*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧—chapter thirty-one: interrogation

August 23, 2021
North Kill Police Department
Upstate New York, New York

CASSIDY DIDN'T KNOW MUCH ABOUT OFFICER COOPER. Who knows if the officer was a good guy? None of the policemen were good guys. Not even Ray Brandt. But Ray was better than most of them by default. Bad cop was the façade that had spread like the plague for as long as Cassidy could remember. It had started with the former sheriff, Hank Brandt, and then overwrote Travis' personality, and it was like he infected the other police with it. In truth, that pretty much was what happened.

Cooper has a tight grip on Cassidy's arm—the non-bandaged one, and not too tight that it hurt him—as he leads him to a room.

The room was far too bright, the harsh light beaming down on him that he had to squint and shield his face with a hand. But the room itself felt really dark, eerie even. Save for the lighting. The analog clock ticked incessantly on the wall. And the continuous hum of the air conditioning wasn't doing anything to sooth him either. The walls were bare, a stark white in contrast to the muddy grey-painted concrete floors. The concrete was chipped in several places and there were long cracks throughout its entirety, some of the paint scraped off in places. A one-way mirror was embedded in the back wall. In the middle of the room was an old metal table that creaked when pressure was applied to it, a few screws in it were loose. From where he was standing, he could see a black tape recorder, a manila folder with various documents, a stack of papers, and a black ink ballpoint pen resting on an old steel table that looked about ready to collapse at any second. Two rusty metal chairs were positioned on either side of the table. The room was cold and had an off-putting vibe to it.

Cassidy hated creepy rooms.

Officer Cooper loosens his grip on Cassidy's arm as he leads him over to the table and pulls out the chair, expecting him to take a seat. As the officer takes a seat of his own, he reaches for the tape recorder and presses three of the buttons: record, play, and pause. Pause had been pressed first so that the recording wouldn't start yet.

Cassidy doesn't sit down, though. Not immediately.

"Cassidy," Officer Cooper is watching him shift nervously on his feet. "I need you to sit down so we can start."

The boy shakes his head, not moving from where he stood.

"You can't stand there all morning. We have business to attend to."

"Fine," Cassidy huffs in annoyance and sits down.

But before he even does anything else, he squeezes his eyes shut for just a moment, wanting so badly to clear his mind of everything that had happened from last night leading up to just earlier this morning. It all had happened in such a short timeframe, yet, in all honesty, it felt like it all happened as quick a second, when in reality, it was fourteen straight hours.

They weren't supposed to have been there that long. Chris was supposed to have taken the counselors in the van and driven them to the airport. Ryan was supposed to have walked home—he lives in North Kill, so he didn't live too far away from camp. Travis was supposed to have taken Cassidy home. But instead, it had all gone wrong when Jacob stole the van's rotor arm, and when Caleb, Kaylee, and Gabriel had sneaked out of the house that evening.

If that didn't happen, Kaylee and Constance wouldn't have had their faces blown off with silver bullets. Jedediah wouldn't have been strangled to death. Mary wouldn't have had her throat ripped out. But that also means that Fenris would still be roaming around the county free as a fucking bird. The curse would have still remained. Anyone who was infected, including Cassidy who had been born with the curse, would not have been cured and they would have had to deal with it until the next full moon.

Just thinking about it all made it worse. It was macabre. Deafening gunshots. Sharp teeth. The screams. The blood. The mangled bodies. He's quick to squeeze his eyes shut, hoping to make the visions disappear. He doesn't want to see it. He doesn't want to remember. He just wants it all to stop. He doesn't want to remember how this night turned into a nightmare.

His face feels hot and he opens his eyes. He knows he must've been about to cry. His eyes were watering. He blinks in hopes the tears don't fall and that they'll go away. And these near tears weren't ones of sorrow. They were tears of pain. This never-ending, gut-wrenching pain that made his stomach twist in knots and do somersaults. The kind that made him physically feel sick. The kind that made him nauseous. He wanted to throw up.

Taking in a shaky breath as he tries to calm himself, he looks everywhere but at Officer Cooper and the items on the table. He glances up at the walls, staring at a surveillance camera in the corner. The small red light was flashing. He was sure the person watching from the surveillance room was getting a kick out of this. An interrogation that hadn't even started yet. Cassidy trying to, but possibly failing, to calm himself.

Cassidy looks toward the door next. It was made of solid steel. Durable, but not bulletproof. Harder to open than most doors due to the heaviness. He wasn't planning on leaving the room. Not like he needed to. And not like he would be allowed to when the interrogation hadn't even started. After all, he was here for a reason. Officer Cooper needed answers.

He turns away from the down and glances down at his lap. He had been picking at his fingers, wishing he could scrape the dried blood off of his hands. There was still blood on his face, too. And his clothes. There was blood all over him. And he had made several failed attempts to wipe the blood off in his jeans.

He felt dirty from all that blood. That amount shouldn't even be on a person. Plus, some of it wasn't even his blood. He really wanted a shower. No, he needed a shower. And he just wanted to go home. He was tired, hungry, and thirsty. He hadn't eaten or drank anything since around 5-8pm last night. It's been at least half a day since. That wasn't good for anyone.

"Do you need a moment, Cassidy?" Officer Cooper says, quiet and gentle, as to not want to scare him if he was too loud and harsh. Cassidy looks up at him, brown eyes meeting green. Cooper was a nice cop, but not as nice as Ray.

The Hackett boy nods slowly, not saying anything to the cop sat in front of him. His thoughts were still a jumbled mess and he still needed a moment to get a clear head.

He wasn't sure how long it took, but Cooper hadn't seemed to mind. Cassidy sighs, and sits up a bit straighter. "I'm ready to give you answers," he says.

Cooper nods and glances down at the tape recorder on the table. He reaches for it and releases the pause button. The tape starts, and he waits a few seconds before speaking. "Interview with Cassidy Hackett. Monday, August 23rd, 2021." His next words had to be chosen carefully if he wanted answers from the young man seated before him. "Cassidy, could you tell me what happened last night?"

He does not meet the eye of the officer sat in front of him. He didn't want to. He doesn't want to talk to Officer Cooper, even though he had promised him he would give him answers to his questions. Cassidy rests his chin in the palms of his hands, staring down at the folder with a solemn expression on his face.

"Cassidy, I need you to answer me, please. I don't want to have to repeat myself," Cooper says, trying to remain calm, but there was a hint of frustration in his words. "You told me you were ready. And I have a job to do, and you still need to get back to the hospital to rest before being able to go back home and get proper sleep."

Brown eyes meet green once again as Cassidy stares directly into his eyes. He sighs as he sits up and rests his hands on the table and taps his fingers against it in a continuous rhythm. He averts his gaze and looks up at the surveillance camera, then at the steel door, then at the one-way glass mirror. Then, he turns back around to look at Officer Cooper. "No. I don't think I want to," he answers finally, before looking back down at the manila folder resting on the table. The corner of a picture is sticking out, though, hidden beneath the tab. He doesn't know what's exactly on the photo, since he can't see the full picture, but he was certain it might be a dead body. One of the seven. Four of which were in Hackett House. Two in the woods. One at the boathouse docks.

"The sooner you recount the events of last night, the sooner you get to go home and rest, all right?" The officer reassures, a warm smile on his face, through he seemed a bit nervous. As if he knew trying to reassure Cassidy wasn't going to work. As if he knew that maybe Cassidy didn't want to be helped. Because in all honesty, they both knew Cassidy Hackett did not want to be here. "This'll benefit both of us, got it?"

Cassidy doesn't answer, staying silent as he stares at Officer Cooper.

"Cassidy, I need you to answer."

Cassidy huffs, a scowl on his face. "Why don't you ask someone else that was there? Like, my friends? Or even my girlfriend, huh?" he speaks up, leaning across the table. The table creaks under the weight being applied to it. "Or even ask my goddamn family yourself!" He snaps, his blood boiling with rage.

He wanted to leave. Right the fuck now.

Cooper just sighs and shakes his head as he taps his pen against the table. He grabs a piece of paper from the stack on the table and starts writing something down. Dropping the pen when he was done, he looks back up at him. "Okay, we'll try this again. I need answers from you, Cassidy. If you don't tell me, we'll get nowhere and we'll be here all morning 'til night. And you don't want that, do you?"

Cassidy shakes his head.

"Good," the man replies. "Now, why don't you start from the beginning?"

A sigh leaves Cassidy's lips as he leans back in the chair. He crosses his arms over his chest and taps his foot against the floor, staying silent yet again. He was trying to waste even more time, but his attempt was futile. Officer Cooper was still staring at him, unamused. Plus, Cassidy was starting to get bored the longer he was in here without answering any of the questions the officer had. He might as well start complying now.

After all, time is of the essence.

Cassidy looks up at Officer Cooper before speaking, trying to remain as calm as possible.

"It started six years ago," he begins, "when my cousins made a grave mistake..."

✧ ✧ ✧

Cassidy glances down at the tape recorder, then up at the clock on the wall, then up at Officer Cooper.

The interrogation had taken just over an hour.

Just over an hour for Cassidy to explain everything. It had been a bit rushed due to his nervousness and yearning for home and much needed shower and sleep, and Cooper hadn't been in the mood to tell him to slow down. Cooper seemed to know how badly Cassidy just wanted to get the fuck out of here and be as far away from the police as possible. Besides Travis of course. The sheriff was the only actual policeman that Cassidy could never escape. After all, he did live with him.

Both of them stay silent. Cassidy gets up from the chair and Cooper stays put, gathering up the items on the desk instead of bothering to escort the Hackett boy out of the room like he was supposed to.

Cassidy looks out into the hall, waiting for Officer Cooper before he left. He didn't want to leave the station by himself—that would be weird if people saw him alone.

Officer Cooper eventually exits the room, and Cassidy follows him.

"You feel like going back to the hospital, kid?"

He looks at the officer and nods. "They're gonna want us all to stay there for the next day or so, anyway."

"Yeah, yeah. Come on. I'll get you back."

"Thanks, Officer."

"No problem, Cassidy."

author's note
this is literally just a
revised version of the
prologue bc i'm bored
and i now have writer's
block after posting the
previous chapter and now
this one

12.23.22