After a week of investigation the case was all but forgotten, the evidence lost somewhere in the...

After a week of investigation the case was all but forgotten, the evidence lost somewhere in the evidence room. The public and the media seemed only relieved that the drug lord wasn’t around anymore but unconcerned about the possibility that whoever did it wanted to wipe out the competition or start a drug war. Immediate danger was all they ever feared. Mortals only ever cared about the now because that’s all they ever really had. A quick fix was what they wanted so that they could return to their parties and frivolous spending and oblivious laughter. Sure, Dane enjoyed a good time as well –a hell of a good time- but he’d always been eager to eliminate the danger thoroughly so that he didn’t have to turn back to the same routine every week. Sometimes he wondered why he donated so much of his immortal life to protect the mortals who only lived to be about eighty years old though so many waste it with drug addictions and STDs. He sighed. It was because that was the beauty of mortality; the now was so much more forgiving than the then. They live passionately in everything they do.

Dane, however, had only one passion, and that was to make sure they could live as passionately as they could while they were here. And his means of doing so was through the police force, as infuriatingly futile as it was. Inevitably, his mind wandered back to the mysterious female he encountered over a week ago. It was hard to keep his thoughts far away from her for any prolonged period of time, and admittedly, he thought of her every minute of every day spent without her. Focusing on the petty cases that needed his attention was a difficult task when all he could hear in his mind was the sound of her breathy moans rising to animalistic shrieks of passion, but not from their erotic session in the club, from the wild dreams that left him sweating every night that week. Dane was growing impatient and short-tempered which was all too easily noticed by Will. He would often receive a raised eyebrow or a thoughtful grunt from his partner, but never a verbal question of sanity.

They had been partners for almost two years now and during the whole time Will just seemed to be quiet and watchful for the most part when he wasn’t light-hearted and playful. As contradictory as it seemed, Will just managed to be both. The old man could always tell the difference between a grin and a half-smirk with Dane, and now as he sat at the desk beside him, Will cleared his throat to imply the question "What’s going on, kid?" Dane sighed with frustration.

"I met someone," he said in a small utterance.

"Really, and she’s got you this worked up?" Will responded. He looked pointedly at Dane’s fidgeting hands spinning a pen endlessly between restless fingers, briefly pausing every ten seconds to click the object a dozen times before repeating the action. This on top of a jittering left leg that just couldn’t stay still.

"I’m a little worried you’ll jump out the window to fly to her, kid." A hearty laugh exploded from his chest, which startled Dane a bit, causing him to jump a bit and sent the pen flying straight up in a series of somersaults just to be caught in a powerful fist. The chief, Adrian Bolton, stood beside Dane’s desk twirling the writing tool in his hand in the same fashion as the young detective.

"What seems to be the uproar, gentlemen?" asked Chief Bolton. Will’s laughter subdued but his amusement stayed present, however, Dane grew still and did his best to be submerged in the stack of files that he’d been shirking for the past hour. The chief kept his gaze on the pen in his hand and waited for a response. Finally, Will answered, "Dane here met someone, and I’ve got to say, she must be something to make him sweat like a sinner in church!" He bellowed again. The entire precinct stopped to gaze in their direction now. Dane sunk his head low and cursed quietly to himself.

"Quiet, old man!" he hissed. This made the man chuckle even more, but at least the harsh bellowing had ceased. Chief Bolton remained immune to the humor in Dane’s schoolboy crush.

"Well Dane if you’re through fantasizing about your new playmate, I’d like to talk to you in my office about a job opportunity." Dane perked up curiously.

"What kind of opportunity?" Adrian smiled. That smile always made Dane feel a few degrees colder than usual.

"One that we hope will allow you to explore new branches of justice and further your knowledge of the world around you."

"We?" Dane questioned.

"On behalf of myself and the group of other young men selected."

"So I guess I’ll just sit here and staple shit together then," chimed in Will. Dane smirked and rose from his seat to follow Adrian into his office. Chief Bolton closed the door behind him and took a seat behind the generic wood desk decorated with nothing but a desktop computer and a placard that read "Chief Adrian Bolton" in all capitalized letters. Dane sat across from him and tried not to acknowledge the fact that there was nothing personal about this room whatsoever. There were no pictures of family members, pets, or even international destinations to be explored after retiring. It wouldn’t have been so bothersome if the man had just transferred here but he’d been here at least five years. Will wrote him off to be a very private man, but Dane just thought it was creepy.

"Dane Argent," he started, "you’re our youngest, most dedicated detective who I believe would be perfect for this organization. With the proper training, you could even be your top man." Dane sat looking a bit dumbfounded before he gathered his wits.

"So what do you guys do at this organization?" he asked.

"We focus on the betterment of society in both the civilian and political circles by eradicating the dangers that lurk behind the façade of casual mortality." Dane was not fazed and could perceive clearly that he was talking about killing beings of the lore; Creatures that lived among the humans to live out their lives without the scrutiny and fear of those who simply did not understand. He knew that some were dangerous and got their kicks out of the suffering of weaker beings, but those were few and far between that there was no need for heavy forces. However, the number of lore creatures living in Cinder City was growing every year and from what Adrian Bolton was implementing, this organization was looking to exterminate every last one of them. Even himself if they ever found out that he was of the lore, but even he couldn’t figure out what he was, or find any creature like him. Even so, he didn’t want anything to do with this eradication project and wondered what kind of history Adrian had with the lore.

Without skipping a beat, Dane responded, "No, thanks." Adrian managed to hide his disappointment well but a muscle in his jaw ticked slightly in response.

"You haven’t even asked why this organization exists or why I’m asking you to join it," he said calmly, but clearly irritated. Dane raised a brow and sat back in his seat, beckoning his boss to continue. Adrian eyed him for a moment and started again, "Two years ago, a case opened up about a little girl who was kidnapped on her way home from school. The girl, Emily Tyson, was only six years old and had dreams of becoming a ballerina. Police searched for days for little Emily and they finally found her cold and starving in the subway restrooms. She was lost in the subway tunnels and eventually found her way back to the surface. "

"During her days in the tunnels, her kidnapper abandoned her and left her in the tunnels to be sacrificed to creatures that fed on the flesh of humans. She escaped from them and was returned to her worrisome parents in the upper-middle class. Within a day of her homecoming, she brutally attacked her parents and ate her father alive. She had already eaten the entire lower half and the arms of her mother’s live body when the police raided the house. The men opened fire but they were frozen where they stood and were slowly consumed one by one, leaving her mother who bled to death in Cinder City General Hospital. Wendigos; they always start with the hands."

Dane looked nauseously at his own hands. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because the people of Cinder City are not safe, nor will they ever be until every last freak of nature is destroyed. There was no one there with the proper training to shoot down a starved wendigo before it killed its parents and men with families. This city needs someone who has the guts to pull the trigger for the sake of those unable to defend themselves. Now, I know this may be a lot to take in –many people can’t handle the idea that there are more dangerous things out there than the perverted, psychotic ice cream man selling rohypnol flavored ice cream to their kids- but you’re a strong young man who I know can rise up to the occasion to make a difference in the lives of the innocent. Think about it, kid. This city needs you." With that, the chief swiveled his chair around to face the window, leaving the conversation for Dane to exit silently. As he reached the door, Adrian quickly added, "Be sure not to let anyone know of the conversation we had here, and close the door on your way out."

Dane did as instructed and continued on silently.

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