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26
Weeks passed in a blur. There was a flurry of investigations and Janice found herself questioned not once but thrice by official-looking people in suits with flashy badges, representing bureaus and branches Janice didn't even have names for. It was well known she recently had a dispute with “the deceased'' (which is all these official people ever called Rodriguez). She convinced them all in turn that she hardly knew the girl and wasn't anywhere near when she took her own life in the showers. She insisted again and again until they at least seemed to believe she had no idea where the girl got the razorblade she used for the deed.
Janice made herself convincing as possible, playing the tough inmate and scared little girl in equal measures as the situation dictated. Finally, after all the investigations came to nothing, things went back to normal.
The other two women who harassed Janice on that day never spoke to her again, but she saw them sometimes wat
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“You know the rest.” At this point, Janice was crying but not weeping or gasping for air. Byron was once again impressed by her. “I found her in the bathroom, bleeding on the tile. She died in my arms. All the bouncer saw was the crazy girl screaming at thin air moments before now holding a stabbed corpse. It was pretty clear to him what happened, and from there, it was pretty clear to everyone what happened to all my friends. Even though they couldn't find the knife that Kelly was stabbed with, everything else lined up all too well.”“I was the only constant.”Byron nodded speechlessly. In the corner, Betsy wiped her tears.“The worst part is I keep thinking about what she must have seen, right before...you know? Did she think that I... that I hurt her? Or did it become something else in the final moment? She had a boogeyman as a kid; a tall, faceless woman with long claws that lived in her closet. So maybe
Broken Night Part II - 1
Weeks passed. Having all the details he required for his book, Byron could not find a reason to continue his interviews with Janice. Though they continued to correspond with letters, full of pleasantries and idle talk, it just wasn't the same as face-to-face meetings. Both of them felt the loss of something acute, though Janice couldn’t articulate what it was if asked.Byron never received a vision of Kelly Patrick's death, and after a while he stopped waiting for one. It was one secret, he guessed, would not be revealed. Thankfully, he was also not visited by any petite brunettes with creepy masks, even though he watched the entire run of Cain's Crossing, which he found engrossing in its weirdness.Byron continued to pound away at the book. His agent, a small, fussy woman in her forties with a pixie cut, loved what he had already submitted, and assured him it was going to be a sure hit, “maybe even a New York Times lister.”
Broken Night 2
Norma walked through the small library. Now and then, she'd drop a small stack of outdated magazines or a day-old newspaper on one of the round tables, which were strewn haphazardly around the room. It wasn't much of a job, but it gave her something to do, and with a mind like hers that was prone to wandering, something to do was precious.She had taken the job more out of desperation than any burning urge to help in the reformation of criminals, figuring there would be fewer people vying for the position than that of a more traditional library. She had been correct in this. After fingerprinting and a full background check (which came back squeaky clean) they had hired her.Her first few nights had been a paranoid nightmare filled with every cinema image of leering, snarling prisoners, depraved murderers, sadists, and all-around bad people. She had jumped every time upon hearing an unfamiliar noise. However, she quickly adapted and found most of the girls h
Broken Night 3
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Byron's phone rang when he had been dozing at his desk. The sudden intruding noise startled him, almost tipping the half full coffee cup onto his expensive keyboard.“Don't you freaking dare,” he tried to hold the cup which quivered, unspilled on the desk.Staggered by the renegade coffee, Byron stumbled across the room to the still ringing phone. He was an old-fashioned guy who had a phone that hung on the wall with an earpiece and mouthpiece, even though he bowed to peer pressure a few years back and got a cell phone.“Hello,” he huffed, proud of himself for not putting the receiver against his ear upside down.A recording informed him an inmate was attempting to call him, following a less robotic voice giving him a name.Janice Rosse.The original robot voice returned and asked if he would accept the call, to which he replied in a positive tone. In a few seconds, Janice's voice fill
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Broken Night 6
“Fuck,” Janice groaned, coming out of her trance. She wasn't supposed to be detected. Now the evil bitch knew she could travel along the thread where her enemy lived. The element of surprise was shot.She took a deep breath. “This changes nothing. Just stick to the plan, girlie.”“You talking to yourself in there, Rosse?” A voice called from outside her cell. It was one of the male guards, a tall, weaselly man who was barely old enough to shave. Janice had never quite gotten his name, but he seemed fairly harmless.“Sorry sir, but how else could I get some intelligent conversation in this place?”The guard laughed, “Just keep it down in there, 'fore I get in trouble for letting you bother the other inmates.”“Yeah, we wouldn't want that,” Janice sneered, and the guard laughed again.This changes nothing, Janice repeated, quietly in her head thi
Broken Night 7
Well, that was weird. Byron came to consciousness at his desk, which was in and of itself not an unusual occurrence, but it wasn't usually preceded by a spiritual visitation from a convicted killer.Did any of that actually happen? He wondered to himself. He might have drifted off long before he thought, and since Janice was on his mind since the phone call, it’s quite possible he dreamt the whole thing.He touched the side of his coffee cup, finding it cold. He remembered getting a fresh cup right before the (visitation?) dream started, so he knew he had been out for quite a while. He was about to get up to refresh it when his computer screen caught his attention.***Hey bYron. Sorry I suck at typing. No tipe to fix mistakes. I suck at speklling too, even though I read a lot. Ha ha. You probably think you just had a weird dream about me or maybe you're going crazy
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