Off: Mystery/Thriller

The kid shuffled forward, hand jammed deep into his pockets. A bulge was the only indicated that he held more than his fists in there. Ross stepped back and leaned against the tin door to his restaurant, wiped his hands on his bloodstained apron, and lit up a cigarette, unfazed. "Yeah?" he asked the kid as he approached. "You want something? You want a job? Your sister, she likes her job just fine." His eyes narrowed as he watched the kid. Something wasn't right, there. It was off. He could smell it. You work in the restaurant business, you get a nose for smelling things that were off before anybody else could. It was essential. "They're dead," the kid said, before he fell over at Ross's feet. "Shit!" Ross swore. He ditched his cigarette into a puddle in the alleyway and stooped over the kid. "Kid?" Ross touched his shoulder, and felt something hot and wet against his fingers.


Inspiration: The first line is from an example of writing to show not tell, actually. Y'know, instead of "He walked over and said"
Story Potential: High.
Finished Length: ?
Notes: Ross may or may not be having an affair with the kid's sister. But the girl's family is dead, and she's in danger. Time to whip out that can of wup-ass from the back of the pantry.