Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
⋆⋆⋆⋆
Reading over the headline from the Raccoon City Times seemed to be the only thing that kept her busy. Her eyes scanned over every sentence, certain words like cannibals and undead standing out every so often. Her chin rested in her palm, her eyebrows furrowed together in concentration, her mind deep in thought. This situation is getting out of hand. Crime rates soared through the roof these past few months, such as destructive riots or violent behavior toward each other. And it wasn't just their regular thugs the Raccoon Police Department greet on a daily basis. People attacked each other, even bit some of the arresting officers who came to take care of the problem. A few of them either ended up in the hospital, or in a coffin.
A small stack of case files slamming on her desk startled her so much she let out a gasp. She looked up, paper clutched in her hands to find Lieutenant Marvin Branagh staring down at her with his usual stern expression.
"Quit racking your brain over this shit, Steinbeck. You're gonna give yourself a migraine," he ordered.
"Y-Yes, sir," she stuttered, mindlessly taking the stack and putting it off neatly in the corner, grabbing one for herself.
"It's just... I don't want you to overthink this is all. You've already pulled an all-nighter here at the precinct once. Don't get me wrong, your mentality is phenomenal, but your health is most important."
She nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. With no other words to say, Marvin took his leave. She leaned back in her chair casually and took a breath of air before flipping the file open before her.
"Wow. He is such a sucker for you. You must like having him wrapped around your finger, huh?" The voice of her colleague, Rita Phillips, perked up, resulting in a smile to form on her face and looking up at the short blonde across from her.
"Mmm, kinda. But it's nice to get what I want every once in a while," she admitted, fiddling with her pen.
"Oh, Kelly, you devious little minx."
Both women laughed. It was nice having been put in the same room with someone who shared the same interests, style and likings as Kelly. Most of the department were men, making it too difficult to share her personal feelings with them. Not that she wouldn't; she'd grown to love every one of them in her two years after being transferred. Kelly trusted them with her life. They haven't let her down yet, giving her an expectation of her career as a detective in the future.
Kelly eyed the papers, circling important details on each page. Her dedication to her job had her hyper focused on some nights, which was a problem. Obviously, she enjoyed putting scumbags behind bars, but it soon became an addiction, and it got in the way of her personal life. Kelly has been aware of it and has been trying to dial it down.
