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Vision
Vision
Vision
Ebook53 pages51 minutes

Vision

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It makes you kill and eat those around you if you take too much. Yet the street drug Vision is growing in popularity among the down and out. Detective Steven Phillips steps into each resulting crime scene that are brief windows into a personal hell. He knows he must do something. Something no one would approve of. He did it before. But he finds something far more dangerous than a drug that gives you a bad case of the munchies. A exciting prequel to the novel Shifter by John Sharp.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJohn Sharp
Release dateFeb 26, 2015
ISBN9781311830586
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    Book preview

    Vision - John Sharp

    Vision

    By John Sharp

    Copyright 2015 John Ustaszewski

    Editor Elizabeth Wiglesworth

    Smashwords Edition

    Smashwords Edition, License Notes

    Thank you for downloading the ebook. You are welcome to share it with friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to your favorite ebook retailer to discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

    TABLE OF CONTENTS

    Vision

    Preview: Shifter Book I

    Connect with John Sharp

    Vision

    The call came in around midnight and Detective Phillips instantly knew it was bad. They wouldn’t call him at that ungodly hour for anything less than a disaster. One question burned in his mind as he reached for the receiver, his hand trembling. How many bodies was it this time? A second, even grimmer question quickly followed: Could they even tell?

    Steven here, Steven Phillips said into the phone, praying it was something less apocalyptic this time. He listened in silence for some time as the man on the other line spoke, his expression growing darker with each word.

    All right, I’ll be there in twenty, he said rolling out of bed and gathering his things.

    Hastily putting on clothes from the other day he gave himself a quick cursory glance in the mirror. At thirty years old he could have passed for forty with short, black limp hair and a worn look often seen on combat veterans. His dark eyes were sunken depressions like he had died a long time ago and didn’t have the good sense to lie down. Shaving only two to three times a month, he only had to grab ragged clothes and sleep on benches to find the place he truly felt he belonged. Strangely enough, it was the job that kept him from that final edge. The knowledge that he, and only he, had the balls to do what must be done. Sighing, Steven turned away from the mirror and grabbed his keys.

    It hadn’t always been like this. He was happy once, only six months ago although it felt like several lifetimes. Sometimes he thought that had all been a dream or self-delusion to break up the nightmare of the reality he now lived in. It was bad what happened to Lily. At the time he couldn’t imagine anything worse. Then the drug vision hit the streets and every crime scene was a glimpse into hell. Heading downstairs and getting into his car, Steven wondered if he could even stomach another one so soon.

    Well, the rookie can’t, Steven thought as he pulled up to the curve near a line of police cars. He saw the rookie bent over the nearest garbage can already reduced to dry heaving. Sarah Clifford had joined the force less than a year ago and was already assigned to the vision task force. Fresh out of the academy she had a natural curiosity and permanent caffeine high walking into every case with absolute confidence.

    It’s about time she was knocked down a notch. Ever since she solved a series of unimportant but high profile robberies she was the presses golden girl. Yielding to public opinion, the captain promoted her to working with the DEA on the vision mess. The damn girl couldn’t even legally drink for another two months.

    Ignoring Sarah, Steven got out of the car and into the brisk night air, crossing the police barrier past the onlookers who were coming out like rats to a garbage buffet. It was fairly typical of all the other crime scenes so far. A low income area with a high crime rate and needle tracks on every other arm. The hotel where it occurred was run down, even by Chicago slum standards with filthy windows hiding even filthier deeds. A half lit, red neon sign bathed the ground in a weak, red glow which was further added to by the sirens of the dozen police cars in the parking lot.

    God, please don’t let it be so bad this time, Steven offered as a hopeless prayer. Deep down he already knew it was.

    Hey, Steven! Over here! A resonating voice boomed in

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