Short Stories

You, Of Course

"Francis! We've got to go. Now!" Anderson shouted from his gear bike. He tossed my titanium steampunk goggles from his left hand, which I deftly caught in my right. I slid them on and hopped on the rear of the seat and slid my hands around his waist.

"What is it?" I inquired.

"A suicide. Or at least that's what the police are saying."

"A murder then."

"You know me too well."

He revved the motor and then sped us away down the street, the bike kicking up dust behind us as we drove on. The wind rushed through my hair, and I smiled at the sensation.

But soon enough, Anderson stopped the bike in front of an old warehouse. I leapt off the back of the bike and marched into the room.

A body laid on the floor, a pool of blood surrounding the left half of the head. Claw marks were visible in the dust on the floor as if the person had tried to crawl across the floor. I removed my dusty goggles to get a closer look and saw that the body was covered in a thin layer of dust, despite the freshness of the blood.

"You were right Anderson, this is not a suicide indeed. Obviously a murder. However, I do believe I know who did it already and what they plan to do next."

"Who is it Francis?" he asked.

"You, of course. You're left handed, and the pool of blood signifies a left handed murdered was here. And the thin layer of dust covering the body was kicked up when you speedily rode your bike out of here.

"As for what the murderer plans to do next, kill me. I know you too well and already have quite the profile on your crimes. Now drop the gun."

Anderson pulled a revolver out from his jacket and let it clatter to the ground. I smirked.

"No wonder you were so good at solving other people's murders. You're a murderer yourself!"

And with that, I pulled my titanium goggles back over my face and leapt on the bike, speeding off before he could say another word.

For the Wattpad Punk Fiction Contest: Punk Out, Punk Fast