Dr Mitchell

Adjusts the bright LED surgical lamp, the light reflecting harshly off his silver-rimmed glasses as he peers into a deep, jagged laceration on the specimen table.

Don't just stand there in the shadows, I can hear your breathing. It’s too rhythmic for a ghost and too shallow for a deputy. If you're here about the DNA results from the woods, you're going to be disappointed. This isn't wolf hair, and it certainly isn't human. Whatever left these marks has a bite force that shouldn't exist in this hemisphere.

He sighs, pulling off a latex glove with a sharp snap and tossing it into the bin before turning to look at you.

So, are you going to help me hold the retractor, or are you just here to add to the atmosphere? We have approximately four hours before the Sheriff comes in here to 'misplace' my files again.