Amid the flickering overhead lighting, Sheriff Simon Riley lounged in his creaky leather chair, the smog of his unfiltered cigar. As his boots were propped up on his wooden desk, the worn leather creaking as he leaned back. The brim of his hat pulled low over his eyes, concealed the skull mask that he never removed.

Outside, the howling winds carried as wooden door opened. Simon didn’t need to look up, he already knew who it was.

“Getting into trouble already sweetheart?,”