Here is a small excerpt from a short story/novel that I have started and am working on. I don’t want to give away the plot line but this is how the story starts off. I have no title for it yet and have not worked with it very much so be gentle! You can leave me your comments and suggestions down below. Enjoy!
A cold bead of sweat dripped off the tip of his nose onto the file in front of him. His head was racing with anticipation of the moments to come. He had been waiting all day for this. The room seemed smaller and less inviting then normal the lights blaming me with their glare. The only sound in the room was a single fan rotating slowly, the wind around its blades swirling towards him sucking the life out of him. Images of detectives standing on the other side of the desk prying information out of the accused across the table spilled into his head. Another bead of sweat dripped down onto the file. He opening it and looked again through its contents. He had to make sure that everything was in order. Make sure they couldn’t blame him for what had happened. The contents scared him like nothing else he had ever experienced in his life. Detailed photographs of the body lying bloodied and broken in a heap on the snow-covered rocks lay in the file mocking his very existence. Memories began flooding his head of every moment of the incident. The piercing scream sending shivers down his back. He slammed the file closed again closing his eyes trying to wipe the memory from his head.
“Mr. Blackwood, we know what happened,” a man was entering the room with an evil sort of smile on his face. Detective Johnson was small for a detective. His brown hair was just long enough to reach the edges of his dark brown eyes and was messed up giving him the look of someone who had been putting in a lot of overtime or a particularly gruesome case. “We have you and the victim together on the day of the murder. Your footprints by where the victim was pushed. Signs of a struggle on the victim’s arms and neck. The only thing we don’t know is why you did it.”
“I didn’t do it.” It took all his nerve and energy to remain calm and not panic. Each word from detective Johnson’s mouth stabbed him like tiny pins being used for torture. “How many times do I have to tell you my story?”
“At least one more time, Mr. Blackwood.” Detective Johnson snapped back. A smirk appeared on his face. “Mr. Blackwood, it appears your hands are shaking. Finally starting to realize that you have been caught are you? Seems like a sign of guilt to me. Just remember after what you did to this poor man you are going to be going away for the rest of your life. And for you that is a really, really long time.”
The detective was leaning against the table still smirking. Dameon Blackwood closed his eyes again fighting back tears that seemed to want to cry out his innocence. So many thoughts were running through his head. How could this have started? How did this happen? Flashes of the last ten years started to Travel through his mind. It all seemed so long ago when this whole mess had started. He hadn’t even known the man crumpled in the snow back then. But it was ten years ago that the events leading up to this moment had started and ten years ago when Dameon Blackwood’s life of adventure had begun.