Run Rabbit Run Episode II

Michael Layford crouched beside Chloe's body. The police had already arrived and a crime scene investigation team were still examining the area. The medical examiner, Anabella Rose, a pretty woman with cropped dark hair and a slim figure was still checking the corpse.

"Find anything?" Michael asked
Anabella looked at him startled "Jeez, detective! I didn't see you there" she gasped
Michael tilted his head to one side "You're a little jumpy for a woman who works with the dead" he observed
Anabella rolled her eyes "This one's got me spooked" She admitted "Doesn't make any sense"
"How so?"
She pointed to the bloody stab wound in Chloe's stomach "This is the only place she was stabbed, the attacker didn't hit anything in her that would cause a quick death but the victim died almost instantly. It should have taken her a while to bleed out."
Michael knew why the girl had died so quickly, but it wasn't information that he was willing to share with just anyone, still, he needed to know how much information the medical examiner could get from the body so he pressed her further.
"What's your theory?"
Anabella shrugged "Not got much of one at the minute, a fast acting toxin or poison on the blade perhaps? We won't know until the post mortem is done though."
Michael nodded "You'll let me know what you find?"
"Sure" Anabella replied

Michael looked away from Chloe's body. In the distance, a few officers were trying to get rid of several onlookers, Michael had always wondered what it was about crime scenes and dead bodies that seemed to draw the general public and turn them into hoards of transfixed, gawking busybodies. Ironic that a scene of death attracted so much life.

Beside him, Anabella Rose turned Chloe's head.
"Damn flies" She sighed when several of the winged bugs flew out from beneath the corpse
Michael smiled at the flies, if he wasn't one hundred percent sure about who had killed Chloe before, he was now.
"Her attacker grabbed her from behind, looks like he ripped out some hair in the process" Anabella noted
Michael stood up and ran his fingers through his hair, the sun was making him sweat and he yearned for a cold shower. He decided he had seen all he needed to.
"I'll let you know about the post mortem" Anabella called after him as he walked away.

Michael climbed into his car, a sleek black porsche Cayman S and started the engine.
A few minutes later he was pulling up outside the home of one Jenna Atkins, the victim's best friend and the last known person to have seen Chloe before her murder.
He climbed out of the car, strolled up to Jenna's front door and knocked on it.
Jenna didn't take long to greet him. Her eyes were puffy and red, her grieving process already well underway.
"I'm Detective Michael Layford" He smiled "I'm investigating Chloe's murder and wondered if I could speak to you?"
Jenna nodded and stepped aside, granting him access.

They sat in the lounge, a large room with beige walls and bland furniture.
"I still can't believe she's gone." Jenna sniffed
"Do you know if Chloe had any enemies? Anyone who would want to hurt her?" Michael asked
"No, she's a good person. She's liked" Jenna replied
"You're sure. There isn't anyone? It's rare a person goes through life without someone taking a disliking to them" Michael pushed
Jenna looked at him for a moment in dibelief, then she repeated firmly "She's liked. She's made mistakes in the past but nothing that anyone would want kill her for"
"The mind of a killer is a strange thing" Michael insisted "People kill because of all sorts of things. Don't try to make sense of it"
Jenna said nothing
"So, still no enemies?" Michael asked
"How many times? No. No enemies"
Michael nodded. At first he had been under the impression that Chloe had no enemies too, but he never had to do much digging in deaths like these to uncover the truth. It had taken less time than he expected in Chloe's case, he had already gotten most of the story before he even saw the body.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a photograph of a lean, dark haired man.
"Do you recognise this person?" He asked, showing Jenna the photo
She looked at it quickly and sighed "This is Richard Malone. He wouldn't hurt Chloe"
"What makes you so sure?"
Jenna handed the photo back. "He's her boss. They get on well" She explained
"How well?"
"They were a couple" Jenna admitted
"And what about this woman" Michael said, producing another photo from his pocket, this time of a tall woman with black hair.
Jenna glanced at the photo and then glared at Michael but she didn't say anyhting
"Am I to understand by your silence that you don't recognise the woman in the photo?"
Still Jenna didn't speak
"Not to worry" Michael continued in an upbeat tone of voice "I can tell you who she is. This lady is Elsie Malone. Mr Malone's wife of nearly ten years. Now, Jenna, I'll ask you again, do you think Chloe had any enemies?"
"Fine. Richard is a rat but Elsie doesn't know about the two of them, I suppose though, if she had found out, she wouldn't have been Chloe's BFF." Jenna snapped "Happy now?"
Michael nodded "Thrilled, thank you"
"I don't like your tone detective" Jenna spat
Michael shrugged "Fortunately for me, that doesn't really matter" he said
"I'll be filing a complaint" Jenna informed him
Michael picked up the photographs and returned them to his pocket. Then he got to his feet and looked at Jenna "Feel free." he smiled "Though I don't recommend it. You see Jenna, I know what you are, what Chloe was, and if you were to upset me I could always send Chloe's enemy here before we get rid of it"
Jenna's skin quickly turned a sickly ashen colour "You think that's what this was? An order?" She spluttered
"I know it was." Michael nodded
"And you're on their side I take it?" Jenna frowned
"Actually, no. I'm not, but I'm not on your side either. I'm on our side. It's my job to send you all back where you came from"
Jenna's pupils grew larger and larger until her eyes were as black as night "I'm not going back" she growled
"You don't have much choice." Michael chuckled "You don't belong here. There are rules that allow you to stay but Chloe broke those rules and if you knew about it, which, let's be honest, you did, then you broke the rules too. For God's sake, you can put your eyes back right now though, a party trick like that doesn't scare me and I'm not here to collect just yet. Luckily for you Chloe's killer is a bigger threat to us than you are, but once that's sorted, I'll come and help you move back home... if you're still alive that is"
"I'll run" Jenna threatened
"Knock yourself out. I'll still find you" Micheal replied "Or something worse then me will. Anyway, pleasure meeting you. See you soon"
Jenna snarled, her mouth opened that little bit too wide and her teeth suddenly strectched into long pointed fangs, He nails grew quickly into claws and she stared dtraight at the detective.
"Don't be ridiculous" Michael sighed, he turned and walked out of the house back to his car.
It was only when he was driving away that he thought about Jenna.
"Fuckin' Demons" He sighed

"mum, my ticker's flipped again!"

Hello,

After "Run Rabbit Run" (my last blog entry, no idea where it came from by the way. But for someone who normally writes fantasy it was interesting to try a murder scene), I thought I'd write a little more about me.

Growing up in our house was a little different, for a time, it was not unusual to wake up and find a four foot oasis cross soaking in the bath tub. Mum is a florist and funeral flowers are just part of the job. I think most people would have thought we were slightly strange if they had walked into the house and seen the flower studded words of 'mum', 'dad', 'gran' or even a coffin spray lay in the hallway awaiting delivery and everyone keeping their eyes firmly on the dogs to make sure the flowers weren't stepped on. But for us it was normal and I suppose someone has to do it. When it comes to flowers, my mum is amazing and I have no idea how she does it. Being the daughter of a florist, people often think I too could whip up an arrangement or some sort of display but alas, my own creativity doesn't turn its hand to floristry all that well. That's definately mum's department (and I must admit it means that every year we have the best christmas tree and holly wreath on the street, even if I do say so myself!).

Aside from flowers, there was another unusual routine during my childhood that is still with us now. I was born with a condition called Supraventricular tachycardia (SVT) which

"causes episodes of a fast heartbeat. Tachycardia means a fast heart rate. Supraventricular means coming from above the ventricle. During an episode of SVT, the heartbeat is not controlled by the SA node (the normal timer of the heart). Another part of the heart overrides this timer with faster impulses. The source or trigger of the impulse in an SVT is somewhere above (supra) the ventricles, but the impulse then spreads to the ventricles".

On average during an attack of SVT my heart rate would suddenly shoot up to 190-200+ beats per minute. Occasionally the shout of "MUM, my ticker's flipped again!" would ring throughout the house prompting me and mum to sit quietly and wait for the SVT attack to pass like the hospital had advised.

Mum spent a long time in hospital with me when I was really young and I must admit, I'm glad I don't remember it. The hospital eventually stopped my heart and used a defibrillator to re start it at a normal beat. We just thought it was a condition that I would have for life and that it wasn't particularly dangerous. Then, in November of 2010 I had an SVT attack that was different to the ones I was used to. When it started I was hit with a wave of dizziness that was so intense it nearly took me off my feet. My heart was racing at 180 beats a minute but the strength of my pulse was weak. SVT attacks start and stop really suddenly and without warning. Usually, for me it's painless but this time I felt like my chest was burning from the inside out. The chest pain stopped as soon as the attack stopped, but it was obvious that I needed to speak to a doctor and find out what was happening.

So off I went to the doctor who in turn sent me for an ECG (a test where they check your heart by sticking a ton of little pads to you and letting a machiene take a reading) at the hospital. When I got the results I was devastated. My SVT was not quite as harmless as we had been led to believe. It turned out that I had a form of the condition called Wolff parkinson white (WPW) syndrome and one of the possible effects of the condition was sudden death. I've learnt as much as I can about my condition since that day and the risk of sudden death is extreamly low but when you first get a diagnosis like that your immediate reaction is flat panic. I felt like I had been told I was going to die, and soon. I must admit it changed my responce to the SVT "attacks", armed with the knowledge that it could be deadly it does scare me now more than it ever has but when something like this is put on you, I guess you just have to get on with it. I really struggled to come to terms with my condition and sometimes I still do, that said I have such a healthy respect for people who are less fortunate than I am. I honestly don't know how those who are terminally ill cope. There are so many horrible, life threatening conditions out there that mine fades into irrelevance when compared against them and every day I'm grateful that I don't have something worse than WPW. 

But even with that in mind, I was still petrified. I was told that I would need an ablation (to put it simply it's a procedure where a proffessor inserts a tiny laser into the heart through the groin and neck and then destroys the small part of the heart where the problems lies thus irradicating the condition). I went in for the procedure and I don't think I have ever been so frightened in my life. I hate hospitals, I hate needles and the thought of having a 'procedure' just freaks me out. It just seems like such a huge deal to me. Anyway the first procedure was not particularly successful. I didn't respond well to the drugs they gave me which meant I sort of came round while they were still working on me. My SVT was going insane while they were trying to fix it which made life difficult for the proffessor working on me and eventually they had to call the whole thing quits because I was confused about what was happening and was in a lot of pain. 

I have to go back for another ablation that they will perform with me under a general anaesthetic so at the minute I'm still WPW sufferer. Having been ill with what I can only describe as the MOTHER OF ALL COLDS (seriously, It knocked me right off my feet!) recently, I've found that my heart rate is unsteady quite frequently and can only assume that somehow my body being run down is having a negative effect on my WPW.

I'm glad to say that I think I'm finally on the way out of that now though and hopefully it won't be much longer before my next ablation. In the meanwhile, we'll stick to the traditional medical terms when dealing with my condition....

MUM! MY TICKER'S FLIPPED AGAIN!!!

(obviously now we ring an ambulance and don't just wait for it to pass.. that would be silly)

Steph
x

sooooo ill!

Just wanted to log on and offer my apologies to anyone who was trying to follow this blog. I've been quite ill for the past week and a bit so I haven't been feeling up to posting but I'm getting there slowly. Hopefully I'll have another new post up tonight and can start getting this back on track.
Best wishes
Steph

Run Rabbit Run

 
"Ring me when you get home. Let me know you're safe" Jenna demanded
Chloe rolled her eyes and hugged her friend
"I'll be fine" she insisted.

Chloe and Jenna had been friends since high school and Jenna's paranoia had always amused her, this time though, she was a little nervous. It had just turned ten thirty, the sun had set and the few streetlights in the area were glowing dully amongst the darkness of the night. Not long ago, Chloe wouldn't have worried about walking back from Jenna's house after hours. It used to be safe, but lately that had changed. People had been attacked, one girl had been killed and rumour had it that a large gang of youths hanging around the streets were to blame for the crimes.

Chloe lived about an hours walk from Jenna's place. She would normally get a taxi home but having just recently lost her job, money was tight so the taxi had become a luxury she just couldn't afford. She was mentally kicking herself now for not leaving Jenna's house earlier.

"Are you sure you'll be ok? You can stay here tonight if you want" Jenna offered
They broke out of the hug.
"Thanks Jen but honestly, I'll be perfectly fine. You're such a worry wart!" Chloe laughed even though she was trying to convince herself more than her friend.
Jenna nodded "I'll see you tomorrow then. Still ring me though"
"I will, I will" Chloe replied. She waved to Jenna and walked away from the house, after a few steps she heard her friend's door click shut.

She put her head down and planted her hands in her pockets, shuddering more from anxiety than cold. She considered running home but talked herself out of it.
'There's only me out here' she thought to herself 'nothing to be scared of, it's safe'
Her footsteps were loud and deliberate on the pavement, she tried to stride with confidence.
Each time she made it to one of the pockets of light from the streetlamps, she breathed a sigh of relief. As though somehow the faint yellow glow ensured her safety. It didn't of course, it just brought a false sense of security and small comfort.

Thirty minutes later, Chloe had relaxed into the walk. She was actually enjoying it and had decided that she was glad for the excercise. She used to be a good runner, she even won awards in school for it, but it had been so long since she'd run or walked anywhere that she could already feel the strain and tension in her thigh muscles. She vowed to join a gym as soon as she found a new job.
Her recently discovered calm was shattered however, when she rounded a corner and almost walked right into a complete stranger.
The shock made her body jolt, as though electricity had passed through her system.
"Sorry" She gasped "I didn't see you"
The stranger nodded and continued on his way. He was tall and wearing a long black coat, his hair fell down to his neck, it was dark, possibly brown but it looked more black in the darkness. Chloe suddenly heard a sigh. She glanced behind herself to see the man snap his fingers in frustration, as though he had forgotton something. He changed direction and began walking behind Chloe.

Immediately she felt safer. Now she was not alone in the darkness. As some of the fear vanished, Chloe realised she was tired and she fell into a pace that she was more comfortable with, waiting for the man to pass her, but he didn't. He had been walking faster than her, she was sure of that. He had slowed down when she did. She listened hard for his footsteps and guessed from the sound that he couldn't be more than five feet behind her. She glanced back at the stranger. He was smiling but it wasn't friendly, it was a smile that made her uncomfortable. He began to mutter something that Chloe couldn't hear. She tried to ignore him and sped up once more but he quickened his tread too and his muttering grew louder, now she could hear.

"Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run" he almost growled
Fear stabbed through Chloe causing a pins and needles sensation to crawl over her skin.
Every part of her wanted to follow his advice, to run as quickly as she could away from him. She decided to do just that. Chloe shot into a full sprint and to her horror, he gave chase
"Here comes the hunter with his gun, gun, gun" he shouted, a disturbing laugh colouring his tone.
Chloe let out a sob, she wasn't crying, she was too scared to cry but it was like an involuntary sound. She tore down the street as fast as she could, her legs screamed in protest, the muscles aching. Her breath came in fierce, painful gasps that hurt her throat and she could feel her heart hammering in her chest. Chloe's entire body had moved into panic mode, adrenaline flooded her system, feeding her muscles, making them work harder than she could normally. She stumbled but caught herself and continued to run. She didn't want to look back, didn't want to know how close he was but she couldn't stop herself. He was almost on top of her, the same sickening smile on his face. Chloe yelped and tried to run faster but she was already going as fast as she could.

In one swift motion he reached out, wrapped his fingers into the hair on the back of her head and stopped running, dragging Chloe to a halt.
She cried out, feeling some of the hair tear from her scalp
"Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run" He laughed
"Please" Chloe begged, her fingers clawed at his hand, desperately trying to free herself from his grip.
"Don't give the hunter his fun, fun, fun" He whispered

Chloe screamed so loud it hurt. She wriggled and kicked but he was so strong it seemed to have no effect. He didn't tell her to be quiet, he didn't seem to care if anyone heard. He was calm and he remained that way even when he produced a knife from his coat. He held the blade up in his free hand where Chloe could see it.
"HELP, SOMEONE HELP!" She half bellowed, half screamed
But no one was coming, no one would help.

The moonlight danced on the knife's blade and then in a motion so fast it was hardly visible, the man slammed the blade into her stomach.
There wasn't as much pain as she thought there would be. Shock was contolling her keeping the worst of the pain at bay. She reached down to where the blade pierced her skin and felt the hot, wet blood trickling over her fingers. The stranger looked Chloe in the eyes, watching the life fade from her.
"Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil" He smiled
Then he dropped her lifeless body, wiped his blade on his coat and walked away into the darkness of the night.

About the Author!

First and foremost I think it's best that I introduce myself.

My name is Steph and I'm twenty four years old. I could talk about my family and friends or my pets or my current employment status etc. But, since this blog is mainly reserved for writing, I thought I would instead focus on the point at which I decided I wanted to write for a living and how things have progressed from there, so here goes: 

I first realised I loved to write back in high school. I found I was always at my happiest when I was scribbling away at a plot or developing a new character in the back of my maths book. I hated school, passionately, and I only ever enjoyed English and Drama. My teacher for both these subjects, was a fiesty, funny, energetic lady by the name of Ms Mezzone. She became a real insperation to me and always encouraged my writing.

Back then, though, my dreams were a slightly different shape, I focused my energy on acting and really wanted to build a career out of that instead.
Drama gave me such a thrill and I loved the idea of learning a script and then shaping it to fit into a performance. I think the task of having to ensure the right emotion was present when delivering lines was one that I found particularly attractive. On reflection it's obvious to me that although I did love acting, the writing stayed with me. I never stopped doing it, but it became a hobby and performance arts became my career choice.

Naturally, when I left school I went on to study Performing arts at college and it was on that course that the writing bug bit me hard really.
One of our assignments was to write a short script, I can't recall why we had to do it, but I'm so glad we did because the form tutor offered me the opportunity to flesh out my written piece, cast it, direct it and put it on for one night, I didn't take much convincing and immediately got to work on my script. It was a comedy, based around a park bench and the unusual (and often eccentric) individuals that used or passed the bench in a single summers day.
The play was entitled 'Bench Life' and the audience reaction to it gave me a bigger adrenaline rush than I'd ever experienced. I did act in 'Bench Life' but the fact that it was my own material recieving applause was much more exciting than simply performing.

All this time I had continued to write in my spare time, and having realised after 'Bench Life's success that I had enjoyed it so much, I changed my mind about my career. I decided I wanted to write novels.

I've always been quite a creative person and I love writing fantasy.

Don't get me wrong, I think it's powerful and effective when the entertainment industry challenges a viewer or reader with a harsh reality or something to make them think, and I'm not denying the true genius (and importance) of films such as "Schindler's list" or books like "To kill a mocking bird", that said I've always been a firm believer in just entertaining the audience. I've never really wanted to 'challenge' a reader, instead I wanted (and still aim for) them to be able to dive into the lives of my fictional characters and just escape their reality while they read. I think fantasy is perhaps the best genre for this, basing a book in a land where the possibilities are endless and magic is as real as you or me, demands that the reader suspends reality for a short period and that, in turn, offers escape.

Based on this I turned my attention to a short story that I had first started writing in school. The title of which (at the time) was "The Black Music Box" and all I really had at that point was a talking cat, a young girl and a black music box that had some sort of sinister secret. It was only a few pages long but once I began plotting it out it grew and grew. Now it's title is different, it's characters are developed, familier and have grown in numbers and the plot (which is almost completely different to that first draft) has been split into three, turning what was once a short story in the back of  a work book, into a trilogy that I hope will be well recieved. As I write this, I am in the editing process of book one in the trilogy and am seriously considering Kindle publishing as the way forward but only when I am absolutely certain that I've done the best I could.

I've also returned to scriptwriting and am working on a mini series that I hope to post onto Youtube towards the end of this year.
And that's not all, the recent offer of an opportunity to ghost write an autobiography was just too good to pass up on and hopefully that process will begin in the next few months.

It's odd when I think back to the choices I made in school. Strange that I didn't really ever think about writing as a career move and now, it's pretty much all I think about. But I guess you live and learn. All I know is that reading fantasy captured and expanded my imagination and writing it allows me to build on that. The beauty of a book you write is that you really can make anything happen, create any outcome, change anything you like and in a world where it's possible (and frequent) to feel a complete lack of control, writing fantasy provides my escape and I wouldn't change it for a million pounds (that said if you would like to offer me a million pounds to test the previous statement, I would like to point out that I retain the right at any time to go back on my word)

Steph 

Why Blog?

As someone who dreams of being a successful, proffessional (and hopefully full time) writer in the future, it's come to my attention that one of the best ways in which to advertise your writing in today's world is to have an online blog. So this is mine, I would ask anyone reading this to bear with me (or if you're reading this in the future, it might be better to scan through to a later blog as my aim is to improve over time). I've named it 'Write, Wrong and all things in-between' because primarily it's for (and about) my writing but I'd also like to use it to record other things in my life. So, here is what I hope 'Write, Wrong and all things in-between' will deliver to the reader(s) (assuming, of course, that I have any!):

• Short stories, You know, the wierd and wonderful ones that pop into your brain when you're not really up to much!
• A blog, much like a diary, that shares my views on the day to day happenings of my life... think Adrian mole (hopefully minus the obvious, although admittedly hysterical, delusions of grandeaur)
• Anything else that I happen to type up.... becuase I can, so ner!

Well, that's it in a nutshell.

Steph