Laughing Jack: How To Put A Jack In The Box Back In The Box (Laughing JackxOC)

Chapter 4: Police Officer

"Excellent," the doctor remarked with a reassuring smile after completing Dylan's examination. "You're fortunate; it appears to be just a minor concussion. It could have been much worse. Remember to take it easy and avoid exposure to bright lights, loud noises, and excessive movement, as these may exacerbate your symptoms. It's crucial to refrain from any activities that worsen your condition during this acute phase."

Turning his attention to his computer to record notes, the doctor continued, "I'd like to schedule a follow-up appointment in a few days to ensure your continued well-being, Mr. Winters."

"Furthermore," he added, glancing back at Dylan, "during the initial 24 hours, it's advisable to refrain from medications that could increase the risk of bleeding, such as aspirin, ibuprofen, and naproxen sodium. You can safely use acetaminophen for pain relief during this time."

Dylan nodded appreciatively. "Of course, Doctor. I'll remember that," he affirmed softly as the doctor diligently took notes.Dylan gathered his belongings, their interaction concluding with the scheduling of his next appointment.

Putting on the sunglasses the doctor had given to block out the bright lights he headed out after he checked himself out signing the papers as he forged the signature of his mother since he knew she'd never show up and most likely didn't even know he hadn't returned home last night.

"You do know forging signatures are illegal." a stern voice says beside him. Dylan turns his attention to a police officer "Dylan Winters is it?" they asked crossing his arms

"Why does that matter to you?" he queried, his tone tinged with a hint of frostiness, as he set the pen down and turned to face the officer. Standing at a towering 6 feet 8 inches, the police officer in his 30s possesses an imposing presence that demands attention. His broad chest is emphasized by the snug fit of his uniform, hinting at the impressive strength and athleticism that lies beneath. With arms crossed over his chest, each muscle is defined, showcasing his physical prowess. Despite his height and formidable build, there's a striking attractiveness to his rugged features. A strong jawline frames a square face, with a clean shave. Piercing eyes, framed by a furrowed brow, exude a sense of determination and focus. Despite the seriousness of his demeanor, there's an undeniable allure to his commanding presence, leaving those around him unable to look away.

"There's no need to be so cold. Do you make a habit of forging a woman's signature?" the officer inquired, casting a scrutinizing gaze down at Dylan.

Dylan turned to face the officer, his expression unyielding. "Do you often insert yourself into matters that don't concern you?" he retorted. "But since you're so insistent, yes, I do. My mother doesn't mind, as long as it's done responsibly."

"Doesn't seem like your mother knows you're here," the officer remarked, his gaze fixed on Dylan, who let out a weary sigh.

"That's really not your business, is it?" Dylan replied, his tone curt. "If you're here to inquire about the clown, then focus on that. Let's not delve into unrelated matters," he added, adjusting his bag on his shoulder as he walked past the officer. He knew that discussing such events in a hospital setting wasn't ideal.

"Who said I came here to question you?" the officer queried, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at the younger boy trailing behind them.

"Why else would you know my name?" the boy countered, his tone flat and unfazed. "Besides, why else would an officer be here when there's a madman dressed like a clown on the loose, killing kids?"

"Fair enough. I'm here to inquire about what you witnessed. Would you mind accompanying me to the station?" the officer responded amiably, finding amusement in the kid's attitude.

"Yeah, no," Dylan retorted firmly. "I'm not keen on heading to a noisy, bustling station house with a concussion. And if you didn't catch on, I got hit by a car. Frankly, I'm not inclined to chat with an officer, especially after the last one on the phone didn't take me seriously," he added, his tone taking on a slightly harsh edge. Dylan doubted the officer would believe him even if he explained his situation; they'd likely dismiss him as crazy.

"Well, frankly, you're the only living witness, Mr. Winters, so we'll have to question you," the officer retorted as Dylan made his way out of the hospital.

Dylan winced slightly as the sunlight hit the snow-covered ground, intensifying the brightness. After a moment, he responded, his tone cold and resolute. "Actually, I don't have to. I have the constitutional right to remain silent. Even if you arrest me right here and now, you wouldn't have the authority to question me," he stated firmly, making it clear that he had no intention of engaging with the officer.

"Well, well, you seem well-versed in the law," the officer remarked, his tone tinged with frustration. "This is going to be more challenging than I anticipated. But really, if you could just cooperate, it would make our job a whole lot easier, and we could bring this killer clown to justice."

"And risk being labeled crazy? No, thanks," Dylan retorted, his voice steady as he stood his ground. "Besides, even if I did tell you anything, you wouldn't believe me. So if you don't mind, I'm going home. My head is pounding, and I just want some peace and quiet."

"Fine, but I'm not giving up," the officer replied calmly, realizing the delicate nature of the situation. "Given that you're the only living witness, they might target you again. Please, take my card just in case, okay?"

Dylan accepted the card, glancing at the name "Officer Michaels" before slipping it into his jacket pocket. "Yeah, sure, if you insist. But don't get your hopes up, Officer Michaels," he replied calmly, adjusting his scarf. With that, Dylan turned to leave, leaving the officer standing outside the hospital in the bitter cold of winter in their small, pitiful town.