Thread: Blood Moon (	Cacophony x VanMordoc     )

Van rode down Main in his police cruiser, the growl of the '07 Mustang's engine seemed distant in the background to his deep thoughts. How could a man just snap like that? He was homeless, sure, and most of them were mentally defective in one way or another... Never had many problems with the few passing through Wilsonville petty theft, trespassing, panhandleing. Drugs, maybe? Sure, meth was a problem in a city this size just like all over the rest of the country but to have an absolute psychotic outburst like that without PCP mixed in too? He'd heard of a junkie being shot three times in the chest after eating their girlfriend's face and not going down. nothing like that had ever happened here before. That sounded the most plausible, but something didn't sit right with him. The unusual strength combined with the lack of situational awareness. Hell, the man chewed off his own tongue and some of his lips-as well as assaulting a strong, healthy man and his friend. The blood-loss alone should render a normal person too incapacitated. This was too weird for a city like this. He snapped back to reality just in time to flip his lights on and make an illegal left turn at a red light. Didn't matter, the streets were normally deserted by 1am on a Tuesday, he should get there just behind the ambulance. Van revved the engine as he took the corner, trying to make good time. He had to stay behind to take the report of the victim's friend who witnessed the attack. Probably boyfriend, he thought, based on the reaction and body language. The purple t-shirt with a rainbow logo and Gay Pride stenciled below gave him a clue. Whatever, it wasn't his job to judge, didn't affect his life in the least. Van pulled in the back of the ER wing of the hospital out of the way of yet another ambulance pulling in. He'd seen some busy nights, usually at a full moon or New Years a few years back, this one had to be the busiest. There was supposed to be a lunar eclipse tomorrow, maybe it was just coincidence. Did the Vic make it, Tom? Van asked. He was a full foot and a half taller than the squat Officer Neville, leaner and more muscular. Over 6 feet of timber wolf, whose intimidating yellow gaze was beset by black to brown and white fur that almost made him look like an Alaskan husky-though both his parents were from the Iron Range in Minnesota. N-no-huh-yes! He did make it here Sarge... he nearly bled out on the ride over. Uh, comatose... but they stopped the bleedin' and doc said he was damn lucky that guy didn't pierce his Jugular, whatever that is Said Neville, eyes fixed on the coffee grasped in his meaty paw. Too bad, he could have told us more about what happened. His buddy was still in the store buying condoms and Redbull when it went down. Van glanced at the cup and sniffed deeply the tepid, unappealing aroma of the hospital coffee. Coffee any good tonight? Hell no, weak as coyote piss. Think Judy's made the last pot. Neville swirled his cup, managing to spill a drip over the edge to the floor. Get a cup, I'll meet you in the ER, room 204. Doc says she needs to talk with you about our ' mad dog ' Van curled his lip, I think I could go for something stronger... He barked laughter in surprise as his co-worker pulled out a small flask from his cargo pocket, grabbing it up. I'll forget I saw that so long as you keep being a shitty cop. Fuck you, Sarge... lets go for a walk upstairs, eh? Neville shook his head and managed a weak grin.