.V1LLAINISM._
𝘜 𝘕 𝘋 𝘌 𝘈 𝘋 ;;
CATSBOROUGH, 1987
Ah Catsborough, the foggy town where dreams come to die - or at least, where his had gone and turned to dust. For the local sheriff’s department, life was- is bleak, stagnant in a place that -If not for the batshit old coot that became his partner- was pretty damn stagnant itself. Like an island floating ceaselessly against the waters, with no end to the days and nights that seem a mere whisper, for as long as he’d known it, it was always Catsborough, home of the lost and land of the dead.
THE OFFICER RELEASED A HEAVY SIGH. He’d seen better days, days where his beard didn’t glint with specks of grey, where his eyes weren’t swallowed by a sea of charcoal and his body, not a ruin further crumbling with age. Times when he wasn’t wasted potential, a self-made tragedy. ‘Lacey Brewer. Age 23. Red hair, green eyes. . 5”5 and 125 lbs. Last seen wearing a fluffy pink sweater, khakis, pink socks and white shoes.’
He stared blankly at the manila folder, slender fingers clamped tightly around the stained documents, branded with the residue of bitter coffee stains and the scent of stale cigarettes. His signature, Giving Up by Sharma™.
“Lacey Brewer was- is a good student sheriff, officer”
He returned the Dean’s nod, eyes vacant and mind elsewhere, a man who was only truly ever present when called for, needed. Like a shadow, whole but not quite; words perched on the very tip of your tongue.
‘-Last seen on August 13th, 1987… 8 weeks prior.’ He cocked a brow. Anyone who wasn’t half an imbecile must’ve known that she was a goner, mangled in a ditch somewhere, half-eaten by wolves and then by maggots. It was a terrible thing to think about, but for men like him, who had ample experience leaping from tragedy to tragedy, reality comes first and hope comes second.
No for men like him, it was just another scar, another body, another loss. You could say that he’d know the face of grief anywhere, from each end of the earth to the next, from every ocean, from every dusk to every dawn, he would always know it, love it because in the end, it was him.
A parasite moulding into whatever flesh it could grasp. Responding to
Officer. Man. Pain.
“Let’s begin”
It was strange how a being of his stature was incapable of making a sound, how his footsteps didn’t pound against the polished floors, how his voice didn’t boom against the tall corridor walls was beyond anyone. Despite his ghostly presence he was a walking contradiction, half in and half out, barely a guest and yet still carrying with him an air of authority; he silently wondered, if it weren’t for the puny size of Catsborough (he was certain that everyone knew everyone), and for the size of his department, if Lacey would be any more important. If her disappearance would make an impression- if any at all. He narrowed his gaze, observed as the Dean before him took antsy strides while him and his partner followed loosely after, lackadaisical in approach. Granted, the Sheriff was always a little more scattered than him, given his age and well, the substances he couldn’t seem to keep away from. He made for an interesting partner, an interesting partner indeed.
"-While I do that, Officer Sharma here'll be more than happy to take your, uh… Statements on the, well, y'know."
He wanted to kill him. He wanted to shoot him dead right then and there, murk that hick son of a bitch in his shoes. He gritted his teeth. For the first time in the day it seemed like Officer Sharma actually had emotions, brown eyes springing wide open at the mention of his name, sole, alone like a deer caught in headlights. He shot daggers as the older, higher ranking (and thus technical boss) sauntered out of the room, a nervous and… unique looking boy following shortly after him.
He returned to face the rest of them, stiffening as they soon began to bicker between themselves, not exactly knowing what to do and more importantly, not exactly wanting to either.
Crossing his arms, the bitterness that often consumed him began to make Its return, re-settling into fine lines and large pores after the initial shock. He had half a mind to tell them to shut up, to let him do his job but somebody already did that for him. A young woman who seemed most rational in comparison to her companion Mira who- he’d been largely trying to avoid her gaze the entire time, annoying little brat that she was. And of course there was Angelina, who as always, seemed to be an instigator, much like her father. His eyes flew from person to person as they each offered their two cents, first with a dark-haired boy ho was too stubborn to lose and a skittle-haired fellow too scared to say anything with his chest. Leaving Reggie and a few other participants all jumbled up in a petty mess. Kids These days. He never liked ‘em, never knew how to talk to them in a way that wasn’t deprecating but as they say, we all have our strengths.
“how ‘bout we do our own investigation, then? Officer Sharma! Instead of harassing a few kids, why don’t you take a stab at being on the other end? I’m sure we got a few juicy questions for ‘ya, don’t we, Mira?”
And certainly, Reginald’s biggest strength was pushing his luck. The Officer quirked a brow.
“Kids? You’re all in your twenties if I remember correctly.” He was quick to retort, words agitated in his usual dry, deadpanned tone.
The man frowned, unappreciative of the pathetic attempt to reverse the roles. He was tired. It'd been a long day and he just wanted to get this over with, if only he knew what a dumpster fire of a conversation he was in for.
“If we’re asking the questions…”
And cue the longest sentence known to man. Truly, he thought he aged another decade in the time it took for the other student- Samuel to get to his point. The Officer sighed, dragging a heavy hand over his face and letting it rest for a few moments, voice muffled as he replied.
“If you ladies are done fighting we can get this over with in no time…”
“I just need you all to cooperate.”
He concluded, lowering his Hand to rest lazily within the deep-set pockets of his jacket, an item nearly as old as he was. He glazed over them once more.
“I’m surprised ya’ll are finally taking these disappearances seriously, actually doing your job right”
And there it was. The face of Justice and Morality himself, gracing them with an appearance. Officer Sharma bit back a response even lower than that, dwindling something along the lines of “I’m surprised you still have all that hair on your head” but alas, he stilled himself, unclenched the jaw that was dangerously close to snapping open and ripping them all a raw one. Didn’t anyone have manners these days? He didn’t want to pull that card but at that Moment there was only one thing crossing his mind: White people. Yet he ignored him, because he knew better, because he was older and because he wanted to finish what he was here for.
Flipping open his notepad, Sharma once and for all took command of the room, hoping that no one else would try and snatch it out from under his grasp. Again.
“Alright everyone I need dates, times and details. Anything weird, any strange behavior, any weird people. Anything to bring Ms. Brewer back.
One at a time please.”
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