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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Detective · #1062615
My first attempt at writing, also an assignment for an english college course.
“I just wish she’d tell us what she knew, even a nod or shake, of her sweet head, when we ask her a question. Anything to give us a clue or a hint, at the guise of the fiend that did this. As it is, the only thing we have to go on is the forensic reports. All they tell us is “the assailant was unusually short”. The partial prints that the lab managed to pull off the weapons, belonged to poor Demeter, the rest were too smudged to work with.”

Detective Zarco was anxiously speaking to Demeter’s doctor. He was concerned about the Bell girl. She hadn’t spoken a word, or reacted to anyone around her, since the dreadful day that he had found her hiding in the corner of the kitchen, clutching painfully on to an axe, with the cruelly cleaved carcasses of her parents sprawled on the floor not ten feet away. She had remained mute and refused to communicate in any way.

After spending a week in hospital, Demeter had been placed with a foster family until she recovered enough to help the police. That had been a significant mistake. Two days after taking sanctuary with them, they too had been savagely slaughtered. Again Demeter was found, crouched silently in the corner of the room fearfully grasping the weapon. It seemed like the dastard responsible for these murders, was out to torture the child.

It was now up to Zarco to protect her. He would keep her safe. Demeter would live with him. Gradually, he would be able to get some response from her. He was determined to catch this monster.

“ I’m sorry detective, but we can’t push her. Demeter’s in shock and if forced to react before she’s ready.. well.. We may never hear her speak. I suggest you go back home to her and try to comfort her. But I warn you detective. Do not push her.”

It had been a month since the girl’s parents had been brutally murdered. Detective Zarco was starting to feel dejected and unhopeful. Sighing heavily he started to head home.

It was a pleasant day in central Texas. The heat of summer was now past and replaced with the slightly cooler fall. He slouched towards his car. Slinking along the other side of the road (peering into the shop fronts) was the local drug dealer. Zarco was too distracted to find out what he was up to. His mind was doing more miles than his car ever had. Demeter’s mother had been a drug addict.

Zarco had already questioned all the big time drug dealers and addicts that he knew. None had provided any information that was useful to him. Though he suspected this was more to do with them not knowing anything, rather than misplaced loyalty. Neighbours reported that the Bell’s argued a lot. Arguments had been heard that night. Apparently this time it was about some bruises found on Demeter at school. Mr Bell had been summoned by the principal earlier that day. It quickly became the main topic of conversation among the pupils at the school where he worked. Everyone seemed to agree that he was most likely the person responsible for his daughter’s injuries.

Zarco had just pulled into his drive and decided to try and leave this train of thought behind him for a while. It was no good being frustrated with the investigation, then letting it all slip out, in front of Demeter. She was his only witness, he couldn’t risk her silence lasting much longer.

He got out of the car and closed the door. Then it struck him how quiet everything was. Something was wrong. Where was that noise his son called music? He peered at his front door. It wasn’t quite on the latch. Zarco gingerly opened his car door. Not daring to take his eyes off of the front of the house, he fumbled blindly around for his gun. He swapped his gun into his left hand. Knocking himself off balance, he fell into the car, grappling for his radio, hesitantly calling for officer assistance. He pulled out of the car, being careful to not quite close the door, so that he would have quick access, should he need it. Ducked low, holding his gun in both hands, he crept, spider like, towards his open front door.

Now, at the door, he sneaked in, doing a rapid survey. All the doors onto the entrance hall were wide open. There was a blood trail on the plush cream carpet.

‘No! Not here!’ came his anguished whisper. He only went out for ten minutes. He had checked all round the house before he left. Everything was secure. No one was around that shouldn’t be.

Zarco suddenly heard a shriek and before he could turn to face its origin he felt a thump to the back of his neck. His entire body was engulfed with a tingling sensation as he fell to the floor, like a cold water balloon. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Demeter. She was swinging an axe towards his head.
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