Prologue: Storm Cutler
A/N: All Rights Reserved © 2023
Under no circumstances is this story or its contents to be replicated, translated, duplicated, and or distributed in any way or form without the permission of the author (Me).
Any similarities between fictional and or real persons, places, or things are purely coincidental.
I also want to apologize for any grammar and or spelling errors that may occur during this story. I do reread and sometimes catch the mistakes and fix them, but unfortunately, I cannot catch them all. Sorry in advance.
June 26th, 2024
Future:
Sitting in front of her, I examined every feature she had, down from her tousled shoulder-length brown hair to her big, innocent brown eyes and black-painted baby doll shoes. I knew there was nothing innocent about her. I leaned back in my seat, just watching as she played with her fingers in nervousness.
It was her first time in an interrogation room, and it was for one of the worst crimes you could commit. The air was bitingly cold and filled with tension. She was probably aware that the glass window on the side of us held watchers by the way her eyes kept flitting to it.
At one point, she caught her reflection and stared at it for a long while. Watching as her face morphed into one of disapproval and shame, I noticed the angry look in her eyes. There was a hint of vulnerability even though she wasn’t fully facing me. She looked away and back at me, shifting uncomfortably.
She could feel the tension in the atmosphere, and she didn’t like it. She hated it, in fact. I could tell by the slight glare on her face, even though she was trying to seem neutral and unbothered, as though she had nothing to hide. It was a tactic I used in all the interrogations I carried out.
I liked to watch them sweat it out, maybe wonder if they might get away with it if no one knew what they did. Or perhaps they know that they’ve been caught, and they’re thinking quickly about how to get out of it. She looked down at the table, trying to calm herself, and looked up at me, appearing calm and collected, but I already knew she was anything but. She was slowly but surely going to start cracking.
“Is there a reason I’m here, officer….Cutler?” her voice was low and tremulous. Her worries were seeping into her words, and she swallowed thickly, trying to hold herself together.
“I think you know the reason,” I said, putting it simply. My voice was calm and calculated. As of right now, there was nothing concrete, but what I did have was pretty damning. I didn’t want to go right in and hound her.
She was smart, so I knew she’d be able to find a way out of this. She was also very jittery and easily nervous of commanding authority, and right now, this was my room. I was in charge of how this would go.
How her eyes moved from me, avoiding my gaze, and just continuing to flit around the bare room showed her nervousness. I was going to let her nerves eat away at her. Maybe she’ll crack and give out the information I’m not searching for. Perhaps she’ll stand her ground. I don’t know, but we’re about to find out and see.
“I don’t, so if there’s no reason for me to be here, I’d like to leave,” her small, penetrating voice rang out.
A ghost of a smile flitted across my lips, and I looked at her, one eyebrow-raising. She looked at me, defiance in her eyes, and that’s when I put something on the table. A tan folder. It was practically empty save for one item—a picture. I had more than that, but I didn’t want to show it to her yet. I slid it to her, and she looked down at it before looking at me in question. I waited patiently as she slowly opened it, swallowing thickly.
She paled at the photo, and her hands began trembling. This was pretty damning, and looking further into her reaction, she knew how this was going to play out, and it didn’t look good for her. She looked back up at me, the defiance in her eyes gone as fear replaced it and swallowed before speaking. “I want a lawyer,” she voiced shakily.
“I’m sure you do
