Chapter 4

Tom had been discharged from the hospital, but he still felt weak and vulnerable. He had always been the strong one, the protector, and now he was the one who needed protection. It was a humbling experience, and one that he was not entirely comfortable with.

Emily had taken a few days off work to stay with him and help him recover. She cooked him meals, brought him books to read, and kept him company. He appreciated her kindness, but he also felt guilty. He was supposed to be the one taking care of her, not the other way around.

That afternoon, Emily came into his bedroom and sat down on the edge of his bed. "Dad, there's something I need to tell you."

Tom sat up straighter, suddenly alert. "What is it?"

"It's about me," Em said. "About my past."

Tom frowned. "What about your past?"

"I...I used to hang out with a bad crowd," Emily said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was involved in some things that I'm not proud of."

Tom felt a cold dread wash over him. "What kind of things?"

"Drugs, mostly," Emily said. "I was addicted to heroin for a while."

Tom felt like he had been punched in the gut. He had suspected that she  had been going through a rough patch, but he had never imagined that it was this bad. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was ashamed," she said. "I didn't want you to think less of me."

Tom shook his head. "I could never think less of you, Em baby. I love you, no matter what."

Tears welled up in Emily’s eyes. "I'm sorry, Dad. I'm so sorry."

Tom reached out and took her hand. "It's okay, my love. We all make mistakes. The important thing is that you're here now, and you're trying to do the right thing."

She  squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Dad."

Tom sighed. "We'll get through this, Em, Together."

She    nodded, and they sat in silence for a few moments, lost in their own thoughts.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

Tom tensed. He wasn't expecting any visitors. "Who is it?"

"It's Detective Martinez," a voice said from the other side of the door. "Can I come in?"

Tom exchanged a worried look with his daughter."Sure."

The door opened, and Martinez walked in. He looked around the room, his eyes taking in the small details. "How are you feeling, Sheriff?"

"Better," Tom said, his voice gruff. "What brings you here?"

Martinez cleared his throat. "I'm here to talk to you about the werewolf case."

Tom felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. "What about it?"

Martinez hesitated. "We've...we've made some progress."

Tom sat up straighter. "What kind of progress?"

"We found something," Martinez said. "A clue."

"What kind of clue?" Tom asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

Martinez looked at him gravely. "A body."

Tom felt like he had been hit with a sledgehammer. "A body? Whose body?"

"We're not sure," Martinez said. "But it's...it's not pretty."

Tom felt sick. "Where was it found?"

"In the woods, a few miles from here," Martinez said. "It looks like it was killed by the werewolf."

Tom took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "What do you need me to do?"

"We need you to come with us to the crime scene," Martinez said. "To see if there's anything you can remember or anything that might help us catch this werewolf."

Tom nodded, and the three of them made their way out of Tom’s apartment and to the park where he had been attacked. As they walked, Tom couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over him. The memories of the attack were still fresh in his mind, and he couldn't shake the feeling that the werewolf was still out there, watching him.

When they arrived at the crime scene, Tom was immediately struck by the eerie silence that surrounded them. The park was normally bustling with activity, but now it was eerily quiet. The trees swayed in the wind, casting strange shadows on the ground.

Martinez led Tom to the spot where he had been attacked, and Tom's heart rate spiked as he saw the blood stains on the ground. The memories of the attack flooded back to him, and he had to take a deep breath to steady himself.

"Take your time, Tom," Martinez said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let us know if you remember anything."

Tom nodded, taking a step forward to get a closer look at the blood stains. Suddenly, a flash of memory hit him. He saw the werewolf, its eyes glowing in the moonlight, and he could smell the foul stench of its breath.

"Wait," Tom said, holding up a hand. "I remember something."

Martinez and Emily turned to him, their eyes wide with anticipation.

"I remember the werewolf's eyes," Tom said. "They were glowing, almost like they were on fire."

Martinez scribbled something down in his notebook. "That's good, Tom. Anything else?"

Tom concentrated, trying to remember anything else that might be useful. And then he remembered the pendant that the werewolf had been wearing around its neck.

"It was wearing a pendant," Tom said. "It was silver, with some kind of symbol on it."

Martinez's eyes lit up. "That's great, Tom. That's the kind of information that can really help us catch this thing."

As they made their way back to the car, Tom couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. He looked around, but there was no one in sight. But he knew that the werewolf was out there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for its next victim.

Back at the station, Martinez and Jane went to work, trying to piece together the clues that Tom had given them. They pulled up records of all the silver pendants in the area, but so far, they hadn't found anything that matched the symbol that Tom had described.

Days turned into weeks, and the case seemed to be going nowhere. Tom grew increasingly frustrated, feeling like they were no closer to catching the werewolf than they had been when he had first been attacked.

And then, one night, Tom had a dream. He was walking through the park, and he could hear the werewolf's footsteps behind him. He turned around, and the werewolf was there, its eyes glowing in the moonlight. But this time, there was something different about it. It looked...sad.

Tom woke up with a start, his heart racing. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something important about that dream, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

The next day, Tom went to see Martinez and Jane at the station.

"I had a dream last night," he said. "It was about the werewolf."

Martinez raised an eyebrow. "Okay, what happened?"

"It was...different," Tom said, struggling to put his thoughts into words. "The werewolf looked...sad."

Jane’s eyes widened. "What if...what if it's not just a monster? What if there's more to it?"

Martinez raised an eyebrow. "What are you suggesting?"

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head. "But...what if the werewolf is someone we know? Someone we never suspected?"

Tom frowned. "That's a possibility. We need to start looking into the backgrounds of all the victims. Maybe there's a connection we've missed."

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