DRIPPING DARKNESS

Ch-3: Wolf Stuff

Sheriff stilinski had never been so busy for the last few weeks of his life.

Crimes, burglary, theft, robbery were almost like a run-of-the-mill for both Beacon Hills town and the thousands of files stacked on his office desk. His post working hours at the sheriff's station would sometimes make him feel that a heavy truck with tonnes of weight had just gone over his head slowly mangling his skull and brain.

He would seldom take an early leave from the office, going to his lonely house and thinking that how things would probably be easier if his hyperactive yet innocent, mischievous yet honest, annoying but endearing son, Stiles would've been there with him.

On holidays, he would get enlivened and feel an upsurge of energy in his body for one, and only one reason, talking to his son in a video call.

Apart from the loss he suffered after the death of his beloved wife, Claudia, life has taught him the most important lesson, that a person can never know the true value of something until it's gone.

First, his wife, then his son, he did feel really lonely sometimes when he would get stuck in nostalgia while having a drink.

He would merge himself in thinking about how joyful and full of color his life would've been if both his wife and son were there with him now. Noah would get submerged in another world, in his own world, with the two most valuable persons of his life, creating nostalgias that didn't, or couldn't happen in real life.

But, one of the subsidiary reasons that added to his loneliness was the absence of his most trusted and respected deputy, dep. Jordan Parrish. Although, he couldn't do anything against it, as Parrish had to get well soon from his high fever and sleeplessness.

Surprisingly, it wasn't Parrish himself who took the medical leave, in fact, it was the Sheriff's generosity that compelled him to take it, for the sake of his well-being.

For now, he was sitting on his chair inside his room at the sheriff's station, his face was buried under his palms, with his elbows supported on the surface of the table that had a black metal plate with his name along with his Sheriff's title which was carved in it with golden yellow.

The almost-five-year-old-tv screamed out in front of his desk...

"This is very unfortunate news for the citizens of America... that repeated reports of little children missing from their homes are being found...yes..you've heard me right..little infants are missing...now who should be accounted responsible? the government? we...normal people? or..the sheriff's department?..or is it the supernatural creatures we have all heard rumors about? America needs an answer..."

In front of him, lied the files and cases that were simply the results of the sins, mistakes, misdeeds, and all other mess that the people of the town made.

He positioned himself on the chair normally after that. The forty-seven-year-old then took a quick look at his wristwatch, which read 9.05 p.m, and sighed a burden of quick relief as he analyzed that he had only 20 mins left for work.

As soon as he got distracted, thinking about what he could watch on the TV tonight, the sound of the door opening made him look towards it.

"May I come in, sir?" the officer asked in a respectful tone.

"Yeah, come in," Stillinski replied casually.

The officer came in with a frown face and a handful of files.

He started speaking, "I think we got some major problems with this case. The criminal organization named the Black Orbs, a group of retired and corrupt military officials carrying out vigilante operations. three trials were performed for creating the perfect soldier. Their memories were flushed...One of them had his mouth stitched and shut, one of them had mutated and grew into a giant muscular person and there's no information about where they went..no data, no links, not a single clue.."

At the time when the officer was mentioning the dilemma, Stillinski was praying to god to make himself pass out from all the trunk loads of bullshit he dealt with daily. Suddenly, his question was interrupted due to a sudden ring on a phone.

He saw that the caller ID was Mellisa. Mellisa Mccall.

He recalled that the last time she called, it was because of her self-analyzed murder suspicion, which surprisingly, came to be true after a few weeks of investigation. What was it this time then?

He swiped the green receive button to the right side of the screen, enabling him to pick up the call that revealed her panic-stricken voice:

"You need to come to the hospital right now!" She yelled.

"What is it? What happened?" He queried.

"Wolf stuff." was Mellisa's plain and simple reply.

Ah, for god's sake!

The Sheriff thought to himself and cursed at almighty god due to the unlucky, unfavorable stuff that always came in his way before he would do something that would make him happy.

"On my way," he responded and cut the line before getting up from his chair in a rush while leaving the enthusiastic officer, along with his shitty case, back at his room.

The moment he grabbed his coat and was about to run out from the room, the officer enquired "What is it, sir? anything important?"

Before he could answer, the radio pinned on Sherriff's uniform spoke out "Attention all available units, This is from sector 5, there's a code 10-53, possible suspects are in a black Chevrolet Silverado. Send backup immediately."

"Possible dead body?" the young officer exclaimed, his eyes widening.

The Sheriff spoke back to the radio after nodding, "All units, I need an APB on sector 5 immediately, I repeat, APB on sector 5 immediately."

"Get all the officers and reach that location, I need to leave, it's something important," John commanded his officer keeping in mind the fact that he was abandoning his pledge as a Sheriff, and would possibly get a warning of firing him out from the job. But, that had happened multiple times with him before, he was adapted to it by then.

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