lowlaville
New member
The dim light of the late afternoon filtered through the blinds of Jacob’s cramped office, casting long shadows across the cluttered desk. Papers were scattered everywhere—most of them mundane cases, runaway bail-jumpers, and low-level criminals, but at the center of the mess lay something different: an old, folded newspaper.
Jacob leaned back in his worn-out leather chair, the springs creaking under his weight as his sharp, dark eyes scanned the headline for what felt like the hundredth time.
“Small Town Terror: Werewolf Sightings Spark Panic Amid Bloodshed.”
The article detailed a string of gruesome killings in the small town of Pine Ridge, nestled in the dense forests of upstate New York. Locals spoke of newborn werewolves—men and women who had no history of lycanthropy suddenly turning, ripping apart families, neighbors, anyone in their path. Blood stained the streets, and authorities were baffled. The local sheriff had called in the National Guard to lock the town down, turning it into a militarized zone.
Jacob’s fingers clenched the edge of the paper, the slight tremor in his hand betraying the storm of emotions roiling inside him. Newborns. Just like he had been.
He knew these kinds of outbreaks didn’t happen by chance. Not anymore. It had to be connected to him—the white wolf. The one who turned him. The one Jacob had been hunting for years.
He exhaled slowly, setting the paper down on the desk. His office was a testament to his obsession. Files, notes, and maps lined the walls, red strings connecting incidents of werewolf transformations across the country, each one seemingly random but all tied together by a thread Jacob had yet to fully grasp.
The white wolf was out there, somewhere. And Jacob knew Pine Ridge was more than just another small-town horror story. This was his lead. The first solid lead in years.
He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor as he grabbed his jacket from the back of it and slung it over his shoulder. The silver knife at his hip, tucked under his coat, clinked against the glass vial filled with wolfsbane as he moved. The weapons were always with him, a reminder of the dangerous line he walked. The beast inside him stirred, sensing the hunt.
With one last glance at the article, Jacob walked out of his office, locking the door behind him. Pine Ridge was a few hours' drive, and with the town locked down, getting in wouldn’t be easy. But for Jacob, nothing about this life was easy. He just hoped his license as a bailbondsman would do the part of convincing the authorities to let him through. If not? Well, he'd have to do it the old fashioned way.
He slid into his beat-up black sedan, the engine growling to life as he pulled out of the alleyway, merging onto the bustling New York streets. The lights of the city blurred past him, but his mind was far from the urban jungle. It was back in the woods, where he had woken up as a monster. Where the white wolf had left him for dead, only to realize later that the transformation was permanent.
The sound of the newspaper’s warning echoed in his ears as he sped toward the highway.
Werewolf sightings spark panic...
Jacob gripped the wheel tighter.
White wolf, if you’re out there... I’m coming for you.
-----------------
- Newly turned werewolves running amok in a town
- Jacob planning to head down there to investigate
- If this is something your character might be interested in, let me know
Jacob leaned back in his worn-out leather chair, the springs creaking under his weight as his sharp, dark eyes scanned the headline for what felt like the hundredth time.
“Small Town Terror: Werewolf Sightings Spark Panic Amid Bloodshed.”
The article detailed a string of gruesome killings in the small town of Pine Ridge, nestled in the dense forests of upstate New York. Locals spoke of newborn werewolves—men and women who had no history of lycanthropy suddenly turning, ripping apart families, neighbors, anyone in their path. Blood stained the streets, and authorities were baffled. The local sheriff had called in the National Guard to lock the town down, turning it into a militarized zone.
Jacob’s fingers clenched the edge of the paper, the slight tremor in his hand betraying the storm of emotions roiling inside him. Newborns. Just like he had been.
He knew these kinds of outbreaks didn’t happen by chance. Not anymore. It had to be connected to him—the white wolf. The one who turned him. The one Jacob had been hunting for years.
He exhaled slowly, setting the paper down on the desk. His office was a testament to his obsession. Files, notes, and maps lined the walls, red strings connecting incidents of werewolf transformations across the country, each one seemingly random but all tied together by a thread Jacob had yet to fully grasp.
The white wolf was out there, somewhere. And Jacob knew Pine Ridge was more than just another small-town horror story. This was his lead. The first solid lead in years.
He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor as he grabbed his jacket from the back of it and slung it over his shoulder. The silver knife at his hip, tucked under his coat, clinked against the glass vial filled with wolfsbane as he moved. The weapons were always with him, a reminder of the dangerous line he walked. The beast inside him stirred, sensing the hunt.
With one last glance at the article, Jacob walked out of his office, locking the door behind him. Pine Ridge was a few hours' drive, and with the town locked down, getting in wouldn’t be easy. But for Jacob, nothing about this life was easy. He just hoped his license as a bailbondsman would do the part of convincing the authorities to let him through. If not? Well, he'd have to do it the old fashioned way.
He slid into his beat-up black sedan, the engine growling to life as he pulled out of the alleyway, merging onto the bustling New York streets. The lights of the city blurred past him, but his mind was far from the urban jungle. It was back in the woods, where he had woken up as a monster. Where the white wolf had left him for dead, only to realize later that the transformation was permanent.
The sound of the newspaper’s warning echoed in his ears as he sped toward the highway.
Werewolf sightings spark panic...
Jacob gripped the wheel tighter.
White wolf, if you’re out there... I’m coming for you.
-----------------
- Newly turned werewolves running amok in a town
- Jacob planning to head down there to investigate
- If this is something your character might be interested in, let me know