“Unfinished Sonata”

By: WinterViolet

Prologue

The dusky twilight dug deeper into the foggy night, the silver moon lighting the whole dark corners of Manhattan. Someone was surely following her; Megan sensed the uncomfortable feeling the moment she stepped out of the ‘Crows’ office to see David off. It was an eerie feeling she wished she could avoid but she couldn’t; yet it was vaguely hinted to be a surreal fact. Of course, what could she see in this blinding darkness? She knew someone was following her, but who? ----she was completely clueless. She quickened her pace, forcing her sluggish feet to move faster.

She heard the footsteps of her stalker walking closer to her, at the same speed she had. Finally, seeing the lamp post at the corner of the dark alley, Megan knew she could still escape. The moment she would exit the alley, she was partly saved. Her apartment was not far from there. It was merely a few blocks away. As she fled across the bright street more speedily than her earlier pace, the footsteps seemed to have vanished.

She sighed in relief, but then realizing it was half past midnight. The night seemed to have darkened even further, where the dogs continued to howl at the starless night sky, where the cats prolonged their jeering with one another for a fish meal, and where the lights sporadically would flush out into the pitch-black darkness. Megan’s heart raced, quickly pumping more blood up to her veins than usual. She wasn’t afraid of the flowing darkness; she was afraid of the stranger in the darkness.

The sound of the footsteps didn’t return by then, but it still made Megan feel peculiar about it. It was dark again--- the moment in which her killer could pounce at her in a surprise attack. She entered her apartment, panting, closing the door behind her as quick as lightning, then locking it hastily. She dropped to the floor instantly; she knew she had reached her sanctuary.

Megan walked to the living room, turning the television off and noticing Anthony was not here. He wasn’t here at all.

She ran towards the two different bedrooms across the hall, first to his room then with hers, checking every place he could have been hiding.

“Anthony! I’m home,” she knew she yelled that one out only it came out as a gruff. She was in too much tension already that she couldn’t even talk.

She headed for the kitchen, to the bathroom, under the table----everywhere. Devastatingly disturbed, Megan lounged herself unto the coach, thinking of where else could a 9-year-old go. Megan knew this didn’t usually occur, but what were the odds? Anthony was a good boy. Anyone might have taken advantage of that. What would they gain if they kidnapped him? Megan wasn’t rich; in fact she was still fired from her job after a long talk with David. How would she pay the ransom? If there were any ransom?

Paranoid, Megan seized the phone to dial 911. Before the mechanical operator answered on the other line, she noticed sheets of paper pressed underneath the phone. She grabbed it, the line still ringing, and Megan felt her heart stop with horror as she looked at it.

“I won” was written on top of it, scribbled simply by a finger with the odious smell of blood.

She turned it around, realizing it was an unfinished piece.

An unfinished sonata, the notes were written in raw blood.

A/N: My first mystery. I had a hard time thinking what to do with it but I finally decided on this one. I hope it isn't too much. I really liked the plot I planned for this one.

Review please. Thanks. ^_^