A Writing Workshop Writing Sample (Right!?!)
(NOTE: Scary Writing Samples is a series of excerpts created by me and others for use in writing workshops. I needed excerpts that weren’t by “real people” so participants would feel free to say what they really thought. If you wish to use any of these as a sample in a writing workshop or other creative endeavor, please contact me first! This one in particular was for training contest judges.)
Detective Wolf Rivers stared at the naked, slashed body of the dead woman on the tarmac and wondered where he’d put his smokes. Gross blood pooled in a scarlett puddle on the ground and there were no tire tracks. It was nearly midnight. The CSI team has found no fingerprints or identifying information on the woman to say who killed her. But she couldn’t have been dead long because steam still rose from her body in the cold rain.
A crowd from the airport gathered around the yellow police tape. His partner, Detective O’Malley, from a long time family of Irish cops wrote down notes in his notebook. They had been partners for years and had learned to trust each others instincts. Even though O’Malley didn’t know everything there was to know about Wolf’s secrets. If he had just been a beautiful woman, Wolf would have had it made, only he had little use for women, except when they had information he needed. Or maybe a cigarrete. He always needed a cigarrette when he was upset by a terrible crime like this one. Where were his smokes?
Other uniformed policemen and some airport security stood around and kept the onlookers from violating the crime scene. Like this poor woman had been violated.
“Let me go!” a hysterical female voice cried out. “That’s my sister!”
“Let her through,” he said, instantly suspicious she should just happen to show. It wouldn’t be the first time sister had murdered sister. The vertical slashes in the dead woman’s throat spoke of great force. He wasn’t sure the slight, waiflike, distraught female being led up to him by a uniform was capable of such force. Her long, blonde curls hung in tangled waves over full breasts. Her body was lush yet too delicate for this kind of violence. She had beestinged lips and blue eyes big enough to drown in. Only he wasn’t in the mood to go skinnydipping.
“You say this is your sister?” he ground out harshly. “It is funny you would just show up. Did you do this to her?” She was a little thing, barely 5’2” except in those ridiculous heels women insisted on wearing. He didn’t understand women. Not even after all his years of experience with life.
“Oh god no, my twin sister!” she cried out. She tried to fall to her knees but it would have gotten blood on her cream colored Anne Taylor trousers and the cop holding her made her stay on her feat. How could this man, this tall brooding man with the piercing, mysterious eyes just ask if she done this without so much as a by your leave? She had loved her sister even though her sister had been the black shep of the family.
“No, I don’t know” Cara said. “I last saw her two hours ago when she was headed for the little girls room. We were here to pick up a package that her fiance in Venezuela mailed through air post. The plane was late. And then she disappeared!” Cara tried to end a big sob and failed. They waited for her to get a grip. A cop patted her shoulder, but she got no sympathy from the arrogant, sexy detective. He had a Native American appearance, wide cheekbones, his hair cropped short. His nose looked like it might of been broken. He wouldn’t of looked out of place in a biker bar in different clothes than his rumpled suit. In short he looked dangerous.
She couldn’t believe this was happening. Her poor sister, though they had been estranged for years, was dead on the tarmac bleeding her life away and the detective thought she might have done it. Yet she couldn’t help herself, she felt a stir of something deep within when he pierced her with his brooding gaze, like he thought she knew more than she was telling. She bet he looked at all the girls like that, it was his job after all.
“Did you get your package?” he asked. “What is in it?” He knew it could be drugs, coming in from Venezuela. Which would make this some kind of gang hit. He got on his walkie talkie and had them bring in the drug dogs for flight 564 out of Atlanta.
Turning away, Cara said “I…I didn’t get it.” She wondered what had happened to the package. At the counter, they told her it had been picked up. They didn’t know who. The person who gave it out had gone home for the night. She thought Sara had gotten it but how could she have, when she lay here dead on the tarmac like a broken child’s doll?
The detective turned to the man with the glasses in the white coat, she guessed it was the coronor. “What did you say her name was?”
“Sara Lytton” Cara said. “She was 25 years old this June. We both were, we are twins. Our parents are dead from a car wreck when we were only eight. We only had each other in the world, except her boyfriend Marcus. She thought he was sending her an engagement ring! Now we’ll never know if she was to be married and turn her life around!” Her voice broke on a sob.
The detective and his partner took her away from the body of her sister on the tarmac. “Miss Lytton– it is Miss, right?” said the red-headed partner. She wondered why he was trying to flirt with her at a time like this? He stepped her to close and she stepped away.
“Yes” she answered in a shaky voice.
“You must come down to the station house and answer questions. I would like to take you there myself and then maybe out for some coffee.” He looked so hopeful. Cara didn’t understand why guys always hit on her, an innocent who had been raised by their old fashioned grandparents and sent to boarding school. She had no idea of the appeal of her lush body and naturally blonde hair. And how men loved to tarnish that innocence with their lusts. “Do you know if your sister had enemies?”
“No, she was nice! I mean, she could get wild but everyone liked her. Nobody would do this to her, she was everyone’s friend, not like me” she cried out bitterly. “I don’t understand!”
Wolf tilted Cara Lytton’s chin up so she had to meet his eyes. He had to make her understand this was no game. He insisted, “We’ll find the guy who did this.” Not sure why he felt the need to comfort this woman. Vampires like him had no feelings and yet, he was feeling for her. It could not be so he ignored it. What he knew for sure was it had to be a guy who did this or a very mad woman with great upper body strength. Nobody deserved this way to die.
Just then a woman in the crowd screamed “He’s got a gun!” and a shot rang out, taking his partner O’Malley by surprise in the shoulder.
“Down Everybody!” Wolf shoved Cara to the ground behind him to make the smallest target and chased the shooter. But the shadowy figure in a plain brown coat was too fast even for his inhuman speed and disappeared behind some airplanes into the mechanical hanger.
Wolf rallied the uniformed policemen to search the hanger by fisting his hand and pointing three fingers down. He walkie talkied for reinforcements. The shooter could have been the same one who brutally murdered Sara Lytton on the tarmac. With that kind of speed he would be dagerous, maybe even inhuman. Maybe the killer thought they were getting too close to some clues. Or maybe the shooter was after something else entirely.
When he got back his partner O’Malley, was being carried off by the paramedics, flashing lights making his Irish face look even redder than the pain made it look. He was going to be okay but it was never any fun to take a 9 mm to the shoulder. Wolf had it happen once, a woman had been the one who did it.
He guessed this took Cara Lytton out of the running for suspect. He couldn’t shake the fact that the two girls were twins and that this might be some kind of mix-up. “We’re going to have to take you to a safe house” the detective growled out. He had forgotten his need for a smoke as an unexpected protectiveness rose up in him. He spend his life protecting the weaker humans but never got personal. It was just his job to make sure the humans didn’t find out about the vampire crimes by sweeping them under the rug.
“I’ll be fine” she argued. She didn’t want to be locked in a safe house with his man! His dark looks and chiseled jaw turned her insides to molten lava and her knees to water. Not a good combination because if the two substances met they made black, ugly rocks.
“Don’t fight me on this.” Again he took her by the chin and stared into her eyes. His smoky breath washed over her. He smelled her sweet pulse like nectar of flowers in the summer sun he never got to see, his incisors lengthened with the urge to taste her. He tried to hide them. He only dined on criminals and cold blood bags not, innocent humans. “I know what I’m doing. You’ll be thafe with me.” He would protect her with his unlife.
Yet the way his black gaze devored her Cara wondered, would her heart be safe.
© 2005 Jody Wallace