Chapter 6: "Werewolves are Real"

“You disappeared for two whole days, Vale. What kind of excuse do you have for that?” Captain Moore’s yelled across the briefing room.

I stood stiff,  clenching my hands. My mouth was dry, and the taste of suppressant pills still coated my tongue. 

“I have an explanation,” I said carefully. “But you might not believe it.”

The rest of my team looked at me; some curious, some annoyed. Marcus just looked worried.

“You know the claw mark murder case...I went undercover to follow a lead to find out who the rogue killer is,” I said. “But it turned out that he was not just a man. He was something else. He was...” I paused. Everyone leaned in anticipation. 

“He was a werewolf.”

“You’re telling me a what killed the man?” my supervisor asked, frowning like I’d just spoken in alien language.

“A werewolf,” I repeated.

At first everyone was quiet. There was total silence in the room. Then, snorts and laughter came in after.

“Seriously?” one officer muttered. “You drunk again, Vale?”

My boss leaned forward. “Detective Vale... have you been taking illegal drugs?”

“I know how it sounds. But I saw it. Teeth. Claws. Regeneration. The man wasn’t human.”

“Did you get footage? Evidence? A body?”

“No..."I admitted. “I saw him. He was eating someone alive and then someone else showed up and killed him...like tore him to pieces....then he covered it all up. There is no missing person case, no news...nothing. If I told you who it is, you would be shocked." I said confidently knowing that I had hit a jackpot by solving this mystery.

Moore raised an eyebrow. “And who exactly is ‘he’? Let's see if we'll be shocked or not.”

I opened my mouth. Then stopped. I couldn’t say Lucien Kael without sounding absolutely insane. I needed concrete proof before calling his name.  

“I’m telling the truth,” I said, lowering my voice. "He transformed, having claws, hair.....you know...like the werewolves you see on TV." 

Moore sighed, rubbing his face. “You’ve had a hard year, Vale. At this point... you don't sound like someone stable."

He sighed, then stood up. “That’s it. I’m done. You’re done. You’re being reassigned.”

"What? Reassigned?" I said, shocked.

"Effective immediately, your homicide unit is disbanded. You’ll be reassigned to misdemeanor reports...like lost dogs...stolen wallets.”

“No...please, I...”

“Or maybe neighborhood patrol and parking violations. If I see another report like this...about seeing so called werewolves, you’re out.”

"But sir..."

“Enough! You’re dismissed.”

I was angry with myself and more angry at management for disbanding my unit when I was on the right track.  I pouted and turned to leave. Everyone stared not knowing what to say, but Marcus stood up and followed behind me.

An hour later, my badge was still mine, but barely. My desk was empty. It had no murder board, no markers or red string. Just a list of minor complaints I didn’t care about.

I picked my bag from my work table, and walked out of the station without looking back. I was angrily going straight to have some alcohol. I was going to chugg down a lot of alcohol to ease out my frustration.

"Where are you going?" Marcus asked, trying to catch up with me.

We sat at a booth in a quiet bar and I didn’t say much. I just drank.

One... Two...Three shots... I didn’t even feel them.

“I’m not crazy,” I whispered after a while. “I know what I saw.”

Marcus nodded. “I believe you.”

I looked at him. “Do you really?”

“Yes.”

I smiled, soft and tired. “You’re a good liar.”

He laughed, but it was hollow. “You’re not crazy. But maybe you’ve seen something nobody else is supposed to see.”

“You know they think I’m crazy?” I said, slurring just a little. “Actually crazy...just because I told the truth.”

"Are you sure it was a werewolf?" He asked cautiously. 

"Yes! 100%." 

Marcus was sitted beside me, and was quiet at first. We were at his apartment. He insisted to come to his place instead cause he didn't want to face the embarrassment of my drunk side while outside.

“You’ve been through a lot,” he said gently.

I leaned against him. “I hate them. All of them. And that werewolf... Lucien? I hate him the most.”

“You’re sure he’s the one you saw?” Marcus asked.

“I think so... Maybe... I don’t know anymore,” I sighed. “Sometimes I feel like I’m hallucinating him...like he’s watching me.”

Marcus handed me water. “Drink this. Please.”

I took a sip. “Why are you always so nice to me?”

“Because I care about you.”

“Like... care-care?” I teased, leaning closer, swaying a little.

He chuckled. “Don’t do that. You’re drunk.”

I didn’t answer him because my eyes caught someone who looked like Lucien. Was he stalking me or just passing by?

"Lucien?” I yelled, standing up and stumbling a bit.

“Wait, what?” Marcus stood too, grabbing my arm.

“I just saw him. I swear...” I blinked, trying to clear my blurry vision. But by then the man was gone. Maybe I was crazy.

Marcus helped me out of the bar. “Come on. You need to lie down.”

The next morning came, and I woke up on soft white sheets again. I panicked immediately.

“No,” I muttered. “Not again.”

I sat up fast, my heart beating fast....I looked around. Then I saw the posters on the wall, a cracked Star Wars mug and a lamp shaped like a basketball.

"Oh Thank God...I'm not at Lucien's place."

But then my body started all over again.  My skin felt hot and my head felt light. My thighs pressed together like my body was vibrating from the inside.

No. Not again. I hadn’t taken the suppressant.

“Hey,” Marcus’s voice called from the hallway. “You up?”

I threw the blanket off, wiping sweat from my neck. He walked in, shirt loose, holding a tray. “Brought toast. You okay? You look kinda red.” 

“I’m fine,” I said too fast.

He walked over and pressed the back of his hand to my forehead. “Whoa! You’re burning up.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“You’re clearly not.”

He stood up and left to get a cold towel. When he got back, he leaned over to press it to my forehead. His face was too close to mine. I could clearly see his eyes, lips and.... my eyes traced down to the open part of his shirt. 

I looked up at him again and... I don’t know what came over me. I grabbed his face and kissed him. 

For a second, he froze.

Then he kissed me back.

His hands slid down my waist, gripping tight. My breath hitched as his fingers traced my spine, slowly unclasping my bra. His lips traveled from my mouth to my jaw.

I arched against him, panting.

Then—

“Wait,” he whispered. “Are you still drunk?”

I paused. Blinking.

Reality hit me like a truck.

I pushed him off gently, scrambling for my bag. “I—I need a minute.”

I ran into the bathroom, shut the door, and sat on the cold floor.

What the hell was I doing?

I popped two suppressants with trembling fingers, splashed water on my face, and sat in silence.

Ten minutes later, I came out.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “That was... a mistake. I was drunk.”

Marcus stood by the couch, hands in his pockets, looking sad. “It’s okay.”

“I should go.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I should.”

That evening, my phone buzzed.

Marcus.

“Hey,” he said. “I found something.”

“What?”

“One of the case leads we never finished digging into? It connects to a VIP name. Big one. He’s hosting a party this weekend.”

I sat up. “You think it links to the murders?”

“I do.”

“Then we’re crashing that party.”

I grinned for the first time in days.

Maybe I was crazy.

But I wasn’t done. Not yet.