liquid be seen through the thick neverending darkness. Their body twisted into a strange position. Feet and legs tangled together. Arms splayed out on both sides of the lifeless shell. The sight could have been peaceful if it was not for the horrific sight that would fall upon the head of the poor victim.

A mix of tones of the thick red liquid poured from the wound on the temple of the middle-aged. His once dirty blonde hair dyed scarlet from the observed blood that flowed from the laceration on the man's temple.

"Impure must leave this earth," A bored female voice said through the thick darkness of the room. Another flash of light showed the breathing body of a young female sitting comfortably in a chair. A scotch glass on the table next to them. The rim having a bright crimson red stain of lipstick smudged on it.

Another flash of light illuminated the room. The light reflected by long wavy brown hair that flowed over the female's back, tips barely touching the arms of the chair. The light from the bolt of electricity made a pair of crazed green eyes glow in the darkness along with a police and a name tag that lay next to the scotch glass.

Homicide department

Officer Jayden Harris

"Or everything will go down with them..."

~The End~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Word Count: 1459

I hope you enjoyed my first short story. Plz leave a comment I would loved to hard from you!

Bye my cupcakes!!