Short Story: The Real Culprit

Genre: mystery?


“It wasn’t me,” he protested.

She pointed at the glaring icing remnants around his mouth. “Then what’s that?”

“Blood. Your real culprit is over there.” He pointed to a boy with a streak of brown at the corner of his mouth and crumbs all over his clothes.

“Oh. Then, what’s with the blood?”

He shuffled under her gaze.

“I… had a messy meal?”

“What are you? A vampire?”

He choke-laughed. “Of course not. Vampires aren’t real, right?”

He smiled, showing his even canines that almost shone in the sunlight.

“Right,” she agreed.



Posted on August 11, 2017, in Short Stories and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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