Novels by Stacey Carnell

The walls were turning a deep crimson , they looked to be melting. But the room felt cold , so how could the walls melt? I could see my breath as I breathed out. I felt strapped down and I couldn't move. I moved my head and looked down at my body but nothing was holding me down. I just couldn’t move. I looked around and my eyes caught a mirrored ceiling above me and I screamed , I screamed until my lungs burned. Yet the body that laid still in the reflection didn’t move. Their body wasn’t my own, it was my mothers. She stared blankly up at the mirrors not moving an inch. I glance around again and the walls aren’t melting I realise and the crimson was blood dripping down them. Suddenly I bolt up in bed sweating and panting. I panicky looked around the room and I was in my own room. The walls were a warm beige no longer crimson. I was no longer strapped down by something invisible. I was sitting up with the blankets pooled around my waist as my bare chest rises and falls trying to br

I opened the case , just like David said it landed in my inbox at 5pm sharp. I read my freelance contract first and frown at the pay for this. It was triple what I get a month for the station. No doubt David’s doing. He was dangling the carrot in front of me. He was saying “ Look what you could have “. I had also had an email from my Captain while I was out. He has asked me to transfer all work and notes on the current case I was working on to Joshua, he was in the same job as me. But I hated to say it , he wasn’t as thorough as I was. He didn’t scale every detail like I would. I had helped solve more cases than he has , yet he had been in the job a year longer than I had. I hated this , I had been working on this case for over a month. It had consumed so much of my life already and now I had to just pass it off because David had to stick his nose in my business.The case I had been doing for the station was a murder between two rival drug gangs. I was tasked to pull out all the conn

Walking down the aisle , I randomly pick up items of food without even really paying attention. My mind was once again too occupied. I wonder if people looking at me see just someone that looks like a walking zombie ? I randomly wonder. My mind was too focused on the conversation with my dad. I sometimes wonder if maybe it was him that planted in my mind that I should study for the job I have and he used my mother as his ammunition. The reason I wonder is because I don’t actually know when I decided to go down this route. Growing up I did dance , ballet , gymnastics, ballroom you name it , it was my passion. And I was invested all my childhood. I had been determined, because when I was dancing. When my body moved like it was possessed and like it knew what it was doing without me gaving to think. I felt free and alive. I was happy. I had friends , I had fun and I had a dream. I wanted to be on a stage , a grand one , one where all eyes were on me and they were mesmerized. I wanted to

My name is Elodie , I am 21 and I am the youngest forensic documentation examiner ever known in the police department I work in. My job requires my attention non-stop pretty much. When I am not working and doing something mundane like food shopping my mind will still be on the current case I was working on. I finished at the top of every class and I worked my butt off to get this job. My main job now was to prove to all the more experienced officers and detectives in my department that I actually deserve and can do this job and that my observations and notes on the case file were valid. It was only made possible that my professor wrote a recommendation for any employer to ignore my age and trust my judgment and knowledge. He stated he had never seen anyone like me before and that I suppressed people he had known in the field for many years on my skill to pick out even the smallest thing that can be a massive clue , things that go missed or ignored and seen as insignificant. It was b

An engine revs and my pulse spikes instantly , he's here. He hasn’t always made himself known. But now he was growing bolder , he was making sure I knew he was back. I slowly place my pen down from where I was hunched over my desk working on my assignment. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and a shiver runs through my body. I lick my suddenly dry lips and exhale a shaky breath. I could have moved my desk weeks ago , months ago even when I first started seeing him. At first a shadow that made me think I was seeing things then the shadow would stand longer to make sure I saw him. He would come closer to make sure his movement caught my eye. I started to thank him in my own mind for finally showing himself , at least I knew now I wasn’t crazy. No I wasn’t but I did have a stalker and I had yet to report that I had , maybe I was crazy. One day I hadn’t heard his bike but when I had looked up from my work I had seen him sitting on his bike with his helmet still on as he watched m