A sharp rap at the door roused Frederick "Francis" Aberline from his muddled thoughts, causing his eyes to narrow as he called out to whoever was knocking. "Come in."

The door to his office opened slightly, and Hopkins' head appeared from behind it. Inspector George Hopkins had recently been promoted to the Central Office division at Scotland Yard after the death of Inspector Harrison Carter. Now, he worked directly under Chief Inspector Aberline, a man whom he had admired for many years and had the pleasure of working with on occasion in the past.

"Sorry to bother you, sir, but...," his voice lowered to a whisper, "she's back again."

Inspector Aberline pursed his thin lips and rolled his eyes in annoyance. He was already having a headache that day, and he did not need it to become a full-blown migraine.

Hopkins took notice of his superior's aggravated demeanor and nodded his head in understanding. He and everyone else at Scotland Yard were in agreement—the Conliffe woman was starting to become rather a bit of a pain. For the past several weeks she had come in to see the inspector, spouting on about important issues that, when asked to elaborate on, she would not discuss further. She had demanded to speak only to Aberline. Really, there was nothing more that the woman could tell them; the case had already been closed—the maniac responsible killed and done away with. London and the village of Blackmoor were just beginning to move on from the tragedies that befell them. No one wanted her stirring up what need not be stirred up.

"What shall I do with her, sir? Send her away like the other dozen or so times?" he said lightly, smirking at his small jab. Aberline sniffed in response, but his face still remained strained. To Hopkins, he appeared rather haggard.

The inspector sighed as he opened a desk drawer and placed the folder that he had been reading inside. "I suppose I could humor her this one time," he said, closing the drawer and returning his gaze to the severed head staring expectantly back at him. Of course, he knew that the head was not actually severed, and that Hopkins' body was most likely huddled against the other side of the door, but the imagery still caused him to grimace. Lately, his thoughts had been taking a turn for the morbid, which he supposed was to be expected after last month's ordeal.

Hopkins saw the grimace and brushed it off as another of the inspector's headaches. "Very good, sir. I'll send her in." He gave a short nod and closed the door.

Aberline stared at the dark oak for several seconds, and then turned in his chair so that he was able to look out the large window of his office. His eyes traveled skyward, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. The grey London sky was, as usual, looking rather dreary, and in the distance he could see several dark clouds rolling in, bringing with them the promise of rain. Perhaps that was the cause of today's headaches.

The sound of the door opening behind him made him shift frontward in his chair, and his sharp eyes honed in on the black-clad woman with pinned up dark brown hair. Without speaking, he gestured to the chair in front of his desk. Miss Conliffe nodded at his invitation and sat down obediently.

Aberline continued to stare at her, tongue in cheek. She stared back at him, and he couldn't help but want to retreat away from the overwhelmingly determined look in her eyes.

"Hello, Inspector. Admiring the beautiful London weather?" she asked conversationally.

Aberline could hear the thinly concealed derision in her voice, and he huffed in response. "What do you want, Miss Conliffe? Why are you so adamant in coming down to Scotland Yard every other day to speak with me? Surely you do not find me that interesting." He saw her swallow, and for a brief moment she glanced away. He was making her uncomfortable. Good. Maybe she would finally get the hint and never bother him again. But he knew that was only wishful thinking.

"You know why I come," she said, looking him square in the face once more.

Aberline felt his jaw clench. "You come to tell me about superstition. Fantasy and witchcraft," he said condescendingly.

"I come here to warn you, Inspector," she said, raising her voice in irritation. Her eyes shown bright with renewed determination. "I've been trying to contact you, but you have spurned me each time. You know what tonight brings."

The inspector sighed wearily. "Yes, I am aware of the full moon tonight. That's all every bloke from London to Blackmoor has been raving about. What of it?" he asked, trying to sound disinterested, if only just to anger her further.

Gwen's lips parted, and then closed. She was struggling to control her annoyance with the flippant inspector. "Is your memory so clouded from that night, exactly one month ago, that you cannot see what tonight's full moon will bring?" she said through grit teeth.

Aberline's eyes flared with anger and he lurched forward unexpectedly, slamming both hands on his desk. "Lawrence Talbot is dead!" he hissed. Gwen flinched at his outburst, and the inspector reigned in his anger and leaned back slowly into his leather seat. Regaining some control over the situation, he spoke again in a more level tone. "There is no danger. Neither here, nor in Blackmoor. You need to see that, Miss Conliffe. You must get past this, as I have done."

"No," she countered, gathering her courage from earlier. "It is you who needs help seeing, Inspector. Lawrence Talbot was a cursed man. He was bitten by the wolf on the full moon. You—"

"I," he ground out, "was bitten, yes. But that does not mean anything. Lawrence Talbot, assuming he was afflicted by some... gypsy," he spoke the word acidly, "curse, was given it by his father, whom, from my understanding of things, had long since been afflicted. Now, who is to say that this so-called curse is nothing but the product of genetics? Inheritance passed on only in the bloodline?"

Gwen considered the inspector's explanation. She supposed it could be valid. She wanted it to be. But it was still only a theory, and she was not willing to risk the safety of London on a theory.

"That is certainly possible, I suppose, but Inspector, even you must admit that is just based on assumption. There is no evidence that that is how the curse works."

"And is there any evidence disproving it?" he countered smugly, lifting a challenging eyebrow.

Gwen shook her head. "Please, just for tonight, take some precautions. I have a suitable place in my shop that would surely be adequate—"

"What?" Aberline asked incredulously. "Are you saying you plan to lock me up in some cage? Are you mad?"

"Just for tonight," she assured him quickly, putting her hands up in front of her. "Please, just humor me, Inspector. If you are right, and you are not infected with the curse, then I'll let you out. But if you are..."

"I am not!" he shouted, the vein in his forehead bulging underneath his wan skin. He stood abruptly from his chair and strode past her and over to the door of his office. He gripped the handle tightly and turned back to her. "I think you should leave, Miss Conliffe. I am a very busy man, and I do not need the ramblings of a clearly disturbed woman distracting me from my work."

"'Disturbed?'" Gwen repeated disbelievingly.

"Yes, disturbed. Now please, remove yourself from my office."

Gwen stared at him with wide eyes, before lowering them to her lap in defeat. She had tried to make him see reason; now she could only pray for the lives of Londoners as they walked the streets that night.

Silently, she stood and walked over to where the inspector was standing vigil at the door. As she approached, he twisted the knob and opened the door, allowing her passage through. She took one step before turning to look the inspector in his stormy blue eyes. "Please, just tell me one more thing," she whispered to him, aware that there were other people walking about in the hallway outside the room.

"What?" he asked, not even trying to hide his annoyance at her request.

She stared at him a moment, taking in the details of his face. He appeared gaunter since the last time she saw him. There were bags under his eyes, making him appear like he had been going days without sleep. His skin, she had noticed earlier, was slightly more pale than the average Londoner.

"Have the nightmares been keeping you awake?" she asked him cryptically. Had she not been standing right in front of him, she might not have caught the way his eyes widened for barely a fraction of a second, before returning to their natural hard glare.

"Good day, Miss Conliffe," he said coldly.

A second passed between them, until finally her steel grey eyes left his, and she ducked out of his office. Aberline's eyes followed her, and he closed the door when he saw her call for the lift to take her down to the ground floor. Once he was back in the seclusion of his office, he leaned against the door and ran a hand through his auburn hair. His headache was returning with full force.

In that moment, as he stood there, eyes closed, his back against the door, he desperately wished that it was the next day—just to get this whole thing done and over with. But when he opened his eyes, he felt a pang in his chest when he found that he was still standing in his dimly lit office, with the light from the London sky filtering in through the large window, growing steadily darker with the approaching dusk.

With a sigh, he propelled himself from the door and made his way over to his chair. As he sat down, he looked over to the wall clock.

Only four more hours till sundown.

Hope you guys enjoyed! I wrote this immediately after I rewatched the movie. I love werewolves, and the movie inspired me to write a story based on these characters. I don't think I'm alone when I say that I wished they had made a sequel following Aberline. Seriously, a werewolf working at Scotland Yard? Who wouldn't want to see a movie about that? Well, I'm not sure how often I will be updating this. I'm a spastic writer, meaning when I get in the mood, I can pump out content like nobody's business, but if I lose the motivation, it's lost for quite a while. Hopefully this will get enough support and reviews to keep me attentive. I will say though, that I have two more chapters written, but I'm going to wait a bit between posts so that I can have a somewhat regular waiting period between each chapter. Have a good day!