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Chapter 2.
Alyson McKellen, sat at her crowded desk flicking through a thick yellow card file. This morning upon entering her pitiful cramped cubicle (supposedly an office), she had studied a police report of a resent death and added it to her already bulging file.
She had been following this case for the last eight months, ever since she'd got this job. And it was by far the most disturbing thing that she had ever seen. For the past two and a half years unexplainable deaths had been occurring all over Great Britain, the most unnerving thing was that the victims seemed to have no cause of death at all, they merely dropped down dead.
Sometimes they were in the street other times at home and there was no sign of forced entry, occasionally people claimed they'd seem green light coming from the area around the time of death but that was it. At first glance the victims of the murders appeared to be entirely random.
But after a lot of investigating she had discovered that there was a disturbing connection, every victim had no past, there were no school records no employment files, no criminal records, their friends and neighbours seemed to have no idea about who they were and where they had come from. But over the last six months, the death rate had increased dramatically, going from one victim every two or three months to one victim a week.
The latest of these victims was a woman she guessed was roughly her age, Hannah Abbott. Alyson adjusted her glasses and examined the photos, the first was of the victim, taken at a friend's party, the second was the death scene. She was lying on the ground dressed in her night-gown, eyes wide in shock and fear but with no visible marks from attack she was just dead.
The coroner couldn't find anything wrong with her either, no illness, no poison, nothing, she was just dead.
Alyson placed the photos into the file then put it in the steel cabinet. She couldn't begin to understand why no one else seemed to notice the connection or number of deaths. She had interviewed the coroner herself and he found nothing suspicious or unusual about someone having no cause of death. It was as if the whole world eas blind to what was happening, everyone that is except her.
Alyson didn't know why but the story appealed to her, there was something about it that she just needed to discover but she didn't know what. And this morning when she had managed to find a photo of the latest victim she just seemed.familiar somehow.
Maybe that's what had drawn her to this case, every time she saw another photo of the most resent victim she felt great sorrow as if she had just suffered the loss herself, it was bizarre.
She stood up and stretched, "Alyson?" She turned and smiled at her elderly editor. "Hey, Mark. What's going on?"
He smiled widely at her, but when his eyes darted down to the bulging file his smile faded. "Not much, I was just wondering about the story, are you heading to the victims apartment?" He asked some what timidly.
Alyson nodded and smiled grimly, Mark had been trying to pull her off this story for months, he was another person that couldn't seem to see the connection and disturbing pattern of events. "I hear that the place is heavily guarded by the police." She said softly.
Mark raised a bushy white eyebrow and asked in a half teasing, half admiring tone; "Has that ever stopped you before Miss McKellen?" Picking up her black leather jacket and slipping it over her jeans and shirt, she grinned, "See you later Mark." She turned and walked out quickly; the last thing she wanted today was another lecture on breaking and entering from the boss. After accidentally being caught by the police at the last victim's house, a man whose name was Justin Finch-Fletchly, her co-workers had less faith in her abilities.
Alyson pulled her old car up to the curb, it was a nice neighbourhood, very quiet and peaceful, the rest of the press hadn't taken much interest in this case either by the looks of it.
She checked her appearance in the mirror, she wasn't vain nor did she consider herself particularly attractive but if caught by the police looks were helpful for getting out of bad situations. She had straight glossy black hair that flowed to her mid-back and grey-blue eyes. She had pale white skin and a medium height but slim figure.
Stepping out of the car and onto the curb she wandered around the large apartment block. From the little background information on the latest victim She already knew which window's belonged to the victim's apartment, now all she needed to do was find a way to get into it.
That's when she saw it, an old oak, the tree was perfect, it had branches starting near enough to the ground so that she could hoist herself up and one of the branches led practically next to Abbot's bedroom window.
Glancing around cautiously she checked that no one was watching her, then she began to climb up the tree, The things I do for this job. She thought grimly as she hoisted herself up onto the lowest branch, it took her less than a few minutes to climb to the right level.
Balancing her weight carefully on both the tree and the wall to the apartment, Alyson set about picking the bed room window lock, something that she had become quite good at since taking up this job. It opened with a soft click and after hauling her self up a few feet she landed with a thump in a heap on the carpet.
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Please review! Go on, make me smile! : )
Chapter 2.
Alyson McKellen, sat at her crowded desk flicking through a thick yellow card file. This morning upon entering her pitiful cramped cubicle (supposedly an office), she had studied a police report of a resent death and added it to her already bulging file.
She had been following this case for the last eight months, ever since she'd got this job. And it was by far the most disturbing thing that she had ever seen. For the past two and a half years unexplainable deaths had been occurring all over Great Britain, the most unnerving thing was that the victims seemed to have no cause of death at all, they merely dropped down dead.
Sometimes they were in the street other times at home and there was no sign of forced entry, occasionally people claimed they'd seem green light coming from the area around the time of death but that was it. At first glance the victims of the murders appeared to be entirely random.
But after a lot of investigating she had discovered that there was a disturbing connection, every victim had no past, there were no school records no employment files, no criminal records, their friends and neighbours seemed to have no idea about who they were and where they had come from. But over the last six months, the death rate had increased dramatically, going from one victim every two or three months to one victim a week.
The latest of these victims was a woman she guessed was roughly her age, Hannah Abbott. Alyson adjusted her glasses and examined the photos, the first was of the victim, taken at a friend's party, the second was the death scene. She was lying on the ground dressed in her night-gown, eyes wide in shock and fear but with no visible marks from attack she was just dead.
The coroner couldn't find anything wrong with her either, no illness, no poison, nothing, she was just dead.
Alyson placed the photos into the file then put it in the steel cabinet. She couldn't begin to understand why no one else seemed to notice the connection or number of deaths. She had interviewed the coroner herself and he found nothing suspicious or unusual about someone having no cause of death. It was as if the whole world eas blind to what was happening, everyone that is except her.
Alyson didn't know why but the story appealed to her, there was something about it that she just needed to discover but she didn't know what. And this morning when she had managed to find a photo of the latest victim she just seemed.familiar somehow.
Maybe that's what had drawn her to this case, every time she saw another photo of the most resent victim she felt great sorrow as if she had just suffered the loss herself, it was bizarre.
She stood up and stretched, "Alyson?" She turned and smiled at her elderly editor. "Hey, Mark. What's going on?"
He smiled widely at her, but when his eyes darted down to the bulging file his smile faded. "Not much, I was just wondering about the story, are you heading to the victims apartment?" He asked some what timidly.
Alyson nodded and smiled grimly, Mark had been trying to pull her off this story for months, he was another person that couldn't seem to see the connection and disturbing pattern of events. "I hear that the place is heavily guarded by the police." She said softly.
Mark raised a bushy white eyebrow and asked in a half teasing, half admiring tone; "Has that ever stopped you before Miss McKellen?" Picking up her black leather jacket and slipping it over her jeans and shirt, she grinned, "See you later Mark." She turned and walked out quickly; the last thing she wanted today was another lecture on breaking and entering from the boss. After accidentally being caught by the police at the last victim's house, a man whose name was Justin Finch-Fletchly, her co-workers had less faith in her abilities.
Alyson pulled her old car up to the curb, it was a nice neighbourhood, very quiet and peaceful, the rest of the press hadn't taken much interest in this case either by the looks of it.
She checked her appearance in the mirror, she wasn't vain nor did she consider herself particularly attractive but if caught by the police looks were helpful for getting out of bad situations. She had straight glossy black hair that flowed to her mid-back and grey-blue eyes. She had pale white skin and a medium height but slim figure.
Stepping out of the car and onto the curb she wandered around the large apartment block. From the little background information on the latest victim She already knew which window's belonged to the victim's apartment, now all she needed to do was find a way to get into it.
That's when she saw it, an old oak, the tree was perfect, it had branches starting near enough to the ground so that she could hoist herself up and one of the branches led practically next to Abbot's bedroom window.
Glancing around cautiously she checked that no one was watching her, then she began to climb up the tree, The things I do for this job. She thought grimly as she hoisted herself up onto the lowest branch, it took her less than a few minutes to climb to the right level.
Balancing her weight carefully on both the tree and the wall to the apartment, Alyson set about picking the bed room window lock, something that she had become quite good at since taking up this job. It opened with a soft click and after hauling her self up a few feet she landed with a thump in a heap on the carpet.
//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// ////////////////////////////////////////////////
Please review! Go on, make me smile! : )