The Twilight Twenty-Five
thetwilight25 dot com
Prompt: 25 Worthless
Main Character: Leah/Rose
Rating: M
Word Count: 500
"Police! Open up!" The curly-haired officer busts down the door.
The blond cop follows the broad shoulders of her partner, gun in hand.
Shouts come from the back of the house. She takes a deep breath and clears the bedroom to the left.
A tall guy with long black hair and tanned skin comes into view. The flash of light has them ducking for cover. The loveseat she hides behind becomes little more than useless fabric and wood.
She radios for backup while her partner returns fire.
The first guy falls fairly quickly. As she glances around the remains of the couch more shots are fired at them. This second perp remains in one of the side rooms. There's no way she can take him out. She signals to her partner as she prepares herself to be the bait. From outside she hears the noises of other cars pulling up. She prays it's help as opposed to more foes.
Saying one last quick prayer, she pokes her head up again. She sees a flash to her right. A cry is emitted from the obscured male; his gun clatters to the floor. She runs to kick the gun, out of his range, and tackles him.
The small house is almost cleared. One room left: the kitchen. Small noises float their way. She uses a zip tie around the handcuffs and the radiator to keep him secured in the room while they continue back. Curses spew from his mouth, muffling the quiet conversation between the officers and the words from the kitchen.
He takes the lead again, inching toward the last room. From a peek into the kitchen, he could tell there's one more. The two brunettes who'd been reportedly seen being dragged in are tied to the chairs on the far side of the table. He signals to the blonde, one left. "Drop your weapons. You can make it out of this alive."
"Breathing, yes, but there ain't no life left for me."
A single gunshot echoes down the hall. Both officers crowd the doorway and open fire. The perp's torso is littered with holes.
The blonde walks into the room and pulls a knife from her belt. Cutting the ropes, she notices huge gashes down the side of the woman's face. "Help is coming. Can you hear the sirens?" Whimpers from the woman get louder. "What's your name?"
The cop doesn't get anything coherent out of her. She's lost to the misery of the last twenty-four hours.
As she tries to calm down the injured victim, her partner goes to the other woman. Her brains are splattered across the table mimicking a Jackson Pollock piece, a bullet embedded in the center. He looks at her clothes, at her tied hands, anything but the head. He knows she's the woman they've been looking for, the one related to the mayor. They're all going to get crap for this.
He shakes his head at the waste of life scattered through the house.
AN: Big thanks to Tiramisue84 and BellaMed for helping cut words and making sense out of this one. Tiramisue84 has finished her challenge, and BellaMed is quickly honing in on the last few prompts. Go take a look at their words, even if they are Edward-centric.