The man’s eyes widened. “Please take a seat,” he said, gesturing to the seats around his desk.
We did as he’d requested, watching as he picked up a phone and dialed a number.
“Three people are here regarding the incident at the school,” he murmured, looking over us once more. “Can you see them now? Okay.”
He put the phone down and beckoned us over again. Retrieving a ring of keys from one of the drawers in his desk, he got up and pushed open the narrow door directly behind him. “Alex,” he called inside.
A young man appeared in the doorway wearing a uniform.
“Take these people straight to Wilson’s office,” the bald man said. “He’s stayed late.”
Alex nodded and led us out of the room toward a flight of stairs. We climbed two levels up before stopping outside a door labeled twenty. He knocked.
“Come in,” a deep voice called.
Alex pushed the door open. We stepped inside and found ourselves in a small office, lit by bright strip lights. A tall man stood behind a narrow desk. He had grey-streaked hair and deep lines in his forehead.
The police officer held out a hand for each of us to shake. “Officer Wilson. Your names?”
Derek replied before Corrine or I could. “My name is Kyle Ardene. This is my wife, Claudia Ardene, and this is our friend, Ashley Novalic.”
I would have fought back a laugh at the mishmash of names Derek came up with had my stomach not been in knots. Corrine scowled discreetly.
The man’s gaze fixed on Derek. “Mr. Ardene, what can you tell me?”
“There will be another attack. Likely more than one. Schools need to be closed. Adults and children alike need to stay in their homes. Each household must be equipped with at least one gun.”
Before Derek could continue, Wilson held up a hand. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a camera and a mini-tripod.
“I’m going to record this, if that’s okay.” He set up the tripod so that the camera was pointed toward the three of us and pressed record. Then Wilson folded his hands on the table and leaned forward in his chair, watching Derek intently. “Please repeat what you just said.”
Derek acquiesced.
“How do you know this?” Wilson asked. A deep frown settled in on his face.
“By now you may have realized that there exist beings who are very different from you. Nonhuman, supernatural beings. The three of us are such beings. That’s how we know.”
Wilson’s frown deepened. He looked from Derek, to me, to Corrine, then back to Derek again.
After almost a minute’s pause, he said, “What exactly do you mean by… supernaturals?”
“The type the world has already seen in the news. Vampires. Witches…” Derek placed an arm around me. “My wife here is a vampire.” He caught my eye and nodded. I raised my lips and bared my fangs.
“Dear God,” Wilson whispered, gaping at me in disbelief.
“And Ms. Novalic here,” Derek said, gesturing toward Corrine, “is a witch.”
With a flick of a finger, she levitated a pen on the man’s desk into the air and made it do a twirl before setting it back down again. The man’s mouth opened and closed like a fish’s. He looked at the three of us as though he still couldn’t believe his eyes.
“And you?” Wilson said hoarsely, addressing Derek.
“My powers are not safe to display in this room.”
Wilson stood up, his legs shaking. “W-wait here, please. I need to make a phone call.”
We watched the man leave his office and walk into the adjacent room. I heard him pick up a phone and begin talking to someone—a superior of his, by the sound of it.
“That was really the first surname that entered your head for me?” Corrine muttered.
Derek ignored her, his eyes fixed on the door.
Wilson returned about twenty minutes later.
“I have spoken with my superiors and called for an urgent meeting.”
“Your superiors need to issue a warning nationwide,” Derek said, standing up. “And they need to do it as soon as possible.”
“When and where do you believe that they will strike again?”
“It’s impossible to say exactly when, but I’m certain that it will be soon. As to where, we don’t know. Hence, you must not delay in this.”
“Those black hooded people in the schoolyard footage, you say they are… witches?” Wilson asked, still looking as though he was in a daze.
“Yes. The worst kind,” Derek said, looking straight into the camera as though addressing Wilson’s superiors directly. “The best chance of surviving an attack by them is to shoot them through the palms. That’s where their powers emanate from.”
“And y-you three. Where have you come from?”
“That’s not important. Just understand that not all supernaturals seek to prey on humans. We are here because we want to help you.” Derek turned once more to the camera, his eyes boring into it. “You must heed our advice.”
“Mr. Ardene, you must come with me to headquarters. My superiors will have many more questions for you. We would like to conduct an extensive—”
Derek shook his head, cutting him off. “Perhaps in the future, but we don’t have time for that now. We just came to deliver this warning.” Derek held out a hand, gripping Wilson’s so firmly Wilson winced slightly. “I trust your superiors will make the right decision and do what is needed. Goodbye, Officer.”