Hello everyone!
As I said in the last chapter update, this story is slowly nearing an end. That means that I will have to replace it with another Ziam story!
I have done this before, but I want o hold another vote just to make sure everyone is still on the same page in what they want, since it has been a minute.
I have two stories that I will post summaries and sneak peeks for down below. They are both Ziam centric, so please vote beside the title of the one you find most interesting.
Option 1:
No Crying Over Crime
Summary: It was the eighth murder reported in the span of two months. The wounds on the bodies were similar to one another. They were tortured before they were killed. It seemed as if each murder was fueled by personal affairs, but the victims had little else in common besides their infamous jobs.
It was anybody's guess who the serial killer was.
The people loved him. Supported his deeds. It framed the police as the bad guys for wishing to stop the good he was doing. But a murderer is a murderer, and he must be brought down. Even if different methods have to be explored to ensure his capture.
(Liam is a private detective hired by the police department to capture a tricky serial killer who has garnered public support. Zayn is a forensics investigator on the same team, frustrated by the lack of clues in the case.)
Sneak Peek:
"You're telling me, with all of these gruesome murders, there hasn't been a single speck of DNA evidence that could potentially link to a killer?"
"None," The brunette shook his head. "The killer's a mastermind, if I've ever heard of one. This is only the third scene I've worked in this case, and each kill seems to be meticulously planned. We're thinking that the killer knows his victims or stalks them for a while before making his move."
"His? You think the killer is a male?"
"Well, yeah. A lot of these men are very powerful in the world of crime. I think the women who work under them know not to mess with them. Besides, there's a clear difference in strength and height if they tried to."
"There are some notorious women who've killed men twice their size. I wouldn't say it's a feat unheard of. Never underestimate the cleverness of a woman."
"I-- I wasn't!" The officer quickly stated, a red blush forming at his cheeks before his whole face was turning red with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to say that a woman couldn't do this, I just-- I know that it's more likely to be a male given the circumstances. I-if it is a woman, I'm sure that she would also take the same amount of care. I just--"
"Horan, was it?" I interrupted with a small laugh, and he nodded rapidly.
"Niall."
"Niall," I greeted, "I understood what you meant. No sweat, yeah?"
"Yeah. Right. Sorry." He stood there silently afterwards, awkwardly swaying to and fro on his feet. Toes then heels touching the ground. Rhythmic.
"Maybe you can talk me through what you all suspected happened at this particular crime scene?" I suggested, and he was nodding along once more.
"Right. Yeah, I can do that," He gave a sheepish smile before turning and leading me to the front entrance. Then, he stopped and turned back to the crime scene, taking it all in. "We received the call today at around four p.m. from the man who owns the building. The body laid where it is now, right in the middle of the room. The victim is a man named Eli Palmer. He ran a prostitution ring, and we've taken him into custody before, but it seems he started right back up as soon as he was released."
"And the prostitutes?" I wondered. "What happened to them?"
"Some were taken into custody. We're sure there are more, but we don't have names for everyone." I scribbled a few notes down in my notebook that I brought everywhere with me, just in case. "Anyways, the owner says that the door was locked when he came in today, so we're thinking the killer either knows how to pick locks well, or he used another entrance like an air vent. We're still trying to figure that part out. As for the body, well, you've seen the damage. It's brutal and merciless. And the only evidence of DNA we've been able to find belongs to the victim."
"Why a meat factory?" I didn't know about any of the other crime scenes. I had no clue if there was a link between all of the locations or if they were just random deposit spots.
"Dark sense of humor?" Niall offered, and I shrugged my shoulders. I would have to read up on the other cases involved to really get a grip of things.
"Will I have full authorized access to previous case files involved?"
"I don't see why not. I mean, we hired you for a reason. We're stuck between a rock and a hard place, and there's no budging free. A fresh pair of eyes and an intelligent mind may be just what we need to crack this case opened. We're sort of hoping you'll find a missing link to pull everything together and tell us more."
"I hope I can, too." I looked around at the crime scene, hearing the crowd of people outside already sharing theories about what happened. I heard the alias leave several lips, all in support of the killer, wondering if they struck again, saying that they were glad another bastard was dead. There were no tears for any of the victims, and I wasn't sure I could even fault the citizens for not caring about lowlife scum being disposed of. However, murders were taking place, and it was our jobs to stop it from happening at all. A crime was a crime, even if nobody batted an eye over it or shed a tear.
An alias was all I had to begin with. No DNA, no suspect, not even a pattern on when they might strike again. Nothing but the infamous alias.
The Wraith.
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Option 2:
Cigarettes & Bloody Knuckles
Summary: He was a wildfire that wouldn't extinguish. The anger within him was far too vast for any one person to reach into his soul and ease the burden. He saw people laughing and smiling, and it infuriated him to no end. It was unfair.
He became violent rather quickly as his rage consumed him, taking out his misery on anyone who even dared to confront him. But the fighting didn't help. Nothing changed. He couldn't bring him back. He couldn't make her pay attention. He couldn't change the past. He couldn't forget the fact that he hurt someone else; the guilt only adding to his pain. He couldn't do anything.
Sneak Peek:
The blond's steps were quick and targeted-- he was obviously on a mission, and I did my best to keep up with him. We grew closer and closer to the dark-clothes figure, and then we were stopping altogether.
"Oi, Malik!" Niall practically shouted. "I told you before, there is not smoking on campus and no skipping class. These are two offenses I am going to have to report to Mrs. Gutierrez now. You've already been suspended twice this school year. One more could potentially mean expulsion. Do you want that to happen?"
Wordlessly, the lad pushed off of the wall and stood upright, turning to face the both of us. I held in my shock at the big, ugly bruise that occupied the skin of his cheek. It was a purple/black colour that took up far more space than I assumed possible. There was also a cut on his bottom lip, as if it had been bleeding not too long ago but he was ignoring it. There was a white scar alongside his left eyebrow, and I had to catch myself before asking how he received the scar. His face was bruised and beaten, but I could tell he was good looking nonetheless.
The next thing I noticed, apart from his face, were his red and raw knuckles. It looked as if he had punched them repeatedly against a wall that was finely reinforced, busting them open and making them bleed. They were scabbed over for the most part. And between two of those fingers dangled a cigarette. He handled it carelessly, like it didn't matter if it slipped or not. He flicked at the cigarette with his thumb, and I watched as some of the ashes fell away. They delicately floated down to the ground, blending in with the grass and dirt.
He wore a leather jacket that seemed tight enough to be a second skin layer over his own; an extra coat of protection. In fact, all of his clothing was black and standoffish. The boots on his feet looked heavy, like weights. They were only combat boots, but there were some rips and tears within the laces.
Finally, he lifted his eyes to look back at Niall, and the blonde seemed to tense under the gaze. All of the confidence he had in his speech seemed to leak away in an instant. I found myself gasping in surprise at the depth of his amber coloured eyes, making them flick over to me momentarily. There was a flame there, burning too bright to handle as it danced in the winds.
His eyes drifted back to focus on Niall, and he took an inhale of his cigarette. I noticed a tremble in Niall's balled fists by his sides.
"I don't care what you do," He replied in a voice that was softer than what I conjured up in my mind.
"You'll have detention for months," Niall threatened, but the way his voice wavered displayed weakness.
"We both know I wouldn't attend it," He shrugged before leaning against the wall again and breathing out some smoke.
"There's no smoking on school grounds!" Niall cried out. He moved forward and tried to grab at the guy's wrist to steal the cigarette from his hand, but the guy was faster. He stopped Niall's hand, fingers wrapped around his wrist, and shoved him back against the brick wall.
"Don't ever fucking touch me," He spat. Niall's eyes were wide as he looked into the fierce glare before him. He was nodding in an instant, all of his power completely seeped away by the leather clad lad before him.
"Put the cigarette out, and I won't report you," Niall tried to reason. I could see him physically trembling, and the guy in front of him noticed as well. His eyes lingered down to Niall's free hand that was balled into a fist. But Niall didn't seem like he was going to hit him. He seemed far too frightened to even try. "Please."
Slowly, after a tense moment of the guy just glaring down at Niall, he backed away and let him go from the wall. Niall rushed back over to me as the guy threw his cigarette onto the ground and stepped on it to put it out.
He didn't say a word as he glanced at Niall one last time. His eyes shifted over to me once more, as if he was trying to read and understand me, before he was turning away and disappearing around the corner. Only then did Niall relax and let out a heavy sigh. The pleasant smile on his face was gone and replaced be a sour look.
"Troublemaker?" I wondered, and Niall nodded as he rubbed at his wrist.
"Zayn Malik," He nearly spat out. "He's not someone you want to hang around. Not that he'd even let you. If you so much as look at him wrong, then it'll mean trouble for you. He's supposed to graduate this year, but I doubt that'll happen." He shook his head and let out a deep breath. "Come on, I'll take you to your literature class."
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Those are your options! I hope at least one of them catches your fancy.
Please let me know your opinions on the sneak peeks as well. :)
See you all with another update soon enough!