'You can't outrun your ending' ~ Only A Memory by Icon For Hire

Loud, mourning sobs echoed through the room. River like tears cascaded down her crumpled face; her shoulders shaking violently.

"I-I just d-don't understand why," she spluttered out, gasping for air as the grief stricken woman (she herself) hiccuped her way through the words. "I-I mean w-why hi-," the clean, white door abruptly opened, putting the constant stuttering to a halt.

"Mr and Mrs Green? Oh, um no, wrong file, Mr and Mrs Earl? Please make your way into the questioning room and please remain calm and respectful."

With that said, Rosa Earl wailed loudly whilst making her way in. Thomas Earl grumbled lightly and shook his head in annoyance as he quickly followed, ushering Rosa to walk faster.

"Now, I understand that the both of you are clearly in an obvious grieving phase which is appreciated. However, you must understand, we are here to solve this case and to prevent any future... incidents." The simple word bitterly left Detective Roberts' tongue as he took a sip of his hot, herbal tea. "Besides in order to do so you must participate."

"You don't understand a single thing! You didn't have to see the horrendous sight of your child, dead, in a nearby ditch! Who do you think you are, telling us to unwillingly participate! We don't care about the fact that you're going to get paid for our distress; we just want what's best for us." The eerie silence sat on the thick atmosphere as Thomas' wistful rant ended with a deep, shaky intake of air. The detectives and inspectors watched the couple with emotionless faces. These types of cases had happened more than enough times throughout the decades - they knew how to work with difficult participators.

** ** **

After hours of persuasion and choked back tears the couple finally left the building whimpering softly in each other's arms. Detective Jones sighed as she threw herself into a plush red chair. "Hey, don't get too comfy Amelia, WE still need to go visit the lab for the drug results."

"Only you would be happy to see a mutilated kid's body," she muttered darkly as she sent a tired and snarky glare towards Detective Roberts. After being graced with a rude reply back, she stood up and turned on the way to the direction of the lab.

Two towering figures inspected the lifeless body that lay soundly on the bed. Matted blood lay in chunks hidden in his overgrown, ginger red hair. Across his face was a deep, jagged cut coated in a thick layer of dry blood. If you regrettably decided to peer in you would notice lumps of bones and fleshy bits that had been disturbed during the assault. His face was almost unrecognisable, the only exception being the little unidentified mole that lay tranquilly beneath the soft skin of his right ear.

The rest of is 'body' was worse. His legs had been skinned skilfully and neatly; every human necessity still peaceful inside the structural shape. His stomach and chest had multiple forming scars that lay etched onto the small, skinny boy. Peeling skin was scattered over him like mouldy dirt on an ancient ruin. The sockets that once held his 4-year-old arms were crooked and brutally bashed open, indicating that they had been in a losing battle between the killer and themselves. The repulsing, pungent smell overtook the neutralised air whilst it ate its way through the silence.

"When are we going to let his parents visit? He is their son. I can't even imagine what they're going through and this is clearly not going to help."

"We'll do the best we can. However, the results have come in and I can safely say that he was not drugged before he was massacred. Since his arms are clearly," he muttered, "not present, we could not figure out if he had put up a struggle. If he had, then hand prints would have been evident on his wrists. It seems to me and the rest of the team as if he died a quick and simple death according to the gash across his throat over there. It is very specific and few people can get it done that accurately."

"What do you mean by that Dr. Lee?"

"What I man, Amelia, is that the killer is either very handy with sharp objects or has exceedingly good luck. But whichever way he, or she, hasn't left us a single clue."

"Maybe not, but at least we know now that our killer is not a rookie. Otherwise he would have left fingerprints. It's a common inaccuracy." She turned her head towards her colleague sharply, beckoning him over. Detective Roberts had remained oddly calm during their conversation. "Alan, I need you to come with me to the crime scene. Let's take a look at where this poor kid was dumped."

** ** **

"Good thing I brought my boots."

Mud was smeared over the trampled, off-coloured grass, the detectives' boot prints laid out in front of them. Ahead was a shallow trench, large enough to fit - and hide - a grown man's body. Blood was splattered along the edge of the long, narrow ditch making it seem like Charles had rolled himself in.

"We have checked the surrounding area carefully. It is off limits to everyone except us and the police. Even his parents are now forbidden to come."

"His parents? Why would his parents come and visit the place they found their dead son?"

"Well, they could is they wanted to... mourn or something... Anyway, they only live round the corner in that mansion over there."

Alan Roberts manoeuvred his eyes until they landed on the familiar sight. His stretched out finger pointed at the remarkable vision. It was a picture perfect scene from the classic horror movie.

Looming over the messy outline of trees was an ancient mansion built 300 years ago. It was the type that looked like it contained many hidden passages, Now, however, possibly used by clustered families of spiders. Multiple turrets and towers stared out towards the vast ocean that rested mapped out carefully a few miles away. Ivy crawled along the brick walls, coating them in an aesthetically pleasing shade of green.

"It's beautiful," Amelia gasped as she moved her fingers through the air as is she was lightly touching the château itself, why would such a terrible outcome happen here?

"The world itself is a mystery and so is this mansion. Many tend to tell tales about this particular locale, most of which end up being extremely detailed rumours." He laughed to himself, shaking his head at the things people did for attention.

Amelia Jones felt a sudden gust of cold air go through her; flinging her back a little as she bent over to try and keep her balance. It felt like someone had trampled all over her future grave. And that's where you'll be soon, a low voice muttered, the volume of his voice increasing with each word. Her eyes grew wide as they feasted on the sight upfront. She blinked. Sickening thoughts filled her head as she turned and stumbled, heading for her car. Worried expressions filled her colleagues' faces. Little air was getting in. the lack of oxygen burned her lungs; her muscles weakened by the second. Large gulps were made but despite her best efforts she couldn't retrieve anything. Her eyes rolled backwards. Her knees gave out beneath her, sending her forwards. The muddy, uncut grass greeted her as she fell helplessly. Terror arose like a swarm of bees fighting together against their next intruding victim.

Detective Roberts found himself scanning the now abandoned land. The sun was setting from behind the trees. The gusty air was tranquil. Everyone else had either gone to clear up for the day or had gone to the hospital with Amelia. Something must have made her feel like that, he pondered, something had to have changed. But what? He shook his head to get rid of the agitating thoughts.

Before he left, he glanced at the mansion. The Earl's had left the place, the pressure understandably being too much to handle. For a second he could have sworn he saw a hooded figure flash past in the upstairs window. He looked again and it wasn't there. Sighing, he turned around. He soon wished he hadn't. The hooded figure stood merely metres before him, demonic red eyes burning through the black cloth that covered them - staring at him. A loud scream tore from his lips and echoed in the forest as he ran, ran from the hooded figure.

It watched on. Two people in one day was quite an accomplishment. The sound of the sea lapping at the sandy beach filled his eras as he sighed and returned to the warmth of his deserted 'home'. Not that he felt it anyway, the warmth. His heart had plunged too deep into the ice-cold water and his set-in-stone intentions were anything but good.

His eyes flickered around the room and finally landed on the window. The waves had calmed down now, as the sun hid behind the coastline. He watched the scene intently; listening to the wind as it scurried by softly, whistling. His breathing quickened and mixed emotions poured into his eyes as they stared at the intruding feature. His peaceful trance had been shattered once more. This occurrence was a daily routine.

To the side of the coast was a series of cliffs. These cliffs were dangerous and specifically banned from the public eye, no matter how striking they were. New rumours were born every day and suddenly everyone thought of them as 'un-safe' or 'destructing'. They were right.

~~~

Hi again! Hope you enjoyed this, I know this isnt that great but my writing skills should get better ^.^ Stick around for more,

~whosperfect_