𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐤|| 𝗧𝘆𝗹𝗲𝗿 𝗚𝗮𝗹𝗽𝗶𝗻'𝘀 𝗧𝘄𝗶𝗻 𝘅 𝗬/𝗻 𝗟/𝗻

𝟙𝟟.

"So he did all this because of a meaningless drawing?!"

Rather disappointed to hear the rest of the story, Atlas sensed my frustration. "Well, I wouldn't call it meaningless, per se... I mean, Rowan, no matter how psychotic, was a seer after all." He shrugs. "And if it was his mother who predicted this, then it might actually come true." He adds.

"She was a highly qualified seer. One of the best in the world." He informs. "It did ultimately result in her killing herself due to the toll it took on her mental health. So I guess that could also be why Rowan was so fucked up. Death can be tough." He justifies.

Yeah, I may know a thing or two about that...

"However, when Wednesday interrogated him one last time before Thornhill dropped him off, he seemed completely clueless about everything." Atlas sighs. "And she didn't even bother following him to the station?" I ask, a little surprised considering that it's definitely something she would do.

"She didn't. Thing did." He replies. "Thing is her, uh... Pet hand." He mumbles awkwardly. "Oh, I know Thing. We hang out sometimes." I answer, a little concerned for myself. "You befriended a hand?" He raises his brow, amused.

"Hey- He gives excellent manis." I defend, showing him my hands. "Not to mention the AMAZING music taste we both share." I add, missing the hand already. "He's also my therapist at this point." I list all the things we've done together.

"Oh my god, my best friend is a hand-" I realize, freaking out a little, making him laugh.

"Don't sweat it. I usually go for quality over quantity as well." He comforts me, making me feel a little less awkward now. "Wait, so about the monster... You saw it too, right?" I start. "A couple of times, yes." He replies. "Did you find any like, familiarities?" I ask.

"Did it remind you of someone in particular when you saw it? A classmate, a friend... A stranger you must've bumped into." I list. "I don't observe my classmates, I don't make friends easily, and the only stranger I've ever bumped into is you and that old, hairy Mayor dude." He scoffs.

Letting out a sigh, I roll my eyes, recalling how private this guy could be at times.

"Although when I looked into his eyes the other night... I sensed his confusion." He says after a moment of silence. "I don't think he knew what he was doing." He adds, making me look at him weirdly. "What do you mean? How could it NOT know it was killing people?" I ask.

"I don't know." He sighs. "I've just always been good at reading people, animals... creatures, like that." He adds. "It's a basic primal instinct, I believe. Something all werewolves are gifted with." He explains. "Although in my case, due to special circumstances, that sense is slightly more heightened."

Special circumstances? What's that supposed to mean? But before I could ask him to elaborate, wondering if I'd be crossing any boundaries, he suddenly pulls me behind a tree, his hand over my mouth. 'Do you get deja vu?'

"Elvis is here..." He whispers. "Who's Elvis?" I whisper back, swatting his hand off. "My dog." He replies. "You have a dog?" I ask. "The sheriff's dog." He quickly corrects. "I used to play with him all the time when I was younger." He sighs.

Makes sense, I used to call my neighbor's fish my fish back in y/o/p before it died due to constipation or something. Flippity Floppity Fishy... Thou shalt be missed. And no, it wasn't me who kept the name. Although it is better than Lord Fransisco, the only other alternative.

Inching back as we heard a bark from afar, I knew that the dog would instantly recognize the boy, leading him into more trouble, so we had to leave. However, I nearly passed out when I felt my back collide with someone. Someone NOT Atlas, because he was right next to me.