ECHO [Rewritten - NaNoWriMo '16]

Chapter 1: A Game

A/N: Day 1 of NaNoWriMo...who is ready?? Alright, and here is chapter 1 of Echo :) don't forget to click on the music so you can have a nice jam while reading. I'm so excited to share this story, please enjoy. Don't forget to click the star for me! And share it with your friends! 

There was a small hallway tucked behind the rest of the police station. It was plain and short, with multiple doors, a couple benches clinging to the walls. Some people escaped back here while others actually had business to attend to. Sometimes I escaped back here, but today I had business to attend to. I was a rookie detective, and this was only my second case.

I towered over everyone at 6'2, with thick black hair that I shaved close to my skull, except for a small portion near the top. I had what was considered a generic male face with wide set eyes, strong jaw, and heavy brows. I wore the traditional business casual clothes, making sure that they were just a size larger so that it didn't reveal the fact that I exercised regularly. Better for people to underestimate you.

In my hand was a small manila folder. Inside were just a few pieces of paper. One was a mug of a young woman with vibrant blue eyes, and honey-colored blonde hair. Mascara was smudged around her eyes and her lips were chapped, but despite that, she was striking. Her name was Scarlet Clarke and she had been arrested exactly three days prior after being discovered with the body of one of her clients. She had been charged with prostitution, and assaulting a police officer during arrest. It was still being argued whether she had intentionally killed her client or it had been self-defense.

I came to halt beside the door that read 18F and peered through the square window that sat in it. There was the girl, her wrists looking dainty and breakable in the silver cuffs locked around them at the top of the table. Her eyes had bruises of exhaustion under them; her sin had a soft sheen to it. Prostitutes – I had discovered – were normally skittish, since they had gone through intense withdrawals and felt exposed without anything in their system. But Scarlet – other than being exhausted – looked different. She was too silent, too still, too attentive. The guard outside the door was watching me warily.

With a sigh, I took a step back and looked at him, "What's your name?"

"Banks."

"Banks, did you escort Miss Clarke here?" Wren asked.

"I did."

"Is this your first time interacting with her?"

Swallowing thickly, Banks said, "No, I'm on rotation in her block at night."

"What's your interpretation of her?" I crossed my arms, mindful of the file in my hand.

Banks paled and looked nervously towards the door as if she could hear him, "She's different man, I mean different. It's like, you don't have to be alone with her for more than five minutes and she knows all of your secrets."

"Uh huh," I nodded, barely restraining a smile. I turned to enter the room when Banks' hand wrapped around my forearm in a bruising grip.

Startled, I looked at him. Banks' eyes were wide with genuine fear, "You don't under. There is something weird about her, man."

His fear gave me pause. I leaned back to look through the window and stiffened. Scarlet's eyes met mine, the corners of her lips twisting into a hint of a smile. Confidence oozed from her pores. She owned the room. The handcuffs could've been jewelry. The jumpsuit, a fashion statement. Shaking my head, I opened the door and put on a coat of confidence.