The Victim (Monthly Short Fiction Contest)

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(Edited)

Hello there! I hope you enjoy this story!

Genre: Detective
Theme: Noir

film noir | Film noir, Nick valentine, Detective aesthetic

Nancy was doing her usual late night shift at the hospital. Henry handed her the keys and told her to lock up. Then she was completely alone.

She sat down by the front desk and was almost tempted to go to sleep since she was so tired. But then there was a sound, like something had fallen.

Nancy stood up. “Hello?” No answer. She began to walk down the hall, which was almost completely dark except for the swinging lights. She felt a chill up her spine.

She tried to breathe, but it was almost like she couldn’t. When she turned around she saw someone.

Nancy stumbled back, but the man just took another step towards her. She noticed something shining in his hands. He loaded it. Nancy ran.

She heard the gun fire and ducked her head as she continued running. She could hear the boots of the man coming after her, but she didn’t dare look back. She fumbled with the keys in fear, but eventually she unlocked the door. She saw the man with the gun and slammed the door. Then she continued to run, not even checking to see if the man was there.


A knock on the door.

“Come in,” Nancy heard from inside. She opened the door and saw the man known as Jack. He was a detective, the best in the area apparently. Though she didn’t know how good he could be if he was in the middle of pouring a near empty glass of whiskey.

“Hello sir. My name is Nancy Connor. I need your help,” she said, the words she had practiced a million times that morning so she didn’t mess up. Jack looked up at her and almost seemed taken aback. Nancy took this as him judging her, but she didn’t think she looked that bad. Her blonde hair was still curled, her brown eyes weren’t filled with tears.

Jack stood up. “No need to call me sir, Ms. Connor.”

Nancy smiled. “No need to call me Ms. Connor, detective.”

Jack laughed lightly. “Well, let’s see what I can do. Tell me what happened.”

Nancy told him the whole story. Her hands shook, but she hid it with ease.

Jack nodded. “Alright. I think it’s best if we go to the scene of the crime.” Nancy wanted to tell him that that was obvious, but she refrained. He was a professional, even if his office was in the backroom of a bar called Sunny’s.

They walked through the bar. “Hey Jack, want anything,” the bartender with blue eyes asked. He shook his head. “No thanks Ronny, I’m on the job.”

Ronny raised his eyebrows. “Never stopped you before, but fine. And the lady?”

Nancy shook her head. She had never been much of a drinker anyway. “Thank you though,” she said. Ronny gave her a crooked smile.

Then she followed Jack out of the bar.


Nancy had to be honest, she did not want to be back there. Not after what happened last night. Yet she knew that she needed to know why someone was trying to kill her. So she went on.

Of course the bullets had been cleaned up, almost like nothing had happened, though of course that wasn’t the truth.

Jack crouched down and picked up a piece of what looked like cloth. He turned to Nancy, a smirk on his face. The cloth was dark green. “Cotton,” Jack pointed out, handing the piece to Nancy.

Jack continued to look around and took out a fingerprint kit. He dusted the desk, but the only fingerprints were Nancy’s. He sighed. It was getting dark already, which Nancy blamed on herself for not having gone to see Jack earlier. She had to admit, she had been terrified. She didn’t understand why she would become a target. She was nice enough. She supposed she could be a perfectionist, but she hadn’t hurt anyone. She would never.

Jack looked at his watch. “We should go. We’ll come back tomorrow, hopefully we’ll get more then,” he said. Nancy nodded and the two began to leave. Then the lights went out.

The two could barely see, but they turned to each other. Nancy ran to the door and tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. They were locked in.

Jack sighed and sat down, his back against the wall. He turned on a flashlight. Nancy sat next to him. “I’m sorry, we should’ve gone earlier,” she said.

Jack shook his head. “Not your fault. They should check if people are still in here before locking the doors.”

The two sat in silence for a while before Nancy grew tired of it. “So, how long have you been a detective,” she asked.

Jack shrugged. “Since I was 20, so about 12 years now.” Nancy nodded. “Do you have any stories?”

Jack smiled. “Too many. But what about you? How did you get to where we are now?”

Nancy shook her head. “I worked hard to get this job. My sister doesn’t exactly love it, since she’s a famed singer, but I get more money than she ever will anyway.”

“It’s not just for the money, is it?” Nancy almost laughed. “For my sister maybe. But this, I do this to help people. My parents said I always had a knack for healing.”

Jack grinned. “They must be proud.”

Nancy’s smile dropped. “Actually, they’re gone. There was an accident when I was 22. It’s just been me and my sister ever since, not that she talks to me much anymore,” she said. “What about you? Parents?”

“My parents sent me away to reform school when I was 13. Haven’t seen them since. Ronny, the bartender, he’s my only family, my cousin,” Jack explained. Nancy nodded. “I’m sorry. That’s hard,” she said, putting her hand on his shoulder. He appreciated the comfort, but that’s when Nancy saw the mark on his arm, the spider tattoo.

She knew that mark. It was the sign of the mob.

Nancy took her hand off him and her eyes widened. Jack looked down and noticed. “Oops. I really was trying to hide that. Sorry sweetheart.” Then he knocked her out with the flashlight.


When Nancy woke up, the first thing she noticed was the rope around her wrists. Jack saw she was awake and turned to her. “Well well well, she’s up.”

Nancy tried to fight the bondage, but it was too tight. Jack chuckled. “That’s not going to help you know,” he said, twirling his gun around his fingers and sitting down.

“Why are you doing this Jack? I haven’t done anything to you, I didn’t even know you before today.”

He sighed. “I’m not going to kill you Nancy. I’m killing your sister, Judy. And believe me, it’s not my choice. You seem like a nice girl, but I got debts. The mob doesn’t really like it when you break one of their member’s noses when you’re 18.”

Nancy noticed a sharp piece of wood and began rubbing the rope against it as slyly as possible. Jack continued talking.

“I’m only doing this to protect Ronny. They threatened him, and what else was I supposed to do, let him die? I couldn’t do that, you understand, right?”

Nancy glared at him. Jack sighed. “Look, I really am sorry, but you’re the only bait I got. I promise, if you don’t go to the cops after this, you’ll never see me again.”

“Jack?”

Both people turned. It was Ronny. “What the hell are you doing,” he asked.

Jack’s confidence fell. “Ronny…I-”

Ronny noticed the gun in his hands, and then Nancy.

“Jack, stop,” he said, putting his hands up. But his cousin just shook his head, the only sound was his breathing.

Nancy finally got herself free, and Jack noticed. “I’m trying to protect you Ronny,” he said. Then he raised the gun to Nancy.

“No,” Ronny yelled. He knocked the gun out of Jack’s hand, and Nancy grabbed it. Before she even knew what she was doing, she fired.

Jack fell to the ground, blood soaking through his shirt. Ronny crouched next to him.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said to Ronny. Then he turned to Nancy. “I’m sorry.” Then he was gone.


A knock on the door.

The door opened to reveal Judy (Nancy’s sister), whose eyes widened.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Nancy tilted her head. “I was just kidnapped because the mob is after you. What did you want me to do?”

“You need to go, now.”

Nancy furrowed her eyebrows. “No, we need to call the cops.”

Judy shook her head furiously. “No.” Nancy tried to grab the phone, but Judy took it.

“Hello, police? This is Judy Connor. I have the murderer of Jack in my house. Please hurry!” She then hung up.

Nancy stood there. “What did you just do?”

“Go!”


“What now,” Ronny asked as he drove faster.

Nancy looked at him. “We figure this out.”

This has been the earliest I posted a piece for these contests in a while! I genuinely like my school, but I must admit, I haven't been able to write as much because the commute is literally an hour by bus! Anyway, I hope everyone has a good day, and good luck to everyone else writing for this contest!



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9 comments
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Hello @gracepro
⚠️ Watermarked photos (as in your second one, which says Adobe Stock) are not free to use for monetary gain. Please edit your post and use an original photo, or one from a website that says the photo is free to use.
Thanks!

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You, my dear, are the queen of suspense and unexpected twists! When Jack turns out to be a member of the mob, I did not see that coming. Poor Nancy feel right into the hands of the people trying to kill her. And the uncaring Judy takes the blame for Jack's murder. Impressive!

Though your ending is open, it makes us eager to know how Nancy and Ronny will handle everything. Well done! Would you like an in-depth review of your story? Thank you for participating in the Scholar N Scribe December Invitational. !PIZZA 🙂

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Thank you so much! I would like an in depth review. I've been trying to work on my mystery throughout these years on ecency, so I'd love some feedback!

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Thank you to @litguru for already providing a comprehensive review. I love to see concise, constructive critique. 👏

Seeing as how you already got a technical review of your work Gracey, I will give you some high-level advice. It is apparent that you know how to write, in fact, I'd say you are twice the author I was at your age. With practice you will only continue to get better, at the technical aspect at least, so let's talk about some nuance and minutia.

So, minutia, let's talk about voice. Your 'voice' is constructed out of everyone you have ever read. As time goes on this voice will meld with each new style you come across. Until it finally becomes your own. To that end, I want to give some advice as it pertains to "finding one's voice", which in my opinion goes hand in hand with the story we're writing.

Litguru already spoke on this, so I'll bounce off what they said. This was a noir-style story, and while your sentence structure did adhere to that theme, your vocabulary and characters really didn't. Check out this story I wrote for a previous contest that was Noir-based. You will notice that my vocabulary and the manner the characters talk changed substantially to fit the noir style.

In no way am I saying you did something wrong, Gracey. I just wanted to sow the seed so you may groom it to your liking when you see fit. Authors rarely think about the way they present things. But it is like any other ability. Once you understand the basics and the journeyman's skills, everything slows down. When that happens, the essentials become second nature, and we can focus on more intricate, nuanced aspects of our writing.

I talked in general terms here on purpose. Feel free to pick my brain about whatever you want.

Great story, great execution, very well written. Thank you for participating!

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Thank you, and I agree. I've never really written a noir style story, though I may look into it more in the future. Thanks for the advice!

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This is a fine noir tale with style. It has the straight-forward prose associated with the genre. If there's one aspect of the story that I think could be improved is using more variation in the paragraph structure, particularly the initial sentence. This is a great example that you used:

When Nancy woke up, the first thing she noticed was the rope around her wrists.

I like the structure of this initial sentence because it doesn't start with the name of the character. The sentence could have been written as "Nancy woke up, and the first thing she noticed..." This is fine too, but if too many paragraphs start like that then it becomes too repetitive. At least that's how it sounds to my ear, other readers might have a different experience.

The two could barely see, but they turned to each other. Nancy ran to the door and tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. They were locked in.

This is another good example of a great initial sentence that then carries the action of the protagonist further into the paragraph.

There is something to be said about the uniqueness of the noir style, which can be somber and melancholic. You did a superb job of capturing that aspect of it.

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Thank you for the advice! I don't know if I've really paid attention to that, but I will be doing so from now on!

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