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by N
Rated: 18+ · Chapter · Death · #2240836
Prologue in something I've been working on for almost ten years
Chief John Angers begrudgingly entered the Baldwin Peninsula Police Department’s North Precinct. Angers’s dark brown hair was almost black in most cases, and his eyes were like black beads. His cheeks were fairly high, and his jaw was angular and came around to a profound chin. His build was bigger than most, however it was all muscle. Wearing his uniform and coffee in hand, he walked up to one of his officers and put his hand on her shoulder.
“Wesker, this better be important, it’s three in the morning and I would really rather be home right now.” He said, taking his hand away and slowly walking towards the interrogation hallway.
“It’s about the vigilante sir… we got him.”
Angers stopped dead in his tracks, his heels seemingly squealed as if there was a sudden brake. Coffee almost left his mug as he turned to look at his officer. “You’re serious?” He asked.
“Yes, but he isn’t at all I expected him to be. He has bruises and scars all over his body especially around his hands, and you’ll never guess who he is either.”
“Well spill it.”
“Thomas James, sir.”
Angers’s eyes widened. “From the Mutilator case?”
The officer nodded and gestured towards the interrogation room. With the door wide open, Angers saw a completely bruised and beaten Thomas James. His hair was dark as night and was long enough to cover his dull brown eyes and gauze patched face. He was scrawny, as if he hadn’t had a good meal in a while, barely fitting well into his clothes. He wore a blinding white leather jacket, completely void of any blood let alone dirt, and underneath was a black tank top that was stained dark red. His jeans were dark blue, and his sneakers were black and white, also stained in dirt and blood.
Angers walked in front of the one sided mirror peering into the interrogation room, mouth agape. “What the hell,” He said. “He looks like he’s been jumped.”
Officer Wesker shook her head. “He said himself that these were sustained from tonight, but he hasn’t really talked about anything outside of that.” She paused before speaking again. “We haven’t interrogated him fully to get a statement yet, will you talk to him?”
He didn’t need to be asked. With no hesitation, He opened the door to the other side of the one sided mirror and walked in, his eyes fixated on Tom.
Tom recognized Chief Angers, and he looked back at him. “Chief Angers,” Tom said. “This is… a little awkward.”
Angers sat in the chair across from Tom and sighed. “Last I heard from you, you said you wanted to go to college, what happened to that?”
Tom shrugged and looked down. “I lost interest.”
“And you just became a vigilante?” Angers sighed once again and put his elbow on the table, resting his head in his palm. “Is this about what happened three years ago? With the Mutilator case?”
Tom smirked. “It isn’t always about that case.” He replied. “I’m just tired of people dying and getting hurt, that’s all.”
“Like your psychologist, Alistair Storm?”
Tom’s eyes twitched and quickly looked down, his bruised hands closing into fists. “Yeah, that was a factor…” Tom’s expression turned into something complex, pained yet angry. “But the fact is, I do enjoy doing it, some good.”
“But you’re becoming bruised and disheveled.” Angers said with urgency. “You look like you’re dying.”
Tom closed his eyes. “It doesn’t really matter, as long as I can help people like this.”
“But look at you!” Angers exclaimed, grabbing Tom’s wrist. “Your hands are bruised and bloodied! Your eyes have dark rings under them! Can you call yourself sustainable! I understand where you’re coming from but if you want to continue doing this you have to take better care of yourself.”
Tom clicked his tongue and quickly moved his hand away from Angers’s grip. “What do you suppose I do then, huh! This is the only thing I have left! The only thing I get up in the morning for! Even if I don’t make a difference in the long run, I still feel good saving people from scum!”
“You idiot, do you realize the impact you have had on this department!” Angers yelled. “Every time you saved someone you’d tell them to go to the police right? Well those who did had their perpetrators convicted, it was an eighty-two percent conviction rate, Tom. Eighty-two.” Angers looked at the mirror and smiled ever so slightly, then looked back at Tom. “The officers that arrested you tonight felt a little guilty, to be honest. You’ve been a huge help these past two and a half years, which is why I’m so frustrated seeing you like this.”
Tom put his head on the table and exhaled. “I… didn’t realize they were actually going to the police…” He muttered.
Angers took out a brochure from his uniform pocket and slid it towards Tom. Tom lifted his head and stared at the brochure for the Police Academy. “We’re giving you a verbal warning, which means no more vigilantism. Instead, I want you to clean up and apply for the Academy, I’m sure you’ll get in especially with my recommendation.”
Tom took the brochure and opened it. “You want me to be a cop?” He asked, reading the first page.
“If you’re interested.” Angers replied, leaning forward. “What do you say?”
Tom looked at the Chief, those beady eyes seemingly sparkling. Tom hesitated, but he already knew his answer.
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