41And here is chapter two. Introduction to Smith, the interview, and Aryan almost loses her cool. Shocking shocking. Tsk tsk. Well I'll let you read.
Justified Homicide
Aryan's back was to the door as was the mirror/window that was used in interviews. She raised her hand, palm facing the mirror and said, "Hi Smith." She heard a sigh.
"Am I ever going to fool you?" a male voice asked.
"Nope," she replied dully, not looking up from her back. She heard foot steps that stopped in front of the chair next to her, a pause in which she guessed Smith and Shelling were shaking hands, the a scraping sound as the chair next to her was pulled in to be sat on.
"We trained you to well I guess," the voice continued.
"Yep," she said, again in the same dull tone.
"Aryan, sit up straight, what have you been taught?" the male voice said sharper, and Aryan pushed herself up from the comfortable slouched position she was in and looked at the person belonging to the voice. It belonged to a man in his early to mid fifties; he never actually said how old he was, with going grey and going bald hair. His eyes were a hard light blue. He was dressed in a navy blue business suit. Aryan's guess was right, it was Smith.
"Thank you Mr. Smith," Shelling said, "for coming here." Smith appeared not to have heard him.
"Get that hair out of your eyes," he commanded. With a small sigh and rolling of her eyes Aryan pushed her hair behind her ears.
"I though I was allowed to act depressed," she said.
"Not in the presence of others," Smith corrected.
"Well that's stupid," Aryan mumbled.
"Accept it Aryan," Smith said before turning back to Shelling. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"
"As I was saying," Shelling said obviously glad to be back in charge, "thank you for coming Mr. Smith."
"I didn't come here for you," Smith said, "just long enough for Aryan to answer your idiotic questions then get her out of here." Aryan smiled, people always wondered were she got her, I could care less what you think attitude. It was from Smith. Almost everyone in the Academy had picked it up.
"Oh," Shelling's face fell, "well I had asked her if she knew these to people." He waved his hand to the pictures. Smith looked at them briefly, and then looked up and glared at Shelling.
"Should I answer Smith?" Aryan asked to keep him on track.
"May as well," Smith replied.
"Well, I know her," she said pointing to the picture of the girl.
"And the other one?" Shelling asked.
"He's not human, making him not a person, meaning even if I did know him I wouldn't have to answer that," Aryan said matter-of-factly.
"Aryan," Smith said in a warning tone. She sighed.
"All right, I know the cold hearted monster," she said looking disgustedly at the picture of the male.
"Aryan," Smith said n the same warning tone.
"What he was," Aryan said defensively, "that's all he was."
"Why do you say that?" Shelling asked taking the pictures away.
"He's a murder," Aryan said coolly, "a cold blooded murderer."
"And what makes you say that?" Shelling said. Aryan looked doubtfully at Smith, who nodded.
"I saw him kill someone," Aryan said simply.
"Who?" Shelling asked leaning forward. He had long since sat back down, and was very calm now.
"Cassie," Aryan said.
"Who's Cassie?"
"Cassandra," Aryan replied.
"And who is this Cassandra?" Shelling asked.
"My best friend," Aryan said, "and the girl in the other picture." She slapped a hand over her mouth. That was almost too much. She looked fearfully and Smith. He just nodded.
"So you do know her," Shelling said.
"I told you I did," Aryan said removing her hand.
"Right," Shelling said, "so what's his name?"
"I ain't telling you," Aryan said.
"And why not?" Shelling asked his temper rising again.
"Because she's not allowed," Smith said. "Next question."
"Not allowed?" Shelling said raising an eyebrow. It dropped when Smith looked at him sharply. "OK," he brought out a different picture and placed it in front of Aryan, "do you know what that is?" Aryan looked at it. It was a picture of what looked to be a cross, with a sharp pointy bottom. The pointy part was bloody, and the blood trailed up and stopped at one point. After that point all around the cross was garlic. Lots and lots of garlic.
"A bloody cross with garlic on it," Aryan said, "Why?"
"We found this in his body, over his heart," Shelling said, "their was something wet about it. Trace said it was water."
"Holy water," Aryan corrected without thinking.
"Excuse me?" Shelling said.
"It obviously has to be Holy water," she said covering up her mistake.
"What makes you say that?" Shelling asked.
"Simple," Aryan said, "their are four things that can kill a vampire, a cross, a stake through the heart, Holy water, or garlic. Obviously whoever killed him thought him to be a vampire, and hated him enough to make sure he was dead; with a stake made from a cross, with garlic wrapped around it, and blessed with Holy water."
"And you know this how?" Shelling asked.
"I love the supernatural," Aryan said, "I've been studying it for a long time." She shrugged, "I think that," she pointed to the picture, "would be a," she paused to think, "a Migorus Cross Death."
"Migorus Cross Death?" Shelling asked. Aryan nodded.
"Aryan, that's quite enough of your supernatural nonsense," Smith said.
"Alright, alright, gees," Aryan mumbled rolling her eyes. She started to slouch down in her chair again.
"Sit up straight," Smith said without missing a beat.
"How do you do that?" Aryan asked sitting up.
"Never you mind," Smith said, "are we done?"
"Um, no," Shelling said, "we need a DNA sample and fingerprints from Aryan."
"No," Aryan said at once.
"Do you have a warrant?" Smith asked.
"No, we were hoping she would just volunteer it," Shelling said.
"No absolutely not!" Smith said standing up. Aryan knew why. The whole point of being in the academy was being not existent. Nothing that makes them unique was to be put out were others could have easy access to it.
"And why not?" Shelling asked standing up.
"Because you don't have a warrant," Smith said, "and even if you did, the answer would still be no." Aryan raised her eyebrow's that was something that sure to never happen. "Aryan, go wait out in the reception area." She got up.
"Were not done here," Shelling said, "you sit back down."
"Sorry, I'm not supposed to listen to you," Aryan said. She stuck her tongue out at Shelling, then turned on her heels and stalked from the room letting it slam shut behind her. She could already here Smith and Shelling yelling at each other. "That was close," she breathed. She had almost spilled her secret out to Shelling, and she was too experienced to just be able to do that. She walked through the building back to the reception area, sat down and pulled out her journal.
And viola! Likey? No likey? See room for improvement? Please tell me. Please review.
Rebellion Author.