The next morning, First stop: the sheriff's station.
I make my way there on foot, passing the familiar streets of Beacon Hills still shrouded in the early morning haze. The air smells faintly of wet earth and pine, mixed with the faint scent of rain. As I approach the station, I notice a few early risers—civilians heading to work, some kids on bikes. None suspect the storm about to hit.
I make my way toward the front desk, where a youthful officer looks up from her computer with a mixture of curiosity and fatigue. Behind her, the glass door to the sheriff's office is slightly ajar, revealing the familiar cluttered desk, a stack of case files, and a worn sheriff's badge pinned to the wall.
"Morning," I say, voice steady but calm.
She nods, eyes narrowing slightly. "You new around here?"
"Ross Arctos," I reply, pulling My badge from my pocket and sliding it onto the counter. "Just got back in town. I'll be working with the department for a little while. Looking to help with some cases—things that seem like they're missing something. Cases that no one else can quite figure out."
The officer glances at the badge, then back at me, her expression cautious but intrigued. "Sheriff Stilinski's expecting you. I'll let him know you're here."
Moments later, the door swings open softly, and Sheriff Stilinski steps out. His face is lined with worry, but his eyes—sharp and attentive—immediately assess me as I approach.
"Ross Arctos," I introduce myself, offering a hand. "I understand you're busy. I won't take up much of your time."
He hesitates for a moment before accepting, his grip firm but cautious. "Sheriff Stilinski. I've got a feeling you're not just here to chat."
I nod, letting the weight of my words hang in the air. "Exactly I've been sent here to assist with some of the ongoing cases. I'm here to help. Look, I've been tracking some cases—missing persons, strange activity—that don't seem to add up. People go missing, and no one really knows why. Or how. It's like there's a missing piece, and everyone's just sort of… waiting for it to fall into place."
Stilinski's brow furrows. "Missing persons, huh? Yeah, we've had a few of those. But nothing that points to anything that should involve the FBI—at least, not yet."
"Exactly," I say softly. "That's what concerns me. It's not always easy to see, but it's enough to make me wonder. Sometimes, things are happening that don't fit the usual patterns. People disappear without a trace, no signs of struggle, no signs of anything unusual".
He looks at me carefully, rubbing his chin. "And you think you can help?"
"I know I can. I've dealt with cases like these before—cases that seem normal on the surface but hide something darker underneath. I've worked with local police before, and I've learned to see past the surface of things. I'll be honest—I'm not here to take over. I'm here to support you, to work alongside you, maybe even help you connect some dots."
Stilinski studies me for a moment, then nods slowly. "Alright. If you're serious, I can set you up with an office. Nothing fancy—just a corner where you can work. But I want to be clear, I need to know you're on the level. And that you're not here to cause trouble."
"I understand," I reply evenly. "I'm here to help, not to interfere. My goal is to add value, to help you solve these cases that seem to be stuck. Cases where the clues don't quite fit, or where the evidence points to something… unexplainable."
He nods again, then turns and walks toward the back office. "Follow me. I'll show you where you'll be setting up. We've had some recent disappearances—two teenagers last month, another adult just last week. No signs of forced entry, no obvious motive. Just… gone."
I'm led down a narrow corridor, the faint scent of coffee and old paper lingering in the air. As we step into the small, cluttered office, I notice the walls are lined with case files, photos, and scribbled notes—some in languages I don't recognize, others with vague sketches and symbols.
"Here," Stilinski says, gesturing to the desk. "It's not much now, but you're free to make it your own. I'll have the tech guys set you up with access to the database. We've got reports on all the recent missing persons—nothing out of the ordinary on the surface, but I agree, something's off."
I nod, taking in the room. "Thanks. I'll review everything, see if I can spot any patterns or anomalies. Sometimes, the smallest detail can be the key."
He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "Look, Ross, I've been sheriff here for a long time. I've seen a lot of weird stuff—stuff that doesn't always make sense until it's too late. If you're really here to help, I need you to be straight with me. No secrets, no agendas. Just the truth, and whatever you find—trust me, I'll listen."
"I respect that," I say sincerely. "You've got my word—no secrets, no hidden agendas. I'm here because I want to see this town safe. And I've seen enough in my time to know that sometimes, the most dangerous things are the ones you can't see coming."
He gives me a small nod, then turns to leave. "Alright. I'll have the tech team get you set up. And if you need anything—access to files, surveillance footage, whatever—you just ask."
"Thanks, Sheriff," I say as he heads out. "I'll get to work. I'll probably be here late, but I'll keep you updated."
He pauses at the door, glancing back at me with a faint smile. "Good. And Ross—be careful. Beacon Hills has a way of throwing surprises at you when you least expect it."
I watch him go, then sit down at the cluttered desk. I open a notebook, jot down some initial thoughts, then pull out some files to review the case reports. There's nothing that screams supernatural on the surface, but I know better. Sometimes, the clues are subtle— a scent, a pattern, an anomaly that doesn't belong.
Across the room, a flickering fluorescent light hums steadily, casting a pale glow over the chaos of scattered papers and scribbled notes. Outside, the wind stirs the trees, branches scraping against the windows like whispering ghosts.
I lean back in the chair, eyes narrowing as I scan the reports. The missing persons cases seem ordinary—until I notice the strange residue in each of their last known locations. Something faint, something unnatural—like a trace of ozone, or a lingering scent of decay.
I tap my fingers on the desk, thinking. This isn't just about people disappearing. There's something else—something bigger. And I intend to find out what it is.
Because in Beacon Hills, the darkness isn't always obvious. Sometimes, it's hiding in plain sight, waiting for the right moment to strike again.
And I plan to be ready.
I sit back in the cluttered office, reviewing the files Sheriff Stilinski handed me. The reports are straightforward on the surface—missing persons, no signs of forced entry, no obvious motive. But I know better. The subtle details stand out, But I'm confident it's a wendigo, I just need to track it or them.
I lean forward, studying the reports more carefully. The last three disappearances—two teenagers last month, one adult just last week—share a common thread. No signs of struggle, no witnesses, no explanation. The victims all vanished from their homes or familiar places, leaving behind nothing but vague anomalies that a regular police investigation would overlook.
I tap my fingers on the desk, contemplating. This isn't just about missing people. I need to look closer, dig deeper—because whatever is out there, it's waiting for the right moment to strike again.
My laptop laying on the desk suddenly glows, drawing my attention. I log in and scroll through the notifications to show I now have access to all the files, I check the recent reports from the station's database. Nothing new, but I notice some surveillance footage from the areas where the victims were last seen. I request access to the footage from the last three days—up to three days before and after each disappearance.
Deciding that sitting here is not helping I decide to go see the sheriff, I walk down to his office and knock on the glass door.
"Come in" the sheriff projects through the door
"Sheriff, do you perhaps have a map showing all the missing victims and do you by chance have records of the other stations in the towns near by to see about their missing victims?" I ask as I strode forward to sit in the chair in front of the desk, though I must sit far forward as I'm too big for the little chairs in the office
"First call me Noah, I don't think I can keep hearing my title in that thick accent of yours" Noah says with a straight face, "However I don't have a map I can get one set up, and I will have one of the deputies reach out to the other stations to ask about their missing cases"
I nod and look around the room, taking in the room. Noticing the photo of a teen on his desk "Your son?" I nod towards the photo "looks like a good lad. He going to follow you into police work?"
The Sherriff gives me a smile and looks to the photo himself "yeah…No he's a delinquent. Always where he shouldn't be, always getting into things, I don't mean real crime just he's stiles, his name is stiles. He wants to one up me, wants your job FBI"
I laugh "One upping his old man I can understand wanting to make you proud, and all kids are troublemakers I'm sure you were to back in your day. I remember getting a slap round the back of the head several times of my uncle Haohiko for putting toes out of place he's the reason I joined the FBI"
"Uncle? Not your dad?" he asks with a flat face, one that says I knows im walking into it but I gotta ask
"Yeah, mom and dad was murdered when I was small, his friend took me in. Its okay don't say sorry it was before I could form real memories of them. I would call my uncle dad, but he never wanted that says it would take the honour away from a great couple, anyway if you can get me the stuff I asked for ill be back around tomorrow I'm going to check out the areas the missing went missing" I lift a hand and leave the room before he can say anything and it gets awkward.
Strolling out of the sheriff's office, mind racing with the new leads. The map would take a few hours to set up, but I know the real work was just beginning, so I'll be back tomorrow to check out the map first breakfast and then access the areas.