Writing Prompt exercise from Vine

This story was written from a writing prompt provided by Abbi Patterson from Vine, a six second video related to Twitter. I asked for random phrases as inspiration as an exercise. Her original statement is at the end of this short piece in italics.

The gravel crunched under the heel of Daniel’s boot. He knew he shouldn’t be there. After all, the police had only just gone to the end of the driveway and they could probably hear him. He froze at the sound he just made, peering through the dense shrubbery down the dark driveway at the cruiser parked there with two patrolmen leaning against the hood. One lit a cigarette, and he held the stub of his smoke down to his side leaning forwards, looking back up the driveway. Daniel knew the officer couldn’t see him in the dense foliage, but he held his breath anyway. The officer turned back to his partner and continued chatting. He let his breath out and crept slowly out of the bushes and up to the entrance.
The yellow crime scene tape was criss-crossed over the door, and the seal of the coroner’s office still clung freshly on the jamb. He gently peeled it back, fully intending on replacing it exactly. The seal began to tear and he stopped. He couldn’t leave any sign that he had been there. A window just on the other side of the unlit stoop was open by three inches. Inching his way to it, he began to raise it little by little until there was an opening big enough for him to crawl through. The police were busy talking and laughing, their voices muted by the distance down the long drive. They didn’t hear the grunt he made as he hoisted himself through the window and into the living room of the suburban ranch.
He sort of poured himself through heavy drapes onto the floor, then went to all fours. It was even darker inside, and it took his eyes a minute to adjust down to the even less light than there was outside. His other senses took over, making up for the deficit in his sight. The air was humid and thick with a sharp tang of metal or iron coating inside his nostrils. It was blood, lots of it, and its decaying rawness reminded him of the butcher counter at the grocery store where he once shopped long ago.
He crawled forward and his palm hit something wet and slick. “Of course it is the blood.” He thought. “What did I think was going to be in here?” His eyes were now used to the lack of light, and he could see the puddles of gore reflecting back the small amount of cold moonlight drifting in through another window towards the back of the room. He moved his hands away, wiping them on his pants. He could wash them later, after he got what he needed and left this place.
Dark gray shapes of furniture was strewn all around, and he knew from the random placement and overturned pieces that this was the area where the struggle took place. There was a rack with magazines crammed back into it, as if someone had knocked it over and stuffed them back in with little care. A throw pillow rested at the edge of a pool of blood, the light chenille fabric soaking up the coagulating fluid. But on the other side of the pillow was what he was looking for- a long wooden stake, its point covered in the red plasma. He picked it up, turning it over in his hand, satisfied that he had what he need.
A strong beam of light hit him in the face like a club, shrinking his eyes into pinpoints. The policeman holding the flashlight barked at him. “What the fuck are you doing in here? Why are you holding that weapon? Put it down right now!”
Daniel saw the officer’s mouth as he belted out his demand. It was smeared with rouge from blood. Two large canine fangs stuck out of his lips, and fluid dripped out of the maw. It was open in a savage sneer, wide and terrible. Droplets and debris flew out of it as the policeman screamed out his orders.
Daniel stood his ground. He could take this one vampire cop easily with the stake in his hand. The creature was fast, but Daniel was young and fast himself. He could plunge the stake into the thing’s cold dead heart and be running out of the door before the other one could run up the driveway. Suddenly he felt the bony cold fangs of the other cop tearing into his shoulder from behind. It was then that Daniel realized he made a grave error by stalking through the shadows near the scene of the crime.

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