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Putting the special in special agent.
"FBI this is Agent S-s-" Sneezing loudly into the phone I sigh. "-mith."
"Sounding good there Paul. Still recovering from the plague?"
"Yeah. What do you got for me Mulder?"
"Two more mutilations, town north of Detroit."
"Think its my boy?"
"Oh yeah. When they call us for help in Detroit you know its gotta be bad."
"True. I'm two hours out, let em know I'm coming." Local police hated it when the feds showed up without warning. I just hated shaking hands while they still had doughnut glaze on their hands.
If I really lucked out I'd get a shot at the lycan I'd been tracking for five months. If things went wrong I was looking at getting kicked to the curb by the Bureau. Right now the only agent willing to help me out was Mulder and even he thought I was cracking up. Booth thought I needed rehab or a couple hours with one of his friends from the titty bar.
Was pretty sure killing the werewolf that had bitten me five months ago would help my career and personal life. Still wasn't sure about the whole were thing in general. Serial killers, sure, any day of the week. But transforming into a wolf three nights a month and going on a rampage? Wasn't ready to buy it even if it was true.
Figured I had a chance still, kill the beastie that hid snacked on my shoulder and this might all just go away. Of course my boss had denied my request for silver bullets which left me with a silver knife I'd picked up on ebay as my main weapon. Which beat using Aunt Edna's silver letter opener.
Packed up my motel room and hit the road, heading for Attica, which sure enough, ended up being a shitty little town north of Detroit. Didn't take long to find the crime scene and the one reporter I really didn't want to see.
"How's the story coming for the Weekly World News? Was it the aliens this time or are you going with that wereman bullshit?"
"Sounding good there Paul. Still recovering from the plague?"
"Yeah. What do you got for me Mulder?"
"Two more mutilations, town north of Detroit."
"Think its my boy?"
"Oh yeah. When they call us for help in Detroit you know its gotta be bad."
"True. I'm two hours out, let em know I'm coming." Local police hated it when the feds showed up without warning. I just hated shaking hands while they still had doughnut glaze on their hands.
If I really lucked out I'd get a shot at the lycan I'd been tracking for five months. If things went wrong I was looking at getting kicked to the curb by the Bureau. Right now the only agent willing to help me out was Mulder and even he thought I was cracking up. Booth thought I needed rehab or a couple hours with one of his friends from the titty bar.
Was pretty sure killing the werewolf that had bitten me five months ago would help my career and personal life. Still wasn't sure about the whole were thing in general. Serial killers, sure, any day of the week. But transforming into a wolf three nights a month and going on a rampage? Wasn't ready to buy it even if it was true.
Figured I had a chance still, kill the beastie that hid snacked on my shoulder and this might all just go away. Of course my boss had denied my request for silver bullets which left me with a silver knife I'd picked up on ebay as my main weapon. Which beat using Aunt Edna's silver letter opener.
Packed up my motel room and hit the road, heading for Attica, which sure enough, ended up being a shitty little town north of Detroit. Didn't take long to find the crime scene and the one reporter I really didn't want to see.
"How's the story coming for the Weekly World News? Was it the aliens this time or are you going with that wereman bullshit?"