It was more than a mess. It was a massacre. Usually, one dead guy isn't sufficient for a massacre, but this was an exception. Somehow, he had been splattered all over the inside of his second-story office. His right arm lay almost casually across the desk, while his head sat in a bloody puddle by the door. The shattered wall across the hallway, the splintered door and large windy hole in the wall behind him told the story of an absurdly well-armed murderer. I gagged and stepped back into the hallway. &quot;Ahny thaughts, mistah fancy pants?&quot; The Sheriff, in his local drawl. I stared at the gold star pinned to his jacket for a few moments and swallowed, before looking at his face. &quot;Same M.O. There won't be any evidence in here. Get forensics into the buildings across the street, and see if someone can sift bullet fragments out of the rubble.&quot; &quot;Ye're really new around heah, ain't'cha, boy?&quot; I nodded. &quot;'Roun' heah, we don' _have_ a forensics team. If yeh wan' _ev'dence_, ye'll have ta' get it 'chaself.&quot; _Yay._ 2007-12-12T00:51:09Z http://ficlets.com/feed/story/15559 <p>Nice&#8230; but what kind of accent is that? It&#8217;s kind of confused.</p> http://ficlets.com/stories/15559?basename=27701 2007-12-12T00:51:09Z Leaky fountain pencil http://ficlets.com/authors/lfpdeb <p>Nicely done. You&#8217;ve set up the situation immensely well. I was cringing at the gruesome stuff and laughing at the amusing stuff.</p> http://ficlets.com/stories/15559?basename=27352 2007-12-09T21:16:11Z KasumiRose http://ficlets.com/authors/kasumirose