Bad Vibes.

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     Over the next hour, they made sure we were who we are. They inspected our badges and my headache began when agent airhead (Berkly) had to run out to the car for his badge. At least he didn't leave it in his office. We were given a  half-hearted tour and the only thing I learned is that their hard copy files were in the basement. Same with the FBI. There are online versions as well, but there's always the chance of them being corrupted.

     As I learned more about the case, I became more uneasy and my headache worsened.  This town is hiding something. The keep whispering about something and there isn't a very big search for the 34 missing children. The other disappeared as we drove here. There have to be multiple people and some insiders involved in the string of serial kidnappings.

     The sun was down by the time we left. There was no hotel or anything, the town was so small and secluded. It was insanely out of the way with the only non-mechanized part of the US. There are no cellphone towers, the computers are way out-of-date, and I'm pretty sure there is not a single spot where WiFi is strong. The TVs are few and seem to be ancient. It's like the town is medieval with the least about of modernization as possible.

     It worries me, how the people don't want outsiders. The feeling of 'stay away' is really strong. Less for me, because of my German roots, but Berkly is shunned. Everyone here is either speaking German or has a prominent accent. We did manage to find a motel some of the residents reside in that has a spare room. Like most other agents, I always have a bag packed in case of this. And because of Berkly's forgetfulness, I have one for him as well.

     We got to the motel really early in the morning, and Berkly collapsed on one of the bed, asleep instantly. I sighed, looking around. The door is a dark oak. There is a single window next to the door with the same color wooden frame as the door. The wallpaper and curtain are a deep red, almost crimson. The carpet is a deep navy blue, as is the bedspread. There is a nightstand between the two king beds. On top of which there is a black lamp with a white shade. There is a small desk with two chairs. There's a black mini fridge, two twin dressers, and another black lamp on the table. There are a couple outlets and a clock on the nightstand. The nightstand, door, windowpane, table, chairs, dressers, and etcetera are all made of the same dark oak.

     I sighed, plugging in my phone on the nightstand, despite its apparent uselessness. I can still take photos and videos, which might prove useful because of the lack of technology in this town. I tossed my laptop on the bed. I sat down with a sigh, setting down the gun next to me on the table. I spread out the files and papers, trying to find out all I can about this case.

     After a couple hours, I sighed, taking off my glasses and rubbing my face. This case file...it's thin. I'm pretty sure there are many details missing. The fact that they would skimp out on an investigation about dozens of missing children like they don't care bothers me. What is going on in this town? I put my head down, resting my eyes to try to calm a splitting headache.

     "Sir? Special Agent Schneider?" I heard. I froze.

     "Do not touch me." I commanded, my voice tense. I had to force myself not to curse. I can't let people touch me. Something from my childhood. Why I'm jaded. Also, why no one wants to be partnered with me, and the rookie was stuck with me. He'll probably transfer out after this case.

     "I'm sorry. You just..." Berkly backed up.

     He'd already learned that if you touch me I might judo-flip you and break your hand/wrist. I've done it before. That guy straight up quit the FBI but didn't press charges, although I paid for his hospital bill. I'm not a completely bad person. I just don't like to be touched and am a black belt in everything. No, I'm not just being a cocky S.O.B. The whole 'I sent my partner to the hospital' a rumor and the upper-level agents deny it. It's why no one wants to partner with me, no matter the fact that I'm one of if not the best. When I'm touched I have panic attacks, therefore, I learned to defend myself so I avoid my inner demons. It relates to my growing up, but I have amnesia. I don't remember anything from my childhood and early teenage years. At 16, I was found in the and I enrolled to be an agent, no one knowing anything about me beforehand. Thanks to my really high IQ I passed quickly and skipped a lot of information, letting me graduate insanely early. According to the psychologist I saw after I was found, my amnesia is probably due to something traumatic and I may never remember. I can't think about it anymore, I have to focus on the case at hand, mine has gone cold.

     "Come on. There has to be a witness of children disappearing." I said, standing. I brushed the papers together, putting them in a folder.

     We made it to the office in about an hour. It's 7:30 in the morning and my hair is still wet from the quick shower I took. There's a slight chill in the air, despite it being the end of June. It makes me uneasy, especially because of the cold vibe, I'm getting from the people and the town itself. We dressed like normal people today, to help the townspeople feel better. I'm wearing black and white high-top converse, black skinny jeans, a red t-shirt, and a black hoodie. Berkly is wearing black jeans, black combat boots, a white (pretty tight) t-shirt, and a half-zipped red hoodie. His Star of David is hidden well enough under his shirt. I don't mind his religion, but for all I know this town is made of Nazis. It bugs me that the most likely way this town is run is only German, no one else. Only those that lived in the other Hamlin I'm assuming. The town of possible racist German nazis and I'm with a dark skinned Jewish partner. Great. This is going to be...extremely painful.

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