Perhaps it was the recent influx of horrible decapitation murders taking place in Fable Town at late, or it was the insane stalker with a relentless appetite for sexual violence and deadly roll play centred around his friend and "partner" Snow White that kept sleep from claiming him. Either way, sleep would not embrace him like it did everyone else. Sheriff Bigby Wolf shifted uncomfortably in his old worn armchair, his head resting on it's back as he stared lazy eyed at the peeling cream paint on his ceiling above.
Insomnia sucks.
It was well pasted 2 in the morning, his glass of Bourbon lay empty and abandoned next to countless empty bottles collected on his coffee table nearby. He had finished off his alcohol supplies hours ago and now it was just him sitting in the dark, alone with his thoughts. Bigby ran a calloused hand down his tired face, pressing his finger tips into his discoloured eyelids and feeling the pressure give little relief. He sighed heavily, his hand dropping to his leg like a weight.
The past few days had been a roller coaster of sorts, an emotionally draining, revelation filled, shitty roller coaster containing nothing but death and unanswered questions. He had done the whole nine yards, going from content to sad to angry to devastated to pissed to joyful and now he was just left confused. He was sick of people giving him the run around, he just wanted more answers and less questions!
Running his hand through his hair restlessly he stood up from his chair heavily, his body felt like lead, and sluggishly moved through his small, dingy apartment to the front door. Stepping out and locking up behind him he grabbed his packet of Huff n' Puffs from his pants pocket and lit himself a cigarette. He inhaled the smoke hungrily, the flavour he had grown to relish in, it was a bitter ashy taste with a sweet, slightly sour finish.
'Poetic' he thought absently, exhaling the smoke as he began walking down the apartment hallway towards the elevator. It was one of his few enjoyments in this world, despite all the bullshit Mundie spiel about the damage they do to your health, he luckily didn't have to worry; Fable benefits working at there best.
Bigby pressed the button to call the elevator, taking another drag of his cigarette as he waited for the painfully slow lift to make its way up to his level. His apartment level was silent, no one seemed awake at this hour. Lucky bastards.
The elevator arrived with a light 'ding' and the doors popped open smoothly, allowing him to step inside the empty Box. He pressed to button for the ground floor, blatantly ignoring the 'do not smoke' sign above.
He figured if he wasn't going to sleep like the normal residents of the Woodlands he wold get some work done, his way. Maybe without Snow around he could get the information he needs the way he knows how, and maybe, just maybe find a way to save her from a bloody story tale ending.
...
I'm sorry this chapter is a little short.