The Emergence Of The Wolf - Completed

3. The Police

Two police officers were looking at us when we opened the door. Well, maybe I should be relieved now that I don't have a choice but to report what happened at my place and finally get some protection. Why do I need protection? My mind was racing. Would they help?

"We are glad you are here," said Michelle.

However, the police officers didn't look very friendly, not that I had ever dealt with them before. One of them reminded me of my father. He was about fifty years old, with a head full of gray hair. The other guy was younger. He was probably an arrogant heartthrob, that sort of person who annoyed me to even be around because of his cockiness. To my relief, they mainly smelled like aftershave, donuts, and coffee.

They curiously looked at the mess in the apartment.

"What happened here? Did you, girls, fight?" the older police officer asked.

"No, we just came back and found the place like this; someone broke in," said Michelle, eyeing the hot police officers.

"Did the neighbors call you?" I pitched in.

"Well, we are here to bring Ms. Fairchild for questioning.

"Why do you need to bring me in? Can you just ask me now?"

"Everything will be explained when we get there," he replied.

Michelle was worried about me, so she asked them for their badge numbers and called the police department to verify that they were real police officers.

When we got to the police department, I was left alone in a cold room with grey walls, one desk and three chairs in it, and a large mirror on the wall. I sat down on one of the chairs. I didn't understand what they could be asking me about. They didn't know about my apartment when they sent the police for me.

I put my head down on the table for a second time today to calm down and get some rest.

I looked up, and suddenly, I was in a different room made out of shiny metal walls, floor, and ceiling. It felt like I was inside a metal box, container, or cage. There was a wolf chained in the corner of it. He was lying on the ground. He also had a metal muzzle on him. I recognized him instantly. He was one of my dreams. He looked enormous, but I had no fear.

He noticed me and carefully started to get up. He did that very slowly, and I could tell that every movement hurt him. I saw that he also had his shiny collar chained and every paw. I stepped toward him, hoping I could help him somehow, and felt immense pain going through my whole body.

I opened my eyes, and I was back in the police interrogation room. A thin woman came into the room. She was in her forties, looked a bit tired, was wearing a white blouse and dress pants. She had a faint smell of metal on her, a smell of makeup, and something else faintly familiar. She was carrying yellow and blue folders under her armpit.

"Hi, Ms. Fairchild. I am detective Gloria Stewart. Thanks for coming in to talk to me", she said.

I was looking at her. Maybe I should have refused and been on the road somewhere, going back to my parents possibly? I tried to guess what her intentions were. She was not angry nor caring, just someone doing her job in the office.

"Why did you bring me in here?" I mastered all my confidence to ask her.

"I want to ask you what you were doing on Friday night," she replied.

I felt as if I had lost all the blood on my face. My palms started to sweat. Why is she asking me about that?

"I finished my shift at the T*** store and went straight home," I replied.

"What time did your shift end?" she asked.

"It ended at 10:00 p.m., but I stayed and helped clean up until 10:30", I replied. "Then I went straight home."

She looked at me suspiciously. "Can someone collaborate on your story?"

"Many people were working with me side by side," I replied.

"What about on the way home? Did you carpool or take a bus ride with a coworker, and was anyone home with you at the time?" she asked.

Oh no, this was terrible, really awful. Should I tell her what happened to me? Instead, I got defensive and asked:

"I don't understand why I am being questioned? What is happening?".

She opened the folder on the table. Multiple pictures of two guys from that night torn to pieces and blood everywhere were spread out on the desk. I gasped.

"Why are you showing this to me? Who are those people?" my voice was shaking.

She looked at me carefully. "Have you ever met them?"

I looked back without looking away. "This looks terrifying, but I have never seen these guys," I lied. Oh no, do the police think I had something to do with their death? Do I?

“Then maybe you can tell me why this was in the deceased man's hand.” She opened the second folder, and there it was: My missing bus pass.

I was utterly shocked when I saw my bus pass in the detective’s evidence. What should I do? I thought my life flashed in front of my eyes. Will I be incriminated in the murder? I was the victim, but I didn't know what to say or do.

"I would like to see my lawyer," I finally managed to squeeze out of my mouth.

"Do you have someone, or do we need to get you one?" she asked.

“I don’t know,” I was sweating.

Something beeped on her. She looked at her phone.

“I will be back soon,” she said, and left the room.

I was left alone once more. Everything was happening so fast. Just last Friday, my life was completely ordinary. I called my parents once a week, studied at community college during the day, and worked nights in the store. I was friendly with my co-workers and fellow students. I recycled!

I never really had a boyfriend. That is definitely something weird about me, and I obviously was aware that I was kind of a loner. I looked decently cute, and I went on dates in high school, but I was not interested. I didn't feel connection or excitement over any boys, or at least nothing, as Michelle experienced, nor did books and romance movies promise me.

I deeply loved my parents and my deceased grandma, and I figured that there was enough love in my life, at least for the time being. I also loved Michelle, not in any sexual way but in the best friend's sense. Maybe someday I will have the prince coming into my life and sweeping me off my feet? That was not likely, but sometimes I fantasized about it.

I think I am allowed a phone call. Should I call my parents? They would be so worried about me if I told them any version of what was happening to me.

The door had opened, and I smelled an absolutely disgusting stench. Detective Stewart with whom I had talked earlier came in, "Here is a lawyer that agreed to take care of your case, problem. You are very lucky to have him!”

The lawyer walked in next. He was a big guy with broad shoulders, wearing a grey suit that looked like it was perfectly tailored for his body. His hair was so blond that it almost looked grey. He was clean-shaven. He had perfect features of his noble face, but he stunk, he stunk awful. He smiled, but his eyes remained cold and commanding. He held himself as if he owned this place.

He said, "Follow me if you would like to get out of here, Sabrina."

Except for the smell, I didn’t know what it was, but he immediately terrified me to my core. At that point, I was not sure if I should stay with the police, while almost accused of murder, or leave with this man.

I looked at the detective, and she said, "That's true. You are free to go, but don't leave town until the investigation is still going on".

I signed the papers she brought for me and followed the men in the suit.

I knew that he was dangerous and somehow related to the people trying to capture me in the woods. I knew perfectly clear now that the woods memories were real. It was not a dream. I had to get out!

I formed a pretty stupid and straightforward plan in my head. The moment we leave the police building, I will run, and I will not stop until I am out of his sight.

He was moving fast ahead of me and not even looking in my direction, although I felt, somehow, he was aware of every step I was taking.

I saw the door outside with a big green exit sign on the top. “This is it,” I thought, and was getting ready to run, and then I saw her.

Michele was walking right towards us. "Thanks for saving her, Mr. Jules," she said.

"Michelle, we should get going," I replied. "We would not want to hold up, Mr. Jules. He must have already spent enough of his valuable time with me."

"No worries at all," grinned Mr. Jules. "I was so happy that I could help with this problem. I will take you girl’s home. It's getting late. You must be exhausted from an insane day like that. I have a driver outside", he said, and then he looked straight into my eyes and said, "and you will come with me without hesitation and follow everything I say." A chill ran down my spine as he sounded just like the guy in the woods.

He looked at Michelle and said: “I make you so happy, and you will do what I say.”

"That would be fantastic," Michelle said, giddy. She didn't seem like herself but rather a little girl who was offered candy.

"I would like to talk to my friend in private," I said.

"Oh, you will have plenty of time in the car", he replied grimly.

Michelle smiled and clapped "to the car."

"Michelle, you are weirding me out," I said. But I followed them, still hoping somehow to get away. But I could not leave my best friend with that guy.

When we were outside, I gave Michelle a wink, I pulled her arm, and I made all sorts of signals trying to tell her that we should run, but she didn't budge and was walking down the street to the parked Mercedes.

Finally, I told her, "Do not get in the car. The guy is dangerous," but she laughed and got right in the car.

My heart dropped. I was standing there, defeated.

Mr. Jules came over to me and said: if you want your friend to live, be a good girl and get in the car right now.

I would not. I could not. He pressed the button, and the window got rolled down. He looked at Michelle and said: "Describe to me in detail the last sex you recently had."

Michele didn't blink and replied, "I was at the kitchen counter cooking breakfast, and Craig came behind me, bent me over, he took my panties down, put his finger."

"Enough," said Mr. Jules. "Now stop breathing until Sabrina gets in the car." I could see that Michelle had stopped breathing. I could see her face getting paler, but she didn't even move. I realized he had her in some sort of trance.

I opened the door as fast as I could, moved her over, and sat down.

Michelle took a deep breath and coughed. "Good girl," said Mr. Jules with an expression like I was a pet, “I see we will get along just fine.”