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Reading books MYSTERY & CRIMEHowever, all readers - sooner or later - find for themselves a literary genre that is fundamentally different from all others.
An astonishing number of readers read mystery and crime.
The peculiarities of such constant attention to mystery and crime by the most diverse readership has been and remains the subject of numerous studies.
But seriously, a detective mystery should matted the reader. However, readers are very different: some try to guess who the killer is, others try to figure out the killer using mathematical methods, and others prefer to get pleasure only by turning the last page.
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The cornerstone of the reader's well-deserved interest mystery and crime is that the criminal is doomed to suffer the punishment he deserves. This is the logic of the detective form. Otherwise, the reader will be dissatisfied and even annoyed.
Naturally, you can’t create a perfect story of mystery and crime . The author must inevitably sacrifice something of his own, but he must have some higher value that would fundamentally distinguish him from other authors. The works of Hammett, Chandler, McDonald, Cain, Stout, containing such peculiar "Emeralds", from generation to generation remain interesting for millions of fans, young and old.


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Read books online » Mystery & Crime » Sleepless Nights by Blue Sutcliffe (you can read anyone .TXT) 📖

Book online «Sleepless Nights by Blue Sutcliffe (you can read anyone .TXT) đŸ“–Â». Author Blue Sutcliffe



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Introduction

 

 

 

 

 

 Dedicated to Jodie Holmes & Valkyrie Cain

for making me fall in love with storytelling

 

Chapter I - For The Portfolio

August 17th, 2046 : Frank's Residence

 

Frank reached into the oak cabinet and ejected a crystal structured glass. Filled it with whiskey from a large bottle, similar looking to his glass, and sat down at the dusty old type writer. He then proceded to press the glass against his wrinkled head, and began to type


Chapter II - Breakable Things

August 17th, 2021 : The Hills

 

“Jesus Christ!” The woman was loosely jammed into the vending machine, the coils which previously held confectionary now jammed through her broken body. The police lights created a disco like effect on her insides that had recently been violently thrown to the floor. Jackson, paying no attention to his partner, focused on keeping his balance while walking towards the body. The blood was making it hard to walk. Slicing up the side of his black boots. Barely managing, he finally stood in front of her.

Jackson slipped the files out from beneath his arm. “Amanda Geralds, age 24. Studying at Kieilla University. Lives in a small town called Mori” his voice started to rasp as he stuggled to breathe. “Not far from the bay-side trade, we should investigate that furth-“ Jackson was half way through registering the thought when he heard a short yelp from behind him. Whirling around, handgun now at the ready, he found Charles sprawled across the ground, covered in red. “I can tell you’re going places” said Frank said, who was observing him a few meters away. Charles tried and failed to get back on his feet. “Fuck you, Frank. Just help me up”. Jackson grunted, holstered his weapon, and continued his evaluation. Internally. Frank extended his hand and looked at the other personnel as they cautiously eyed Charles. Once he was up, frank leaned in close “your making friends at every corner” he whispered, giving Charles a concerned look. Saying nothing he and Frank stalked to separate parts of the yellow tape that held the gathering crowd.

“Are you done making yourself familiar with Amanda?” mocked Jackson.

“Who?” replied Charles, who was attempting to wipe the blood from his clothes in vein. Jackson waved his ballpoint pen at the girl, flicking through the files. “The gal embracing the vender”.

Charles gave him a disgusted look, “you have problems jacks”.

“Just do your thing!” Jackson snapped back,

suprised at his sudden burst of anger jackson turned away.

Charles sighed gently and closed his eyes.

 

Charles opened his eyes, the landscape had saturated itself with all different shades of red. His head hurt, but it always did. He spotted Amanda, wearing a yellow sleeveless shirt and blue jeans, her brown hair danced behind her in the nights' wind. Charles checked his watch, which presented itself motionless. The vending machine was lit up with a shitty flickering light behind a small cafe that had closed hours ago. She walked to the machine and put in a few notes. With a loud whirring sound the premade sandwich, which probably contained at least five different diseases, gradually made its way to the front of the coils. Amanda stared blankly at the scratched glass as the unheard pebbles crunched behind her.

It started to scream.

Amanda covered her ears and dived blindly into the dim light of the vending machine. The glass

shattering instantly as she started to crawl inside the machine as best she could. Charles could only look onwards, knowing how it would end. It reached for her, but retreated from the vending machines dim flickering light, and started to look for a way around it. After a short while it realised this was a pointless effort. Now reaching for Amanda’s white wallet that had been cast to the dust.  Amanda had dropped it moments ago. It started to insert insert the dirty notes into the machine, and kept doing so until there weren't any more notes to insert. Then it proceeded to sprawl its hands across the machines’ desperately illuminated buttons. 

Chapter III - A Wrench In The Works

August 17th, 2021 : The Hills

 

Charles stumbled to his feet, nearly falling where the pavement met the dirt. Groaning, he looked around. Everything was blurry, muffled. His vision was slowly returning. Upon seeing Jacksons' extended tissue he gladly accepted it and whipped his now bleeding nose. “Well?” said Jackson, as if he had been waiting for hours.

“I don’t know, it was
 Distorted, but I know it’s something new, something we haven’t seen before. Or at least I havn't seen anything like it”

“Something new? Newer than the fact that your allowed to help us after what you pulled?”

“He had it coming, you know that”

Jackson grunted impatiently, “Well, it’s nearly sun down, back in the con-shield”.

Charles looked over his shoulder to the sound of van doors opening and frank motioned his arms to a moderately large metal device in the back of a grey van. He was exaggerating his arms as if he were inviting the small council inside. Trudging over to the van he swept his look over the scenes’ personnel, who looked away, as if he might tear them apart if they starred to long. Imitating Jacksons’ grunt when approaching Frank, who presented him with an idiotic smile, he flipped out his phone. Nothing.

Charles climbed into the containment shield and listened to Frank rattle with the control panel which was crudely attached to the device. “It’s not working Jacks”. Jackson walked over to the device not containing Charles. Jackson looked over at the engineers who were meant to be overseeing that the new containment shield worked. Yet they only presented him with weak smiles and petty excuses. Charles, all the while, kept a blank look on his face. He was thinking about how the sun worked, not that he was a scientist. He was just thinking about how it constantly kept fuelling itself when logic dictates that gas and fire mixed together would explode and evaporate. Which is exactly what the sun was. A mixture of gas and fire. Yet it kept on going. Feeling less like a scientist, he continued to ponder.

 Jackson silently muttered to himself while Frank continued to tamper inconsistently with the control panel. Jackson, finally growing tired of the game, saw the sun setting in the background. Drawing his handgun he walked towards Charles, who started to speak “Why do you think-“. Jackson’s gun went off several times before Charles could finish. Everyone jumped for cover except Frank and Jackson, who remained in their original stance. “He’s going to have one hell of a headache later” Frank said in a ‘matter-of-fact’ way. Jackson shut the doors of the grey van. Charles’ body was still lying at an awkward angle. “I want to follow up with forensics, I’ll take it from here” Jackson half yelled as he walked away. Frank gave Jackson the thumbs up and practically bolted into the van.

 

 

Chapter IV - Breadcrumbs

 August 18th, 2021 : The Whispers

 

Charles woke to the sound of pounding, the smell of chips and the wind wafting gently through his hair. Opening his eyes, he found Frank sitting on one of the many floating platforms of the whispers. “Why are we here frank?” asked Charles, supporting his head atop his arms. “Because Ron here makes the best fish n’ chips in town” explained frank, continuing his chips. Ron thanked him with a small nod, returning his attention to cooking. Relaxing, charles collapsed back onto what he, for no good reason, thought was a couch. His spine gave a gaudy crunch when he hit steel as he spun onto the ground. In a conclusive groan Charles reversed himself onto his back and sighted “Why are we really here frank?”

Frank stood up from the floating platform, tugged his shirt straight, cleared his throat, put his left hand in its pocket and proceeded to circle Charles. “Well! As you probably know the whispers are the famous floating islands of Terra and are inhabited by the native priests called the Kogai. Now, the reason these islands are called the whispers are that the occupants can talk to the dead which are held here by their god
 What was his name again? Anyway, not important. So what I’m thinking is, we go talk to Amanda!”

Charles had gathered enough energy to stand and he was reaching for the chips, supporting himself on the cold steel of the containment shield. “Did you ever think about becoming a detective yourself?” Charles asked. Frank responded with a light smile “I’m too busy dragging your ass around.”

 

[UNFINISHED]

 

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