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Go Compare A Murder

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“She was laughing maniacally, this woman… i don’t know her but she was laughing as she left the house” Officer Scrounge looked this eyewitness deep in the eye and slammed the table.
“What was the color of her hair?” he asked in his calm deep voice that voked agency. Gary the eyewitness cowered in his chair as he muttered…
“Blonde”
Just blonde alone, no other words, Gary had done nothing wrong, he just saw a thing that could help the investigation. Gary is ginger and has a few freckles on his face, his teeth are a bit yellow, he was a bit rough around the edges, he could use a hair trim and some beard oil because that beard is rough.
“Speak up boy!”.
He says he is fithteen years old, and he is a little scared right now.
“Sit up, it’ll help” Officer Scrounge slurred but in that smooth voice of his. Gary sits up in his seat and strokes that ugly mutt on his face, he smiles in a weird manner and repeats the word “Blonde” but this time it felt misogynistic. Officer Scrounge writes “blonde” in his notepad and looks at Gary intently.
“How old did you say you were again gaz?”. Gary looks at his hand to be greeted by a rubbed out pen, he sweat the ink away, he starts to sweat from different places all at once until.
“Sixteen, sir” he pauses and gulps. “I am sixteen years old”. Saying it more confidently the second time.
“How old are you really, because before you said you were fithteen, now you say that you are a whole year older” Gary takes a sip of water. “Also to me, personally that beard looks as if it belongs to a twenty year old” he pauses to make the point clear. “It's a very full beard, one that a fifteen or sixteen or seventeen year old could only dream of having” Scrounge taps his hand on the table. “Now fess up… how old are you exactly?”
Gary takes another sip of the water provided. His cup is almost empty, his beard becoming a little damp from the sweat.
“Does my age matter?” he says. Scrounge rolls his eyes as far as they can go back.
“It’s very suspicious that you are lying about your actual age!” he starts. “Why are you lying about something so simple?”
Gary shifts in his chair and for the first time looks away from the officer.
“They told me to”
“Who told you to?”

Grace came back from her walk, on her walk she found herself missing Wynnes little remarks, his little comments and even his singing, not the cocompare song though, she still hated that to no end. She approached the house and was shocked to see hoards of police vans and an ambulance. She rushed over and was stopped by two armed police officers..
“Get off of me” she said struggling. “I live here”.
“Where is Wynne?” she says as she notices a tattoo on their arms and she starts to calm down, the two officers looked at eachother, scared to say the next fatal blow.
“Is he your dad?” one officer asked.
“No, he’s my long distance boyfriend,” Grace said.
The officers look at eachother again and shrug.
“What is it? Is he okay?” Grace says starting to panic. The officers whack Grace in the head unconscious and carry her to the back of a van and drive off.

“Who told you not to say your age, Gary,” Scrounge asked again. He taps his fingers on the table anxiously. Gary fixated on scrounges fingers tapping and counted the taps to stay calm.
“If i tell you… you can’t say out” Gary said shaking, his body was vibrating, pure dread, little adrenaline. This was not fun nor thrilling for him.
Gary looks behind him and underneath the table, he glares out each corner of the room, then he lifts up his coat arm to reveal a tattoo.
“This tells me nothing, it's just a film reel?” Scrounge tuts. “Is it some sort of cult?” Gary looks down and he spits to the floor.
“Showing you this tattoo is giving you too much” he says as he rolls his sleeve back down. “Can i leave now”
“Sure...leave” Scrounge says looking at his notes not taking notice of Gary walking off.

Grace's vision is blurred as she is greeted to fluorescent lighting, with two people sitting beside her. She lifts up her head and bangs it immediately on the head rest as the van swerves left. The sensation of the Lights and movement trigger her gag reflexes, The two people beside her move quickly as they see her face make the sort of face someone would make when they are about to throw up. she vomits up. Over the seat to the left, Angela just made it out of her seat in time..
“Kin ell” she mutters under her breath..
“It kinda sucks to see her like this.” Anton replied. They leave Grace in the middle seat as they move to avoid another vomit session.
“Why are we doing this to her”. Anton questions.
“Its orders, enit”
“But she-” Angela cuts Anton off and covers his mouth. She looks him in the eye and gives him a stern stare, she slowly moves her hand from his mouth to hers and shushes him remaining the eye contact.
“But-”
“Shh”
Anton looks away from Angela's bright blue eyes to the small window used for ventilation, greeted by trees and fields of flowers in the dark, the bright colors of the flowers kind of lit up the field in an odd way, it was fascinating to look at. Hypnotic in a way. Anton smiles out of the window, he sees his own reflection and looks at himself smiling, then he looks past his reflection as the van stops at a billboard reading “speak up, or suffer and suffer”. The billboard was small compared to others, it was more of a leaflet that was blown up, but it's too big to be called a leaflet now. It was more of a large poster, it was the motto, it basically meant shut the fuck up and no one will do anything. He sighs and the van door opens.
“You two get out,” a masked person said in a monotone voice. “I’ll take care of Grace”.