Homocide
From Create Your Own Story
Rodneystoops (Talk | contribs) |
Rodneystoops (Talk | contribs) |
||
Line 1: | Line 1: | ||
- | After a few minutes of mental debate you write HOMICIDE on the line and close the file. Looking at the clock you see it reads 3:00 am. Yawning you stretch and head for the comfort of your bed. | + | After a few minutes of mental debate you write HOMICIDE on the line and close the file. Looking at the clock you see it reads 3:00 am. Yawning you stretch and head for the comfort of your bed. Early the next Monday you wake up to the sounds of eighties rock music blaring from your alarm clock. Through sleep filled eyes you read the red numbers, 5:00 am. Groaning you swing yourself out of bed, moving like a zombie you grab the cheap suit from the closet and head into the bathroom. After fidgeting with the shower you find the right tempature and wipe the remnants of sleep away with a thirty minute shower. In minutes you are wearing your suit and on your way out the door. You climb behind the wheel of your rusty orange four door car and join other early risers. By Six your parked at the police precinct. "mornin" the desk seargeant says with a wave, smiling you reply "sure is". Reaching the elevator you punch in the seven digit code and ride it up to the third floor. Stepping out you are greeted by a groggy room, full of desks, some with Detectives finishing paperwork and playing solitaire on their computers. Moving through it all you knock on the door with black letters reading Leiutenant Holmes. "Enter!". Taking a deep breath you open the door and go in. Holmes is a scrawny man with blue eyes and salt and pepper hair, a tough but fair man, your new boss. "good morning sir" you say stiffening like you did in the academy. Holmes looks you over as if you were a bad taste in his mouth, he grunts and says "alright rookie, first your gonna go down to the armory and sign out a firearm and a back up piece, then your gonna report to Detective Joe Wilson, he's the mountain sized bastard near the janitor's closet" "alright sir". You linger for a moment expecting a verbal dismissing but he glares at you sending the message without moving his lips. |
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | |||
- | |||
- | |||
*[[Head Down to the Armory]] | *[[Head Down to the Armory]] | ||
[[Category: Life Behind the Badge]] | [[Category: Life Behind the Badge]] |
Current revision as of 09:12, 29 November 2009
After a few minutes of mental debate you write HOMICIDE on the line and close the file. Looking at the clock you see it reads 3:00 am. Yawning you stretch and head for the comfort of your bed. Early the next Monday you wake up to the sounds of eighties rock music blaring from your alarm clock. Through sleep filled eyes you read the red numbers, 5:00 am. Groaning you swing yourself out of bed, moving like a zombie you grab the cheap suit from the closet and head into the bathroom. After fidgeting with the shower you find the right tempature and wipe the remnants of sleep away with a thirty minute shower. In minutes you are wearing your suit and on your way out the door. You climb behind the wheel of your rusty orange four door car and join other early risers. By Six your parked at the police precinct. "mornin" the desk seargeant says with a wave, smiling you reply "sure is". Reaching the elevator you punch in the seven digit code and ride it up to the third floor. Stepping out you are greeted by a groggy room, full of desks, some with Detectives finishing paperwork and playing solitaire on their computers. Moving through it all you knock on the door with black letters reading Leiutenant Holmes. "Enter!". Taking a deep breath you open the door and go in. Holmes is a scrawny man with blue eyes and salt and pepper hair, a tough but fair man, your new boss. "good morning sir" you say stiffening like you did in the academy. Holmes looks you over as if you were a bad taste in his mouth, he grunts and says "alright rookie, first your gonna go down to the armory and sign out a firearm and a back up piece, then your gonna report to Detective Joe Wilson, he's the mountain sized bastard near the janitor's closet" "alright sir". You linger for a moment expecting a verbal dismissing but he glares at you sending the message without moving his lips.