A Little Dose Of SasuHina Love - No. 13: Death Is Not A Game

Dismembered limbs and mutilated bodies are scattered all over the premises of the Hyuuga mansion. The perpatrator, a sociopathic killer. One who hits too close to home for the crime investigator.

Connect the pieces, and create a picture - or listen close enough, and maybe, just maybe, if you can imagine it, the dead will talk.

The eyes are stark white and dotted in blood, the rolling dice of the game. The skin is as pale as a paper sheet, and no words are printed to give any clues.

Knelt down on the ground, the detective decides to stand with head bent down in shame, the cap tilted to shadow his solemn eyes - the act of backing out.

Why does it have to be my eldest son, who trifles with human lives and leaves them for dead? What is he thinking? What is he playing at?

And then, the detective shuffles out of the crime scene, shoulders slumped in defeat, lamenting his loss of the first round.

The detective's younger son tends to the only survivor of the Hyuuga family, wrapping a blanket over her trembling shoulders, leaving briefly only to return with a cup of hot tea. The girl slowly and shakily accepts the ceramic cup, lifting it to her mouth, the liquid traveling down her throat, the taste bypassing her tastebuds.

She had seen the horror, reality personifying her nightmare. A man she has never met before infiltrated her house, claiming to be an officer searching for a criminal suspected to be roaming the rich neighborhood, only for it to come true in the lying bastard.

Hinata had witnessed them fall one by one... and there was nothing she could do to help them, having been frozen in fear and terrible shock. If she hadn't called the police in the midst of the bloody chaos, she would've been like the rest of them, another corpse decorating the Victorian-styled mansion. The young, traumatized woman is eternally glad she has never laid eyes upon the killer, because he would've haunted her with his face alone for the rest of her life.

The young police officer folds his arms stiffly behind his back, eyeing the girl with sympathetic coal eyes, the embers of hatred toward his brother sizzling in his black gaze.

Sasuke promises to catch the killer (and most likely shoot him dead at first sight), and woefully waits for her to recollect the pieces to her broken heart. To think, he's not the only one who has suffered in the hands of Uchiha Itachi.

(A/N): I've been watching too much CSI and NCIS, lol, though CSI: Las Vegas is my favorite one. Grissom kicks ass! So does Nick, that guy is cool. XD I hate Sarah, though.

Thanks for the reviews, guys! :) I'm gonna be starting school soon, and I'll be suspended in writing during the weekdays. So, I'm trying to write as much as I can before summer vacation is over.

Favorite lines:

1) Connect the pieces, and create a picture - or listen close enough, and maybe, just maybe, if you can imagine it, the dead will talk.

2) The eyes are stark white and dotted in blood, the rolling dice of the game.

Share me your favs. :)