Werewolf Of FeverPeak

Chapter 14 - Dark Skies and Darker Egos

The car ride through Fever Peak was steeped in an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the low hum of the engine and the faint slosh of coffee in Harris's cup. Outside, the town was alive with preparations for the annual mid-October parade that heralded the start of the *20 Days of Horror*. Plastic skeletons dangled from street lamps, cotton cobwebs draped across storefronts, and jack-o'-lanterns flickered with early morning light. Children, already in costume, darted through the streets, their laughter cutting through the cool autumn air as they chased each other with plastic swords and ghostly masks.

Fever Peak was in full swing, embracing the eerie festivities that the town had come to treasure. To everyone else, it was a time for excitement and thrills. But Aiden felt none of it. He could only scoff at the spectacle of it all. "Seriously?" Aiden muttered as they passed a group of children dressed as zombies, their parents walking nearby, bags stuffed with candy. "This whole thing is ridiculous."

Detective Harris glanced at him, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he took a casual sip of his coffee. "God, you sound like a Karen. What's the harm in a little fun?"

Aiden's eyes remained fixed on the road, the sneer never leaving his face. "I've got my reasons."

Harris chuckled, shaking his head as he gestured toward the decorations. "Yeah, yeah, you always do. But come on, it's tradition. The whole town comes together for this. People need something to look forward to, something to distract them from the mess we deal with. Lighten up."

Aiden's grip tightened on the steering wheel as they drove past the town square, where crowds were gathering to set up for the parade. The scene outside, so full of life, felt utterly alien to him, a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside his head. He had never been one for celebrations, especially not now, with a killer on the loose and the events of the previous night gnawing at him like a persistent wound.

As they neared the hospital, the festive streets of Fever Peak slowly faded into the cold, sterile atmosphere surrounding St. Mercy Hospital. The white building stood stark against a sky that had turned from sunny blue to a deep gray, the clouds thickening as if in anticipation of a coming storm.

Aiden parked the car, and they walked through the hospital's automatic doors, the familiar scent of disinfectant hitting them like a wall. The interior was a jarring contrast to the liveliness outside-quiet, sterile, and washed in harsh fluorescent light. Aiden's mind wandered as they passed bland hallways, walls adorned with worn posters advocating healthy living. They were meant to be uplifting, but in this setting, they only added to the sense of suffocation.

They arrived at Summers' room, and Harris knocked twice before pushing the door open. Detective Summers lay in bed, pale but alert. Bandages wrapped tightly around her arms, and a large bruise darkened the left side of her face. Despite her injuries, she managed a smirk as her eyes landed on Aiden. "Well, look who decided to show up," she teased, her voice raspy but laced with humor. "About time you got a haircut. And for God's sake, trim that beard. You look like a grizzly bear."

Aiden rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching, but he ignored the jab. Harris, leaning against the doorframe, nodded with exaggerated agreement. "She's not wrong, man. You're starting to look like you belong in a cabin somewhere." Before Harris could continue with his playful critique, Aiden cut him off, his tone flat. "There were more murders in Owl Creek last night. That should clear Clara."

Harris's smile faded, replaced by a skeptical frown. "Maybe, maybe not. She could still have an accomplice. Crowley's been spotted around too. Could be that they're working together."

Summers shifted uncomfortably in bed, glancing between the two men. "I agree with Aiden. Clara should be cleared if there's evidence pointing elsewhere. But..." She hesitated, casting a glance at Harris. "It wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on Crowley. Harris might have a point."

Aiden stared at her, feeling a sharp pang of disbelief. After everything that had happened, how could she still consider Harris's theory? None of them knew the truth-none of them knew that *he* was Crowley. The weight of that secret pressed heavily on his chest, but he couldn't let it slip. Not yet. "What happened to you last night, Summers?" Aiden asked, redirecting the conversation, hoping to steer it away from dangerous territory.

Summers hesitated, her fingers nervously picking at the edge of the hospital blanket. "It was..." Her voice faltered, her gaze distant for a moment. "It was Crowley. He ran me off the road."

Aiden's stomach churned, but he kept his face neutral, suppressing the surge of anger that rose within him. "I'll take over the case," he said firmly. "You're in no condition to continue."

Harris scoffed, shaking his head as he took a step forward, barely containing his laughter. "Right, because you've been handling things so well? Face it, Aiden-you're too soft on Clara. You've got an agenda, probably because her parents are dead, just like yours. But here's a newsflash: being a detective isn't about feelings. It's about having guts."

Aiden's jaw clenched at the mention of his parents, the words hitting him like a slap to the face. Without thinking, he stepped forward, getting in Harris's face, his voice low and dangerous. "Don't you *ever* talk about my parents again."

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut. The air between them crackled with unspoken threats, both men teetering on the edge of violence when the door creaked open, and a nurse entered the room. "Excuse me," she said softly, though her tone was firm. "But I'm going to have to ask one of you to leave. The patient needs rest."

Aiden took a step back, his fists still clenched at his sides. Harris stood there, smug as ever, his grin only making the situation worse. But Aiden forced himself to turn away, heading toward the door without a word. He paused briefly, his gaze meeting Summers'. There was something unspoken between them, but he couldn't stay to decipher it.

As he stepped out into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind him, Harris leaned over to Summers with a smirk. "Aiden won't give up this case. Richie should just open his checkbook and shut him up."

Summers looked away, her gaze drifting to the window. "Maybe he's right. Maybe we've all been looking in the wrong place." Outside, Aiden walked through the sterile hospital corridors, his thoughts swirling with anger, frustration, and something darker. The sky had grown even grayer, the heavy clouds now nearly black as they blotted out what little light remained. The air had turned colder, a bitter wind picking up as if the town itself could sense the storm that was coming-both outside and within Fever Peak's fractured world.