James Maddison had been an ill mannered, hard nose before he took up his badge, and having the badge had done nothing for his personality. The only thing that had changed in the five years he had spent on the force was that he now became furry at least once a month. This change had come after he had responded to an ill fated car wreck in the middle of an Oklahoma spring time torrential downpour in the early morning hours. The call came over the radio just after 2 a.m. requesting first responders out to a narrow dirt road where a Cadillac had supposedly ran head on into an escaped calf.

James was the first to arrive and had immediately stepped out of his car, sinking ankle deep into the mud, to check on the driver. The rain was falling in sheets around him as he tried to look into the driver side window. The lack of the alleged calf that had caused the wreck didn't hit him until he saw the mangled form of a lycanthrope behind him in the reflection on the car window just moments before it mauled him. It had taken them eight hours of surgery, countless stitches and 10 bags of blood to stabilize him. After which he spent nearly a two months recovering in the hospital and another year in physical therapy. The rogue lycanthrope however, was never identified, at least to the public's knowledge, despite taking 3 shots point blank from James’ side arm.

Now James sat across from me on the other side of the desk wearing the typical black Hellen city police uniform, scars peeking out from his uniform, with a soured expression. His short black hair was slicked back showing his strong jaw and high cheekbones that looked like an expert had carved them from stone and slipped the sharp cold features beneath sun worn leather. He had always looked like he was one breath away from throwing something even before he became lunarly challenged, it wasn't particularly the expression but rather something the shone behind his eyes. Then again, it was a commonality amongst all of the police officers of Hellen. Even so, I still held myself loosely trying to avoid potentially appearing aggressive. Simply put, he was an asshole, one with enough strength to break my neck before I could even take a breath to call for help if the desire to do so struck him. It was definitely not a situation that I had been in before. At least not to the best of my knowledge.

After the passage of Senate Bill 7893XX, commonly referred to as "The Inclusive Citizens Act", the United States went from avidly denying the existence of the preternatural community and silently caging or eliminating them to changing all federal paperwork. With one massive 284 page bill the government gave all preternatural citizens a classification in legal documents. Shifters, lycanthropes, animators, witches, psychics, vampires and countless others, now had legal documentation. It forced all states to legalize marriage and adoption to both the preternatural community members and LGBT community, regardless of race, gender or classification and protected them from discrimination, however some states were more lax than others on its enforcement. While others still had what were essentially vermin laws still on the books.

We also went from having a strict binary gender system to including nonbinary genders, transgendered designations and genderfluid as actual legal genders after a particularly determined lobbyist sent by the fair folk visited the white house. The current President may not be much better than the orange Cheeto that spouted hateful rhetoric, but he had made a mostly positive change since taking office.

For those who were in the preternatural community there were certain laws that only applied to them. Some were reasonable while others, such as the requirement for all preternatural citizens under the age of 23 needing to attend a minimum of 40 hours of class time a year to ensure that they didn't 'fail to properly assimilate' or something along that line created an outcry amongst the citizens affected.

Legislators claim its to help them gain control of their abilities and seamlessly integrate into society, but often times the classes were only available in large metropolitan areas and small rural towns like those in the county of Neakita saw their citizens travel as much as five hours one way to attend the classes which usually weren't on consecutive days, meaning that they either had to shell out for a hotel or travel back and forth to meet their required time on top of missing school or work.

There was also a three strike rule. Commit three violent crimes of any sort and get convicted of them and you faced a hangman. The federal government had actually brought back hanging as a death penalty. It wasn't solely intended for the preternatural community, but no one outside of the community had been sentenced to it. Those who hanging would not 'euthanize' were pumped full of chemicals and had their hearts surgically removed before being burned.

We were the first to acknowledge the preternatural community legally. The filings for all the registrations and classes created enormous amounts of revenue for the states, but it created hell for the census bureau and immigration officials. lines stretched for miles at the Mexican and Canadian borders and at least 20 planes were sent back to their originating countries full of people trying to immigrate, but there were stringent qualifications that had been set in place for someone of the preternatural community to enter the country much less even attempt to obtain citizenship. Any who were lucky enough to be considered for the application in the initial first wave of immigrants were still sitting in camps trying to finish up the ‘re-education’ that they were required to go through.

Among the requirements, they had to demonstrate a clear and defined ability to speak and read English, they had to have a work related skill that would ensure that they could get a job and be able to toss down two thousand dollars cash for the application. Per person. Children were not exempt from anything other than the work related skills unless they were not of speaking age at the time of application.

There were stories that circulated that the conditions of these camps were strikingly similar to those that were liberated in Germany during the second world war. Barbed wire, threadbare clothing, meager rations, abuse.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

James cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, crossing his arms. I had been staring at his scars without realizing it. I leaned forward, placing my hands on my desk and opened my mouth to apologize, but he shook his head in a quick jerking movement before speaking." I have some dirt for you. It didn't come for me, but it's yours if you want it." He said quietly.

I blinked for a moment and considered looking for a hidden camera. Hellen police officers weren't known for their giving natures. In fact their chief had specifically forbade them from speaking with the media even in their off hours. Not even a cordial 'Hello' or you risked your job. I stared at him for a long moment, his eyes the color of old whiskey as the sun shone through a glass on a warm summer's day, he didn't blink as he met my gaze. He must be serious. Shit.

" What have you got." I said quietly as I leaned further forward.

" Troy Wann, the district Preternatural Investigator from the FBI got canned just before dawn. Possibly facing charges. " His voice was low and his eyes watched me carefully.

" No shit? What for?" I ask, reaching for a notebook.

"I'm anonymous?" He asked, watching my movements, his brows furrowing.

"Absolutely. I'll just pen you in as a concerned citizen." I said, pen hovering over my notepad.

Maddison stared at me a moment before nodding and leaning back. " In regards to case he's been working on recently. You know that damn cult, the Kings Horn? The ones that are killing off those of us 'Abnormals'?" He said the last part adding in air quotations and a grimace. " Apparently he blew his cover and wiped out an entire chapter of them bastards." A big smile stretched from ear to ear by the time he finished. It was an unsettling smile that screamed of something predatory. The hair on my arms and neck stood on end and I could feel my eyebrows arched in surprise.

" If this is real then I'm surprised you came to me with it, considering-"

" That you dog us city cops and dig until you get all the information one way or another? That's why I came to you. You'd come knocking eventually and I know that you will get all the information unlike the others. Plus the quicker you act the less likely they are to successfully cover it up." James said in a low tone. He stopped as if considering for a moment before continuing. " You know that they have been wasting those of us in the community left and right ? Yet our president insists that they aren't any worse than those nuts at Westboro." He laughed, a cold and hollow noise that made me shudder.

" I'm familiar with the stories, I've seen the affidavits and Wann even called me out to a fresh scene a few weeks ago. I think he was just trying to recruit me though." I thought for a moment before looking him square in the eye.

" Even so I'm still curious why you would come to my desk with this. Especially after the story I wrote about Brian when he shot that dog." My chair gave a small sigh as I leaned back assessing his face while I said this.

James frowned and rubbed his chin. " Well. We put it to a vote and the majority were in your favor. Nick is older, has no car. You're more willing to get down and dirty for the facts than Danielle and you know a lot of people, or at least they're more willing to talk to you than the others." He shrugged before checking his phone.

I stared at him for a moment. It was the first time that he mentioned others wanting to get the information out. " We? As in?" I let my voice trail off, gesturing for him to continue.

He smiled and arched his brows shaking his head. The smile was all teeth and definitely not welcoming. "Don't worry about that, when Wann took you to that scene what did you think?" He said as he leaned forwards, his gaze darkening.

"I'm not allowed to discuss the scene."

James sighed and fell back in his seat. " I'm not trying to pump you for details. I just want to know if you noticed or not."

"Noticed?"

"The scenes always reek of ... something." He said gesturing to nothing in particular. "You might not be able to smell it, but surely you noticed something, I heard even cops that were tested and found to be a 100% null could still tell something was off."

I nodded in concession. I wasn't sensitive to magic by any means as far as I knew, and since neither the paper nor the federal government currently required a genetic test to be taken for hiring there really didnt seem to be a point in shelling out half of my paycheck just to find out if there might be a chance. Still, there was something about those scenes. The way the pale golden light of the head lights and flashlights cut into the darkness and settling on seemingly random points. It wasn't something that could easily be put into words. The simplest way to put it, was that every fiber of your being screamed for you to run as far as you could from that spot.

"I need to get back on patrol before chief finds out where I've been. We'll give you what we can." He said standing quickly.

" You mean those who voted." Not a question, but a quiet statement to which he nodded before stepping towards the door where he stopped staring at me for a moment. His eyes held unspoken words that his face said were forbidden. He straightened his uniform and pulled the door open.

I waited for a moment, listening for the sound of the front door chime that told me he had exited the lobby, and looked at the clock on my computer. Not even a quarter past eight in the morning and already my Friday schedule was tossed out the window. I sighed and rubbed my temples, I could either get a jump on the story or I could finish paginating the business pages. Not an easy decision to make with an empty cup of coffee.

I stood and stretched before grabbing my cup and walking to the break room.

The break room was relatively small with little walking room between the side by side fridge, table, two chairs, sink and questionably large amount of counter space. I tended to avoid the room unless heating up my meals or grabbing more coffee. The poster about minimum wage from 2009 and the fact that minimum wage had stayed the same for the last eleven years despite the gross rise of the cost of living was enough to make my blood boil. Especially since minimum wage was what I and many other in the area made unless you were willing to risk death or injury at the factories or mines for 15 hours a day, six days a week.

I set the coffee maker up for another pot and leaned against the counter. James Maddison was one of the few lycanthropes that I knew in the area that was open and public with who and what he was. Though it was more along the lines of him throwing it in your face and daring you to say something. Many members of the preternatural community, in this area especially, tended to keep it to themselves. Being in the middle of the Bible belt and a rural area at that, not many had an open mind. The younger generation was, as usual, more likely to tolerate. Even though there were laws preventing it many faced losing their job and homes if word ever got out. Managers have shifted people’s schedules around with out notice causing employees to arrive later than the scheduled times, or in some cases, not even coming in at all because they had left the day before under the assumption that they had the next day off. There were several questions that were always on the tip of my tongue when I saw James but as the saying goes curiosity killed the cat, and this time I'm not quite sure that satisfaction would be able to bring it back.

I shook my head and grabbed a styrofoam cup from the stack and poured if half way. Connor, our publisher, would want to know what just got thrown on my desk. No doubt a little birdie sitting in the front lobby had already sent him a text telling him of my visitor. Though I wasn't too sure that I wanted to sit on my hands the next two hours and wait until he got in the office to explain. Something told me that if James was telling me the truth and not just trying to send me on a wild goose chase to have a laugh with his buddies that this could be big and definitely something that we wanted to break before any of the channels picked it up. Being in a rural area did have advantages at times, like the fact that it takes longer for the a news channel to hear about things unless directly contacted by someone involved.

I tossed a package of hot cocoa mix and creamer into my cooling coffee, stirred it and headed back to my desk to grab my camera. It was going to be a long day.