Two for one – posts, that is. For this week anyway.

The following is my latest entry for the word prompt site, Creative Copy Challenge.

The challenge words are in bold.

Creative Copy Challenge #372

Lamplight shadows stood guard over a deserted path. Fog wound its damp fingers around buildings darkened for the night ahead. It was the perfect scene for murder.

Lieutenant Michael Stapleton hoped to change the script on the city’s latest serial killer. Dressed in black with a baseball cap tugged low over eyes surveying a killer’s playground, Michael’s gut knew tonight was the night.

His partner, Detective Lucas Scott, slouched in the passenger seat, may have looked bored but Michael knew better. His quick, dry wit hid the soul of a cop. One who had seen the worst man had to offer.

“Twelve o’clock.”

Michael followed his partner’s gaze and spotted him. Sole-creped shoes made a silent journey over the cracked pavement toward the shop’s blackened entry. Above the shop, the new owner slept with a wistful, innocent smile caressing her dreams.

She did not know she had been stalked. For weeks. But Michael knew. He and Lucas would be damned if the killer got away with another vicious attack.

With a silent nod, Michael and Lucas circled the building. Breaking glass was a punch to the silent night as Michael took off running.

“Police. Get your hands up. Scott, he’s rabbiting.”

Lucas rounded the building in pursuit. The killer had a long lead but Michael was closing fast. Racing through a littered lot, the killer vaulted over decaying trash. Michael saw him head for an abandoned warehouse.

Gun drawn, Michael flattened against the side of the building. A chemical stench slapped his senses in repugnant reply.

“This is the only way out,” Lucas panted.

The rusted, windowless structure laughed at the thought of prey, an insert in a cage of no return. Or so Michael hoped.

“There’s no way out, Andersen. Come out with your hands up.”

Gunfire peppered in response.

“Don’t you think this is a bit sudden,” came Lucas’ droll reply from beneath the shield of Michael’s body. “You know this isn’t my first rodeo.”

Michael’s reflex action sprang from memories of a partner he could not save.

“Don’t get any ideas, Scott. Let’s figure how we get him out of there. With or without the body bag.”

“Now that’s a format I could get behind.”

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Live…Laugh…Love

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