Story Page

 The Accused

 

 

 

 

CRIMINAL FILES:

                   

Steve Kimpt

Description: Tall, lean male. Shaggy, black hair with light blue streaks. Strong Texan accent.

Height: 5’ 10’’

Weight: 135lb.

Eyes: Dark Brown with large pupils

Unusual States: Scar across palm of hand, tends to like jumping out of windows, large, pale birthmark across lower back shaped as a skull

Relationships: Unknown

Current Residence: Unknown

If seen, please contact your local emergency control center. There will be a $500,000 reward.  

 

(Keep scrolling down!! Sorry about that!!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The bright morning sun shone in on my face as my eyes slowly opened. A loud noise had awoken me and it appeared to be coming from the lower level of my apartment complex. I slipped out of my warm bed and onto the icy cold floor. Sluggishly, I made my way to the door, opened it, and walked down the hallway to the elevator. Only, that wasn’t really an option at the moment, considering that it was being investigated. Maybe it broke again. Stupid elevators.

     I clear my throat of morning drainage and quietly made my way down the hall to the investigation scene. But what I found there was something way more disturbing than a broken elevator. Blood was spilled last night. And just right down the hall from my unlocked apartment room.

 

 

 

Chapter 1

 

‘Why? Why am I always the one accused?’ A young teen ran his fingers through his silky black hair. Muffling a few unmentionable words, he kicked a small pebble as he shuffled along a path. Who knew that a forest could be so peaceful? Especially at the break of dawn. The scent of pine tickled his nose and made his eyes water.

A crack of a twig made him jump, but figuring it was nothing, he continued. His goal was to get as deep into the forest as possible before noon. When was noon? He glanced down at his wrist. “About a freckle to a hair,” He sighed, having remembered that he lost his beloved watch in a gamble about two days ago.

A large tree branch nearly decapitated him as he looked up, but ducked, luckily, just in time. The soothing sound of cicada’s and crickets chirping calmed his mental rage and he stopped for a little while to rest. He closed his eyes and peacefully fell into a deep sleep filled with memories…

“Steve, what are you doing here?” A middle aged woman jumped as she stepped out of her apartment room.

“I just thought I’d come and visit with you for a while, Gran.” Steve smiled and pushed back a strand of black and blue hair. Gran stepped aside to let him in and he sank down into a small sofa as she went to the kitchen and grabbed some iced tea.

“Gran, I need a favar. I know you well enough that you will keep a secret for me, right?” Steve gave a hopeful glance at his grandmother who sat across from him and looked him straight into his dark eyes.

“You did somethin’, didn’t you, Steve?” Her soft eyes turned hard and bitter.

“Well, not exactly… I mean, it ain’t a terrible doin’, to punch a guy and leave him layin’, is it? I mean, like, outa self defense.”

Gran’s bitter hard stare converted to a fiery blaze, her green eyes literally tinted with the color of fire. “If you want my money, son, you can’t have it. I don’t give away loot to criminals.”

Steve rolled his eyes and stared down at the large cut running across his palm. He had injured it while jumping out a window at one of his friends’ house. He jumped from three stories high and landed on his feet.

“Gran, I ain’t no criminal. I told you it was self defense. Them guys was trying to cut me with a butcher knife!” Tears started welling up in his eyes and he fought to keep them back. “They was gonna kill me!”

“Well why didn’t you just say so?!” Her fiery eyes calmed and she stood up and walked into the kitchen. She came back carrying a small parcel. She handed it to Steve. “Take care of it. It was your grandfathers.”

Steve took the parcel and opened it. Inside was a shotgun and a switchblade, not to mention some ammo for the gun. “But, Gran, I ain’t have a license to carry a gun!”

“Pshhh, then go get one!” She placed her hands on her hips and smiled. “Take the money off the table and get out of here. That should keep you going for a while.”

Steve rose and stuffing the money in his pockets, opened the door and left.

While walking down the main corridor the most horrible, terrifying, blood curdling noise he could ever have heard sounded. Grans’ scream followed by a shot.

Not even thinking, he dropped his parcel and ran up the stairs. He stopped when he got to the corner of the hallway, glancing around to make sure the cost was clear. Grans’ apartment door was wide open, but she was nowhere in there. Then he turned around and looked across the hall at the elevator to find Gran. Dead.