Secret of the Alpha

Detective Clifford Hamilton was in an elated mood tonight. The most anticipated victory of the past month had just been secured and now, he was just one step closer to becoming a lieutenant. Could there be any better news than this? His eyes began to feel dizzy as he drowned another shot of the whiskey in his throat. It caused a burning sensation as it made its way into his stomach, then the lingering feeling of satisfaction followed. He belched out in another moment and a satisfied grin crossed his face. From his vision which was now beginning to dull, he could make out the faces of three of his colleagues who had joined him in his drinking spree. Kevin Owens, the nerdy officer with glasses was seated on his far left trying to coax the barman into fixing him another shot even though it was obvious that he'd had enough. Tyler Hartman, who was perhaps the most experienced one amongst them having been in the force for almost fifteen years was seated by his right. He was the oldest amongst them and the most well-behaved. So far, Clifford thought he still looked very sober even after all the shots he'd had. A person could only achieve such a feat through experience. Then, the officer seated next to him was Charles Hilary, his closest companion, and friend. All along, Charles had watched the whole drama unfolding before him without having even as much as two shots. He was the perfect gentleman among them. Clifford tried to focus his eyes on the barman who seemed determined to make him crawl home with his hands. Even though his memory was hazy, he could still remember when he'd first stepped foot into the bar and how skeptical the barman had been about entertaining them as he was just about to lock up. The waving of crisp dollar bills in his face had changed his mind instantly and now, he was getting them drunk with reckless abandon. Clifford drank the last shot and stretched his hand toward the barman for a refill which he obliged to after a moment. As he lifted the shot to his mouth, his hand began to tremble and the glassware fell to the ground, shattering into many pieces. The rest of his companions were instantly attracted to the unwelcome sound they had just heard. Their stares followed the scattered glassware on the floor and refocused back on Clifford who had a blank look on his face. "What?" He blurted out sharply. "The damned thing had it coming anyway." Charles observed him for a moment, unable to put his thoughts quickly into words. Rather, what came out was, " Clifford, I think we should leave. You've had enough. Plus its almost midnight. We need to get home in time to get to work early tomorrow." Clifford gave him a lingering look and burst into a fit of laughter. "What? You think I'm drunk?" Another sarcastic laughter followed. "Would a drunk person do this?" In an instant, Clifford struggled to his feet and began to stagger. His friend had an understanding smile on his face. "That's it, Clifford. I owe it to you as your friend to get you off the street in one piece. Off you go." He rose to his feet and waved a 'goodbye' to the other officers on the bench. Then, he put his arm around Clifford 's shoulders and led him out of the bar. All his protests fell on deaf ears. Outside, the air was chilly and smelled of dead leaves in autumn. Clifford could barely see the road that lay ahead of him. Thankfully, his friend was strong enough to cling to his frame and hold him up while they took drudgery steps to the parking lot. The parking lot was deserted leaving only two police vans parked askew. Charles pulled Clifford to one of them. He made him lean on the car while he tried to open the door. The car made a beeping sound and clicked open. With an enormous surge of strength, he pulled Clifford to the other side of the car and dumped his body inside. He was barely awake now and was constantly mumbling words to himself. Charles heaved a sigh of relief as he turned over to take his seat on the other side. He turned on the ignition as soon as he was comfortable and the car revved to life. He drove out into the city. Clifford was still mumbling words to himself and every now and now, Charles looked over him with concern. There was not much to do. He could see that his friend was spent. But it was nothing that a good night and sleep could not fix. He drove in silence for almost fifteen minutes, tearing his way past the obscure part of town where they were and making his way to the suburbs. Then, he came to an abrupt stop before a roadblock. Charles looked with utter disbelief at what lay before him, then his gaze returned to Clifford who seemed suddenly sober. "What is it?" He asked, wide-eyed. Charles gulped hard, going over his next course of action in his mind. "There's a roadblock. We have to go through the other side of town." By that, he meant the side lined with woods and God-knows-what. For some reason, Clifford did not seem bothered even one bit. "Well then, go through with it." He said matter-of-factly. "What are you waiting for?" Charles opened his mouth to respond but thought better and closed his mouth again. Then, he stepped on the pedal and reversed the car. It looked like it was going to be a long night Ten minutes later, he was driving past the thick woods with a drunk man seated beside him. He turned on the volume on the car stereo to drown the mimicries of the forest creatures. It was giving him the creeps. Sia's Chandelier was blaring loudly from the car stereo. It gave him some sort of soothing effect. Suddenly, he felt a small tap on his shoulder. He turned to find Clifford staring wide-eyed at him. He shot him a questioning look at once. "Stop the car, now!" Clifford ordered. Charles gave him an adamant glare. "What's going on, Clifford?" But he was barely listening. He was staring at a glowing building just across from them. Charles squinted his eyes, trying to read the sign on the door. It said: We could all die tomorrow. Want to read your palms and tell the future? Stop by the Shaman's house to find out. He turned to look at Clifford, a puzzled look on his face. "What do you want to do in there?" Clifford gave a faint smile. "You wouldn't understand but you're welcome to come with me if you want." Before Charles could stop him, he'd jumped out of the car and had begun to walk into the glowing house.