Different Perspectives: The Murder Window

C

Cammeh

Guest
Original poster
This week's perspective will take a slightly different form. Instead of taking on the character of a certain person or object, you may write as yourself, but you will have one sense that is 'fixed': it will be dominated by one thing only. How you experience the scene must be influenced by this fixed sense.

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This week, your challenge is to write about a murder that occurs near a window. Your fixed sense is sight, and your field of vision is dominated by that window. All your other senses are free for you to use as you wish. You may be on either side of the window, and the murder may take place on either side. Things in the scene may come in and out of your field of vision, including the murderer and the victim. The window may be affected by the scene, it does not have to remain intact. The window may look however and be wherever you wish it to be.

THE ONLY THING YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO SEE IS THE ACT OF THE MURDER ITSELF.
 
The evening was late as I sat staring out the window, peering at the blank cross street. Through the iron bars of my window I could see the street lamp as it flickered on the corner, occasionally resting before it popped back on the illuminate the baron street. The buildings around mine looked cold and lifeless when the light went out. The crumbling brick apartments shot high into the sky weathered after years of snowy assaults. Occasionally a drunk passerby would stumble past catching my fleeting attention, before I would drift back to the urban jungle around me.

As I continued to absent-mindlessly watch a couple stumbled past my window. Their squabbling drew my attention but as I listened I could only pick a few colorful words. The man towered over his frail looking companion. His clothing suited his size, a pair of worn jeans and an equally worn t-shirt. A loose un-zipped sweat shirt hung from his towering shoulders. His voice was deep, and echoed in my ears as he boomed at her. As they trudged past my window I could here her speak. The woman's voice sounded cool and collected as she spoke, almost calculating. She dressed as if she belonged in an office some where. Her brown pencil skirt fit perfectly and her matching suit jacket stayed snug in place even as she walked. There was not a hair out of place, nor a scuff on her name brand pumps. The couple appeared out of place together; he appeared so worn down while as she was so perfect.

The unlikely pair walked past my window, and the street retreated back to it's lifeless state. Only a few moments went by before I heard the man's voice again. The booming, angered voice was now replaced by fear. My eyes danced around, but I was unable to find them in my view. I waited, listening to his terror growing close. He darted past my window, but stopped suddenly just in range of my view. I gawked at his trembling body, to curious to look away but to content to call for help. I assumed he was just another drunk traveler in search of home. That was until the woman casually strut into view. Her demeanor was unchanged, except for an unnatural smile on her painted lips.

"David, David, David." She spoke, with a superfluous amount of pronunciation on the D's. " You have been bad, David. Please don't hit me, David. I am so afraid, David!" Her eerily soothing voice made the hair on my neck stand. " Is that what you want to hear?" When she said this her voice bubbled with loathing. This seemed to frighten this David even more.

He suddenly took off, sprinting out of my view. The woman walked after, with an ominous cackle. As she walked I finally noticed her imperfection. Her eyes were dead, grey unemotional irises rested where lively eyes should be. Her eyes showed no lines, for they hardly moved, he expressions were subtle at most. As she walked past one last time I sunk away from the window. I kept watching through the safety of my barred portal, but keeping my distance. The night stood still, the flickering lamp light rested as I waited. The noise that happened next was so loud I jolted my whole body. The noise was followed by a high pitch shrill screaming in my ears. 'Was it a bomb? Gun shot? Car accident?' My mind raced with possibilities. My heart sank as I investigated through the glass. I have found David, one last time. His worn clothing re-painted with blood. His stained face frozen with un-earthly fear.

I looked for the woman but she had gone. I could still faintly hear her blood-curdling laugh. I stood for far to long paralyzed with fear as the ringing shrill in my ears and her infernal cackling faded away. I reached for my phone, fumbling clumsily as my eye stayed glued to the now lifeless street in front of me. 'What just happened' was the last thought the jostled my brain before I could rip my eyes away from the window.