Capable
"If there's one thing you learn on this job, it's that human beings are capable of anything."
Chapter One: Anger
I saw them in the grocery store. The little girl was adorable, pulling on her mom's sleeve to show her a favorite cartoon character on a cereal box. But the mother just glared at the girl and grabbed her arm, yelling, "Is that how we behave in public?!" The poor little girl. She didn't deserve that. Not from someone who was suppose to love her unconditionally. Not from anyone.
So when they left the store, I followed them home. The mother needed to stop abusing her child! Someone had to do something, and that someone was me.
The mother had a red sports car. What kind of family car is that? They pulled up to a small gray house and I could see that the mother was still angry. The little girl, with tears running down her tiny cheeks, looked up at her mother and asked her something.
In response, the mother screeched, "Get in your room and stay there!" She slammed the front door behind them.
I pulled on some gloves, walked up to the door, and rang the bell. She answered with a smile on her face.
"Yes?"
I gave her some bull about selling kitchenware and she immediately welcomed me into her home. She showed me around her kitchen, and I nodded and commented at the appropriate times. I took one of the knives when she wasn't looking. She led me out into the living room and when she turned to look at me again, I grabbed her.
"Your daughter deserves better," I growled, and held up the knife. A look of pure shock crossed her face, and she pulled away from me, grabbing for the drawer handle of a nearby end table. But I was stronger than her.
Carefully, easily, I held her still while I cut out her tongue.
"You'll never be able to yell at your daughter again," I said, leaving her writhing on the floor.
I pulled open the drawer on the end table, and sure enough, I found a gun.
"You should really lock this up," I said, taking aim and shooting her through the heart.
I replaced the gun and left through the front door. I went home, changed, and destroyed the evidence, just in time to get to work. I drove fast, but didn't speed. It wouldn't do to get pulled over now.
I turned into the parking lot and found a space quickly. It was all too easy. I pushed through the doors marked 'Las Vegas Crime Lab' and wondered when it would get called in.
"If there's one thing you learn on this job, it's that human beings are capable of anything."
Chapter One: Anger
I saw them in the grocery store. The little girl was adorable, pulling on her mom's sleeve to show her a favorite cartoon character on a cereal box. But the mother just glared at the girl and grabbed her arm, yelling, "Is that how we behave in public?!" The poor little girl. She didn't deserve that. Not from someone who was suppose to love her unconditionally. Not from anyone.
So when they left the store, I followed them home. The mother needed to stop abusing her child! Someone had to do something, and that someone was me.
The mother had a red sports car. What kind of family car is that? They pulled up to a small gray house and I could see that the mother was still angry. The little girl, with tears running down her tiny cheeks, looked up at her mother and asked her something.
In response, the mother screeched, "Get in your room and stay there!" She slammed the front door behind them.
I pulled on some gloves, walked up to the door, and rang the bell. She answered with a smile on her face.
"Yes?"
I gave her some bull about selling kitchenware and she immediately welcomed me into her home. She showed me around her kitchen, and I nodded and commented at the appropriate times. I took one of the knives when she wasn't looking. She led me out into the living room and when she turned to look at me again, I grabbed her.
"Your daughter deserves better," I growled, and held up the knife. A look of pure shock crossed her face, and she pulled away from me, grabbing for the drawer handle of a nearby end table. But I was stronger than her.
Carefully, easily, I held her still while I cut out her tongue.
"You'll never be able to yell at your daughter again," I said, leaving her writhing on the floor.
I pulled open the drawer on the end table, and sure enough, I found a gun.
"You should really lock this up," I said, taking aim and shooting her through the heart.
I replaced the gun and left through the front door. I went home, changed, and destroyed the evidence, just in time to get to work. I drove fast, but didn't speed. It wouldn't do to get pulled over now.
I turned into the parking lot and found a space quickly. It was all too easy. I pushed through the doors marked 'Las Vegas Crime Lab' and wondered when it would get called in.