The Werewolf [COMPLETE]

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"No one crosses the Village borders! We need to understand what's happened and what's happening before acting!"

"What more is there to understand? The book said it all! We're cursed! We're all cursed"

"No one is cursed! How ridiculous is that! Curses! Now curses!"

Their voices faded away behind my back. I was not staying there a minute more. It was useless. There was no use in talking for hours or making assumptions days long. It wouldn't change a thing. It wouldn't change the fact that someone had just died. It wouldn't change the fact that we had let someone die.

My hand grazed the silver handrail, skimming over the snow and the cold metal underneath the snow. I climbed the concrete stairs and pushed the door of the police station open. The front desk was empty, there was no officer before the old computer, tapping the report of the morning's events, there was no car key missing on the board, there was no siren blasting in the streets and there were no yellow tapes, no gloves, no notepad; but there were three policemen, there were Fisher, Nelson and Mercer sitting on couches and playing cards on the coffee table.

The grating of the door opening and closing distracted the Sheriff, he raised his head and looked up, eyeing at the entrance, eyeing at me, standing in the middle of the entrance. His gaze passed through me. He went back to his game, drew a card from the deck and threw two on the table.

He hadn't seen me.

"Sheriff." He didn't react. He didn't turn around to greet me, or to ask me what was happening, what was wrong. His chest didn't turn around. His head didn't turn around. His ears didn't even twitch.

"Sheriff." I walked up to him, slowly, counting each stride, each step.

"Sheriff. We need your help." I stopped behind him. "Please. Please Lance." He continued to play. "Help us, Lance." He continued to play. "Please." He continued to play.

He hadn't heard me.

"No. Please no. Do something. Do something! Agnes... Agnes died! And Gregory... Gregory McKenzie died too! We need your help! Please! Please!"

I grew more and more hysteric. They wouldn't stop playing cards. They wouldn't stop.

"Answer me! I'm right in front of you! Why don't you see me?! Why don't you hear me!? Answer me!"

I hurled the table, and it crashed against the wall, and it smashed against the floor, and it exploded to pieces. The cards were thrown in the air, the bloody hearts and diamonds waltzed with the black ink spades and clubs for the moment of a dance, a move, a step, and they fell, scattering everywhere on the floor, on the carpet, on the shoes of the policemen.

But they didn't react.

Their faces were blank. Their eyes were empty. They were soulless.

I backed away. I had to get out of there. I had to get out. I stumbled out, and I ran. I ran to the only place that I could think of. A place where I was seen and heard. A place where I was loved. I ran home.

I burst into my house and slammed my body against the front door, shutting the world out. I was safe. I was away from the Village Square, away from the corpses, and I was away from the police station, away from the breathing corpses. I was safe. I was with my mum, my dad and my brother. I was safe.