Chapter 20 Those Closed Doors

The law enforcement security tape crossed the entrances. Lucky had heard more than what he wanted to about werewolves for the week and had seen just as much. But there was a job to do and everyday the law enforcement agency made it clear that humans were their thing and all of the spooky stuff: werewolves, ghosts, UFO's, etc., were his.

He broke the security tape gently, then unlocked the door. The inside reeked of blood and chemicals. Lucky knew where the stench was coming from but he lingered at Jan's desk a moment, taking in her handwriting left on various sheets of paper. Her photo, one he'd seen a thousand times of her on vacation in another state, he left it where it stood. He couldn't believe that she was gone.

He took his time at her desk, looking at the photos on the wall behind it too. Photos that showed a bright and smiling person along with him at the start of the company. She was there at the beginning of it all. A young woman who asked to work without care for what the job called for.

A tear filled his eyes. He didn't wipe it away and neither did it fall. He smiled at the good times and the bad times that they had on the job.

When no one was there to see him through another day chasing horses with tusks that grew out of their heads or for another phone call about something big and hairy in a parking lot at dawn that didn't turn out to be a bear but something more than that. And that something was what made him a busy man and Jan a busy receptionist that has been taken away far too soon as far as he was concerned. She was sweet. Wouldn't harm a fly. Trustworthy and a great employee. She knew what could happen on the job after the first day, Lucky made sure she knew. Her sitting at a desk all day was the least of her duties.

The building was quiet. All law enforcement had left. Lucky coughed at the stench of blood and chemicals used by the agency to collect samples. He went to the door and opened it slowly. Blood stained the floor.

"A man didn't do this." Lucky said aloud, stunned by the amount of blood that spattered the room. There was nothing left to look at except for blood covering the floor, walls and the ceiling.

A growl came from down the hallway.  He stepped outside of the room and peered into the darkness of the dimly lit hall that led to the storehouse that they named Dungeon.

He was familiar with the sound and glad that no one on the law enforcement team saw to it to unlock any of those doors.

The building was no longer quiet now.  The smell of blood and chemicals mixed in with the scents that he was used to. Blood usually was fresh and clean, a one time experience and mostly outside but when it was on the inside of any building the fragrance of blood was different to him. It's deep dark color always reminded him of rust and metal that was yet to rust, an odor that was clear with the presence of decomposition in it.  Inside a building, the smell of blood was just as strong as it is on the outside.

He creeped down the hallway, knowing that maybe he should have checked all of the locks first.  The government all but deputized him. Giving him the authority to hold any man, woman, and child if suspected of transformations.

He turned the corner, a short walk from where he once was and stood face to face with a wall of metal.  The building was constructed to house inmates hundreds of years ago. The law provided it to whomever would take up the cause to help with identifying cryptids, no matter the size.

The beast growled again.  Lucky was always careful to stay away from them when they weren't peaceful and he knew that this one from the hospital earlier in the week was dangerous and conscious.

"Good." Lucky said, stopping clear of the barred window on the door. "At least this counts you out." He said as a foal, waiting for a stable, neighed angrily next to the cell he was looking at.

"You're still changing full moon or not. You're a tough one." He said, turning around to walk away.

"What happened here?" Doctor Zack asked.

Lucky gasped. Startled by the interruption.

"You don't knock. Do you Professor?" Lucky asked, catching his breath.

"I was just here. Everything was fine. Jan—"

"Is dead." Lucky said, getting around the man briskly and around the corner, shutting the door to the blood spattered room as he went by.

Doctor Zack followed him. "What?" He asked, confused. "I just talked to her. She was waiting for—"

"Damien has become popular recently." Lucky said, opening the door to his office.

"Yeah. I think he works at the hospital too." Dr. Zack said, entering the office behind Lucky without shutting the door.

"He's a coroner by day. A madman by night."

"No he isn't. I've talked to him myself. He's more of a model citizen that loves photography more than anything and I'm glad to have him on our team." Lucky said, sitting at his desk.

"Lucky, I was at the search warrant processing with a cop. He's still there at the hospital.  We found Damien's belongings amongst things in the basement."

"Things?" Lucky asked.

"Try bodies, if you will." Doctor Zack cautioned.

"That doesn't make sense." Lucky said, unsure now of whom he talked to the other night.