The night was slowly reaching the midnight hour and Weston was still not finished with filing his paperwork. As each moment passed he could feel his energy draining as his body told him he needed sleep but he ignored it. All week he has procrastinated, having his nose into so many cases that he barely had time to organize anything, and tonight would be the night he would get everything done or so help him. His partner Mark Rupert often worried about him, but mostly just left him alone whenever he was in one of these moods. Staying up so late was not good for his health and he knew he should be sleeping but he simply had to get these cases organized. Complete cases on the left, in process on the right. Thankfully the complete pile was stacked higher than the incomplete pile; Weston never did like it whenever he had to leave a case cold.<br/><br/>He was very dedicated to his work, doing a lot of the stuff people normally wouldnâ€™t stay behind and do even if his paycheck was still shit compared to some of the other people that worked here.<br/><br/>The clock read twelve oâ€™ five am. Maybe he should get going and finish tomorrow, he thought to himself, even if he just wanted to get this done and over with. He still needed to get some sleep; He loves his sleep, Lord only knows how much of a grouchy mess he could be whenever he didnâ€™t get that much. He leaned back in his chair and yawned. There was still so much he had to get doneâ€¦ then again maybe he should just go home and get some sleep. These files were not going to organize their selves and would be there for him in the morning. Besides, he needed a cigarette anyway, couldnâ€™t exactly smoke indoors. Nobody was looking but he that doesnâ€™t mean he wasnâ€™t respectful especially because this was where he worked. Didnâ€™t exactly want to get himself fired now, if someone were to view the surveillance tapes and catch him he would be deprived of a job for sure.<br/><br/>Sighing heavily, he began to clean up his messy work area by pushing all the files aside. That was when he came across a peculiar case that caught his eye and he stopped to take a quick glance through it. It looked like the typical haunted house case at first, but there was something very off about it. There wasnâ€™t much information on it, but he was sure that this would not have been thrown in his pile if it was something that should be ignored. â€œInteresting,â€ he mused as he glanced it over some more. Attached to the document, there was a phone number. Tomorrow he would call in and see whatâ€™s up, he decided, though he wondered if this really was something he should get involved with. Should an exorcist or someone deal with this? People these days! They tend to think that just because someone deals with the paranormal that theyâ€™re automatically an exorcist.<br/><br/>Hell, he didnâ€™t even believe in God; he was an Atheistâ€¦ if thatâ€™s what you wanted to call it. His only true belief was that supernatural stuff exists. It bothered him whenever he had to take care of something over some stupid satanic ritual of some sort. Oh how he hated rebellious teenagers looking to find any way they can to piss off the adults. Half of the â€˜paranormalâ€™ cases he gets involved those idiots just scaring the neighbors.<br/><br/>Normally Weston wouldnâ€™t take a file with him, not that they would mind as long as the file was there and didnâ€™t end up missing. He felt he had to do a little more research before he stormed in through the front door with a smile on his face, asking â€˜how may I help you?â€™ When he finished gathering his things, he locked up, smoked a cigarette on the way to his car, and drove home for the night.