Escaping the Chase
The room is quiet and dark. Only a sliver of fading light shines through from the outside. It falls on cylinders of cool water, reflecting the dim hues around it. Through the beam of orange light, dark flowing objects begin to move with in the water. Fish.
A scream pierces the silence and cries of help send the fish into a vigorous dance. In the room a struggle has begun.
A moment passes. The fish stop dancing. The screams cease coming. The fading light floods into the room as the Venetian blinds are thrust open. The window is yanked up. A person glances around, then jumps.
***************************************************************************************************************
Red and blue lights flash through the obsidian night. Sirens break the silence of the small dimly lit neighborhood as emergency vehicles move onto the street where awoken neighbors have emerged from their homes to see what's happening. Police hold the crowd back as the scene is secured. More cars move into the light that ricochets off the houses. The neighbors press against the police tape as they exchange looks of fear and apprehension.
Azure and Scarlet mirror each other's moves, fighting through the glass. Their movements are fluid and beautiful; graceful, and precise. With the glass dividing them there is no harm. This gorgeous display of color is their nature.
Five investigators move to the door of the dark two-story house.
"Police say the scene is secure. We have three bodies in the house and a broken window on the first floor. It looks like the point of entry. Don't miss a thing." The investigators split two inside, three outside.
Flashlights are produced and the search begins. Anything that looks like evidence is to be collected. Walking head down in the dim light, the investigators resemble lost souls looking for the path they once knew before.
The waters settle as darkness surrounds the fish. A cold breeze drifts through the open window. Light from the vehicles outside barely reaches the room. The soft beams silhouette the bodies of the fish. They move slowly like mourners through a graveyard of memories.
The two investigators in the house follow the beam of the flashlight around the front room. A light switch is found. Nothing happens. The only light they have is the light they bring. They continue the search in silence. Somehow knowing what they will find, but unprepared just the same. Every case is new.
Scarlet shoots up through the water stopping at the surface, just breaking it, to take in air. On his way back down, a fish opposite him through the glass meets him; he is being challenged to a quick waltz. Scarlet accepts, and as a flash of silver-blue slices through the dim lighted water, the dance begins.
The flashlight moves to the stairway where crimson blood has collected beneath a fallen body. A pulsating flash lights the room as the camera goes off. The gruesome sight is forever imprinted on paper. But though the picture will fade, it will be forever remembered in the mind.
The light of a car driving by flashes into the windows of the house. For a brief moment the colors of the fish are seen. And just as quickly, darkness swallows the light leaving only shadows.
Slowly the two investigators carefully make their way past the still body of an adult male. A tear glistens in the dark. There will be an empty desk tomorrow.
Outside a glint of silver peeks its way through crushed bushes smirking up at one of the three investigators.
"Over here." The call brings a partner over.
Specks of red reflect the strobe flash of a camera. The weapon has been found. The victims' assailant is leaving a trail.
A gloved hand reaches down and carefully plucks the knife from its leafy bed.
"We have a weapon." The partner nods in agreement. Smiles dare to creep across their faces. A major clue is found.
Upstairs, light shines through a door, but there is nothing. No sign of struggle, no sign of violence.
The investigators continue to walk down the hall searching every room as the go. Another victim. Another picture. Presumably the parents room. The mother lies on the floor. Barely a struggle. The husband must have gone down stairs to check on the noise, only to be met by the knife-wielding murderer. The windows in here are closed. Blood soaks the carpet. They leave the room; sorrow, not clouding their job.
At the end of the hallway by the last room a lump blocks the path, a third victim: stabbed once in the back; her throat slashed. The last breath never reached her lungs. The camera is pulled out once again.
Red lips part the small surface of the contained water. They slowly drift back under as the fish moves back to the depths and settles to rest upon the onyx rocks. Besides it, in another vase a silver-blue fish - almost a mirror to the red one - shifts gracefully through the water.
The two investigators move into the room that the girl seemingly came out of. The room looks as if a tornado ripped through it. In this room there was a struggle, and a violent one at that. Blood covers the bed. The bedside lamp smashed. She was stabbed in the back while lying in bed. Then she fought back and tried to run. But the killer stopped her in the doorway.
The investigators look out of the open window. It's too cold to have been sleeping with it wide open. Looking down, below them, their partners hold up a bloody knife over a freshly crushed bush. The investigators turn back into the room. They scan at the walls covered movie posters. They look into the vanity mirror, smirking faces of friends and the deceased staring back. They face a desk, scattered with homework and books, crowned by seven bowls and seven fish.
The investigators turn towards one another. The man speaks,
"Bettas. Fighting fish. They have to be isolated or else they will kill each other."
He turns back to the fish, his partner still looking at him.
The room is quiet and dark. Only a sliver of fading light shines through from the outside. It falls on cylinders of cool water, reflecting the dim hues around it. Through the beam of orange light, dark flowing objects begin to move with in the water. Fish.
A scream pierces the silence and cries of help send the fish into a vigorous dance. In the room a struggle has begun.
A moment passes. The fish stop dancing. The screams cease coming. The fading light floods into the room as the Venetian blinds are thrust open. The window is yanked up. A person glances around, then jumps.
***************************************************************************************************************
Red and blue lights flash through the obsidian night. Sirens break the silence of the small dimly lit neighborhood as emergency vehicles move onto the street where awoken neighbors have emerged from their homes to see what's happening. Police hold the crowd back as the scene is secured. More cars move into the light that ricochets off the houses. The neighbors press against the police tape as they exchange looks of fear and apprehension.
Azure and Scarlet mirror each other's moves, fighting through the glass. Their movements are fluid and beautiful; graceful, and precise. With the glass dividing them there is no harm. This gorgeous display of color is their nature.
Five investigators move to the door of the dark two-story house.
"Police say the scene is secure. We have three bodies in the house and a broken window on the first floor. It looks like the point of entry. Don't miss a thing." The investigators split two inside, three outside.
Flashlights are produced and the search begins. Anything that looks like evidence is to be collected. Walking head down in the dim light, the investigators resemble lost souls looking for the path they once knew before.
The waters settle as darkness surrounds the fish. A cold breeze drifts through the open window. Light from the vehicles outside barely reaches the room. The soft beams silhouette the bodies of the fish. They move slowly like mourners through a graveyard of memories.
The two investigators in the house follow the beam of the flashlight around the front room. A light switch is found. Nothing happens. The only light they have is the light they bring. They continue the search in silence. Somehow knowing what they will find, but unprepared just the same. Every case is new.
Scarlet shoots up through the water stopping at the surface, just breaking it, to take in air. On his way back down, a fish opposite him through the glass meets him; he is being challenged to a quick waltz. Scarlet accepts, and as a flash of silver-blue slices through the dim lighted water, the dance begins.
The flashlight moves to the stairway where crimson blood has collected beneath a fallen body. A pulsating flash lights the room as the camera goes off. The gruesome sight is forever imprinted on paper. But though the picture will fade, it will be forever remembered in the mind.
The light of a car driving by flashes into the windows of the house. For a brief moment the colors of the fish are seen. And just as quickly, darkness swallows the light leaving only shadows.
Slowly the two investigators carefully make their way past the still body of an adult male. A tear glistens in the dark. There will be an empty desk tomorrow.
Outside a glint of silver peeks its way through crushed bushes smirking up at one of the three investigators.
"Over here." The call brings a partner over.
Specks of red reflect the strobe flash of a camera. The weapon has been found. The victims' assailant is leaving a trail.
A gloved hand reaches down and carefully plucks the knife from its leafy bed.
"We have a weapon." The partner nods in agreement. Smiles dare to creep across their faces. A major clue is found.
Upstairs, light shines through a door, but there is nothing. No sign of struggle, no sign of violence.
The investigators continue to walk down the hall searching every room as the go. Another victim. Another picture. Presumably the parents room. The mother lies on the floor. Barely a struggle. The husband must have gone down stairs to check on the noise, only to be met by the knife-wielding murderer. The windows in here are closed. Blood soaks the carpet. They leave the room; sorrow, not clouding their job.
At the end of the hallway by the last room a lump blocks the path, a third victim: stabbed once in the back; her throat slashed. The last breath never reached her lungs. The camera is pulled out once again.
Red lips part the small surface of the contained water. They slowly drift back under as the fish moves back to the depths and settles to rest upon the onyx rocks. Besides it, in another vase a silver-blue fish - almost a mirror to the red one - shifts gracefully through the water.
The two investigators move into the room that the girl seemingly came out of. The room looks as if a tornado ripped through it. In this room there was a struggle, and a violent one at that. Blood covers the bed. The bedside lamp smashed. She was stabbed in the back while lying in bed. Then she fought back and tried to run. But the killer stopped her in the doorway.
The investigators look out of the open window. It's too cold to have been sleeping with it wide open. Looking down, below them, their partners hold up a bloody knife over a freshly crushed bush. The investigators turn back into the room. They scan at the walls covered movie posters. They look into the vanity mirror, smirking faces of friends and the deceased staring back. They face a desk, scattered with homework and books, crowned by seven bowls and seven fish.
The investigators turn towards one another. The man speaks,
"Bettas. Fighting fish. They have to be isolated or else they will kill each other."
He turns back to the fish, his partner still looking at him.