𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐍 [𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 1]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖𝐒: 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏✨

STAGE THREE REVIEWS.

THE CHALLENGE/HARD REVIEW STAGE
THEME: MYSTERY

We are back, guys, and we are so excited for you to see the works that our contestants have for us in this stage.

Before we move on, Twenty Contestants were supposed to participate in this stage but we are now down by two contestants: The Wordsmith and Vinylwriter.

The Wordsmith was unfortunately disqualified for no submission and Vinylwriter had to back down from the competition because of some personal issues. We wish both of them the best though.

Now we have Eighteen Contestants in the competition and we are moving forward. One random half of the contestants will go in this page and the other half in the next.

Note to Contestants: Each of you will get one review each.

Are you ready to read some stories? 🔥

CONTESTANTS

002 OhhVeeOhh

004 Jagunjagun

007 DD Marx

009 Thepurplewriter

011 Akira_16

014 Pam

020 Temi_Creates

023 Faywrites

026 JaneTheVirgin

PEN NAME: OHHVEEOHH

SERIAL NO: 002

TITLE: THE LYING DETECTIVE OR THE GUILTY WIFE.

I have always been good at the game of hide and seek. Although I never imagined I will seek what I hid. But on a brighter side of it, it sums me into a patient liar.

And no, I don't lie to live, in fact, my job is one that requires truth at all times. However, deception is too sweet to be spat out. So, I chew it, you chew it. . .and we know ourselves.

"This is stupid," DCI Ahmed retorts before moving away from the shiny oxblood venza. I follow behind and await his order. "Give me a recap on what happened here, Tolu," he demands, his legs apart, arms folded as he watches the Major Crime Team tackle the scene with exigency.

My eyes scan the area for someone, and when I see her crying uncontrollably with a few sympathizers flanking her sides, I mark her, mentally.

"Who's she?" My boss asks.

I bristle. "She's the wife. She went to the station early this morning to report her husband has been killed."

DCI Ahmed raises a brow in befuddlement and tilts his head to see me. "But there's no dead body here. Or did you see any by the time you arrived?"

I shake my head slowly whilst fighting the irritation trying to take full course of me. Something has gone wrong with my lie and someone may catch up soon. No one has to know I knew when the man was supposedly killed.

"I was on my way to work when I saw the car-"

"And then?" My boss interrupts. Just before I can get annoyed with him cutting me short, he continues, "Look at the way the car's packed-" we turn to view it, and a rush of last night's event floods my memory.

There was so much blood in the car, on the tarred road, and even in my own car. I suddenly feel for my coat's holes and shove my cold, shaky hands in them. My teeth clatter against the shivers I feel. No one can see the blood I saw last night because it rained after I left.