Prompt Short Story: Perspective – Egs & Danson

Egs & Danson

(WIP, “Perspective”)


Lee Hulme

[All stories in this series:
1: Drew     2: Vicky     3: Egs     4: Danson     5: Egs & Danson     6: Nelle     7: Elliot     8: Emmeline    9: Josie     10: Nelson     11: Jase     12: Hilda     13: Jase & Danson     14: Drew & Vicky     15: Donna & Elliot     16: Creature]


The two detectives sat down over a meal cooked by Jase, who had given Danson a kiss, winked at Egs, and waltzed out of the front door in his leather and satin finery, leaaving them in peace to discuss the case.

They ate in near silence, Egs in particular enjoying the food after the nights of takeout and easy-cook meals. Towards the end, as Danson brought homemade cheesecake from the kitchen along with another couple of bottles of wine, they settled more comfortably in the living room armchairs, spreading files out on the coffee table.

“Alright, let’s get down to it,” Egs said finally, “We know how she died. We have some witnesses but no solid leads on even a description of the killer – who might actually be multiple killers, based on the occult side of things.”

Danson nodded, “We discounted Drew, unofficially at least, neither of us think they’re involved with the murder, but they might have also been targeted in a failed attempt, so we’re keeping an eye on them just in case.”

“So in short, and before we waste our time some more going through every line we’ve pursued so far, we have nothing. At least, nothing we can tell anyone,” Egs continued. “But we do have Alison’s ghost asking us to free her, and your ma telling us bad shit is coming and it’s related somehow to your childhood and her death, but no specifics on any of this, and we can’t tell anyone else.”

They thumbed through the useless files quietly, looking in vain for anything they might have missed the previous thousand times.

Danson felt it first. The hair on the back of his neck rose, sending a shiver down his spine, raising goosebumps along his arms. He was on his feet in a second, scanning the room.

Egs stood up, instinctively protecting her partner, “Dude, what?”

Danson kept looking around, “You don’t feel that?”

“Feel wh- oh…” Egs’ hackles rose as the room filled with something like static electricity.

Outside, the warm night vanished, the wind sang through the woods at the back of the property and the trees whispered a warning of the approaching forces.

Facing the back windows, both Egs and Danson waited, tense, ready to act.

A voice boomed around them, bouncing off the walls into their ears, creating its own echo. “Here you stand, such good and brave humans, no idea what you really are.”

They both started, exchanging a glance that confirmed they both heard the voice.

“Do not stand against me. Your fate was written at your birth, and belongs only to me.

Danson opened his mouth to answer, but Egs’ hand on his arm stopped his retort.

“I was summoned again by fool who thought they could control me. I played with them while I waited for you to seek me out, but nothing. You are ignorant of me, of your purpose. I wait no longer. You will come to me and you will kneel, and you will obey.”

The voice faded, the wind died, and room fell still.

Adrenaline still coursing, Egs and Danson checked the house, the garden, even the woods, with guns at the ready and inner coils drawn tight. Nothing.

Back inside, as their hearts stopped pumping, as their brains recovered, both of them lost the abiity to stand and collapsed back into their chairs. Danson’s ruddy face was grey but for two white spots on his cheeks, his eyes narrowed to slits. Egs’ light brown skin was pale, sheened with sweat, and her eyes darted around the room. Without thinking, they both reached out and held each others’ hand as Egs poured them both new glasses of wine.

“Do you want to what the fuck first, or should I?” she asked him, trying to ground them both.

Danson looked at her and squeezed her hand gratefully, before letting it go to pick up his glass. “What. The. Fuck?” he croaked.

Egs clinked his glass with hers, hand trembling, “What the fuck…”

Writing Prompt used:

Writing Prompt: The trees whisper a warning of the approaching forces.

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