The DownPour

Jinga has been living in Detroit's 'hood' where the low class civilians live. Lately he wasn't able to sleep at home and the only way to get rest is by going into a motel. He lived a normal life alone without anybody and one day he meets a officer named Reno and his female partner Maria. They are investigating the story on the 'Down Pour' Serial killer. But how far will they get? (This is made by Me, John, so I hope you enjoy.)

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1. Meet Jinga

 

The thunder hurried down into the atmosphere and with an immense 'Boom!' I jumped awake. Lighting snuck past my window's shades and lit up the room. My breathing was heavy and solid; I lifted my hand to my chest and felt my heart ready to jump out of my ribcage. A while passed before my breathing became firm and calm. I decided to lie back down on my comfortable pillow and looked up at my blank white ceiling. The downpour outside was heavy and it seemed to echo into my brain.

It was making it hard for me to think straight, I looked at my digital clock on his counter, 'Midnight…damn it this has been happening for the past month now. I just can't seem to be able to sleep in other places than a motel…' I used my finger tips to move my pure black hair out of my eyes. After a moment I swiftly got out of my beds, I grabbed a blue shirt with a logo of an intimidating skull on it, and then over that I put my dark jacket on. I grabbed a pair of old Jordan's I had in the closet and opened my room's door. I walked down the hall into the gloomy bathroom and turned the light on.

I ambled towards the mirror and washed my face; I put the dark hood over my head and zipped up my jacket. I turned off the light then went down the stairs which stood to the left of the bathroom. I headed down the steps and grabbed my keys off of the night stand that stood by the wooden door. I grabbed the rusty handle on the door and turned it before pushing it open. I made sure to lock it behind me after I closed it and went down the stone steps. Of course, people still wandered about on the streets. I live in the place that people like to call the 'hood' also known as, the projects. It's a very hard living for us low class citizens here, especially in this state, the state known as the worst one out of all fifty, Detroit.

I got on my motorcycle and triggered it on, there was a small roar coming from the engine as I did so. I put my blaring red helmet on and swiftly drove down the road. After at least mile of smooth driving I came to halt at the motel. I parked my motorcycle and pulled my helmet off, by this time my hoddie wasn't over my head so the rain poured over my hair. I made my way to the steel door that had a 'Welcome, please come in' signal on it and moseyed on in.

I strolled towards the counter and on the other side of it stood a blonde lady with unusual purple eyes. I greeted her in a low pleasant tone, "Excuse me?" She looked up from a newspaper that said in big red letters, 'BE AWARE'.

"Yes?" She asked clearing her throat.

"Im looking for a room just for tonight, do you have any available at this moment?" I asked calmly as I looked down at the newspaper again, 'A serial killer is on the loose in Detroit, we hereby warn you to stay home at night and lock your doors..' I elevated an eyebrow but disregarded it.

"Ah, yes." She pulled a paper out, "Just sign your name, the time, the date, and pay me in cash and everything will be just fine." She nodded lightly. I did as she said and after paying her she handed me the key, she told me my room's number and I quickly marched outside, I want to the side of the building where the rooms where at. I soon marched into room '12' aka my room.

I placed the key down and closed the door locking it, I put my gear away and laid down on the bed, 'Serial killer huh…I wonder what that's about.'

To be continued…

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