Tagged by @sarahlizziewrites for this one. As per usual, I'm working on multiple WIPs at a time, so screw it: since this was late, have 18 lines from two different WIPs.
From Late Night in Hollyfield
Daniel took a deep breath, feeling the cold night air fill his lungs: the sharp smells of the city came with it, along with the traces of old blood. Too old to be from the murder scene.
His sense of hearing was just as acute as his sense of smell, every night sound playing sharply in his ears as he passed through quiet streets and darkened neighborhoods.
The sounds of a keyboard typing, a set of footsteps pacing across worn floorboards, the muffled laughter of an old sitcom playing on a television. Nothing useful.
Scents of old and new sweat, spilled beer, and rancid urine wafted from Quentin's, the neon still warm after being switched off for the night, a faint humming vibrating through the coils as it cooled. No one was inside, but something stood out to Daniel, something that made him hurry to the side of the bar, creeping through the shadows.
Beneath the normal stenches of any sort of public drinking spot, the rusty odor of fresh blood wafted in the air, guiding him towards its source.
Behind the bar, only just hidden behind some overgrown bushes, was a fresh pool of crimson, spreading across the pavement.
From Whisper in The Attic
While I was sorting through a bedroom filled with mirrors and watercolors of fields, something thudded heavily above me: the house had an attic, a big one, and the noise had sounded an awful lot like a footstep.
No one was supposed to be there, and Grandma was dead… footsteps in the attic was one of the worst things you could hear in an empty house when you're in it alone.
"Fuck this," I muttered, slowly getting to my feet. I wasn't going to stick around and find out who was screwing around up there. With all of Grandma's collections laying about, the chances of something being valuable enough to entice a robber was likely.
Another thud, and what sounded like… music? Someone broke into an old house in the woods just to play music?
More footsteps, this time sounding like two or three people all at once, a rhythmic sound like they trespassers were line dancing up there. The music played on, sounding like some sort of flute mixed with a low voice singing in a throaty rasp that made the skin on the back of my neck crawl.
Tagging @winglesswriter @gioia-writes-and-others @aintgonnatakethis @lordkingsmith @sleepyowlwrites @nightmaricwriter @sywritesstuff @phantomfemmes @onravenshill
