The idea for this story came to me after watching Bones and Castle...

The day was young. The skies were filled with the pale pinks and yellows of the early morn. Ravens flocked and flew to the east, hiding the magnificent orange sun with their black blanket of flesh and feathers. Dark clouds gathered ominously in the west, promising a great tempest. The cleaning lady frowned when she saw them. It was far too late in the year for a storm. She shook her head sadly. The weather had been changing recently. Rolling her sleeves up, she shook her head and muttered under her breath. The world was ending. It had to be. She walked on, saying barely audible things as she went.

The building was impressive. Its walls were made of some kind of dark, warm stone. Finely carved stone arches supported the roof. Stone dragons defended the doors and windows from unwanted visitors, their vicious teeth protruding from grey gums. The tables and chairs were made of mahogany; their warm colours giving the mansion a less cold feel. The lady stopped a while to admire the view. The rolling ocean seemed almost alive. She smiled sadly. The young master never had enough time to just stop and enjoy the simpler things in life, did he? She walked onward. One day, she promised herself. One day, she would make the young master slow down and relax for a little while. Even if she lost her job because of it.

She walked into a dimly lit corridor. The master had always despised this passage for some reason. Perhaps he didn't like the faint reminders of his past. She strode past the portraits of the past masters of the building. Their last names were all the same – Strife. As she walked toward the end of the hall, more light spilled into the wide space. Finally, she passed the portrait of the current owner, Cloud Strife, before entering the grand hall. It was grand sort of place, with mosaic patterns on the roof and a Renaissance-style fresco on the walls. A long mahogany table sat in the centre of the wide hall. Despite the table's length, there were only two chairs, one on either side. The cleaner pondered briefly. If the young master rarely had any guests, then why were there always two seats at the table? Faintly in her mind, she already knew the answer. She just didn't want to admit it.

She wandered for a while longer; drinking in the finery the young master always had, but took for granted, before finally striding to the master's room. She gasped as she entered the room. It was not because of the simple magnificence of the room. It was not because of the style and modernity of the furniture. It was, instead, because of the unmoving body on the centre of the bed. The master's golden hair was tussled, but was still capable of retaining its impossible spikes. It was not everyday the master had the time to sleep in. Smiling gently, the maid pulled the sheets over the slumbering figure. It was then when she noticed the strange circular mark on the young man's neck. Leaning closer, she gingerly touched the livid discolouring, before drawing back quickly, as if she had been burnt. She glanced fearfully at the sleeping man, finally noting his skin's unnatural paleness. She screamed. One of the guards came running to the young master's room and affirmed her fears. The young man had died. The police were contacted, and thus began what was named the 'Strife Murder Case'.

The Strife Murder Case: Prologue


Please review and tell me what you think of it so far! Criticism is welcome too. I want to learn to become a better writer! I'm so sorry that this chapter's so short. The next one will be longer! I promise!