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‘I doubt it, it’s just a hunch really, it’s what happens when you get old!’ they laughed together, his attempts to sweet talk the information from her was working.

‘Well, if you text me the case number I will get onto it once I’m there. It’s quiet in the morning so should be clear’

‘Lillian, you are a star, I owe you’ he thanked

‘It’s no problem Nathan, fire me that text and I’ll get what I can sent over to you, I’ll ask Jack’s driver to bring it’

‘Thanks again’

‘Bye Nathan’ the call was ended. He placed his phone in his hand and began typing the details in, his fingers making mistakes as he rushed it, he back tracked and corrected them. The text was sent and he sat impatiently waiting for the reply. His fingers fiddle as he gazed at the collage of crime scene pictures, tonight was the night the Wolf would take another life. The young girl would run for her life with false hopes of freedom, the beast would give chase, arousing him as he stalked her through the trees. He will kill her under a beautiful sky, a sky she should be allowed to watch every night for the rest of her life, a sky she can show her own children one day, a sky that would be filled with the howl from her killer. He knew that if the information he requested from Lillian was that of the Wolf, he would have to make a decision. Give it to Jack and let the law take the beast in, or, give it to Richard and let him catch the beast and cause an imaginable amount of pain and suffering. Whatever he decided, one thing was certain, he would have to leave today, he would have to gather his belongings and board the next plane home. The outcome could be very messy and with Lime publicising his past, he couldn’t stay in London, he had to leave.

***

Lillian arrived at the Metropolitan Headquarters, her car parked in the usual space. She locked the driver’s door and headed for the entrance, her phone vibrated within her pocket. Her cold hands pulled it free and she fumbled with the buttons as she opened the text.

Case number: 1201247

Thank you x

She smiled, feeling important. The heating had warmed the interior of the building, the wave hit her as she entered. She sighed with relief, her skin had begun to pinch slightly with the freezing wind. The offices were quiet as usual, it was still early, she enjoyed the calm before the storm. Her bag was placed by her desk and she made her way instantly to the Archives room, hoping that there was somebody inside she could ask for help. The door was open but all lights were off. Her thin fingers located the switch and she pressed it down, the room came to life.

‘Hello?’

Silence.

‘Hello?’ she asked again, the word dragged out slightly. No answer.

She entered the room closing the door behind her. Within the Archives office were several desks used for research and case building. Upon each desk sat a large box monitor, the screens all black in sleep mode. She sat on one of the swivel chairs and nudged the mouse, the light inside the pointing aid grew brighter, the screen slowly turned blue, showing a grey box which asked for a username and password. The thing she liked most about her job was that everybody trusted each other, enough so that at most terminals sat the user’s personal username and password. She typed the information in and hoped for the best. The box showed a loading symbol, it slowed as the screen opened a new page, she was in.

The archive files were number to keep them assorted. Sometimes a word or special meaning that related to a file would open that specific folder. Now, she didn’t know of any criteria to type in, she decided to enter in the case number in the small grey bar labelled CN. The folder took several minutes to open, Lillian felt anxious as time was pressing on. The file popped up onto the screen and she selected the print option, not knowing what the contents were or how many pages it held. The printing machine began to clunk as it was awoken, the green lights blinking on the face panel. She waited, checking her watch constantly, until the pages had finished being spat out. She collected the warm pages and closed the file down upon the computer, making sure to cover her tracks. Once done, the computer was put into sleep mode and she headed for the door, the lights were deactivated and the room sat in its lonely darkness.

***

Jack’s jaw ached from the chewing. He had gnawed his way through several sticks of gum, his breath only slightly improving. His head still throbbed and the motion his mouth was making did little to ease it. The first of the early birds began to arrive. Their sleepy faces and bed heads made him feel slightly better, though he knew he was no oil painting right now. His phone began ringing upon his desk, he answered it carefully, choosing his words before muttering them.

‘Dawson’ the gruff voice greeted.

‘Jack, have you got a time that Lime is due to be going live?’ the Director asked.

‘No Sir, are you planning on stopping it?’ he hoped

‘Chance would be a fine thing. He’s gone under the radar with this one, we’re unsure of where the interview is being held, I’m just rather keen and grilling him right now, after that shambles he put on the telly last night. Right, well, if you get anything, let me know A.S.A.P!’ the call ended.

Jack felt a little weight pulled from his breaking back, at least the Doctor had messed up on live television for all to see, now Jack may be able to regain a bit of that respect that seemed to have been misplaced. He decided to make it his task for the day. Find Lime, find my retirement, and find my fucking boat!

***

Lillian sat at the edge of her chair, her eyes fixed on the open door. She waited for Malcolm, Jack’s personal driver to pass her office, the folder balancing on her knees. The minutes had passed slowly, she became restless. Twenty minutes later she spotted the man entering the building. She jumped to her feet and called on him as he passed the door.

‘Malcolm, hey Malcolm’

‘What’s up?’

‘I need you to run this to Nathan’

‘What? I’ve just got in!’

‘It’s an emergency’ she pleaded

‘Does Jack know?’

‘Of course, otherwise I wouldn’t be asking you…..would I?’ she lied.

The folder was handed over and he exited in a mood. The door slammed behind him.

***

Russell opened his eyes slowly, the dream had been welcoming. It was more of a look to the past, a slideshow of fond memories, images of his transformation. He stood, his muscles tightening in the back of his legs. He arched rearwards and stretched his arms wide, groaning slightly under the strain. He was hungry, the excitement rushed through him. He hated the slow build up to his finale, he longed for the time to pass quickly. He created a plan within his mind as he moved to the bathroom. He needed to prep all of his tools for the mission, it had to be perfect, just like the last two. He washed his face and wiped the sleep from his eyes, he grinned, flashing a vicious smile to the beast in the mirror. His tongue danced over the points of each sharpened tooth, he admired his appearance. The clothes were slipped onto his body and he moved slowly down the stairs. The large freezer was opened and he moved the bags from one side to another, searching for his decided piece of meat. He found it, the large slab of frozen protein lay inside the plastic bag. He removed it and closed the lid, trapping the freezing air inside. He placed the contents upon a plate and allowed it to start the slow defrosting process. He decided to check on his girl before venturing into the garage for another feast and fill of fresh blood.

The room was quiet, he could hear her sharp breathing as she slept in the chair. He entered, the lights still off. He moved closer to the girl, being careful not to startle her. He lowered his face to hers and felt her breath upon his cheek, he shivered. He could smell the dried blood as it plastered her body, he could smell the slow release of fear, the fear that he had placed inside her mind and heart yesterday. He licked at the dried red stuff upon her cheek, the sweet taste filled his mouth, he wiped his lips with his tongue and crept out of the den, leaving her to sleep in preparation for the night’s events.