Second practice from the Finding Your Voice class I bought from Holly Lisle. This is not an affiliate link, although if you decide you want to buy a class from her, you can contact me, and I’ll set on up so we both benefit. *smile*
There was a bloody knife in his hand, and he didn’t know how it had gotten there. A stranger lay dead on the floor, her wide eyes surprised.
He shivered and looked the knife over. No blood on it, or on him. Had he done it?
The woman, however, was a real mess, on leg nearly severed and blood decorating the floor and walls in festive sprays. Her chest was mangled, deep wounds nearly black, torn fabric clinging to blood already clotting.
He checked his own clothing again. Clean, all of it, and when he gingerly lifted one foot and checked his shoe, he revealed bare ground, untouched by the blood that surrounded him.
So had he done it? He blew out a breath and set the knife down on a nearby table. Tables everywhere. A restaurant? He looked around, at the well lit room, blood garish and bright, and the empty tables, stacked, chairs, darkened windows. Tablecloths, fabric not paper.
A nice restaurant then. He studied the woman before him. Beneath the blood, her clothing was nice, black pants, formerly white shirt. Hair braided neatly over the crown of her head. Sensible shoes.
A server? Did he know her?
Did it matter?
He glanced at the dark windows. Judged him self far too visible. How had no one noticed?
Gingerly, he stepped around the largest blood splatter, but when he paused and checked for footprints?
There was nothing there.