A Taste of Suspense

So, I totally spaced on posting today. I had it in my mind this morning to do so, but got lost in my edits. I went on a editing spree today--46 pages so far, may do more later tonight. We'll see how things go.

Anyway, so I thought I'd give you a taste of one of my suspense scenes, or well, part of it. Brief background: Graham and Ninevah have just arrived at Pastor Dan's house. The house is dark even though both Pastor Dan and Miralee's cars are there. Ready? And...go!


“That’s odd,” Graham said, shutting off the headlights.

“What?”

“It’s only,” he glanced at the clock, “8:27, and the house is dark.”

Ninevah swung her legs out of the car. With a glance over her shoulder, she shrugged. “They’re probably just watching TV in the den. We wouldn’t see the light from here.”

“Yeah, the den.” His heart slowed to listen for the slightest sound as they climbed the steps. He turned the knob and eased the front door open. There was nothing. Silence. Darkness. He put an arm out to keep Ninevah behind him as he stuck his head inside.

She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.

Ignoring her, he pulled his gun from the holster at his side. Quiet as he could, he cocked the hammer.

Ninevah’s eyes widened, her jaw dropped. “What are you doing?” she mouthed.

He shook his head and motioned again for her to stay put. He hoped his stern glare told her he was serious this time. Something wasn’t right. Tension oozed from the house.

He started with the den, straight back behind the stairs. With his gun pointed down, he kept to the wall and edged down the hall. He listened for a moment. No sounds. He stuck his head around the corner. It was dark in the room, but the glow of a streetlamp gave off enough light for him to see that the room was empty.

He turned around and moved back to the living room. Ninevah gave him a questioning look as he stole past the front door, but he held a hand to his lips. In the living room, the ticking of the grandfather clock unraveled the last bit of peace of mind he possessed. He swallowed hard and wiped the sweat from his brow.

A loud crash from the room beyond made him jump.

“Graham, are you okay?” Ninevah called from the porch, but he didn’t respond.

He put his gun out before him again and rushed through the entry. Nothing. No one was there. He eased the gun down and searched the kitchen for the source of the noise. Ninevah’s footsteps reached his ears. He turned to order her back to the front porch when he noticed the back door was open.

The screen door creaked on its hinges, swinging with the wind.

“I heard a cra—”

Graham waved for her to be quiet. Through the door, he could see the backyard. The trees tossed to and fro by the winds of an oncoming storm. He aimed his gun again and took two steps toward the back deck. That’s when he saw it.

A small pool of dark crimson caught his eye. His lungs froze.

He took another step. Blood pooled under a hand.

Another step. His heart thundered in his ears.

Another step.

Miralee lay on the wooden floor.


Okay, back to reality. What did you think? After some advice from a friend, I fleshed out the scene a bit.