Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors!
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Welcome to Part 7 of Blood Angel Rising, presented to you 8 sentences at a time through Weekend Writing Warriors. Check out the first six installments here. Last time, it seemed that Monica finally took out…whatever is was on the other side of the door in the strange and abandoned house. This week, as they say, the plot thickens…
The bloody rain pounded against the roof like a horde of nails, but Monica still heard the wooden floorboards creak behind her.
She took a deep breath, blinked the sweat from her eyes and rolled onto her chest, swinging around to aim the SIG down the hallway at her back.
A tall and broad shouldered man, probably somewhere in his forties with a Clark Kent haircut and a ski jacket that looked entirely unsuited for northern Washington, stood in the hall and aimed a Beretta Px4 Storm directly at her. His eyes were set and determined, and he had the same kind of angular jaw as the guys who modeled polo shirts for J Crew. A badge wallet hung at his waist.
“Drop it,” he said, and Monica almost laughed.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said. “Do you have any idea what’s going on here?”
Check in next week for Part 8. Thanks for dropping by, and have a great weekend!