(This is just a random fiction that I am writing because I have way too much spare time. Enjoy it if you want. Critiques are good.)
"Another one?" Sighed Detective Gerald M. Buckley, crouching next to a half-decomposed human body. He observed the body carefully, finding what he had been looking for. On the back of the corpse's neck was a small, fingernail-sized cut in the shape of an X. Buckley nodded, stroking his graying beard. "Yeah, it was definitely him alright," he sighed, standing up with a grunt. A police man that had been standing beside the detective rubbed his temples.
"We've been searchin' all of New York for this punk. Yet he keeps slippin' between our fingers... Either he's really good, or the NYPD's losin' their touch," he muttered, sliding a finger over the handle of his pistol. "Er... But don't tell the Chief I said that. I'd lose my job for sure," he said in a low whisper. Though, as quiet as his voice was, it still echoed around the dark, eerie subway tunnels of New York.
Buckley chuckled half-heartedly, seeing that the officer was trying to lighten the mood. "Can do, Will," he said, patting the police man on the back. "Well, I need to head back home. Laura's cooking meatloaf tonight, and I don't really want to miss that," said the Detective. Will frowned.
"Alright..." He didn't like dark places in particular. He never had liked them. Seeing the officer's discomfort, Buckley sighed, stuffing his hands into his trenchcoat jacket.
"Want to come? I'm sure Laura wouldn't mind too much if I brought you," he said warmly. Will blinked, shaking his head.
"No, I have work to do, Gerald. I'll see you tomorrow," he said with a sigh, shuddering slightly. Buckley shrugged and turned around to leave.
"You're a good man, Will. Keep up the good work," he said over his shoulder. Just before he was about to pull up his collar, he heard the police officer whimper and shift uncomfortably. Buckley blinked, turning around to Will. He was ghostly white and his muddy brown eyes were widened to twice their original size.
"Y-you're neck..." Said the officer, pointing at Detective Buckley. Hesitantly, he reached behind his back, touching the back of his neck. A small chill traveled up and down his spine, like a cold fish had just been slapped onto his back. He ran his finger up and down his spine, feeling a small cut. He traced over it to find that it was in the shape of an X.
"...What does this mean...?" Asked Buckley, shuddering. When he looked up, expecting to see the police man, he saw nothing. "Will...? Will, where are you?!" he cried, pulling his gun from the holster. He held it in front of him. But not even that could save him from his cruel fate. His screams echoed through the tunnels, then faded into nothingness. There was no one left in the tunnels but the corpse of Detective Gerald M. Buckley...
And a 7 year old kid.
(Hope you enjoyed it. I'll type up Chapter 1 if ya'll want me to.)
Last edited by General Cheese
on Fri Apr 28, 2006 5:24 pm, edited 3 times in total.