The first challenge for us campaigners is to write flash fiction starting with the phrase "the door swung shut."
The door swung open and Detective Corey Malone eased into her apartment. The reek of rotting flesh made it difficult to breathe.
Her eyes scanned for signs of blood on the walls, on the floor. They caught on a pair of feet protruding from her bedroom.
Squaring her shoulders, she inched forward.
Corey began a slow examination of the entire body. The victim lay naked, face-down, but she knew it was male: his hands were large, his waistline straight, and the angles of the shoulders square and sharp. Bruises spotted his back. The head was crushed on the right side, hunks of brain tangled in the blood-drenched hair. Her eyes searched the body, trying to piece together what seemed strange about it. Obviously, the victim sustained a series of blows to his back, shoulders and head, but even with the swelling, she noticed that there was a lack of synchrony amongst the different parts of his body. And the way he was lying -- it seemed awkward.
Corey was staring at the corpse of a teenager. A teenager that looked just like her partner’s son.
A warning. She was not doing what the killer wanted.
The front door swung shut.