CHAPTER 01

Noah Stilinski was a very busy man who took his job seriously even though most times things always seemed relatively normal as nothing much could go on in a little town like this.

But the thing was the 'most' times where something out of the blue happened with no rhyme or reason. Although times like these were few and far in between and were hardly re-occurring through the years he's been on the force, but every time it occurred it was always something that stomped him or wasn't in line with what he would call a 'natural' phenomenon.

He could remember what happened all those years ago, especially the event on the day his wife died and the incidents around it, so no matter how he looked at it, the present case gave him the same feeling.

While he wasn't a superstitious person, he was someone who trusted his instinct and that alone was enough for him to proceed with the utmost caution while paying the maximum attention to the most minute of details because if any of its precedence was anything to learn from, then this would likely be another case on the unsolved pile which he really hope wasn't.

No matter what, he would try his best on this seemingly unusually normal case. He didn't become a Sheriff not doing so.

He could really use a bottle of whisky anytime now.

Snapping himself from his daze, he refocused his attention on the 13 year old boy in his office and the 40-ish year old truck driver who brought him in.

"From the top if you will, please," He said addressing the truck driver without peeling his eyes from the kid.

"Aye, name's Giggs. Like I told the front lady, I was coming from the next town over since I was delivering some lumber to Old Wills', then two miles out, I almost ran into the kid coming straight out of Beacon County Natural Preserve. Sucker stood like a deer caught on Christmas Eve all frozen and scrawny looking. Lawd ha' mercy on the fella. He's been mute since I picked him up."

"God, I swear some people are just sick in the head, couldn't even pity a kid in whatever fucked up shit they been doing."

Hearing this, Noah couldn't help but furrowed his brows. It looked like it was more serious than he thought.

Looking at the boy who seemed out of it, he felt anger at this. While there was no outward sign of abuse on his face or posture, that didn't mean the boy didn't go through something revolting. Physical torture, while the most prominent of abuse, wasn't the only one. Based on the lost look on the boy, he'd reckon emotional abuse, neglect and abandonment or kidnapping.

First of all he had to check the kid's mental health, hopefully he was holding up, then he had to send someone to run by Giggs' alibi both in and out of town.

"Hey there son, think you can tell me your name?" He lightheartedly asked the kid who looked like he was going to answer as he scrunched his brows in contemplation.

He waited for a few moments before the kid looked up and shook his head. He immediately frowned at the sight of that. 

Amnesia: If that was the case, this was probably more serious than he thought. While he's dealt with a few amnesiac cases during his years, he could count them on one hand and still have spare fingers.

Different things could cause amnesia. A jolt to the brain with enough blunt force to not only cause physical damage but also disrupt the nerve endings of the hippocampus thereby keeping the episodic memories locked up without being able to access it. Recovering from something like this is quite easy, a jolt to the brain, while applying blunt force is not advisable as it can further damage the brain, it does sometimes work, or trying to jolt back those memories either by relieving past scenarios or staying in a tranquil environment which makes accessing the locked memories easier.

If it was this, then perhaps with time, the kid could remember. But try as he may, he couldn't see any signs of physical abuse anywhere on the boy's head which brings it to the worst part.

Amnesia stimulated by trauma. Now this where shit dodges the fan and books a premium suite on the ceiling.

Curing this type of amnesia requires not only time and extensive care but a subconscious acceptance of said trauma while not only requiring the consciousness of the brain to render the aforesaid trauma less traumatizing but also keeping the conscious mind tranquil. In other words, shit falls off the ceiling and hits the fan.

Putting a halt to his thoughts, he probed again, "Okay son, take it easy and try to remember your name. Slow breaths son. Slow breaths."

Once again he was met with a shaking head. Now this was troubling.

Forgetting something as instinctual as a name sometimes speaks volume on how deep rooted his amnesia was. He also checked for any signs of discomfort but found nothing expressible which more than likely means any trauma he might be suffering from was from an external source.

Venturing deeper, he tested, "What about where you are from? Remember deep breaths."

Hearing the soft inhales of the boy, he observed his expression.

Other than a few twitches of the brows which could be interpreted broadly, nothing else except the shaking head. "What about your parents? Can you remember them?"

Once again, a few twitches and nothing but he could see the small beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Just a little more.

He threw a deeper ball with the next question, "What about your home? Do you remember where you're from?"

Instead of the occasional twitch and maybe a shake of head, he got a sharp grunt which increased to shriek of pain.

He immediately rushed the kid in a warm hug to provide any sense of security he could while stroking his head, "It's okay son, it's okay."

"Whoa! Must have been shit where he came from," Solaced Giggs with a sad look on his face.

"Yeah figures. I'll put out an APB on the kid for a ten mile radius all the way to the borders. Hopefully we get a click but I'm not too optimistic about that."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because we don't know how long he's been missing or which state he's from. If it was recently then I think it's still in the works but if it was from a while back, at least a week, or if he was from around the neighboring towns and cities then I would have had word on a missing kid but…"

"No one's put up a call yet." Giggs interjected.

"Yeah, sigh, but before then we need to run a test on him first. I doubt hypothermia and malnutrition are the only things he suffered from. We still need to do a brain scan to know how worse his amnesia is."

"I hear ya'. You'll think that peeps still have at least the decency to spare a child, buh they just make it a lot harder for them lil' kids. Don't know what we turning the world to."

"Well Sheriff, thanks for the kid but I think I'll get out of ya hair for now. Still need to tow them lumber."

Noah shook hands with Giggs as he escorted Giggs out of the office with the little boy at his side. 

He took the little boy's hand and went to the front desk before he called out to the policewoman stationed there.

"Hey Simone, I need you to check if there's a BOLO for anyone with a description that matches this kid for a 10 mile radius." Turning to leave, he paused at the door and continued.

"When you're done, take him to the hospital to get him checked up for any signs of illness or diseases he might have gotten from exposure, also for hypothermia and amnesia." Saying that he turned to the kid who was quietly looking around and said.

"Son, do you think you can wait here with her so she can get you checked up?" He asked as he didn't know if the kid would be okay with meeting too many new people within a short span of time in order not to get him riled up. But to his relief the boy simply nodded his head in affirmation.

Looking over the boy once more for any signs of discomfort or agitation, he nodded at both Simone and the kid before going back into his office to go through any recent kidnapping and missing persons reports while also making some calls.

Today was going to be a long day and he knew it. He just couldn't wait to get home and drink away his frustrations, and maybe listen to his son's ramblings.

… 

He didn't know how but he could understand these people. He didn't really understand what they were saying but he replied in the most primitive way he could. What did his answer mean? What did they ask? He didn't know. 

He didn't know but he could understand. He worked on instinct, replied with what came first to his mind. While he didn't fully understand what language they spoke, he knew what they meant. 

His name.

His parents.

Where he came from.

He tried to know more, to understand more but he just couldn't. So like every primal beast of instinct, he left himself to nature. Since his first memories came in flashes, maybe in time he would see the images and then fully remember who he was.

He looked just in time for him to see a syringe pierce his skin and draw his blood. He didn't know why but none of this made him panic. He was more panicked in the truck than he was in the presence of these strangers.

Doctors.

That lone thought gave him the assurance he needed. He didn't understand what the term 'doctors' meant but it was there. The assurance that these 'doctors' wouldn't hurt him. It was the same way he felt in 'station'. He hoped he would remember soon.

While he soliloquized inwardly to himself, far into the hospital, in a dimly lit room, sat a man on a wheelchair, with burn scars marring half his face. He sat there with a lifeless look in his eyes. 

Perhaps the only indicator that he was alive was his slow beating heart. Right at that moment his heartbeat sped up and light returned to his dead eyes for just a moment.  His eyes shone, against all things natural, an azure blue that was most illuminating inside the dark room. After sometime, it went back to its normal blue eyes as it once again dimmed relating to its lack of consciousness. There he sat once more, no different from a dead man except for his beating heart. All his thoughts unknown to no one.

… 

While with the boy, all he did was sit and listen to what the 'doctors' were saying, trying to at least understand the meaning of the words they were speaking.

After he was done with his test, the female cop took him back to the precinct, straight to the Sheriff's office where she gave him the report that apart from starvation and relative amnesia, there was nothing wrong with him.

This could either be seen as good or seen as bad depending on circumstances. Hopefully he was kidnapped and then abandoned in a forest which would mean that he had atleast a family somewhere looking for him.

"Simone, I need you to tell Paul and Tallman to take some of the boys and search the woods around Beacon County Preserve with a 5km radius. If he was kidnapped and ran away, or was abandoned, they would have had to take him inside the forest to throw him away." Noah ordered. 

He then continued, "We need anything we can find. Trail marks, footprints, anything." He then let out a sigh. How in the hell were they going to get a trail leading to god-knows-where in the middle of a forest. They would have more luck finding a print of bigfoot than finding a supposed kidnapper's trail.

If he truly was kidnapped then this case would be solved pretty quickly once they put out word or heard a reply from their neighbors but if he was just abandoned then that in itself was just damning the case even further.

"Were there any clicks on the blood scan?" Noah asked since if by any chance the kid was from Beacon Hills then he might have had a blood test through the years and since the hospital kept records then he would be able to identify whose kid this was.

"Negative sir." Replied Simone, who then turned to leave in order to fulfill the Sheriff's command.

Seeing her leave, he once again heaved a sigh.

"I really need a bottle right about now."

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