I didn't like how I did the first one so I reimagined it and this is what I came up with.
Writing Prompts:
1. It was a murder but not a crime.
2. The night was split by jagged lightning that...
The night was split by jagged lightning that set many patients' teeth on edge. As if they weren't tortured enough by their own demons, Mother Nature had to be a bitch that night. Magdalena St. Pierre was already awake. She stared up at the ceiling of her little cream white room counting the same tiles for the hundredth time. She listened to the rain pound against the window. It was static to her compared to the chaos of thoughts and memories swarming in her mind like angry hornets. She closed her eyes and began counting to a million hoping the boring task would help her fall asleep on this restless night. Yet as she counted, a shadow of flame with malevolent eyes appeared behind her lids. It echoed in a deep unnatural voice ancient words that Magdalena understood. She tried to open her eyes but couldn't.
Then she was transported to an empty alley way. She did not feel the rain or the cold. Her spirit had transported her somewhere in the city. Magdalena suddenly heard a familiar voice.
"I'll ask one last time," the voice was as cold as ice. "You were the white witch that cloaked her. I need you to uncloak her."
Magdalena walked towards the scene and saw her friend, Mannix on the ground bleeding from fresh deep cuts. When Mannix refused to answer, his face a picture of defiance, his attacker waved his hand and new cut appeared along Mannix's gut. Blood poured from the wound mixing with the water. Mannix garbled something incoherently.
"I'm sorry what was that?" his mysterious assailant tilted his head straining to hear. Mannix struggled to lift himself up. He pulled out a knife then cried out, "Burn in hell." Then with one swift strike sliced his own jugular. His attacker cursed out loud then froze. He seemed to be staring right at Magdalena. Her breath caught as the shadowy figure came closer. In a chilling voice he said, "Maggs? Is that you?"
Magdalena shot up in her bed as lightning cracked then gave way to rolling thunder. They were coming for her again...
* * * *
Detective Dominic Marshall drank his black coffee and hugged his cheap navy blue wind breaker closer to his body. Though it was early fall winter seemed just around the corner.
"You look like shit, Marshall," chimed Becky, his partner.
"You always have a way with words," Marshall sardonically replied. Becky shrugged her shoulders. She was tall with a statuesque body and long wheat colored hair that she always kept in a pony tail. She should have been a model but for some odd reason decided to become a detective.
"I was worried about you last night...," Becky said quietly. Marshall shrugged, "Just wasn't in the mood for conversation. Besides I think we said all that needed to be said." Becky stared at Marshall her blue eyes wounded.
"What do we got, Becky," Marshall shook off his negative feelings.
"Victim is male, late 30s, African American, looks like he was cut up pretty bad," Becky explained clinicly.
They ducked underneath the yellow tape. The rain had washed away the blood leaving a sliced up husk. Marshall pointed to the gaping cut on the victim's throat, "Killer do that?"
"Nope," Becky said. "The victim cut his own throat."
"No money missing?" asked Marshall, his deductive gears turning.
"Wallet is full of cash and credit cards," Becky gave Marshall the wallet that was sealed in an evidence bag. "I.D. says Rafe Mannix."
"I recognize this guy," Marshall realized. "An old case from 2 years ago."
"The case with all the Satanic Voodoo shit? 7 people died didn't they?"
"Some of them just like this," Marshall recalled. A girl was involved. They caught her though her lawyer pleaded insanity and now Magdalena St. Pierre was rotting in a psychiatric facility in Queens.
"Oh yeah it pissed me off when they gave her the insanity plea," Becky glowered at the memory. "Anyone can plead 'insanity' now a days." Marshall smiled.
"Let's go talk to Crazy Pants," Marshall grimaced.
* * * *
It was a murder but not a crime. Not a day went by when Magdalena didn't think about that day when everything went to hell. She sat outside smoking her cigarette. Patients weren't allowed to have cigarettes but when you're a witch with magical tattoos you can get yourself just about anything. They were coming for her again. She knew it was only a matter of time.
As Magdalena took a deep drag of her cigarette, a nurse with two large orderlies came up behind her.
"Anything I can do for you, Nurse Braun?" Magdalena called without even turning around. She called her that because this particular nurse was a terror to the patients. Plus her first name happened to be Ava. She was very strict often taking more uncivil actions towards patients who misbehaved. Think Nazi with medeival toys. Not that the state bothered to check on this particular facility to care what happened behind those cream white plaster walls.
"It's Nurse Philips," she growled. Nurse Philips was portly with a giant mole on her upper lip that she waxed once a week. The two large orderlies stood on either side of Magdalena who sat quietly on the bench.
"Where did you get this cigarette?" she demanded, snatching it away. Magdalena stared Nurse Philips in her beady eyes that seemed to shrink when ever her face scrunched up in anger.
"You know, Ava, I've been trying really hard to tolerate you these past few years," Magdalena placed her hands in her lap folding them into different patterns as if to appear figedty. "And it helps to smoke at least once a week to take the edge off since there's no booze and the happy pills only help so much to drown you out. So if you don't give me that cigarette I'm going to have to cut off one of your stubby fingers then smoke that instead." Magdalena's indigo eyes were like an inferno as they bore into Nurse Philips's beady eyes. Nurse Philips was a bit taken aback. She held out the cigarette to Magdalena but when she went to take it back, Nurse Philips dropped it then ground the burning cigarette into the cement.
"I make the rules here. Perhaps you need a day or two in the quiet room to remind you who is king of this place," Nurse Philips growled getting in Magdalena's face. In one swift strike Magdalena grabbed Philips's chunky wrist. Just when Magdalena was about to unleash her wrath as she promised another much younger nurse called, "St. Pierre? Some detectives are here to see you!"
Magdalena released Nurse Philips who glared back at her.
"I'll see you're put in the quiet room," promised Nurse Philips. Magdalena walked off silently following the young nurse.
* * * *
If you would like to know what happens next just comment below.
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