Chapter 1
A Tragic Loss
“Bye dad! Bye Jen!”
“You’re not going anywhere mister!” The person yelling was Jennifer Watson, A very kind person. But unfortunately she was also more than a little vain. Jennifer’s idea of a good time was dependant on how many parties she could visit before being dragged back home. She also happens to be my sister. Well I say sister; she’s actually my adoptive sister. I was adopted when I was 5 years old after my parents died in a skiing accident. “If I have to clean this place up, then you are too!”
“But there’s not much left and you have everything just about wrapped up,” I objected noisily.
“That doesn’t matter; you are staying here until everything is done. You got that?”
“Yes ma’am” I said wearily. My name is Murdock Holmes. Not the most fitting name, but my dad lost a bet. After my parents died, everything they owned was taken away to cover some debts they owed; leaving me with nothing but the knowledge not to ever go skiing in the spring. That’s the only reason I kept my ill fitting name; it’s the only thing I have left to remember them by.
“Well?” she said, staring at me.
“Well what?” I responded with a similar stare.
Her eyebrow began to twitch; a sure sign that if I didn’t rephrase my answer in the next 3 seconds, she’ll be cleaning me off the floor when mom gets back. Unfortunately for me, I’m not the brightest bulb in the box.
One,
Two,
Three,
“GET OFF YOUR LAZY ASS AND HELP ME OR I SWEAR TO GOD, THEY WILL NOT FIND YOUR CORPSE!”
“Right on schedule.”
“What the hell are you blabbering about?” she said, obviously still a little steamed.
“Nothing at all,” I said, deciding not to push my luck any farther. Ten minutes later, the room was clean and I was once again on my way out when I was stopped.
“Hey, son!”
“What is it, dad?” Mark Watson is a former U.S navy seal and is currently unemployed. He is a major shopaholic, but due to him being a compulsive prankster; he is currently banned from most of the stores in a ten mile radius.
“Could you go to SuperSales and pick up one of those precooked chickens?” he asked.
I sighed. “Fine, I’ll go get one before I come home. Okay?”
“Speaking of which; where are you going anyway?” Asked Jennifer with raised eyebrows. “You said last night that you didn’t have anywhere to go all day and you were going to spend the day putting in applications.”
“I’m just going to be out for a few minutes,” I said, having completely forgotten about putting in applications. “And I’ll pick an application up from SuperSales while I’m gone okay.” I made a beeline for the door and was soon outside and heading left towards Main Street.
Jonathan Campbell, the current chief of the local law enforcements homicide division, was relaxing in his office when there was a knock on the door.
“Sir, are you busy?” The woman speaking was Campbell’s lieutenant, Marilyn White.
“What is it, White?”
“Well Sir. We received a call about twenty minutes ago from a local supermarket. They said that they had been robbed and that one of their employees was murdered trying to stop it.”
“You don’t sound very convinced,” Campbell responded without opening his eyes.
“There is no body. Sir.”
“So what makes them think that someone was murdered?”
“They say that they heard a gunshot and then they heard the employee in question; a Mr. Harold Morgan, scream,” She responded quickly.
Jonathan looked at his lieutenant; a woman whose judgment he trusts explicitly, with interest. “Did you send anyone to investigate?”
“No Sir. I thought I should inform you first.”
“So what do you think we should do?”
“Well Sir. Most of our officers are already working on the murder of that local dignitary; so I don’t think we should waste too much time on a murder that might not have happened.”
“True. But we do have to investigate.” Campbell said. He turned around and thought for a moment. “Aha! Didn’t we get a transfer a few weeks ago? You remember, the vice guy.”
Ms. White flashed a small grin. “Yes we did. Do you want me to send him?”
“Yes, also send around six officers to help out,” he replied.
It was around 2:30 when I stopped to take a break beside the large water fountain located at the center of town. SuperSales couldn’t really be called a store as it’s only open five hours a day. The store opened at three and closed at eight. So that means I had 30 minutes to kill before picking up dad’s chicken. I frowned and set off towards SuperSales; figuring that I would either find something to do on the way there, or I would just get there a few minutes early. As I approached the street that SuperSales was on, I heard a commotion from the store. Sure enough the moment I turned I found myself face to face with a wall of police tape. One of the cops turned around in time to see me duck underneath the tape.
Sean Nelson was busy taking notes of what he saw at the crime scene when he heard footsteps. Wondering what it was, he turned around just in time to see a very familiar face ducking underneath the tape.
“Murdock!”
The sneaky 15 year old froze and looked up with a grin. “Why hello there Mr. Nelson; it’s nice to see you. How are you,” Murdock said hastily.
“Well, I was fine until someone decided to break the rules and waltz straight into a crime scene,” Sean said.
“Wow. That guy must be a real idiot.”
“Yes, you are.”
“But I didn’t waltz in; I distinctly remember ducking.”
Sean sighed. “What are you doing here Murdock?” Murdock put on an indignant face. “For your information, I was here to buy a chicken for dinner tonight!”
Sean laughed. “So your dad’s still a shopaholic huh?”
Murdock couldn’t help but grin too. “Ya, he still does that.”
Sean’s mood lifted slightly. “Well I’m sorry, but you’ll have to go somewhere else and get it,” he said with an apologetic smile.
“What happened here?” Murdock asked.
“The employee’s claim that their coworker was murdered here,” he said with a disbelieving glance at the workers who were standing just inside the store.
Murdock eyebrows rose. “Claim? You don’t believe them?”
“Look at it this way; there is no body, no blood, no murder weapon, and no witnesses except the phantom gunshot that the workers heard and even then, there’s nothing on the cameras to show that anyone was hurt.”
“It does seem a little hard to believe,” Murdock admitted.
“It’s more than that, it’s impossible.” Sean said.
“Something still feels weird though, but I can’t place my finger on it.” Murdock muttered thoughtfully.
Sean chuckled. “Maybe you should go get that chicken and think it over during dinner?”
Murdock laughed. “Ya I think I will. See you later Mr. Nelson.”
“That’s Officer Nelson to you!” He shouted after Murdock.
5 minutes later, Murdock was back at the water fountain. He looked around at the various shops; trying to figure out which one to go to. Murdock sighed. “Well, it’ll have to be one that’s hiring or Jennifer will kick my ass,” he said, walking towards one of the shops with the help wanted sign posted. As he passed by the water fountain, Murdock failed to notice that someone was running towards him at full speed.
“Get out of the way!”
Murdock started to turn around when something slammed into him. Murdock was knocked backwards into the fountain, hitting his head on the figurehead on the way down. Murdock was dazed so he couldn’t get his head above water. ‘I swear to god; if I die by drowning in a water fountain, I will haunt whoever hit me!’ Murdock thought as his consciousness faded.
That's that. Any reviews are welcome...don't be too mean on the reviews tho....BTW what do you think of the name? Tenchu means Divine retribution in japanese.
A Tragic Loss
“Bye dad! Bye Jen!”
“You’re not going anywhere mister!” The person yelling was Jennifer Watson, A very kind person. But unfortunately she was also more than a little vain. Jennifer’s idea of a good time was dependant on how many parties she could visit before being dragged back home. She also happens to be my sister. Well I say sister; she’s actually my adoptive sister. I was adopted when I was 5 years old after my parents died in a skiing accident. “If I have to clean this place up, then you are too!”
“But there’s not much left and you have everything just about wrapped up,” I objected noisily.
“That doesn’t matter; you are staying here until everything is done. You got that?”
“Yes ma’am” I said wearily. My name is Murdock Holmes. Not the most fitting name, but my dad lost a bet. After my parents died, everything they owned was taken away to cover some debts they owed; leaving me with nothing but the knowledge not to ever go skiing in the spring. That’s the only reason I kept my ill fitting name; it’s the only thing I have left to remember them by.
“Well?” she said, staring at me.
“Well what?” I responded with a similar stare.
Her eyebrow began to twitch; a sure sign that if I didn’t rephrase my answer in the next 3 seconds, she’ll be cleaning me off the floor when mom gets back. Unfortunately for me, I’m not the brightest bulb in the box.
One,
Two,
Three,
“GET OFF YOUR LAZY ASS AND HELP ME OR I SWEAR TO GOD, THEY WILL NOT FIND YOUR CORPSE!”
“Right on schedule.”
“What the hell are you blabbering about?” she said, obviously still a little steamed.
“Nothing at all,” I said, deciding not to push my luck any farther. Ten minutes later, the room was clean and I was once again on my way out when I was stopped.
“Hey, son!”
“What is it, dad?” Mark Watson is a former U.S navy seal and is currently unemployed. He is a major shopaholic, but due to him being a compulsive prankster; he is currently banned from most of the stores in a ten mile radius.
“Could you go to SuperSales and pick up one of those precooked chickens?” he asked.
I sighed. “Fine, I’ll go get one before I come home. Okay?”
“Speaking of which; where are you going anyway?” Asked Jennifer with raised eyebrows. “You said last night that you didn’t have anywhere to go all day and you were going to spend the day putting in applications.”
“I’m just going to be out for a few minutes,” I said, having completely forgotten about putting in applications. “And I’ll pick an application up from SuperSales while I’m gone okay.” I made a beeline for the door and was soon outside and heading left towards Main Street.
Jonathan Campbell, the current chief of the local law enforcements homicide division, was relaxing in his office when there was a knock on the door.
“Sir, are you busy?” The woman speaking was Campbell’s lieutenant, Marilyn White.
“What is it, White?”
“Well Sir. We received a call about twenty minutes ago from a local supermarket. They said that they had been robbed and that one of their employees was murdered trying to stop it.”
“You don’t sound very convinced,” Campbell responded without opening his eyes.
“There is no body. Sir.”
“So what makes them think that someone was murdered?”
“They say that they heard a gunshot and then they heard the employee in question; a Mr. Harold Morgan, scream,” She responded quickly.
Jonathan looked at his lieutenant; a woman whose judgment he trusts explicitly, with interest. “Did you send anyone to investigate?”
“No Sir. I thought I should inform you first.”
“So what do you think we should do?”
“Well Sir. Most of our officers are already working on the murder of that local dignitary; so I don’t think we should waste too much time on a murder that might not have happened.”
“True. But we do have to investigate.” Campbell said. He turned around and thought for a moment. “Aha! Didn’t we get a transfer a few weeks ago? You remember, the vice guy.”
Ms. White flashed a small grin. “Yes we did. Do you want me to send him?”
“Yes, also send around six officers to help out,” he replied.
It was around 2:30 when I stopped to take a break beside the large water fountain located at the center of town. SuperSales couldn’t really be called a store as it’s only open five hours a day. The store opened at three and closed at eight. So that means I had 30 minutes to kill before picking up dad’s chicken. I frowned and set off towards SuperSales; figuring that I would either find something to do on the way there, or I would just get there a few minutes early. As I approached the street that SuperSales was on, I heard a commotion from the store. Sure enough the moment I turned I found myself face to face with a wall of police tape. One of the cops turned around in time to see me duck underneath the tape.
Sean Nelson was busy taking notes of what he saw at the crime scene when he heard footsteps. Wondering what it was, he turned around just in time to see a very familiar face ducking underneath the tape.
“Murdock!”
The sneaky 15 year old froze and looked up with a grin. “Why hello there Mr. Nelson; it’s nice to see you. How are you,” Murdock said hastily.
“Well, I was fine until someone decided to break the rules and waltz straight into a crime scene,” Sean said.
“Wow. That guy must be a real idiot.”
“Yes, you are.”
“But I didn’t waltz in; I distinctly remember ducking.”
Sean sighed. “What are you doing here Murdock?” Murdock put on an indignant face. “For your information, I was here to buy a chicken for dinner tonight!”
Sean laughed. “So your dad’s still a shopaholic huh?”
Murdock couldn’t help but grin too. “Ya, he still does that.”
Sean’s mood lifted slightly. “Well I’m sorry, but you’ll have to go somewhere else and get it,” he said with an apologetic smile.
“What happened here?” Murdock asked.
“The employee’s claim that their coworker was murdered here,” he said with a disbelieving glance at the workers who were standing just inside the store.
Murdock eyebrows rose. “Claim? You don’t believe them?”
“Look at it this way; there is no body, no blood, no murder weapon, and no witnesses except the phantom gunshot that the workers heard and even then, there’s nothing on the cameras to show that anyone was hurt.”
“It does seem a little hard to believe,” Murdock admitted.
“It’s more than that, it’s impossible.” Sean said.
“Something still feels weird though, but I can’t place my finger on it.” Murdock muttered thoughtfully.
Sean chuckled. “Maybe you should go get that chicken and think it over during dinner?”
Murdock laughed. “Ya I think I will. See you later Mr. Nelson.”
“That’s Officer Nelson to you!” He shouted after Murdock.
5 minutes later, Murdock was back at the water fountain. He looked around at the various shops; trying to figure out which one to go to. Murdock sighed. “Well, it’ll have to be one that’s hiring or Jennifer will kick my ass,” he said, walking towards one of the shops with the help wanted sign posted. As he passed by the water fountain, Murdock failed to notice that someone was running towards him at full speed.
“Get out of the way!”
Murdock started to turn around when something slammed into him. Murdock was knocked backwards into the fountain, hitting his head on the figurehead on the way down. Murdock was dazed so he couldn’t get his head above water. ‘I swear to god; if I die by drowning in a water fountain, I will haunt whoever hit me!’ Murdock thought as his consciousness faded.
That's that. Any reviews are welcome...don't be too mean on the reviews tho....BTW what do you think of the name? Tenchu means Divine retribution in japanese.
Remembering is just an invention of the mind,
So you need not try to remember something,
You remember it automatically.
Which is the best thing that you could have.
The good times that we had...
It is placed in a portion of your mind.
The bad times that we had...
It is placed in the other part of your mind.
You try to forget all of the bad things that happened,
But it is not possible.
It is stuck in you.
The bad things are painted in ink on your heart.
The good things, you try to remember.
And they stay.
They never go.
Never leave you.
Remembering is just an invention of the mind.
And, well...I guess I'm happy for that.
So I can remember every friend I've had,
Every boyfriend,
And all the good times.
Every memory will never leave my heart.
They will never be forsaken.
Never.
So you need not try to remember something,
You remember it automatically.
Which is the best thing that you could have.
The good times that we had...
It is placed in a portion of your mind.
The bad times that we had...
It is placed in the other part of your mind.
You try to forget all of the bad things that happened,
But it is not possible.
It is stuck in you.
The bad things are painted in ink on your heart.
The good things, you try to remember.
And they stay.
They never go.
Never leave you.
Remembering is just an invention of the mind.
And, well...I guess I'm happy for that.
So I can remember every friend I've had,
Every boyfriend,
And all the good times.
Every memory will never leave my heart.
They will never be forsaken.
Never.
*Poem I wrote for a class project on the holocaust.
DON'T COPY*
Different in ways they couldn't control
Killed for reasons we do not know
Ranging from ages young to old
The innocent people were taken from homes
Soulless people did not care
That the Jewish were in despair
Concentration camps ending their screams
Breaking apart their families
Not once did they do anything wrong
They opened their mouths and sang a sad song
Years went by and more pain came
Until on one very special day
As one we all saved
The survivors of the Holocaust
DON'T COPY*
Different in ways they couldn't control
Killed for reasons we do not know
Ranging from ages young to old
The innocent people were taken from homes
Soulless people did not care
That the Jewish were in despair
Concentration camps ending their screams
Breaking apart their families
Not once did they do anything wrong
They opened their mouths and sang a sad song
Years went by and more pain came
Until on one very special day
As one we all saved
The survivors of the Holocaust
Me and Those
Ever noticed that in this life
Everyone wants you to do something,
Or be something
That sometimes you don’t want to be?
They are those!
You know them!
You probably have those in your house.
They are those who expect you to take a path,
Even though,
Sometimes,
You don’t want to take.
They are those who expect you to be great,
Even though,
Sometimes,
You prefer to be small and humble.
But do you think,
For the slightest second,
That they care about that?
They don’t!
They are your parents,
Your grandparents,
Your Uncles and aunts,
That since you were born,
Came up with a path for you in life.
But know this,
And say it to yourself:
They are those, they matter,
But me is I,
And I’m the main character.
Sitting right where you are
You have no claim on me
I know my own path
I am my own guide
You are nothing to me
No matter how you try
What do you care?
If I'm not doing it right
I'm not following you
I know my own path
I am my own guide
You don't know me
No matter how you try
Why are you here?
You know I don't want you
I told you to leave me
I am my own path
I know my own guide
You can't mold me
No matter how you try
Why do I feel compelled to write angsty poetry? I swear I'm not even that angsty. lol Oh well, I hope someone out there enjoys it.
A whisper in the cavern that goes unheard,
and a glimmer in the sky that stays unnoticed,
like the start of a brand new life, at the peak
of a mountain never scaled, lies in wait.
It can't be moved by any cosmic mover,
so no passing wind or fog will douse it.
Only your eyes can scratch out the image
or accept it, the light at the edge of your eyes.
Will you take hold of the key you're offered?
Stop singing of freedom; seek it instead?
To become a companion of the new
takes an ever expanding, soaring gaze.
But even by taking one step forward,
by placing one hand onto the mountain,
as the wind tugs gently at your back,
you will realize the cage has already been broken.
and a glimmer in the sky that stays unnoticed,
like the start of a brand new life, at the peak
of a mountain never scaled, lies in wait.
It can't be moved by any cosmic mover,
so no passing wind or fog will douse it.
Only your eyes can scratch out the image
or accept it, the light at the edge of your eyes.
Will you take hold of the key you're offered?
Stop singing of freedom; seek it instead?
To become a companion of the new
takes an ever expanding, soaring gaze.
But even by taking one step forward,
by placing one hand onto the mountain,
as the wind tugs gently at your back,
you will realize the cage has already been broken.