Photo courtesy of the Office Mango Horror Bites Challenge 6
The Smiling Assassin
“Ready?” Des asks.
Grace nods. She is used to the drill, though this is the first time she has been involved in the Smiling Assassin’s case, save for the paper trail. She has seen enough to disturb her sleep occasionally, thankful some of the photographs were black and white, not full colour. “Has she been prepped? She knows why I’m here?”
Des nods. “Seems willing enough. Guess I would be in her shoes. Now she’s awake.” His eyes meet Grace’s briefly, grim, before shifting away again, professionalism setting in.
“Room One?” Grace asks, moving towards the double doors at the ward entrance. Des nods again. She has her ID in her right hand already to display to Security stationed outside the door to the single room in which the vic is waiting. She flashes it at them, having to pause as they look more closely; precautionary. Grace stops, holding it out properly, colour photo clearly on show. “Media?” she says.
The guard nods briefly. “Vultures. After pictures, obviously.” They exchange a loaded glance. “You’re fine. She’s expecting you. Remember to cleanse way in, way out.” Grace is already heading towards the hand gel dispenser, gesturing to Des to follow. “Good luck,” the guard says. “Hope you get him after what he’s done.”
“We do too,” Des says, before Grace turns the handle and they are into Room One where Hannah Drew is waiting. She looks up, eyes wide, as they enter, though they have been expected for perhaps quarter of an hour now. Traffic was bad on the way in.
“Hello, Hannah,” Grace says quietly. The girl’s throat works, swallowing perhaps or seeking to speak. “I’m Grace. I’m here to talk to you; to see if we can help you. Try to find the man who did this to you. D’you want to nod if that’s okay? If you think you’re ready to try and help us?”
Hannah nods vigorously, though her eyes are blurry with unshed tears.
“I need you to hold your hand up if this is too much for you at any point and you want to stop. You’ll do that, won’t you?” The girl nods again, brushing a hand across one eye.
“I’m going to give you some paper and a pen, if that’s all right. I need you to tell me if you knew him – if you can give us a name.” Grace holds her breath. The girl had been unconscious on arrival, no chance of any interview; too traumatised afterwards. Small wonder.
My take on a horror piece involving a dentist's chair. Think I took this off on a slight slant, once again!