The police station. That's safest.

Luckily your college is in the middle of town - so you're already most of the way to the nearest police station. You'd like to say you know where it is out of purely innocent reasons... but you might have been caught egging houses when you were younger.

A couple of times.

Still, it's nothing to get a record for, and even if you did have one, the cops must have more important things on their hands right now. They're hardly likely to arrest you for being a juvenile delinquent. So the station it is.

You wait for an opportune moment - unfortunately the man out there is greedy enough that he's content to watch the writhing pile of bodies in front of him and not the two girls pleasing his cock. Finally, after what seems like hours, he pushes the girls in front of him around, and studies the thick asses shaking up at him. Just pick one already!, you think, then try not to feel too guilty about wishing he'd hurry up and fuck one of them.

Eventually, he chooses, and at last as the chosen girl's squeals become the loudest sound out there the man appears distracted enough that escape might be possible. You push the door, slowly, petrified that it might creak and give you away, but for once today you're in luck and you slip out of the shop without drawing any attention. Hugging the wall, heart pounding, you move away from the scene. You're not sure exactly what would happen if you were caught... but it would probably involve being "invited" to join in. For some reason that doesn't appeal to you.

It's only when you get to a corner and dart around it that you feel safe enough to stand up. The sounds behind you that propelled you onward are muted, for now. You rise up from your half-crouch, dusting yourself off and trying to shake what remains of the dirt from your hair. You're free.... for the moment. Free of... whatever power that man has. Free of the possibility he could have affected you, too.

A few - empty - streets later, the worry building in the back of your mind becomes a certainty. There's another cloud of dust rising into the air ahead of you, and it looks suspiciously close to the tall building that the police department uses. The helipad on top looks like it's had a corner clean shaven off; as you get closer still, you can a few connecting struts, hanging in the breeze. You walk a little faster, and as you round the corner of one street you see the smoke rising from the side of the police building on the corner of a crossroads up ahead.

While you walk towards it, you consider - it'd explain at least why you haven't seen any cop cars roaring down the road towards the crash site if they're dealing with one.... and the other effects of one... in their own backyard. Still, though, they might have an idea what the hell is going on around here.

Your mind made up as you reach the tall wooden doors up the short steps to the station, you climb up and heave one of them open.

To your relief, there's someone inside the reception area. Even better; that someone is a cop, a woman in full uniform sitting behind the desk glassed off along one wall. Around you, the few empty benches, a noticeboard with mostly lost cat notices and a couple of flyers for local events, speak to a town that's usually remarkably crime-free and normal.

Usually.

You rush up to the counter, and the cop behind it looks up from her paperwork as you approach and looks you over. "Yes? Can I help you, ma'am?"

You open your mouth - and realise you have no idea how to explain what's going on.

Tapping her pen against the desk, the cop waits for you to speak, a look of polite boredom on her face. You try to martial your thoughts, but her disinterest piques your attention. Surely she should at least be worried about the smoking hole in her building?

For the lack of anything more sensible to say yet, you ask her about it, and she looks at you sceptically. "You're saying there's a hole in the station?"

"Yes!"

"In the roof? And you're saying that... a meteorite crashed into it?" She clearly isn't taking what you're saying seriously, but your agitated state seems to be getting through to her... even if she probably just thinks you're on ****. You think about trying to explain it again but before you can she raises a judgemental eyebrow and stands up. "Tell you what. I'll go out back and have a look for myself, ok? You just wait here." With a gesture to the benches on your side of the glass, she vanishes swiftly through a door in the wall beside her.

Shuffling across the smooth floor, you take a seat. At least when she comes back, you'll have someone on your side for this mess.

Unless....

Unless of course all you've done is sent her into the hands of someone like that man back there.

There's cells on the site, you know. You've seen them once before, years ago, when you came on a school trip. Even in a quiet town like this there's probably someone locked up back there. If that meteorite came down near the cells, and it was one of them it was nearest to....

Your train of thought is interrupted by a noise. A quiet noise, but a noise nonetheless. You strain your ears and listen.

There it is again. You look over to where it seems to be coming from. Over on one wall, alongside the separating windowed wall between the cop on duty and the main room, there's a slightly ajar door. It's set into the same wall as the one the cop walked through; if you had a look through it, you could probably see where she went, assuming it doesn't just lead off to a corridor going elsewhere.

You should probably wait, though. Cops aren't going to be happy with someone just wandering around their building, and it's probably not the best idea to tick off the only normal person you've seen since this started.

Of course... if you're worried, you could always just leave. You wouldn't get any help here, but maybe you'd be better of somewhere else, anyway. Even if that cop sees the crash site here, how are you going to explain the rest of it to her?