Ch.2 --- I don't own the greatness that is CSI.
The air hung heavily. There was no other way to describe it, but death was in the air. The two officers crept through the foyer, shining their flashlights on every surface trying to find the origin of what they knew was a body. A dead, profusely bleeding body. The officers identified themselves again, but the only answer was an echo and whatever imaginary voice in their heads that screeched and terrorized them. They were weary of the possibility of some insane gun or knife-wielding murderer jumping up from any shadow but it didn't happen.
They approached the kitchen and there they were. A woman, a man… one gunshot each. Blood covered the floor smoothly. The gun was positioned in the man's hand unnaturally, but could have been the result of his demise, falling to the ground. There was a lot of blood.
Keelson slowly and calmly called for backup and other necessary people just as they both heard a thump upstairs. It suddenly dawned on them that the dead couple didn't call 9-1-1 and the family photographs littering the hallway meant there were two girls, somewhere. Presumably upstairs. The pair hurried up, calling. At the end of a curved stairwell was a maze of hallways. They rushed in and out of the various rooms, searching. The second-to-last door on the left had a light on, and inside sat a girl in the corner of the room, under her quilt, shaking horribly.
