CHAPTER 30 | smile, you're on candid camera
A/N. Hello my lovelies, hope you enjoy the chapter... don't forget to vote.. ;-)
Take care.
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Kaitlyn's mind was in turmoil. Her thoughts were scattered and incoherent. As with tradition when she was in this state she went for a run. When that didn't work, she cleaned and polished her apartment until it shone. Still finding no peace, she then traipsed into the kitchen, pulled out pots and pans, and began cooking. Her last resort when attempting to make order out of chaos.
Somehow, she had managed to drive home without killing herself, or any of the other unsuspecting motorists. How, was beyond her. Her mind, ever overactive and always attempting to find answers was in overdrive and numb at the same time - if that was at all possible.
"Anyone would think you've never been kissed before," Kaitlyn censured herself as she pulled ingredients out of the pantry and threw them on the bench.
Yanking open the top drawer, she pulled out a sharp knife and waved it at the unsuspecting fruit basket. "You're a bloody adult!"
She placed a chopping board on the bench and slammed the knife on top. "You carry a gun and you're not afraid to shoot scum of the earth. For Christ sakes," she huffed, "you have shot someone."
So why was she so agitated about one stupid kiss?
"He's moody, and non-talkative when he wants to be," she reasoned, "not to mention the fact that he's an immigrant - and there is the issue of the age gap," she finished.
Kaitlyn then set about doing damage to the unsuspecting vegetables as she attacked them with furore.
But the problem was, she was growing extremely addicted to not only his earth-shattering kisses but the man himself. The more she had worked with him, the more he had let her see behind the wall that he had carefully constructed to shut out the world.
She had seen the man that was buried under his self-imposed prison, and she was powerless to resist. There was no doubt in her mind she was physically attracted to the Werewolf. That, she had accepted long ago. His body had set hers alight and on a constant simmer, so that she was willing, and if she was honest, more than eager to taste the forbidden fruit. They were both consenting adults, she had reasoned to herself, so what if things get a little out of hand?
What had shocked her to her core was that her emotions were now in play. This was unacceptable. She could not - would not - allow herself to feel anything other than a physical reaction to the man.
Again taking herself to task, she began chiding her stupidity. "You need to get a grip! You are just tired and this case has gotten to you."
Continuing her hive of activity, Kaitlyn managed to calm herself down from the frenzied place she had worked herself up to. Her emotions now in check, she had managed to convince her mind that she had been mistaken. There were no feelings whatsoever for her very desirable, masculine and steamy partner, whose eyes seemed to bore into her soul and set her on fire each time he got too close.
Ignoring the little voice in the back of her mind laughing - Yeah, right! She continued attacking a bag of onions. Convinced she now had the matter under control.
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Attempting to get comfortable, the homeless Gulf War Veteran, pushed the flap of the cardboard box closed to stop the cold of the night air getting into his old bones. Nestled between two large dumpsters he was hidden away from view. The smell of rotting food, scraps and dead rats ensured that the small amount of people wandering down the alleyway kept away from his little corner of the universe.
A fleeting smile spread across his dirty whiskered face. There were fewer people at the soup kitchen this evening, and he had managed to score two servings. His stomach was full and he wouldn't need to go to sleep hungry.
"Yep Sergeant Jim," he said, to himself as he patted his stomach. "That was a mighty fine meal. A mighty fine meal indeed."
Just as he was about to pull his moth-eaten blanket that he had retrieved from a rubbish bin over his head, a strange noise in the alley caught his attention. He was far back enough from the busy street beyond that the city noise was somewhat dulled. This allowed him advance notice if anyone was approaching his hard-fought home.
He froze, listening to the scuffed footsteps. This was a dangerous part of the city, and more than one homeless person had come off worse for wear as a result of run-ins with gangs and youth after a quick thrill.
With stealth that belied his current condition, he peeked his head out of his cardboard home. He had lost many things from his days in service to his country. His eyesight was not one of them. Jim needed to rub his eyes vigorously to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating. A short way off, standing under the glow of a flickering street lamp were a group of men.
It wasn't the men that had stunned him. It was the three giant dogs standing with them. What was more surprising was that the dogs appeared to be listening to the conversation going on around them.
Peering from his vantage point, he scanned the area to see if there were any other witnesses to this odd scene. As expected, this alley was devoid of any others. There was something every odd with whatever was going on. Nervous, as to what they would do if he were discovered, he remembered the old cell phones the shelters had passed out for emergencies. He quickly scrambled to find it.
"Found you!" he whispered jubilantly as he quickly turned it on. It was old, nothing like the fancy phones he saw people clutch onto and stare at for hours, but it would do.
Accessing the camera, he pushed the record button and pointed it at the group. As he looked up, he was further shocked to discover one of the men disrobing.
What in the tarnation is he doing?
What he saw next, nearly made him drop the cell phone, as well as almost bring up his meal. His hands were shaking so hard he wasn't sure if he was filming it all.
Even from a distance he could hear the sound of breaking bones as the now naked man's body began to contort and deform as thick hair grew outward from the man's skin. The man dropped to his hands and knees. A slight grunt, the only sign that he was feeling the popping and jolty movements his body was forcing him through.
We've been invaded by fuckn' aliens. I knew it. I knew there was something not quite right with – all thoughts evaporated as a giant dog now stood in the place where the man had just occupied.
It took Jim the better part of two hours after they had left, to even consider leaving the sanctuary and protection of his cardboard home. The moment the decision was made to venture out, the lights from cars pulling into the alleyway had him scampering back inside. He watched as five vehicles stopped a short distance up the alleyway and over a dozen men with semi-automatics, jumped out and ran to the back entrance of the building. Unable to hear what they were saying, Jim could tell that something was amiss from their panicked looks and furtive glances at each other.
Not long after, two large vans pulled into the alley. The back doors were opened, and he watched with growing horror as dead bodies were brought out and thrown into the first van. Just as quickly, the doors were slammed closed and the van and original vehicles were screeching out of the alley as fast as they could.
Jim, risking exposure, peered further out to glance a look at the remaining van. Three men pulled cleaning products, mops and buckets from the back and proceeded inside the building. Two hours later they were gone. Leaving the alley in the same condition, they had found it. No one the wiser they had been there at all.
After he was sure they had gone, not to return, Jim slowly crept out, his eyes darting nervously around the alley. He knew he needed to tell someone. But who would believe someone like him? He was invisible. One of the great unwashed and avoided like the plague.
As he slowly made his way up the busy Brooklyn street, a gust of wind blew a newspaper in front of him. It settled for a moment, and just as quickly flew off down a side street with the next gust of wind. As he watched the paper toss and turn as it bounced off the pavement he realised who he could tell. The one person who might believe he wasn't insane.
Making his way to Holocaust Memorial Park, he searched the homeless sleeping on the park benches. He was searching for the one he knew would have the information he needed. Finding Marty's distinct supermarket trolley, he shook the old man awake. "Marty, can you remember the name of that reporter that spent a few nights with us last year? The one that wanted to do that story on how the government is deliberately forcing Vets to live on the streets?" Jim whispered loudly.
Marty rolled over from his position, sat up, and pulled his hat down further on his head. Reaching for the bottle of cheap whisky in his coat pocket, he took a quick drink and wiped his mouth with the back of his jacket sleeve. "You mean that conspiracy nut?" - He held out the half empty bottle to Jim - "Andy something... No, wait - Andrew Robbins... just like the singer."
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A/N.. Oh my, can you guess who got caught on camera???
... there is now proof that immigrants are real ... and our reporter is about to have his hands on the footage.... not good, not good at all !!!
... and what is Kaitlyn going to do with all that food??
Next chapter up in the next couple of days.
Until then take care.
M.
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