John Doe

Four once in his life.

Click. The key spun into the misshapen lock which looked as if it was scratched to death. Inside the flat was a small one person kitchen sort of crammed into the dim courner. There was a tiny bathroom with a broken faulet dripping drops of questionable water. He had a bedroom if you counted his small frail bed which had a surely rat infested matress. He had a decently sized living room which had a small tv, a gaming console, a red couch. On this couch was Matt. Matt was laying down across it with his hand slopped across the squatting table, his red hair lay untamed and unkept. He was snoring afwully loud and had a rather obvious bite mark at his wrist.
"Matt?" John questioned. He recived a rather lazy thumbs up from the now awake Matt. He sat up an turned. He looked shocked, almost in awe.
"John," his voice purred in a rough way "who is your lady friend?"
"This is-"
"I am dective Rose here on offical police buissness," she interjected
"Who are you?"
Matt lazily got up and stretched his arms almost reaching the ceiling.
Something you should know about Matt is that he is quite tall. So tall in fact that he often hits his head on a doorframes. Another fact his he is a werewolf.
Rose instantly pulled out a tazer.
"He's a.."
"Yep," John carmly states.
"You're okay with.."
"He is" Matt purred again bitterly.
This was a common occurance whenever he intodudeced Matt to new people however a more interesting was how Miss Rose knew about supernatural. It was not common for people to instantly identity a werewolf.
"Are you--"
He was cut off from an abrupt yes.
She sighs and sits down next to where Matt had lain. Her curls becoming masses as they drapped the couch.
Matt relcutently sat next to her ,one questioning later they start talking about the case.
John was tired. He felt tired of being dragged into strange happenings simply because he was there. He went into his small squahed space.