Porcelain

Porcelain

Stillman stood frozen in the shadows of the staircase. The moon-light shone through the crack of the ajar door. His fingers coiled around his shotgun even tighter as he stood still listening to what was happening, mere centimetres from him.

Thoughts of Lilly Rush flooded through his head. The blonde porcelain skinned girl was the only woman in the cold case department as if it had been yesterday. She was a blonde girl in a male dominated police sector in Philadelphia. He remembered when Lilly Rush first walked into his department; he took it upon himself to watch out for her well-being. He watched over her like a father would his daughter and was certain that no man would ever be good enough for her.

He had tried to protect her by forcing her to remain at the office as they followed up a lead but evidently it was just an invitation for her to get trapped in this attic with a gun trained on her head. The psychotic threat appeared in his mind's eye and the words echoed in his ears maniacally.

"If you call again, if I see a cop within a hundred yards of this house, I put a bullet in her head."

Uncontrollable anger coursed through his blood as the words played over and over in his head, taunting him. If George harmed a single hair on Lilly's head, John knew that George would not be able to harm another.

His thoughts were disrupted by Lilly's anxious voice as it quivered the words, "I'm nothing like you."

He didn't know if George was still pointing his gun at Lilly or if he was standing anywhere close to him.

Their voices escalated as his pulse banged in his ears.

"You sleep with the dead. You're already half way there. And when you kill me, even those photos you cling to will fade away, like everyone fades away for you . . .and you will be alone . . . like me."

"You're wrong! I'll never be like you."

"Wanna bet!" George seethed.

Several loud shots pierced the dark silence.

He couldn't tell whose weapon the shots barked from.

He knew that he couldn't take a chance guessing.

With the shotgun in his firm grip, he barged through the cobweb ridden door and into the moonlit attic.

He stared down the sight of the weapon and looked at where he assumed George was standing.

Cool darkness greeted him. Then he swivelled himself around cautiously to search the rest of the room. As he turned, in the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the lifeless body of George Marks lying amongst remnants of paper. There were two bullet holes in his chest and his eyes were fixed open staring at the roof.

He was dead. Lilly managed to subdue him.

"Boss?" he heard someone whimper behind him.

Stillman whirled his head around expecting Lilly to be emerging from the shadows that easily absorbed her.

She wasn't standing over him.

He strained to see anything in the dark foreboding attic.

Then, he noticed her curled up on the dust carpeted floor. Immediately, John crossed the short distance between himself and Lilly before crouching down by her.

"Lilly?" he asked concerned cupping her tear-stained face gently.

"Boss," she breathed.

"Don't worry, he'd dead. You got him."

Lilly merely nodded.

Gently, Stillman inched her over onto her back. She cringed in pain as he did so. Carefully, he checked her over to make sure that she was alright. But his eyes took in the sight on her hand in the middle of her abdomen. Crimson blood seeped through her fingers and moved down her hand as her blood stained her innocently white blouse.

Gently, Stillman lifted her hand away and exposed the gun shot wound before placing his own hand over it.

"How bad is it?" Lilly asked cringing.

Stillman couldn't speak.

Words couldn't form in his mouth.

Lilly was lying in front of him with the colour of her skin draining by the second, her blood was pouring out of her and a bullet broke her porcelain skin.

Lilly's eyes were still looking up at him waiting for an answer. John knew that she wanted the truth but he simply couldn't bring himself to say it. He wanted to protect her. He fumbled around himself and found a discarded rag. He flung it out to dispel any excess dust. Taking a deep breath, he removed his hand over her abdomen and placed the material over it where he exerted some pressure.

She instantly winced in pain.

"Lil . . . you're gonna be okay."

He looked into her eyes.

Her blue eyes which had taken on a vacant look.

Lilly simply nodded blankly.

"Lilly?"

Stillman noticed that she was struggling to breathe. She began to slowly gasp for air.

"Lilly! Look at me," he ordered.

She didn't comply.

He took the talkie that was attached to his bullet-proof shirt, "We need paramedic team up here ASAP. We have one fatality and an officer down. I repeat, officer down!"