Story Toxic Red | Prologue

[GammyWamzee]

Hello hello! I am just gonna write my silly little story here!

I would like to place a warning straight away that this material would be considered R, for mature individuals (for reasons relating to minor gore, mentions of sexual-activity, drugs, and crime)

Before reading, I would like to place some Trigger Warnings here before I begin! This list may be updated as time goes on!
TW: Drugs/alcohol, gore, mental illness, fictional criminal activity, mentions of self-harm, mentions of sexual activity/professions, death, suicide

Going through the warnings, I would like to say now that LGTBQ+ character's will be introduced, if this is something that doesn't interest you then please do not read this. I will not put up with any form of bigotry.

Please do not post on this thread! If you have any questions, suggestions, or comments please PM them to me! :>
>Maybe one day I'll make a FAQ thread

Meet the Cast (to be updated)

Spoiler: Allen Jacobs

he/him/they
A talented detective with the uncanny ability to sense when people are lying. Elective mute.

Spoiler: Leon Castillo

he/him
A police officer, who seems to have a tendency to predict certain events.

 

[GammyWamzee]

POV: 3rd Person All | WC: 754 | TW: mention of drugs, blood, suicide, mention of sexual profession

There was a hum of the air conditioner as three figures sat in a nice looking office. The desk between two partners in crime, and a sharply-dressed businessman. The room was eerily quiet other than the aforementioned air-conditioner. A man, taller with sharp features and warm brown skin, sat with his arms crossed across his chest, glanced towards his partner. Shorter, by a longshot, who’s eyes were blocked out by a rounded pair of glasses, stared ahead at the businessman. Who was as cool as a cucumber, mentally, and physically. The shorter of the duo looked towards the taller, and nodded.

The taller of the duo spoke immediately, casually, as he rested his head on the back of his hand, his elbow propped up on the wooden arm of the chair. “Mr. Callahan, as you may have figured out, my partner and I have a few questions for you, any answers can and will be used against you in the court of the law. .” His voice was deep, with a bit of a latin quip to it, looking up from a piece of paper he hand plucked up from the manilla folder sitting on the desk.

“I understand, please continue, gentlemen. I have a meeting to attend to within 30 minutes,” Callahan spoke, casually and confidently. The shorter of the duo tapped against the wooden frame of the chair he sat in.

The taller cleared his throat, “of course, let’s get straight to the point then. Were you, or were you not visiting the High Street 7/11, at approximately 11 PM, Saturday, last month?”

Callahan, frankly, seemed irked by this question, “really, this isn’t something you expect someone to remember?”

“I would certainly remember going to 7/11 in the middle of the night, unless I was perhaps intoxicated, I just need your alibi, Mr. Callahan,” he asked, cocking his head to the side. Brown eyes stared down at the blurry picture of Mr. Callahan, captured from the gas-station’s security camera.

“I was at the 7/11 then, but I don’t remember what I was getting, I already know that’s your next question,” Callahan stated, defensively. The taller one looked towards his partner, who remained silent. The questioning continued.

“Well, I can accept that you wouldn’t remember what you had gotten, but I would like to know what it is you passed to the worker there? A duffle bag of some sort?” The taller one pulled a picture from the manilla folder. Flicking it around to show to Mr. Callahan, who seemed rather nervous.

“He is my nephew, he had stayed over at my home and I was dropping off some things that he had forgotten,” Callahan explained. The shorter one tapped on his chair, the taller one nodded.

The taller had marked something down with a pen, “I understand. Were you aware that your nephew frequented strip clubs, brothels, and bars, and is currently under arrest for drug distribution?” He sighed out.

“Is that what this is all about? He is a grown man, I don’t know what he does in his free time!” Callahan stated with irritation. “Mr. Castillo, if this is what this interrogation is for, then frankly, I believe that this is a waste of my time!” Placing his hands on the desk, and pushing himself up to get up, Castillo clicked his tongue.

“I’m not done,” shuffling through his pocket, he pulled a small baggie out, filled with some kind of plant with bright red strands that danced through the dried leaves. Holding it up between two fingers. “This was found on your nephew’s person. He named you as the provider.”

Callahan sat back down. “How much will it cost to keep this under wraps, gentlemen?” Castillo glanced towards his partner.

“Is that enough, Allen?” Castillo inquired. Allen, remaining silent, nods. Removing a black box from his coat pocket, clicking a button to end the recording. Blue eyes peered out from under his glasses.

Castillo smirked a bit, “I believe we’re done here t-” The smirk on his face had quickly dropped as Mr. Callahna had a sudden change of demeanor, Castillo, attempting to jump across the desk to keep the drawer closed before Callahan could open it, but it appeared he was too late, as a gunshot rang throughout the building.

The room remained silent, except for the air conditioner, that continued blowing cool air throughout the room as the body of Mr. Callahan was slumped against the wall just under the window.

Allan only spoke one word, “damn.”