the life of a homicide detective | Teen Ink

the life of a homicide detective

November 29, 2013
By artisticdemon BRONZE, Winter Haven, Florida
artisticdemon BRONZE, Winter Haven, Florida
1 article 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
"i became insane with long intervals of horrible sanity" ~Edgar Allen Poe~


Waking in an unfamiliar environment that smelled of chemicals and rotting flesh, Michael Frederickson had no clue what was going on. Something was tied tightly around his head preventing him from viewing his unpleasant quarters or the monster who put him there. He tried to remember what happened before. The morning prior to his awakening in this place was a blur. He remembers one thing, a bouquet of roses he had bought for his lover, Ann Marie. He was going to propose to her on this night that he now spends wondering where he is and what that rank smell could possibly be.

Suddenly a door is opened and footsteps tap into the room growing closer and closer. The occasional squeak of the shoes on the floor signal the rubber of dancing shoes. His captor was either on his way to a formal event or dressed for his funeral. Either way this was not going to end well for poor Michael Fredrickson and he know it too. Sweat dripped from his forehead into his cheek. He didn’t move, didn’t struggle for the ropes and chains around his body and wrists were already slicing into his skin his captor ripped the duct tape from his lips leaving him gasping and his cheeks and jaw raw from the sting. Unable to say anything as his captor circles him like a vulture to a dying animal. His fear overwhelming all other senses.

“Do you have any idea what your doing here?” a mans voice sounded from behind him, husky and foreign as if hailing from Russia or Germany. The smell mixed the sound together and his head filled with fog, he became more confused. “I guess not. Michael Fredrickson. You are a very interesting specimen. I have been watching you and miss Marie.” The man was handling some sort of metal equipment. The loud clanking made Michaels head pound and his heart leap into his throat. “I was actually thinking of killing her instead of you just to see how you would react” his words hung in the air and caused Michael to loose the air in his lungs.

“don’t touch her.” he whispered his voice hoarse and dry. Suddenly a sharp pain struck his skull and he found himself smacking concrete with his cheek. The pain was sharp and pressure was applied to his skull. He felt his captors dancing shoe on his exposed cheek and he was pressed down into the concrete till he was almost suffocated. He was then pulled off the ground and dragged into a chair. He groaned with discomfort as the tape was put back onto his mouth.

“Now now don’t be so hasty. I haven’t touched her. Yet. Now stay still.” fear struck Michael like the blade that sliced into his torso. The sting crawled up from his lower left ribs to his right collar bone; he ground his teeth trying not to give his captor the satisfaction of hearing him scream. Then the blade proceeded to make another slash on his chest the opposite way to form an X on his chest. Fear gripped him. He knew this man, not personally but from a case he‘d been working on for months on end. The X on his chest was the signature of a recent serial killer. As a homicide detective, Michael had been trained to act according to the situation; though this was not in the course handbook.

A sharp pain in his hands interrupted his thoughts as a small nail pierced through his hands connecting them the salt from his sweat made the pain even less bearable then it was. Tears swam down from his eyes what didn’t get soaked up in the blindfold made there way down his cheeks to his chin and dripping to the floor. “you know the only thing I don’t know about u Michael is what your inners look like. Shall I take a look?” a sharp zzzzzz sound of a saw echoed through the room. He tensed waiting for the saw to slice his skin when suddenly a single gunshot was fired from somewhere unknown. The man let out a brutal yell but stayed up. She must’ve shot him to get his attention.

“Let him go Mr.Romanoph. Put your hands up and get on the ground!” a woman’s voice yelled from somewhere behind him he recognized her as his partner Samantha Mellor. “I said get on the ground!” she said assertively. He heard his captor sink to his knees beside him and her small footsteps hurry to him. His huge form hit the ground and the man grunted with anger and frustration. Handcuffs were secured onto the man and he was dragged out side by the tiny woman. Michael heard her again come running towards him and his restraints were loosened and untied gently so as to not make his injuries worse. The blindfold was pealed off his eyes to reveal Samantha looking down at him, his big brown eyes filled with concern and her auburn hair a tangled stressed out mess. “come on lets get you out of here.” slowly she ripped the duct tape off his mouth and helped him up yanking the nail out of his hands. He yelled in pain. “sorry” she put his arm around her shoulders helping him walk. “ an ambulance is already here.”

Once outside he squinted at the light as paramedics took him from Samantha and put him on the stretcher. He looked to his right as someone ran up to the stretcher. Ann looked almost hysterical. Her green eye more luminous from crying to much. Her blonde hair whipped around her face from the wind, strands stuck to her cheeks where her tears streamed. Michael reached up and touched her cheek grateful to see her so unharmed before darkness slowly engulfed his vision and he went unconscious.

He awoken once again in an unfamiliar place but this time there was light instead of darkness and he was grateful. He looked around to seen Ann with her head down beside his hip her hand clutching his bandaged one gently so as not to hurt him. The heartbeat monitor beeped a steady rhythm that lulled him back to sleep. His new reassuring safety was comforting enough; the fact that he’d caught one of Minnesota’s most deadly serial killers was a plus as well.


The author's comments:
i was watching a video on YouTube and thought about what it would be like to be captured and tortured so i thought on it and came up with the short story of Mr. Romanoph and detective Michael Fredrickson. enjoy!

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