Young Writers Society

Arwen pulled out her phone to take a picture of the body in front of her. The body, formerly known as Elise Winston, had its limbs splayed out in all different directions, an elegant nightgown turned into shreds, and an irreplaceable look of peace that had settled only after an incredibly annoying amount of screeching that a human shouldn’t be able to hear.

After taking the picture on her phone, Arwen grabbed the camera around her neck with shaking fingers and documented the body. A phone simply didn’t give her the high resolution she needed for her collection. The last photo she took looked more like the graphics of a horror game than a true murder she had seen with her own eyes. She looked at the photo and saw a lanky young man staring at her through it. She dropped the camera and plastered on a smile.

“Mr. Dupont,” she said. “How nice it is to see you here. Backup has been late today.”

“Oh, drop the title, Arwen,” he chuckled. “Please, call me Beau.”

Mr. Dupont had repeated that to her dozens of times, and he still couldn’t seem to get it to his head that she would never call him that. She would never get comfortable with him, or else she would be one step closer to being the next person on his list.

She cleared her throat and ignored his statement.

“Why again did you kill this lovely young woman?” Arwen asked, her voice strained as she tried to contain a yawn. “She seemed nice, even if she was boring. Did she not enjoy your party?”

“The party was probably the happiest I had ever seen her,” Dupont replied. Arwen could easily remember seeing the woman dance with plenty of men and stuff her face full of chocolates. It was a miracle she hadn’t gotten bigger than she already was, and an even bigger miracle that she had been able to dance with so many men. She wasn’t that rich, and didn’t even have an inheritance. The only thing Arwen thought it boiled down to was the men at the party having bad taste in women. And assassins usually did.

“In fact, she gave Charles a little too much joy,” he explained. “They seemed so in love, Arwen. Broke the poor man’s heart when she didn’t find interest in him afterward.”

“So a rogue killing?”

“I’m not that messy, Arwen.” He dusted off his shoulder and grabbed the arms of the woman before dragging her to the side. “She was married to the police chief. Things could get very messy very quickly if I didn’t do something.”

“I suppose,” Arwen told him. She didn’t enjoy talking about such dark things, but it was what she was paid to do.

She grabbed a mop leaning against the door frame and began to clean up the spot the body had laid.

Sleep held Arwen tightly as the faint sound of her alarm woke her up. The day was what she expected one to be after a murder; storming, sad, and boring. Rain pelted her foggy window as she woke up, and lightning sounded somewhere far off on the other side of the city. An angry driver yelled something she couldn’t make out beneath her apartment.

Arwen groaned as she hit her head on the cabinet above her bed before putting on her slippers and heading to her dusty kitchenette. The wood always had a slight mold scent, which clashed horribly with the rose air freshener she always sprayed a few feet away in the bathroom. She started making coffee and popped a piece of bread into the toaster.

Someone honked under her apartment. She looked down and saw a young man with raven hair and a smile on his face as he waved up at her. She waved back. He was driving a bright red convertible with the hood down, grinning as wide as someone could while rain slowly filled up their car. Arwen rushed to her closet, pulled on her police uniform, and headed out the door with a burnt piece of toast in hand.

“Seriously, Deryn?” she huffed. “You have got to get a new car.”

“Good morning to you too, baby sister.” He ruffled her hair as she got into her soaked car seat with a scowl. “Bad night?”

“I don’t even want to talk about it.”

Deryn gave her a sideways frown as he studied her for a moment. The light turned green and they started moving, rain spraying Arwen’s face and washing off her old makeup. She sighed and sunk lower into her seat, badly attempting to avoid the rain. She nibbled her toast.

“Need any breakfast?” he asked. “There’s a cafe up on Richard Street.”

“I’m good,” she growled. She swallowed her soggy toast and furrowed her brows at her brother. “Why couldn’t you take the minivan?”

“Why couldn’t you go buy yourself a car?”

“I just…” She shook her head. Any form of identification was deadly in Mr. Dupont’s eyes. She had lied to her brother about changing her name. She told everyone at the station a fake name. She never bought a car. She never stayed in the same apartment for more than a month. Most importantly, she had heated up a pan as soon as Mr. Dupont told her his rules and burned off her fingerprints. It was painful but worth it.

“There’s no reason you can’t,” Deryn told her. “You have the money; you’re just cheap. You won’t even buy yourself a nice apartment.”

“I don’t need a nice apartment,” Arwen hissed. “I’m saving for something.”

“For what?”

She had to lie to him again. Dupont had promised her that if she had enough money and worked for him long enough, she could invest in his company and become his coworker, not just an agent. It would be glorious; she would be the one deciding what powerful crime lords would get loans, what assassins would need what training, and who would be laid off. She would even decide who would be killed. If she was promoted, it would be none.

“Investments,” she told Deryn. He pulled into the worn parking lot of the station and unlocked the car doors. He sighed.

“Just…Be safe, okay? With whatever you’re doing.”

She looked back at him with a tight smile before entering the station. She went to the receptionist’s desk, where she covered when the receptionist was gone (or in this case, dead), and looked around for a hair tie. She pulled her hair up as Officer Santos approached her. He held a frown on his face as he held back a tear.

“What’s got you all worked up?” she chuckled, pulling her dark hair back into a bun. He approached her without a word and gave her a tight hug.

“Chief’s wife is gone,” he whispered, his shoulders shaking as her arms wrapped around him. He cried into her shoulder before lifting himself up. He left his shoulders on her hands.

“Elise has been murdered, Sophie,” he told her. “And with no reason. How could someone do something so cold?”

Arwen plastered on a frown and held his hand in hers, pulling it off her shoulder.

“The world is a cruel place. You knew that when you got into this job. ”

“I know, but…” he took a breath and looked at her with golden eyes. “What if it’s me next? Or you?”

Santos didn’t know how close she was to that assumption. But she wouldn’t tell him.

He just shook his head and pulled his other hand off her, leaning on the desk.

“Anyways, Chief is taking two weeks off. He needs someone to investigate the case.”

Arwen jolted. If she didn’t take this case, she would be next on Dupont’s list.

“I’ll take it,” she told him, a little too quickly. Santos eyed her with a bit of confusion, but no suspicion. She was relieved.

“You sure?” he asked. “It’ll be a tough job since you knew her and all.”

“I’ll be fine,” she promised. “I don’t want you to go through that.”

Santos just frowned. He had always been worried for Arwen. Not because she was weak, but because she was risky. She had climbed the edges of bridges and gone into the darkest parts of the city for this job, and for no other reason than to make sure she didn’t betray Dupont’s trust. She had already been shot in the shoulder, but she knew it was worth it. It hadto be.

“Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll go tell the others. Just promise not to get yourself killed. You know how that hotel is.”

“Promise,” she smiled. Santos enveloped her in a tight hug before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.” She slipped on her vest and belt before running to her police car in the rain.

Arwen only took about two turns before getting to Hotel Dupont. Her boss had bought it a long time ago not only for the extra income but also as a hiding spot for any crimes he wished to commit. She pulled into the underground garage and parked before running up the stairs. She ran down the plain white hallway behind the lobby before entering the ballroom. Dupont sat in one of the dining chairs, sipping his coffee and flipping through videos on his phone.

“Mr. Dupont,” she greeted him. “It’s urgent.”

“Arwen, you worry too much.” He took a sip of his coffee without looking up. “Everything’s been cleaned up. The body has a proper grave in the courtyard.”

“That’s not the problem,” she growled. “That woman had no reason to be killed. The police officers are deeply hurt by this.” She took a breath. “The only thing you’re doing by killing them off is getting more of them on your bad side.”

He just looked up at her with a blank, cold face. His pale skin made him look supernatural. She had never entirely ruled out the idea that he drank blood, but she had never wanted to find out. She knew there had to be a reason she could never help bury the bodies.

“Those police officers are weak,” he told her slowly. “Did you think I didn’t know that when I told Charles to kill that young woman? Or how about when William had to do the same thing to Officer Kelly? I thought you would have gotten used to this, Arwen.”

“I feel like some of the officers are on to me,” she explained. It wasn’t the first time she had taken on one of Dupont’sassassination cases; even though Santos had hidden his suspicion fairly well, some officers didn’t even seem to trust her with taking care of something as small as parking tickets. She had created too much of a pattern.

“Who?” Dupont asked. “We can get rid of them immediately.”

“No!” Arwen yelled. “I mean… That’s not necessary. It’s no one in particular. And you don’t want to get rid of the entire station.”

Dupont studied her for a moment before clicking his tongue.

“Don’t tell me you’ve grown affectionate for one of those law-loving idiots.”

“Of course not, Mr. Dupont,” she lied. “I would never be so stupid.”

“Good,” he smiled. He stood up and saunter over to her, wrapping his arms around her. “Because there was one part of our deal that I forgot to mention.”

“Mr. Dupont-”

“I need to carry on my name before I die,” he told her, jerking her chin up so she would look into his eyes. “And that requires a wife.”

“I…I-”

“Unless you don’t want to get everything you deserve,” he whispered. “A mansion, all the money you could dream of… Not to mention control of nearly all of the city.”

Arwen snapped.

“I never wanted that, Mr. Dupont,” she hissed. She pushed herself away from him and pulled her tazer out of her belt. She wouldn’t kill him. “All I wanted was the power to stop your killing streak. Money was just a bonus.” She sighed. “I’m breaking the deal.”

Dupont’s eyes flitted to the taser she held in her hands. He smiled. Arwen’s breath suddenly became rushed. He seemed too calm. He was prepared for this. He had expected it. She should have known.

“Two can play at that game, my lovely little detective.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a gun. Arwen’swhole body quivered.

“Now, before you become one of my next victims,” he spoke slowly, inching closer to her until the gun was pressed against her heart, “you have the chance to change your mind. Take part in our deal, fall in love with me, and have all the power you could ever dream of. You’ll even be able to get rid of the assassinations if you like.”

“I know you won’t give me that power,” she hissed. “No matter how hard I tried.”

“Keep your end of the deal,” he said quickly, “before I end it for you.”

A clock ticked in the background as time went on. The seconds turned into minutes. Minutes turned into hours. Arwen’sheartbeat went twice as fast.

She took a breath and looked into Dupont’s cold, gray eyes.

“No,” she told him. “I won’t take part in the deal.”

She stepped back farther and farther as Dupont’s fingers slid onto the trigger. She didn’t have enough room to run.

A bullet flew through the air.

A body fell. But it wasn’t Arwen’s.

Dupont lay still on the floor, his eyes pale and lifeless as his body came to a still. Arwen stood back in shock and looked up at the killer who stood at the golden ballroom doors. She began to cry.

“Deryn?”

Deryn’s jaw ticked as he stared coldly at his sister.

“Explain his deal, Arwin,” he said. He held the gun in his hand with his finger still on the trigger. “Before I start getting cocky.”

Hello Everyone! This is the first edition to my short stories series. I know I said I was quitting YWS, but I'm back after a needed break! I know this has a lot of typos and misuse of words, so if you can help me find them and point them out that would be great!

-Serrurie