hole and pulled one door ajar, slipping into the building. The small of damp saw-dust filled his nose as he entered, he could hear the tapping of the little feet scurrying to hide. He searched for the cord that dangled from the roof, finding the knot in the end he pulled down and activated the lighting.
The hutches were stacked upon each other, the walls that ran to his left and right were hidden by the wooden cells. With three stacked on top of each other and nine running along the walls; he had enough to hold his occupants, their eyes glowing as they peered from the straw beds. He walked ahead, listening to the small animals as they darted in and out of their safe place. The tool box lay under the table at the rear, upon the self-made structure sat several pieces of plastic scattered in all directions, curled strands of black lay upon the floor. They crunched as he stepped on them. He had made his claw here…..he remembered it fondly. The large box was dragged forward and he flipped the catches open, revealing his collection of tools.
‘Where oh where are youuuuuuuu?’
His fingers searched through the vast collection as he attempted to locate his desired item.
‘Helloooooooo……I seeeeeeeee youuuuuuuu’ he whispered as the file was seen.
He removed the large metal file from the box, the tolls clanged together as he pulled it free. He gripped the wooden handle, squeezing it tight. Satisfied he turned towards the door, the tool box secure under the table. He walked past the fluffy creatures in their mixture of colours. The light was extinguished and the door pulled to, the lock snapped shut.
The mask looked back at him through the mirror. He grinned, showing his teeth; tilting his head from one side to another.
‘Are you ready to change?.........are you ready to becommmmmme?’ the reflection asked him the same question, they both nodded at the same time and he readied himself; his heart beating with hope of the results.
***
Nathan couldn’t believe what he had heard in the briefing, the news hit him hard as he starred into the face of the man he hunted. He sat upon the chair, its hard metal frame forced his back to sit straight, he leaned forward to rest upon his knees. His office had begun to appear like a serial killers wet dream, images of the victims sprawled across the walls; details of the method he uses and maps displaying the locations of the finds. He waited patiently for the results of the task he had set…..hoping his theory of the full moon was correct. He turned as the knuckles tapped his door.
‘Yeah, come in’
Jack snuck into the small room, he gazed upon the collage of evidence pinned to the walls.
‘What are they?’ his finger pointed towards the drawings that Nathan recovered from the second victims colouring table. Nathan stood as he followed Jacks finger, his eyes fell upon the desired destination.
‘I found them at the victims house, Abby’s to be precise…..they were hidden in her drawer’.
Jack moved towards them, unsure of why Nathan had taken them and why he hadn’t told him about it. He moved from one to the other, studying the story they depicted.
‘What am I supposed to be seeing here?’…….he paused as he noticed the one thing that lay upon every piece of paper. ‘Is that……
‘I believe so’
‘Why the hell didn’t you show me these before?’ his tone became slightly irate.
‘Because I wanted to be certain Jack…..they just prove several points that we know already!’
‘Yeah, well why don’t you fill me in with these points’
‘He drives a van…..and he watches the victim!’
‘What we didn’t know was the colour of the van, also the fact that he changes position to view them……shit Nathan, you could have told me about this!’
‘Sorry Jack, but you can’t rip me a new one over this….you withheld information from me also!’
‘Yes but……’ he chose not to finish the argument, his mind was tired enough already and battling with his friend would have created more damage than good.
‘Smoke?’ offered Jack, attempting to calm the situation. They moved side by side towards the exit.
‘You knew didn’t you?’ asked Nathan as he pulled a long drag from the small white stick.
‘I did, I apologise for not keeping you informed, but……well, I wanted to see your expression’.
‘Look, I also apologise for keeping the pictures from you, I just thought it was better than dumping a bunch of drawings on your lap that may have been worthless……so where do we go from here?’
‘It’s fine……we’re as bad as each other. Well, I applied for a warrant to search Mr Breen’s home…that should be in soon, I hope. We may find more information there, but I’m sending the team back to St Paul’s school. I want the teachers questioned about our fake Oliver Breen….see if they know him’. He exhaled into the wind. ‘Now we just wait, there are several pieces of information we need to receive before we can jump to the next step……let’s hope that the step is one ahead of
***
William Lime sat behind his desk, his fingers drummed against the surface. He was still frustrated over the argument between him and Nathan. He felt disgusted at the man’s actions and self-discipline. Deep in his mind he felt the urge to dive into the archives, to do a little background check on Mr Crawley. He thought through the consequences and came to realise that he would suffer no damage, no professional damage anyway. Witnessing the temper that Nathan held inside he warned himself that a beating may follow his choice of action, but a beating he could take; he even considered the trial and court hearing that he could then bring down on Nathan, the charges of Grievous Bodily Harm or even, at a push, Attempted Murder. He closed his eyes picturing the money that would flow and popularity he would receive.
He opened his eyes and fixed them to his monitor, his fingers typed uncontrollably as he searched through the history of case files and personal details. He had access, after all, he was the Psychologist assigned to the department. He watched as the rows of names were dragged up and away by the scroll bar on the left. The names were alphabetically listed, it hadn’t taken him long to find Crawley. He waited, the arrow hovered over Nathans name.
‘Jesus Christ man’ he hissed. Realising that someone had removed the information he had wanted, William stood and paced the room; his hands clenching into fists as he watched the money and publicity vanish from his mind. He knew someone had moved it, where, he was unsure…..but who, he had an idea of the
‘Oh Jack….you have been a bad boy haven’t you’.
***
His eyes began to blur as the tears accumulated from the ducts. The metal tool grinded his teeth, the milk white powder fell upon the handle. The pain seared his brain as he attempted to transform himself. He had just begun the process and the ache was becoming unbearable. Knowing that once he was complete he would have the teeth that truly identified him as the beast he longed to be. The salty water snaked down his cheeks and landed between his fingers, making his grip loose. He stopped to dry his hands. The voice within his head told him to stop, that he could not take the pain any longer. But the voice he listened too, the guest within his mind; forced him to accomplish the transformation, he would not be a wolf if his teeth remained human.
The file bounced against the inside of his mouth, his flesh was torn in several places as the dragging sound erupted. He pushed the tool deeper, the gag reflex starting within his throat. His eyes pierced into the ones looking back at him, he would not fail. He pushed and pulled the tool against his K-9 tooth, the tip became pointed as the file slowly chewed away at the surface, he wiped it clean with his tongue. He braced his frame with his spare hand