Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction
Chapter one part oneIts daytime now.
She opens her eyes and immediatly shuts them again, then slowly reopens once again to let the light gently probe her eyeball. The shutters are open, she thinks, Gary is up. And indeed he was, for there at the door he stood with two cups of strong smelling coffee in hand and a smile on his face.
The first day of their vacation had officially begun. She sat up in bed and accepted the mug, my did he use cinamon? She could clearly smell the cinamon, he must have been up very early.
"How did you sleep?"
"Good, its all so peaceful out here." From where they lived in their apartment that was constantly hounded by noise from nearby traffic, this summer cottage was so peaceful, or so it would seem.
"What do you want to do taday?"
"Jeff says there's a shotgun in the shed, I want you to teach me how to shoot," a smile, "You do know how to shoot, don't you Gary?"
Gary sat a little upright and cocked his head, "I gues I can't remeber last time I fired a gun."
"I can, this last New Years."
"Then theres a reason I can't remeber." He laughed, "Did I hit anything?"
"Since you were actually aiming for the stars I think it would be fair to say no."
They both laughed.
There was a pause as they both looked out the window and saw the lake, no ripples, no waves, no people, just silence and calm.
"I know what I want to do," she suddenly piped up, breaking the surreal silence, "I want to go boating!"
An hour later they were paddling out to the middle of the lake. Gary was doing most of the rowing as she had insisted but was working up no sweat. She found it a perfect time to lie back and listen to nature. In the boat there was cheese and wine which they had packed beforehand and now and then picked on. He was in the midst of saying one of his high school stories when he let out an unexpected shreik.
For what he saw would change the world for the next week.
She sat up and looked at him, his face had drained of the blood and his eyeballs were suken to the back of his head.
"There!" he pointed a finger to behind her back, "There."
She spun around and also gave a start.
They had floated to a warehouse with the door open and a boat tied to a post. Splattered against the window and all over the side of the boat was blood. Two bodies were laying side by side, both facing up and looking at the ceiling. A half open box was on its side and a thin line of white powder was spilt along the deck.
They both were stunned for a moment, as if they had entered a dreamscape and now found themselves lost in it.
He paddled the boat foreward and got a closer look. The two bodies were indeed murdered. He finally shook his head and turned to his fiancee.
"Honey, call the police."
She turned to him.
"This is a murder scene, dammit, just get on the phone."
She was shock and looked at him with her big blue eyes, "Who killed them?"
"Who killed them? Listen to yourself for a moment, will you! The police will find out; now call them."
At last she pulled out her Blackberry and dialed. He steered the boat closer and lept aboard the dock.
Who killed them?
He knelt closer and took a look at the tied ones eyes. And it just so happened those eyes were starring back at him. The eyes were scarred but not shocked, as if the victim knew what was comming and had given in to it.
Those dead, grey eyes.
In the back he could hear her talking.
"Where do you say you are?" a man on the other end asked her.
She told him and shut the phone off.
"The cops are on their way."
"Lets get out of here, this place creeps me out."
And though that was the only contact with the case that the Landons had, the glowing dead eyes of Rodrigo Sanchez would forever be burned in Garys memory.
For that was how the whole mess began.
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