My Inheritance- Chapter 1: A Bloody Christmas
The streets of London were sprinkled with a light dusting of glittering snow and candles twinkled in every window of every building. All appeared to have wide smiles drawn across their faces as they slid down the icy streets. Amongst the disarray of people stood a young reporter, holding the leash of his dog, aptly named Snowy. They were taking in the breathtaking view of the city at Christmas. Tintin's strawberry blonde hair was styled into to his characteristic, irrepressible quiff. He wore a thick scarf over his usual coat which kept out the majority of the cold. However, his cheeks and ears were still tinged pink from the biting, icy air.
Tintin gave up gazing and headed over to a café in search of a warm drink. He felt guilty for leaving Snowy outside, teeth chattering so emptied his drink as promptly as possible.
"Sorry Snowy, I was chilled to the bone" The dog gave a small whimper, but soon perked up as they strode off towards the enormous Christmas tree.
As they stopped to gaze a man ran past, arms flailing and knocking Tintin to the ground. Snowy barked after the man but decided against giving chase. Instead he looked to his master who had pulled himself off the ground and was momentarily brushing of the snow.
"How rude…" he muttered half- heartedly.
Just then a loud scream filled the street and Snowy took cover between Tintin's legs, nearly uprooting his master. Tintin looked over at a large crowd forming in the distance.
"Come on Snowy…"
Snowy followed suit as his master pushed his way through the crowd. A woman was laid in the arms of several men, attempting to re-awaken her. Tintin followed the gazes of most of the shoppers to a large black lump on the road. As he got closer he realised it was a body and rushed to it to search for signs of life seen as no one else seemed able to do it. He checked for a pulse but found none and felt ill as he retracted the hand on the chest finding it coated in a shining, ruby liquid. It was horrifyingly warm against the cold background. He wiped his hand thoroughly on the ground before announcing
"He's dead…no hope" He took a step back before lowering himself onto the curb.
After a while the police finally arrived and checked the man thoroughly, they talked to Tintin as one of them recognised him and turned out to be a somewhat fan. Someone had asked if it was being considered a murder, and all though the authorities assured the crowd it was likely to be an accident, Tintin was sure that there was something sinister behind this death. The man was finally taken away to the morgue and the crowd dispersed, having nothing interesting left to goggle at. Tintin stayed behind though as he noticed a small, black diary left behind in the now greyed snow. He picked up the sodden book and chose to turn to the current page; however, he found it to have been ripped out.
"How odd… it's like he or someone else didn't want anyone to find out what he was up to." He announced to no one in particular.