The Wolf of Los Angeles

Chapter 1: Dinosaur Blood

Dawn broke with a piercing howl.

Hawk woke abruptly from his sleep, instinctively rolling out of bed and pressing himself against the wall. He edged cautiously toward the window and peered outside.

The dry, yellowed grass was empty, and mist shrouded the distant lake.

The howl came again—a distinct cry of a North American coyote.

This isn’t the prison where they held me! Hawk thought, withdrawing his gaze with suspicion. He quickly surveyed his surroundings.

A rough and dilapidated wooden cabin shielded him from the cold wind. Thick cobwebs blanketed the raw timber beams holding up the roof.

The air was chilly. Hawk grabbed a thick coat nearby, noticing the words "Exclusive to the ‘Singing Detective’ Production Crew" printed on it.

Looking around, he spotted a pristine newspaper and two documents on the wooden table in front of the fireplace.