After a while, people often say that no matter how bad things get, if you maintain a positive attitude and believe in yourself, you can overcome anything. Personally, I'm afraid I have to disagree. Sometimes, no matter how optimistic you are, external circumstances take control, and no amount of positive thinking can change them.

Lost in thought, still grappling with the mystery of my father's disappearance, I was jolted back to reality by the sudden ringing of the doorbell. Cautiously, I peer through the peephole and spot two police officers standing outside—one a white man with long hair, the other a bald black man. Both are tall, easily towering over six feet.

I opened the door and greeted them. "Good evening officers."

"Good evening," the black officer responded, stepping inside while the second officer stood outside.

I held the door open, glancing at the officer still on the porch. "Why isn't he coming in?"

The black man frowned slightly. "He needs to be invited in. Otherwise, he will remain outside."

I found the reason a bit ridiculous but chose to go along with it anyway. "You're welcome to join us, sir," I said, extending the invitation.

The officer stepped inside, his cryptic smile widening as he examined the room. His smile exposed those unnaturally sharp teeth, a sight that made me feel uneasy.

"Thank you," he said, his eyes shifting to the withered roses sitting in a vase near the door. Without hesitation, he reached out and ran his fingers over the dried petals, before deliberately pricking his finger on one of the thorns.

"Everything ok?" I asked as I watched him intentionally prick himself with a thorn. He brought his finger to his lips, his tongue flicking over the darkened blood.

The officer smiled, savoring the blood from his finger. "Just peachy."

I sat in an old Victorian chair near the stairs, quietly observing as the officers made their way toward me. Their eyes wandered around, drawn to the intricate and detailed decor of the receiving room. Eventually, they took a seat on a nearby couch, their expressions reflecting a hint of dissatisfaction.

"I understand from the information provided to us, that your father is missing."

I felt a surge of irritation. I had already explained this countless times, and now, instead of taking action, we were back to the same tiresome questions. The repetition was wearing on me, making me feel like every minute spent answering these inquiries was a minute wasted in finding my father.

"Why aren't you out there looking for my father? You’re the third person I’ve had to explain this to."

The officers exchanged a glance, clearly surprised by my outburst. I took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of calm. There was no use in losing my temper; it wouldn't help the situation. Reluctantly, I waved at them to continue with their questions.

One of the officers tucked away his notebook and let out a sigh. "Alright, let’s try to start fresh, okay? We’re here to help, but we need to get the full picture first."

I nodded in agreement, feeling a surge of anger within me. I clenched my fists, noticing a sudden rise in the temperature of my body.

"Good evening Mr. Heckler, I'm Lead Enforcer Tyler and this is Enforcer Grom. We are here to address your call regarding the disappearance of your father."

"Enforcers?" I asked. "Are you not regular policemen?"

"We are, in a way," Tyler said. "But Adams Town isn’t like other places. We enforce not just the law, but the order required to maintain our way of life. Our government runs in its unique manner, which means we handle things... differently."

"Could you provide us with his name and when you saw your father last?" Enforcer Grom asked.

"His name is Harold Heckler. He was entering the house when I went to talk to a woman sitting by the old tree."

"Did you know the woman you talked to? Does she have a name?" Tyler asked.

"I didn't care to ask. She wasn't the person I was looking for."

"Did your dad have enemies? Maybe a bar fight or unpaid bets, etc.?"

"No, we arrived at this town 6 hours ago. We went to grab something for dinner and returned shortly after. While I engaged in a conversation with the woman outside, my father went into the house. When I came back looking for him, he was already gone. I searched every corner of the house, but I couldn't find him. My search ended the moment I found the kitchen door forced to open from the inside out. There is blood on the porch floor, the walls, and the door itself."

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"Can you take us to the kitchen?" Tyler asked.

I led the enforcers down the hallway and into the kitchen, gesturing toward the blood smeared across the floor, the footprints in the puddles, and the clear signs of a struggle between two people that appeared to lead out to the backyard.

Both enforcers began inspecting the scene. Tyler focused on the damaged door, while Grom crouched down, running his fingers through some of the blood on the floor. To my shock, he placed his bloodstained finger in his mouth.

I stared at Grom in disbelief as he licked the blood off his finger. "What the hell are you doing?"

Tyler didn't seem fazed by his partner's unsettling behavior. Instead, he stood by the broken door, examining the damage closely. "Grom has a unique way of gathering information. I will suggest keeping an open mind and allowing us to conduct the investigation."

"We have a couple of strays," Grom said."The blood is mixed, and it complicates things. It belongs to more than one person."

Tyler began sniffing the air, like a bloodhound catching a scent. After a moment, he picked up his phone and dialed. "We need restoration at the old Reinhart estate. Make it quick."

He glanced over at Grom. "Contact the Lord Inquisitor. Looks like we've got a couple of troublemakers stirring up a disturbance."

"Will do."

Grom quickly left the kitchen, leaving Tyler to focus back on me. "We do things differently here in Adams Town. A specialized crew trained in crime scene rehabilitation will be here tonight to help secure the house. Whatever happens, you must not leave this house tonight."

My unease grew; it felt like I was being left in the dark about my father’s fate. "Okay, but what about my dad?

Lead Enforcer Tyler sighed. "Unfortunately, it’s too dangerous to send out a team of trackers right now. We’ll have to wait until daylight before we can take any further action to locate your father."

"He might be dead by morning!" I shouted in desperation, clenching my fists.

Tyler noticed my sudden burst of anger and immediately gripped my hand. "I understand your concern. Please, you need to calm down. Right now, this is the best course of action we can take." He said, slowly releasing the tight grip on my hand. "You're old enough to stay secluded in your own house, and it's crucial—for your safety—that you remain inside. Lock all the doors and windows."

He walked back into the kitchen, crouching in front of the puddle of blood. "And one more thing: during nighttime, don’t open the door to anyone. No matter what."

"I haven't been in Adams for a whole day, and I already lost both of my parents," I said.

"Both parents?" Tyler asked. "Didn't you just say, only your father is missing?"

"Yes. My mother passed away a month ago."

Tyler's eyes widened slightly. I could sense a change in his behavior. It felt like something I said had struck a chord, as if he knew more than he was letting on. He might know something about my mother's death that I'm unaware off.

"I'm sorry for your loss. Losing a parent is never easy, and now with your father missing, it must be incredibly difficult for you. Can I ask... how did your mother die?"

"According to my father, it happened at the Harshall trails back home. It's being labeled as an animal attack."

Tyler remained thoughtful for a moment. "May I ask for your mother's name?"

"Helena, Helena Heckler."

Upon hearing her name, Tyler puts his notebook away. His gaze shifted over his shoulder as if searching for something or someone.

"Are you related to the Reinhart family?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as if the question itself was dangerous.

"That name doesn't ring a bell."

"This house belonged to the Reinhart family. It’s just… odd. You mentioned the name Helena Heckler, and there are… connections to the Reinharts in this town related to your mother's name. Be careful, Mr. Heckler. Adams Town holds more secrets than you can imagine."

"Ok, I will do my best."

Tyler moved to the window, pulling the curtain aside as he watched a vehicle approach the house. "Alright, kid. The restitution team is here. They'll handle the door and clean up the blood in the kitchen," he said, stepping over to open the front door.

"So, this is it? This is all I get? You're not even going to ask what my dad looks like? How can you possibly find him if you don't know what he looks like?"

Tyler paused, his back still turned to me, his hand resting on the doorknob. He glanced over his shoulder with disapproval. "That won't be necessary. Like I said, we do things differently here."

A steady stream of people began pouring into the house, their presence adding to the growing chaos. Among them, a woman carrying a briefcase caught my attention. She stopped in front of Tyler, clearly seeking direction.

"Hello," the woman greeted, setting the briefcase on the floor. "We're the restoration team. Could you show us where to begin?"

"The door to the right will take you to the kitchen. This young man here is the new owner. If you need anything, he'll be the one to ask."

"Thank you, sir." The woman said, before turning and walking toward the kitchen.

"Take care of yourself, young man," Tyler said as he stepped out. "Remember my warning. The red moon will rise tonight—lock yourself in, and don’t interact with anyone."

"When I'm going to hear back from you?" I asked.

"We'll be in touch," Tyler said, shutting the door behind him.

I stood there, unsure of what to do next. The uneasy feeling inside me only grew as the room fell silent once more. I made my way to the kitchen, noticing that the restoration team had already replaced the broken door. A young woman, dressed in tight clothing, poured a strange liquid over the bloodstains on the porch. To my surprise, the blood disappeared almost instantly, as if it had never been there.

"Excuse me, sir." A woman suddenly appeared in front of me, catching me off guard.

"Hey!" I said awkwardly. "How are you?"

"My name is Lisa. I wanted to check if there are any additional repairs you'd like us to handle in the house?"

I wasn’t sure how to respond. Nervously, I glanced around until my eyes landed on an old vase near the front door. "My mother loved roses," I said, pointing at it. "Could you get some fresh ones?"

Lisa's smile widened in approval. "Of course, Mr. Reinhart. Fresh roses will bring this room back to life. An excellent choice."