Monster (in progress)

Blood drips from the ceiling. The ceiling fan rages, splattering fragments left of the dead. There I was, stuck in the corner watching it all go down. The police arrive. “Oh my god!” exclaimed the first on site. His face turned pale as the night…never has he seen such a scene. “You! Put your hands up, you are under arrest!” He pulled his gun and aimed at my chest, as if there was any reason to think that would scare me after seeing what happened. His hands were shaking; I walked out of the corner, put my hands up to ease the man. He relaxed his weapon once he had me shackled. He escorted me out as more police arrived, and threw me in his patrol car. It felt like hours before I was taken to the station, the detectives arrived later than the ordinary police…they had no idea what to do until they arrived; it was hard not to laugh while locked in the car watching them run around like headless chickens. The detectives…were more interested in the scene, they gathered the evidence, looked at me in the car listening to the first on site. Maybe I wouldn’t have had to wait in the car so long if there were others alive. The first on site, I didn’t catch his name, got into the car, looked in the rear-view mirror and looked petrified as he stared at me. The drive was fast….he regained his composure as kept his eyes focused elsewhere. They took me straight into the interrogation room. I was covered in blood; the mirror wasn’t helping my case. My shirt was soaked with blood, chunks of I don’t know what were scattered in all the nooks you could think of. I asked if I could clean up, and without hesitance they let me. A change of clothes were provided and I was sat back in the interrogation room and was given a long wait alone. I suppose they are going over the scene still…no one here but me exactly knew what happened, and they were getting their cards together before trying to deal with the sole survivor. I suspect they think I did it, and I guess that’s fair to think.