Here it is: my freaky halloween short story. enjoy 😈 I'll be honest, it freaks me out too. ha. (whole story in the link in my bio)
“Connors. Stanley Connors, I go by Stan though. Call me that.”
“Mr. Conn– Stan, tell me what happened. Start from the beginning. Everything you can remember.” Stan sat up straight in his metal chair, making it scratch against the floor. He cleared his throat as if that would make him appear less anxious. His hand moved the greasy curls brushing his face and noticed his hands vibrating like a recovering addict going through withdraws. He pushed his clasped fists further under the table, rubbing them together for warmth. It’s cold in here, he thought. Why is it so cold? Is he not cold? He looked at the detective in his short-sleeve button-up.
The detective noticed Stan’s shaking hands and peered into his eyes. Checking my pupils Stan gathered and cleared his throat again.
“Um, well, the tonight started with me and Julie–”
“It’s the second night in our new house. We were eating some pizza, having a glass of wine and unpacking boxes.
“How many glasses of wine?”
“We hadn’t even finished the first before — before it all started.”
“Have you taken any other substances tonight?” The detective glanced to where Stan’s hands would be under the table.
“No! I mean, no, we don’t do that. Never have.”
“Never?” The detective asked, skeptical.
“No. Both of our families raised us very religious; kept close tabs and all that.” Stan shook his head and glanced at the detective, waiting for more questions.
“Ok, go ahead. I’ll keep the questions to a minimum; just focus on your story.”
Stan watched him briefly, not believing he cared. He just looked untrustworthy, the type of detective that needs a power trip and closed case with a guilty suspect. Stan’s dark, shaggy hair hid his eyes when he looked down. (Cont in the blog...) Story 📝: kristi Moore (moi) 📷: I’m not sure, not me.
#fictional #dontbescared #butbescared
@myfavoritemurder #notreal #thankfully