Creative writing - The Crime?

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The Crime

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Something stirred in the gloomy shadows that seemed to be everywhere in this town. She wasn't quite certain what it was but she was sure she didn't want to find out. She reached into her jacket and withdrew a small black pistol. It fitted snugly into her hand and she felt safe having it with her. After three shots in the trash heap that protected the cowering animal, she felt assured that whatever it was, it was no longer a threat to anyone. With four quick strides she reached the end of the alley where she looked round and returned the pistol to its holster. The sickly hot wind howled round the corner almost knocking her to the floor. In the process she stooped low enough for the light from a nearby streetlight to shine onto her bare left shoulder. Etched into the back of it was a tattoo of an elaborate red serpent. After bracing herself for what was to come, she stepped out into the street.

No sooner had she done so did she regret ever having come to this town. It appeared that the alley wasn't as empty as she had perceived.

Two shots. That's all that it took to literally blow her mind, ensuring that she would never see the light of day again. As the steps of her attacker faded into the distance, a deathly silence settled on that dark alley leaving only a feeling of death as her body slowly began to decay. There it would remain for two days, lifeless, alone. But then, she was -

Part Two - The Mystery

"Freeze! Police!"

Two shots echoed down the alley and struck the attacker flat in the back of the head. She dark brown hair parted only a little to let the deadly bullet strike its target. The victim did not falter and she did not show any pain at the metal projectile that had shattered her fragile existence. Instead she stood lifeless as though hanging in the balance between what her life had been before and what was inevitably to come.

"There's just something missing about this," muttered Harris under his breath.

Paul Harris was about six foot three with short cut blonde hair and eyes that his friends informed him could pierce through anyone he interrogated, something that came in handy in his line of work.

He heard footsteps from behind him as he holstered his weapon but he didn't turn to see who it was.

"Yeah, the third dimension!" shouted Edgar Willis, the armourer.

"You're just saying that because you can't believe that I shot that girl in the head twice from fifty metres!" replied Harris as he turned to face Willis. He felt a twang of guilt pass through his brain but quickly suppressed it before it could worm itself into his conscious mind - one did not do so well in his job if his conscience came into play every time he fired his weapon.

"You shot well but don't get big-headed," cautioned Willis as he approached the girl. When he reached where she stood he turned to Harris and said: "They sure do make these simulations life-like don't they? I still can't believe that it's not real myself, and I'm supposed to be running this place!"

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"If you're supposed to be running this place then why'd you come down here to see a 'lowly trainee'?" joked Harris.

"Not just to compliment you, that's for sure," grinned Willis. He liked Harris but he couldn't quite work out why. He didn't spend enough time with him to get to know him well but yet he still felt like a kind of mentor to the young agent. "The Director wants to see you in his office right now."

"Oh great, another case. I can't wait," said Harris sarcastically as he turned towards the door, which had just appeared, to ...

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