This chapter is graphic and may contain triggering material. I advise that sensitive readers should not read this chapter. I do not condone or encourage any of the violent or heinous acts performed in this chapter. Thank you for any and all views, reviews, favorites and follows.
Her body lay lifeless, her skin that once glowed with happiness had turned cold and pale. The young girl remained whimpering, hanging from the concrete ceiling by her wrists with traumatic events fresh in her mind. Two gunshots had gone off, one embedded in the perpetrator's skull, and the other in the detective's. She was dead on arrival.
The room was silent, devastation filling each soul. Murmurs began rising and tears began falling. Nobody checked for a pulse, knowing the amount of blood lost meant her death was inevitable. The news was publicly announced that night.
Her squad members cried and screamed, even those who had always been composed. Victims she once knew came forward, placing flowers in front of the old building she was murdered in. Colleagues, victims, friends, family, attorneys and judges all mourned the Sargent. Her kidnapper was announced as the shooter.
The detective was gone; her life halted by a single bullet. She had a passion that would rage and roar. Within her was an uncrushable hope and dedication to her job that never faded. She stood for those that didn't have a voice and for those who deserved justice.
Her unit became quieter, the fire that fueled the unit now snuffed out. A new aura was in the air, the room once filled with enthusiastic and adept detectives was now filled with silently tearful ones.
The M.E attempted to run the autopsy, though her emotions overpowered her professional stance. Telling herself it was just a body was useless; this was her friend's empty shell.
Her boyfriend was distraught, his lover found in a pool of her own blood. After a decade of waiting for the detective's feeling to become more than professional, she had finally let him love her. She had finally let him become more than another detective. It was really something.
Upon hearing the news about her death, her old partner let down his walls and cried silently, wishing for a moment longer with the Sargent. They had barely been in contact the last few years; he wished for just one more moment, one more word, one more glance.
After nearly two decades of assisting victims, she had acquired hundreds of admires. People all over America were moved by the detective's death; she'd been murdered for assisting a child who had been kidnapped by a serial rapist and murderer. Victims that she had once helped regain their lives and thrive again, taking back the control that was ripped away from them one fateful night.
Her life had been dedicated to her job and it was what got her killed.
The funeral was silent, with over a hundred fellow officers, victims and friends present.
"You okay?" Detective Tuotola approached his colleague, both of them in uniform and her hair in a ponytail. She forced herself to smile, suppressing tears that were begging to fall.
"She was my partner before I joined SVU." she admitted. "We hadn't spoken for nearly twenty years."
Tuotola smiled. "Come on, Liv. Let's get a drink."
It wasn't Liv who died, just to clarify.
~xMeganful