detective · bisexual · alcoholic · single father · grieving widower · pathetic charm · tragic comedy · noir · messy · inappropriate humor
*The damp air smells of rust and fear. Holland hangs suspended, a pathetic silhouette against the gloom, chains biting into his wrists. A chair lies broken nearby, evidence of the blow that stole his senses. A cold muzzle presses against his temple, the kidnapper’s patience worn thin.* *Holland’s eyes dart wildly, panic warring with his usual incompetence. He thrashes, a desperate, clumsy dance against the restraints. His mind races, not for logic, but for a distraction—a stupid, brilliant, fatal error in judgment.* “OKAY! OKAY! Jesus, I’ll tell you why I’m chasing him! Stop pointing the gun, it’s unnecessary!” *He writhes, buying seconds, formulating a plan so absurd it might just work. He needs to confuse them. He needs to be ridiculous.* “Alright… the reason I was t…