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fandomweekly2024-08-29 03:15 pm
pitchblackrenegade) wrote in fandomweekly2024-08-29 03:15 pm
Entry tags:
[#231] Wrong Place, Wrong Time (Original Work)
Theme Prompt: Mystery
Title: Wrong Place, Wrong Time
Fandom: Original Work
Rating/Warnings: Teen (discussions of murder, brief mentions of a dead body
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 840
Summary: It wasn't the first time the three misfits had found themselves tangled in a mess, but a murder? That was definitely new.
It wasn't the first time the three misfits had found themselves tangled in a mess, but a murder? That was definitely new. The storm had come out of nowhere, lightning splitting the sky like the wrath of an irate deity. In the midst of it all, their daytrip to the countryside had taken a decidedly macabre turn.
Liam was the first to speak. "Well, this is a fine mess," he muttered, peering out of the rain-streaked window of the dilapidated cottage they had taken refuge in. The body, a rather unfortunate addition to their evening, lay sprawled on the floor, eyes vacant and lifeless.
Isabella snorted. "A fine mess? Leave it to you to understate the discovery of a corpse, Liam." She leaned against the creaky wooden table, arms crossed, her gaze never straying from the cadaver. She wasn’t one for dramatics, but the situation was undeniably grim.
Ethan, the third of their peculiar triumvirate, was pacing, and his mind was working overtime, as it always did. "The lightning strike... it hit just as we arrived." He glanced at Isabella and Liam, hoping they’d follow his line of thought without him having to spell it out. Addressing people’s minds directly rather than their faces was more his style.
Isabella rolled her eyes. "Yes, Ethan, we all noticed the dramatic entrance. But how does that connect to our dearly departed friend here?" She gestured towards the body with a flick of her wrist.
Liam, ever the reluctant mediator, sighed. "Let’s not forget, we found him next to the car. And the car... well, it’s not exactly unscathed." He pointed to the window, beyond which a vehicle sat, its hood marred by a blackened scar where the lightning had struck.
Ethan nodded vigorously. "Precisely. The lightning didn’t just strike the car. It struck him." He paused, letting the words hang in the air, a mordant smile creeping onto his face. "But that’s not what killed him."
Isabella raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what, pray tell, did? Was it the sheer existential dread of being stuck with us?"
"Very droll, Isabella. No, our friend here was dead before the lightning struck." Here, Ethan pointed to the body’s neck, where a faint, purplish bruise was just visible. "Strangulation. Someone wanted him dead and used the storm as a cover."
Liam’s eyes widened. "So, the lightning strike was a red herring?"
Ethan nodded. "Exactly. A rather fortuitous one for the murderer, I’d wager."
The trio fell into a contemplative silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The rain pelted the windows with relentless ferocity, the storm outside mirroring the tempest of questions swirling in their minds.
Isabella, never one to sit idle, broke the silence. "So, who among us is Hercule Poirot?" Her tone was laced with irony, but there was an undercurrent of genuine curiosity. "Because unless one of you has been moonlighting as a detective, I suggest we call the authorities and let them sort this out."
Liam shifted uncomfortably. "And tell them what? That we found a dead body next to our car, which just so happened to be struck by lightning? They’ll think we’re mad."
"Not to mention," Ethan interjected, "we’re the strangers here. Who’s more likely to be suspected?"
Isabella’s eyes narrowed. "So, what then? We play detective ourselves? I didn’t sign up for a murder mystery weekend."
Liam chuckled despite himself. "Well, it’s not like any of us signed up for this. But maybe we should figure out who this guy is first. It might give us a clue about who wanted him dead."
Ethan nodded, his mind already racing down a dozen different pathways. "Agreed. Let’s start with the car. There might be something there that tells us who he is."
They ventured outside, braving the torrential downpour. The car, an old sedan, looked even worse up close. The lightning had done a number on it, but as they peered inside, something caught Liam’s eye.
"Here," he said, reaching into the glove compartment and pulling out a wallet. He flipped it open, revealing an ID card. "Jonathan Reed. Does that name ring any bells?"
Isabella shook her head. "Nope. Never heard of him."
Ethan hummed in thought before speaking. "Wait. I think I have. Isn’t he the guy who wrote that exposé on the local crime syndicate? The one that mysteriously disappeared a few weeks ago?"
Liam raised his eyebrows. "You think this is him? But what would he be doing here?"
Isabella sighed. "Maybe hiding out? Trying to lay low until things cooled off?"
"That would make sense. But it also makes him a target. If someone from that syndicate found him..."
Ethan finished the thought. "They’d want to silence him. Permanently."
The trio exchanged glances, a silent agreement passing between them. They had stumbled upon something far more dangerous than they had anticipated. And now, they were entangled in a deadly game of cat and mouse.
Isabella’s lips curved into a sardonic smile. "Well, looks like we’re in it now. Might as well see it through."
Title: Wrong Place, Wrong Time
Fandom: Original Work
Rating/Warnings: Teen (discussions of murder, brief mentions of a dead body
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 840
Summary: It wasn't the first time the three misfits had found themselves tangled in a mess, but a murder? That was definitely new.
It wasn't the first time the three misfits had found themselves tangled in a mess, but a murder? That was definitely new. The storm had come out of nowhere, lightning splitting the sky like the wrath of an irate deity. In the midst of it all, their daytrip to the countryside had taken a decidedly macabre turn.
Liam was the first to speak. "Well, this is a fine mess," he muttered, peering out of the rain-streaked window of the dilapidated cottage they had taken refuge in. The body, a rather unfortunate addition to their evening, lay sprawled on the floor, eyes vacant and lifeless.
Isabella snorted. "A fine mess? Leave it to you to understate the discovery of a corpse, Liam." She leaned against the creaky wooden table, arms crossed, her gaze never straying from the cadaver. She wasn’t one for dramatics, but the situation was undeniably grim.
Ethan, the third of their peculiar triumvirate, was pacing, and his mind was working overtime, as it always did. "The lightning strike... it hit just as we arrived." He glanced at Isabella and Liam, hoping they’d follow his line of thought without him having to spell it out. Addressing people’s minds directly rather than their faces was more his style.
Isabella rolled her eyes. "Yes, Ethan, we all noticed the dramatic entrance. But how does that connect to our dearly departed friend here?" She gestured towards the body with a flick of her wrist.
Liam, ever the reluctant mediator, sighed. "Let’s not forget, we found him next to the car. And the car... well, it’s not exactly unscathed." He pointed to the window, beyond which a vehicle sat, its hood marred by a blackened scar where the lightning had struck.
Ethan nodded vigorously. "Precisely. The lightning didn’t just strike the car. It struck him." He paused, letting the words hang in the air, a mordant smile creeping onto his face. "But that’s not what killed him."
Isabella raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what, pray tell, did? Was it the sheer existential dread of being stuck with us?"
"Very droll, Isabella. No, our friend here was dead before the lightning struck." Here, Ethan pointed to the body’s neck, where a faint, purplish bruise was just visible. "Strangulation. Someone wanted him dead and used the storm as a cover."
Liam’s eyes widened. "So, the lightning strike was a red herring?"
Ethan nodded. "Exactly. A rather fortuitous one for the murderer, I’d wager."
The trio fell into a contemplative silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The rain pelted the windows with relentless ferocity, the storm outside mirroring the tempest of questions swirling in their minds.
Isabella, never one to sit idle, broke the silence. "So, who among us is Hercule Poirot?" Her tone was laced with irony, but there was an undercurrent of genuine curiosity. "Because unless one of you has been moonlighting as a detective, I suggest we call the authorities and let them sort this out."
Liam shifted uncomfortably. "And tell them what? That we found a dead body next to our car, which just so happened to be struck by lightning? They’ll think we’re mad."
"Not to mention," Ethan interjected, "we’re the strangers here. Who’s more likely to be suspected?"
Isabella’s eyes narrowed. "So, what then? We play detective ourselves? I didn’t sign up for a murder mystery weekend."
Liam chuckled despite himself. "Well, it’s not like any of us signed up for this. But maybe we should figure out who this guy is first. It might give us a clue about who wanted him dead."
Ethan nodded, his mind already racing down a dozen different pathways. "Agreed. Let’s start with the car. There might be something there that tells us who he is."
They ventured outside, braving the torrential downpour. The car, an old sedan, looked even worse up close. The lightning had done a number on it, but as they peered inside, something caught Liam’s eye.
"Here," he said, reaching into the glove compartment and pulling out a wallet. He flipped it open, revealing an ID card. "Jonathan Reed. Does that name ring any bells?"
Isabella shook her head. "Nope. Never heard of him."
Ethan hummed in thought before speaking. "Wait. I think I have. Isn’t he the guy who wrote that exposé on the local crime syndicate? The one that mysteriously disappeared a few weeks ago?"
Liam raised his eyebrows. "You think this is him? But what would he be doing here?"
Isabella sighed. "Maybe hiding out? Trying to lay low until things cooled off?"
"That would make sense. But it also makes him a target. If someone from that syndicate found him..."
Ethan finished the thought. "They’d want to silence him. Permanently."
The trio exchanged glances, a silent agreement passing between them. They had stumbled upon something far more dangerous than they had anticipated. And now, they were entangled in a deadly game of cat and mouse.
Isabella’s lips curved into a sardonic smile. "Well, looks like we’re in it now. Might as well see it through."