Last Valentine's Day Part Three_Photograph of your dreams_Execution Day Jitters_The monster in t
Catalog Guide:
Last Valentine's Day Part Three
The case was closed. The District Attorney had charged Nick Amberly with the murder of Kathy Lockhart, and he was ready to go to trial. As far as everyone was concerned, it was over. Detective McClay knew he should be workiwww.onedoor.ccng on another case, but he wasn’t. Though all the evidence pointed towards Nick when McClay arrested him, now his sixth sense was ringing like an alarm bell. Something’s missing, he thought. No doubt he drove her out there, but there’s no sign of a struggle. Why didn’t she put up a fight? Her case file seemed to have a permanent place on his desk, and for good reason. As m...
Photograph of your dreams
She clicks the button of her film camera, capturing the gleeful faces of graduates huddled together in the lobby of the university. The lobby, sterile, colourful and featureless contrasts sharply with the warm humanity captured inside these photographs. She clicks the button of her camera again, and she clicks it again and when the click weakens she knows that there is no film left. The pride on the faces of the graduates washes away at the hollow click, leaving only disappointment. This almost breaks her heart. “I’ll be back”, she says, doing her very best to retain some of their lost happine...
Execution Day Jitters
TW*** Language and ViolenceOn the evening before the execution, I drank eight cups of coffee, paced the house for a total of eighteen-hundred steps, tried on three press conference outfits, bought new makeup on Amazon, ate two tubs of double fudge, rearranged the living room furniture, and re-watched my recommendation for execution. The murder case was straight forward and easy to prosecute. Yes, I was confident—more confident than I had been on my other capital cases—of the defendant’s guilt. Hell at sentencing, I pushed Judge Marvis for execution, and yet I could not sleep. The house began c...
The monster in the basement
Scrape... scratch...scrape...Jim can hear the monster's claws scraping against the cement floors as it creeps closer-he can see the eerie shadow closing in, the darkness of the illumination a haunting black. Jim can feel how the room grows cold, like Jack Frost has whistled an icy melody into the air. Jim only huddles closer to the wall, as he shakily hides in the little corner behind the water heater.He had never meant for any of this to happen, he hadn't wanted to take the late shift, he hadn't wanted to stay here, he hadn't, he hadn't, he hadn't.The shadow of the monster moves in, cloaking ...