It was a dark and cold morning in Manchester Hospital. Many odd cases were
coming in the Emergency Room: two boys that had hit eachother with baseball
bats, a girl who'd swallowed a razor blade, one boy got his tongue stuck in
a fan, and a woman whose leg had been crushed by a steam roller. Cries of
pain and anger filled the rooms, but one in particular got the most
attention.
On floor six, at the end of the hall, was a small room with no one in it but two figures. The one sleeping in bed was a man, about six feet tall, black hair, brown eyes, an artistic goatee, and a sick expression on his face. His crotch was completely bandaged, brown stains of dried blood surfaced the gauze, and he didn't move at all. The other, sitting on the chair, was a woman. She was tall and thin, with small breasts and a stick like figure. Her shirt read 'Ozzy' on it, and along with it she wore black jeans and black combat boots. Spikes and chains covered her, along with a small pair of glasses. She had green and black hedgehog-spiked hair, her eyes a dark blue, and her skin was a peach color. She rested her hand against her chin, her expression one of deep, irritated thought.
Suddenly a man came in through the doors. "Brittany Combs?"
"What?" The woman in the chair looked up, spotting his police badge and her upper lip twitched nervously.
"Miss Combs, I'm Detective Dave Brim from The Manchester Police. I'd like to ask you a couple of questions if I may?"
Brittany turned to look at her sleeping boyfriend, sighed, and got up.
Detective Brim led her into a vacant room right across from her own, two policemen standing on each side of the door. She eyed them uneasily, but walked into the room, where the door was shut behind her. She turned around, hands on hips, and said, "What do you want?"
Brim took a deep breath. "Miss Combs-"
"Brittany."
"Excuse me?"
"I don't go by 'Miss'. I'm not a little girl."
He paused. "Y-Yes. Brittany, we at the station heard about you and your boyfriend's accident last night."
"It was his accident, not mine."
"-Well, we have information that the one who had committed this crime was a woman named Lucia." Her eyes flashed dangerously and she crossed her arms over her chest. "We don't know her last name yet, or her appearance or family. All we know of her the tire tracks she leaves behind from her motorcycle and bystanders screaming her name-friends or otherwise. Do you know of her?"
"Yeah..."
"Were you in any way aquatinted with her, such as a friend or pen pal?"
"Pen pal?" Brittany spat. "She was my girlfriend!"
Brim's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Your...friend?"
She paused, staring at him with a cocked eyebrow. "No. My girlfriend. Ya know; lesbian, carpet-munching dykes." She smirked at him; loving the way his arm seemed to drop and his face contort in slight disgust. Maybe it was just the way she said it.
"Um...Okay." He chuckled slightly. "I thought you were...since..." He nodded to the back door, which indicated her mangled animal on the bed.
Her eyes narrowed. "Listen, I don't want to talk about it. My sexual lifestyle has nothing to do with you and your detective work. I knew Lucia and that's all you have to know."
Brim cracked a smile, and the two cops behind him chuckled. The twitch came back in her lip, but not from anxiety. "Right then." He said. "Whatever. The point is, we need to know if you have any whereabouts to where she is now?"
"No." She said flatly.
"Miss Combs, you do know something."
"No, I don't. But why does it matter? Murderers and rapists get away everyday, and so did she. So what's your problem? The police have never been this preoccupied in Manchester." She snorted, and Brim frowned.
"I don't think you understand." He smirked. "He long have you been dating?"
Brittany shrugged. "Three...three years."
"Not long enough." He said. "You see, your ex has been on the top most wanted lists all over England. Only seven years ago little Lucia had knocked over ten liquor stores and 7-11's in only three months. Were you aware?"
"N-No..." She blinked.
"A year later she burned the Salvation Army down in Bristol. Luckily only three were badly injured. She killed seven prize cows at a Fair. She'd stole exactly seven hundred dollars from a children's hospital in Crawley. And only five years ago, she'd gone too far. Lucia had pulled off a robbery in a bank accompanied by someone else, although we could never find out who. Not only keeping dates of actual activity, but Lucia has been involved in many knife and fist fights that almost end in death. Lucia is considered almost to be the most dangerous women in England. The most unsettling part is we can never track her down. We just recently found out her first supposed first name. If you were to help us out with wherever she might be, I promise you you'll never regret it."
Brittany stood there, riveted. Her eyes were wide in shock and her mouth was slightly dropped. "Uh..." She mumbled. "What a freak." She giggled. "I mean I figured she had done some damage from robbery, but I never really expected all that much. I know about the knife fights. I was in one. She was the one who taught me how to fight."
Brim sighed. "I'm serious Miss Combs-"
"What did I tell you about calling me that?" She growled. "Listen, I don't know where the bitch is. I could give a damn!-"
"No." He said flatly. "You couldn't. I know you know something Miss Combs, and you're hiding her whereabouts because of some make-believe emotion of love."
"Make-believe?!-"
"We'll talk later." He smirked. "Down at the station. Either you come, or I'll have my officers 'escort' you." He turned, leaving Brittany shaking in pure anger. "You have seven hours. It's best to come clean early, because we'll always find the truth."
He left.
***
Brittany walked slowly into her original room, putting her hand against the wall and her eyes looking down at the ground.
The man in bed was awake, and he looked over at her. "Where the fuck were you?" He growled irritably.
She glared at him, not answering, and sighed. Suddenly she began to pace and talk to herself. "Lucia's in trouble...And this homophobic dick detective wants to talk to me."
"What?"
"-Who cares? She did this to me-wait, but I cheated on her...so what is this my fault? She can control her actions...not really; she's more of a man than any men I know are. What do I do? Turn her in? But..."
"Britt-?"
"Robert!" Brittany barked, suddenly walking up to him. "I'm in trouble- because of you! Because of...me."
"What are you talking about?"
"My girlfriend! The reason your lying here!"
"You're a lesbian?!"
She stared at him in disbelief. "Do I look like a straight woman?!? For Christ's sake-Look Robert, shut up, okay? She's in trouble because of what she did to you and now the police want me to track her down-"
"Wait a minute. That was your girlfriend? That ugly cunt that cut me the dark?!"
"Please-" She became uneasy and swallowed.
"So it was your fault? You bitch! What the fuck, did you plan this?!"
"No! I-"
"I don't want to hear it. Just...stay away from me! Get out! Go-back to your bull-dyke from Hell!"
Brittany trembled, breathing hard, and turned to the door. She didn't look back as she walked out the door and slammed it behind her. Robert shrugged and looked out the window.
Outside in the hallway, Brittany buried her face in her hands and cried.
On floor six, at the end of the hall, was a small room with no one in it but two figures. The one sleeping in bed was a man, about six feet tall, black hair, brown eyes, an artistic goatee, and a sick expression on his face. His crotch was completely bandaged, brown stains of dried blood surfaced the gauze, and he didn't move at all. The other, sitting on the chair, was a woman. She was tall and thin, with small breasts and a stick like figure. Her shirt read 'Ozzy' on it, and along with it she wore black jeans and black combat boots. Spikes and chains covered her, along with a small pair of glasses. She had green and black hedgehog-spiked hair, her eyes a dark blue, and her skin was a peach color. She rested her hand against her chin, her expression one of deep, irritated thought.
Suddenly a man came in through the doors. "Brittany Combs?"
"What?" The woman in the chair looked up, spotting his police badge and her upper lip twitched nervously.
"Miss Combs, I'm Detective Dave Brim from The Manchester Police. I'd like to ask you a couple of questions if I may?"
Brittany turned to look at her sleeping boyfriend, sighed, and got up.
Detective Brim led her into a vacant room right across from her own, two policemen standing on each side of the door. She eyed them uneasily, but walked into the room, where the door was shut behind her. She turned around, hands on hips, and said, "What do you want?"
Brim took a deep breath. "Miss Combs-"
"Brittany."
"Excuse me?"
"I don't go by 'Miss'. I'm not a little girl."
He paused. "Y-Yes. Brittany, we at the station heard about you and your boyfriend's accident last night."
"It was his accident, not mine."
"-Well, we have information that the one who had committed this crime was a woman named Lucia." Her eyes flashed dangerously and she crossed her arms over her chest. "We don't know her last name yet, or her appearance or family. All we know of her the tire tracks she leaves behind from her motorcycle and bystanders screaming her name-friends or otherwise. Do you know of her?"
"Yeah..."
"Were you in any way aquatinted with her, such as a friend or pen pal?"
"Pen pal?" Brittany spat. "She was my girlfriend!"
Brim's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Your...friend?"
She paused, staring at him with a cocked eyebrow. "No. My girlfriend. Ya know; lesbian, carpet-munching dykes." She smirked at him; loving the way his arm seemed to drop and his face contort in slight disgust. Maybe it was just the way she said it.
"Um...Okay." He chuckled slightly. "I thought you were...since..." He nodded to the back door, which indicated her mangled animal on the bed.
Her eyes narrowed. "Listen, I don't want to talk about it. My sexual lifestyle has nothing to do with you and your detective work. I knew Lucia and that's all you have to know."
Brim cracked a smile, and the two cops behind him chuckled. The twitch came back in her lip, but not from anxiety. "Right then." He said. "Whatever. The point is, we need to know if you have any whereabouts to where she is now?"
"No." She said flatly.
"Miss Combs, you do know something."
"No, I don't. But why does it matter? Murderers and rapists get away everyday, and so did she. So what's your problem? The police have never been this preoccupied in Manchester." She snorted, and Brim frowned.
"I don't think you understand." He smirked. "He long have you been dating?"
Brittany shrugged. "Three...three years."
"Not long enough." He said. "You see, your ex has been on the top most wanted lists all over England. Only seven years ago little Lucia had knocked over ten liquor stores and 7-11's in only three months. Were you aware?"
"N-No..." She blinked.
"A year later she burned the Salvation Army down in Bristol. Luckily only three were badly injured. She killed seven prize cows at a Fair. She'd stole exactly seven hundred dollars from a children's hospital in Crawley. And only five years ago, she'd gone too far. Lucia had pulled off a robbery in a bank accompanied by someone else, although we could never find out who. Not only keeping dates of actual activity, but Lucia has been involved in many knife and fist fights that almost end in death. Lucia is considered almost to be the most dangerous women in England. The most unsettling part is we can never track her down. We just recently found out her first supposed first name. If you were to help us out with wherever she might be, I promise you you'll never regret it."
Brittany stood there, riveted. Her eyes were wide in shock and her mouth was slightly dropped. "Uh..." She mumbled. "What a freak." She giggled. "I mean I figured she had done some damage from robbery, but I never really expected all that much. I know about the knife fights. I was in one. She was the one who taught me how to fight."
Brim sighed. "I'm serious Miss Combs-"
"What did I tell you about calling me that?" She growled. "Listen, I don't know where the bitch is. I could give a damn!-"
"No." He said flatly. "You couldn't. I know you know something Miss Combs, and you're hiding her whereabouts because of some make-believe emotion of love."
"Make-believe?!-"
"We'll talk later." He smirked. "Down at the station. Either you come, or I'll have my officers 'escort' you." He turned, leaving Brittany shaking in pure anger. "You have seven hours. It's best to come clean early, because we'll always find the truth."
He left.
***
Brittany walked slowly into her original room, putting her hand against the wall and her eyes looking down at the ground.
The man in bed was awake, and he looked over at her. "Where the fuck were you?" He growled irritably.
She glared at him, not answering, and sighed. Suddenly she began to pace and talk to herself. "Lucia's in trouble...And this homophobic dick detective wants to talk to me."
"What?"
"-Who cares? She did this to me-wait, but I cheated on her...so what is this my fault? She can control her actions...not really; she's more of a man than any men I know are. What do I do? Turn her in? But..."
"Britt-?"
"Robert!" Brittany barked, suddenly walking up to him. "I'm in trouble- because of you! Because of...me."
"What are you talking about?"
"My girlfriend! The reason your lying here!"
"You're a lesbian?!"
She stared at him in disbelief. "Do I look like a straight woman?!? For Christ's sake-Look Robert, shut up, okay? She's in trouble because of what she did to you and now the police want me to track her down-"
"Wait a minute. That was your girlfriend? That ugly cunt that cut me the dark?!"
"Please-" She became uneasy and swallowed.
"So it was your fault? You bitch! What the fuck, did you plan this?!"
"No! I-"
"I don't want to hear it. Just...stay away from me! Get out! Go-back to your bull-dyke from Hell!"
Brittany trembled, breathing hard, and turned to the door. She didn't look back as she walked out the door and slammed it behind her. Robert shrugged and looked out the window.
Outside in the hallway, Brittany buried her face in her hands and cried.