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pwny_of_doom
⊙ω⊙
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10-09-2007, 07:03 AM
This is a story I began writing long ago.. maybe if I ever finish it, I'll post the rest. I know how I want it to go, I just haven't written it all down yet.
Anywho, it goes a little something like this.
Officer trainee Elliot Brooke strolled into the station early one Saturday morning. He entered through the front door of the station and was greeted by an elderly security officer seated at a high platform. Brooke flashed his ID and the security guard smiled his friendliest smile. He was glad to see the trainee sticker laminated on Brooke’s ID; it reminded him of his early days as an officer on the Edgewood Campus Police Force. Moments later a metal barred door, situated to the security guard’s left, clanked unlocked and Elliot turned the handle, entering the den of the Campus Force.
Two officers and a police chief with a gaudy badge and a slick, glistening haircut were seated at various desks placed haphazardously around the office. They all appeared to be doing paperwork, but they all looked up when Elliot appeared. After Elliot shut the door, everyone looked back down at their papers except the chief who cracked a goofy grin, reclined in his leather office chair a bit, and said in a gruff voice, “Elliot! Good to see you, boy.” Elliot nodded at the chief, who leaned forward in his chair again. “So you’ll be going with one of these to kuckleheads,” he gestured at the other two officers who looked up, “out on some calls today?”
It was rather a statement than a question, so Elliot nodded, “Yessir.”
The two officers were still looking up, glaring, yet grinning at the police chief. Elliot recognized one of these officers as Randy Crow, a man in his thirties who had helped learn the ropes of the Force on a previous day. Officer Crow had a lot of patience and was gifted at explaining things in simple terms. He waved a quick wave at Elliot. The other officer was younger and unfamiliar to Elliot. He acknowledged Elliot’s presence with a nod and looked back down at his work.
“Who would you rather be paired up with today? Officer Crow, or Officer Patterson? It doesn’t matter either way, really, but eh… who have you worked with before?” The chief mumbled at Elliot as he opened a file cabinet.
Elliot replied, “Officer Crow showed me around some the other day.”
“Fine,” said the chief, who tabbed through some folders in the cabinet, finally producing a sheet of paper, “If there’s a call, Randy, you bring Officer Trainee Brooke here with you.”
“Sounds fine to me,” said Officer Crow to Elliot, “How about you?”
“Sounds great,” replied Elliot.
The chief slapped the sheet of paper from the cabinet down upon his desk, facing Elliot. He mumbled gruffly, “I just need you to sign this release. Basically says if there’s an accident in the car or whatever the Department takes care of things rather than Officer Crow personally.”
“That’s fine,” piped Elliot, glancing over the document. “Mind if I borrow a pen?” He asked, gesturing at a coffee mug full of pens nestled amongst stacks of paper and pictureframes. The chief shook his head and Elliot grabbed a black pen, signed his name across the bottom of the document, and dated it April 4, 1997.
A dispatch officer buzzed a message on Officer Crow’s radio at his hip. He removed the radio and said a few words into the device and a moment later he and Elliot Brooke were riding through campus in Crow’s Crown Victoria cruiser.
“Basically, what we’re about to do, Elliot, is just go look over the scene,” said Crow, “We’re going to see if there’s anything suspicious looking. Anything that looks like arson, for example. Normally, when there’s a fire call, it’s accidental. In this case the fire started in an abandoned building on campus. It used to be used for storage, now… nothing.”
“Abandoned building?” muttered Elliot, only half questioningly, “I guess it has to be electrical fire or arson.”
Crow nodded and pulled the cruiser over in the parking lot of the T. Lott Nursing Hall. “You may be right. Like I said, though, observe, oh… and, do you have a pen and a notepad?”
“No sir.”
“I have a whole box of notepads in the backseat. Grab yourself one and,” he paused, put the car in park, and swiftly revealed a pen from the center console, “write everything down. Anything important you might need to remember later.” There was a no-nonsense attitude in his voice. Elliot nodded and collected the pen and pad. Both Elliot and Crow got out of the vehicle.
T. Lott Nursing Hall was a long brick building, running longitudinally with long tinted glass windows. Robust foliage dotted the front of the building, and a small bird bath stood in the center of a walkway that split into a circle around the birdbath and then converged again to meet the building’s double doors. The gestalt of the hall was very neat. Bustle surrounded the place located in a busy area of Edgewood University’s campus. To the building’s south and east sides were Dudley Street and Harvest Avenue. Along the sidewalks accompanying these roads were mostly students, busily walking to class, along with an assortment of adults, probably of whom were faculty, workers, and visitors. If you looked out of the windows on the short west side of the hall, you would see a thatch of trees and the east face of York Hall.
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zumbie
(っ◕‿◕)&...
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10-09-2007, 07:04 AM
I LOVE it!!
Its so creepy and weird.
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pwny_of_doom
⊙ω⊙
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10-09-2007, 07:06 AM
You know how it's going to end.. but it's a secret!
By the way, everyone else, this story all came from a dream I had over at zumbie's house one night.
It's a horror story, and maybe if I finish it, you will all see why.
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zumbie
(っ◕‿◕)&...
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10-09-2007, 07:07 AM
DX I wish you were here right now!
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BubbleTea
Banned
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10-13-2007, 05:09 PM
Quote:
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Originally Posted by pwny_of_doom
This is a story I began writing long ago.. maybe if I ever finish it, I'll post the rest. I know how I want it to go, I just haven't written it all down yet.
Anywho, it goes a little something like this.
Officer trainee Elliot Brooke strolled into the station early one Saturday morning. He entered through the front door of the station and was greeted by an elderly security officer seated at a high platform. Brooke flashed his ID and the security guard smiled his friendliest smile. He was glad to see the trainee sticker laminated on Brooke’s ID; it reminded him of his early days as an officer on the Edgewood Campus Police Force. Moments later a metal barred door, situated to the security guard’s left, clanked unlocked and Elliot turned the handle, entering the den of the Campus Force.
Two officers and a police chief with a gaudy badge and a slick, glistening haircut were seated at various desks placed haphazardously around the office. They all appeared to be doing paperwork, but they all looked up when Elliot appeared. After Elliot shut the door, everyone looked back down at their papers except the chief who cracked a goofy grin, reclined in his leather office chair a bit, and said in a gruff voice, “Elliot! Good to see you, boy.” Elliot nodded at the chief, who leaned forward in his chair again. “So you’ll be going with one of these to kuckleheads,” he gestured at the other two officers who looked up, “out on some calls today?”
It was rather a statement than a question, so Elliot nodded, “Yessir.”
The two officers were still looking up, glaring, yet grinning at the police chief. Elliot recognized one of these officers as Randy Crow, a man in his thirties who had helped learn the ropes of the Force on a previous day. Officer Crow had a lot of patience and was gifted at explaining things in simple terms. He waved a quick wave at Elliot. The other officer was younger and unfamiliar to Elliot. He acknowledged Elliot’s presence with a nod and looked back down at his work.
“Who would you rather be paired up with today? Officer Crow, or Officer Patterson? It doesn’t matter either way, really, but eh… who have you worked with before?” The chief mumbled at Elliot as he opened a file cabinet.
Elliot replied, “Officer Crow showed me around some the other day.”
“Fine,” said the chief, who tabbed through some folders in the cabinet, finally producing a sheet of paper, “If there’s a call, Randy, you bring Officer Trainee Brooke here with you.”
“Sounds fine to me,” said Officer Crow to Elliot, “How about you?”
“Sounds great,” replied Elliot.
The chief slapped the sheet of paper from the cabinet down upon his desk, facing Elliot. He mumbled gruffly, “I just need you to sign this release. Basically says if there’s an accident in the car or whatever the Department takes care of things rather than Officer Crow personally.”
“That’s fine,” piped Elliot, glancing over the document. “Mind if I borrow a pen?” He asked, gesturing at a coffee mug full of pens nestled amongst stacks of paper and pictureframes. The chief shook his head and Elliot grabbed a black pen, signed his name across the bottom of the document, and dated it April 4, 1997.
A dispatch officer buzzed a message on Officer Crow’s radio at his hip. He removed the radio and said a few words into the device and a moment later he and Elliot Brooke were riding through campus in Crow’s Crown Victoria cruiser.
“Basically, what we’re about to do, Elliot, is just go look over the scene,” said Crow, “We’re going to see if there’s anything suspicious looking. Anything that looks like arson, for example. Normally, when there’s a fire call, it’s accidental. In this case the fire started in an abandoned building on campus. It used to be used for storage, now… nothing.”
“Abandoned building?” muttered Elliot, only half questioningly, “I guess it has to be electrical fire or arson.”
Crow nodded and pulled the cruiser over in the parking lot of the T. Lott Nursing Hall. “You may be right. Like I said, though, observe, oh… and, do you have a pen and a notepad?”
“No sir.”
“I have a whole box of notepads in the backseat. Grab yourself one and,” he paused, put the car in park, and swiftly revealed a pen from the center console, “write everything down. Anything important you might need to remember later.” There was a no-nonsense attitude in his voice. Elliot nodded and collected the pen and pad. Both Elliot and Crow got out of the vehicle.
T. Lott Nursing Hall was a long brick building, running longitudinally with long tinted glass windows. Robust foliage dotted the front of the building, and a small bird bath stood in the center of a walkway that split into a circle around the birdbath and then converged again to meet the building’s double doors. The gestalt of the hall was very neat. Bustle surrounded the place located in a busy area of Edgewood University’s campus. To the building’s south and east sides were Dudley Street and Harvest Avenue. Along the sidewalks accompanying these roads were mostly students, busily walking to class, along with an assortment of adults, probably of whom were faculty, workers, and visitors. If you looked out of the windows on the short west side of the hall, you would see a thatch of trees and the east face of York Hall.
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Nice story
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