Writing Challenge #3

Today we are focusing on Random Generators. There is a wonderful site called Springhole.net and they have all kinds of Random Generators for whatever situation. And today I explored The Random Backstory Idea Generator. So naturally the options that come up are going to be different for everyone. You can try this yourself (I provided the link) or you can pick the option I chose or from one of the options that came up for me.

I picked the story of the bored judge. The other prompts seemed to me more fantasy based or horror based and those aren't the types of things that I normally write. Maybe I should have picked one of those and tried to break out of my comfort zone but, I preferred the other option. Also once I read it, I got an idea so I ran with it.

Eric Lincoln, Judge Eric Lincoln was bored with his day to day life. The justice system that he had dedicated his life to was becoming more and more corrupt by the day. Though he was a judge, there really wasn’t much he could do about it. His hands were tied. He wasn’t able to make laws, he rarely actually got to give a verdict on real cases anymore. It was jury trials now and sometimes they just got it wrong. And that was one of the flaws the system had. A guilty man, a very bad man that clearly committed the crime could walk away scot free if 13 people that had no judicial experience whatsoever decided they liked his look, his style, hell even his smile. He was sick of it.

As he watched the house of one of his more recent cases. He wondered how on earth anyone let alone 13 people had thought that John Dugard had been innocent in the killing of his wife and their unborn child. It was just the latest example of the justice system failing the public. As he checked the barrel of his revolver, he made sure to look it over well before giving the barrel a spin and pushing it back into the body of the gun. It’s showtime.

James Devine was trying hard not to vomit as we examined the charred remains of what had been Abraham Corden. The smell of burning human flesh was still fresh in the air and it was really the only thing that overpowered the smell of gasoline. The poor fucker had been doused in the stuff before set a blaze. It gave a whole new meaning to the human torch. How convenient. As Detective Devine looked over the crime scene it didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure out the killer had been waiting for him to pull into the gas station to kill him as painfully as he could think of.

He walked over to his partner and eyed the large scorched area of the gas station. Mr. Corden had gotten a good twenty feet away from where someone had lit him on fire before succumbing. He hadn’t even made it off the gas station’s properly. It was amazing the whole place hadn’t gone up in smoke. The charred line moving away from where it had been set showed the killer was smart. It gave him time and distance to light the gasoline ablaze and get away.

The two partners stood in silence as the people around them went about their jobs. The reporters were trying to all get the best photos they could and a comment from any cop stupid enough to give them even the slightest of details. Luckily the men they had guarding the perimeter all knew better. Vipers.

“Someone really didn’t like our vic,” Martin O'Reilly mused as they stood there waiting for the Medical Examiner to show up. “I talked to the owner of the gas station and the kid working last night. They both had nothing. Kid said he was cleaning the bathroom when it happened he only came running because of the screaming and by that time Corden was already on the ground. Besides that he said it was too dark to make anything else out. Owner says their cameras haven’t been working for years.”

“How convenient.”

“You say that eh,” his partner smiled as he turned to see Devine’s reaction. “The owner was pretty sure our dead guy is the one that shot his cameras out two years ago when he robbed his son and another employee at gunpoint. Son made it out, the other employee died from a gunshot wound to the abdomen.”

This did indeed pique his interest. It was like karma had come back and taken a bite.

As Judge Lincoln watched the news that night he didn’t smile, he couldn’t even feel joy. The young detective vowed that he would catch the person that had done it, but he doubt that very much. As he fed a file to the shredder, he knew that he had been careful and soon this case would turn into a cold case. Just like the one for Ayann Patel. Anyone who had followed the case of the young gas station worker shot in a robbery knew who his killer was. And yet, thanks to a hung jury, Abraham Corden had walked out of his courtroom a free man. With no confidence that the verdict would change, the District Attorney hadn’t retried the case.

As he watched the news continue to another story, they made no mention of finding the body he had left in Toronto last week. He had to do a little travelling to get justice for Mrs. Dugard and her baby, but it had been worth it. The only problem was, once the body of John Dugard was found, eyes were going to start to turn to him. People defendants in his courtroom had been taken out by what would probably be described as a vigilante. That wasn’t a coincidence.

And so he would have to take a break again. Another year, maybe two and he would be able to start up again. The world would forget about the likes of two probable murderers and move on with the next tragedy that came to their community. That’s exactly what had happened 18 months ago when he had taken a trip to a small Zoo two cities over. Pour Leonard Cook, a new man working for the local zoo, had met his end by “accidently” falling into a habitat full of panthers. By the time the judge left that night, the smell of blood was in the air and had stained most of the grass in the enclosure and had discoloured the cat’s coat. It had been a horrible tragedy all chalked up to a terrible accident or possibly suicide. The judge couldn’t remember which they had decided to go with in the end. Either way, he knew his work would need to be put on pause for now.