by J. L. Hickey
“I’m sorry you saw that. What’s your name,” asked Clent?
“Aaron, sir,” he stammered.
“How do you know Vanessa? The victim in the home?”
“Haylee called Vanessa after some shit went down at her place,” he explained. “The woman in the house, her name is Jeanie.”
“Okay, wait, what shit went down? Is everyone okay?” he asked.
“Obviously not, Jeanie,” Aaron replied.
“Back at Haylee’s home, they OK?” Clent corrected himself.
“I think. We didn’t know who to call. Lydia got sick, started freaking out, talking like she was possessed or something. Vomiting everywhere, way worse than me. Fuckin’ freakin’ out, screaming, lashing around, like a scene out of the Exorcist. She said we couldn’t call an ambulance, she…” Aaron was barely breathing, spewing forth all this information incoherently.
“Calm down, just tell me where Officer Velasquez went. We can hash out the details later.” Clent pulled out his cell, attempting to ring Vanessa one more time.
“Behind the house, into the woods. She followed the man I saw.”
“Why isn’t she answering her phone?” Clent hung up, pocketed his phone.
“She left it in the car,” Aaron explained.
“God-damnit, son-of-a-bitch. What is she thinking?” Clent grabbed his radio, “631 I have a code one. I need responding units to set up a perimeter. Central, get me a dog and see if MSP can scramble the Bird for an overhead. Give me a five-mile radius around 1981 Orr Road, suspect Gary Thom is on foot. Off-duty Officer Vanessa Velasquez is in pursuit. She entered a heavily wooded area south behind the home, chasing the suspect.” Clent looked at Aaron. “Was he armed; the man headed into the woods?”
“He had something in his hands. A bag, and something else, like a crowbar or a hammer,” Aaron explained.
“OK, stay here. I want you to go in the vehicle, lock the doors until back up arrives,” Clent ordered. “Do you understand? Detective Pike should be here soon. I’m going to go check out back.”
“Yes, sir,” Aaron got to his feet.
Clent made his way around the back of the residence. Two sets of footprints made their way into the forest behind the home. A small trail of blood, thick droplets followed with the prints. Perhaps the perp was injured, or worse, Vanessa. But, no, that couldn’t be. Vanessa was on the chase. She hadn’t struggled with the man. If he was injured, they might just get the son of a bitch.
He wouldn’t get far, and he wouldn’t outrun Vanessa. Oh shit, maybe the sick freak had the head of the woman from the basement? Clent pushed aside the thoughts. He had to wait, despite wanting to give chase. He needed to secure the area, wait for backup, set up a point. He checked his watch. Pike should be here soon, any fucking minute. Once he showed up, he would be ready.
“Fuck, hurry up,” he began to pace.
. . .
Vanessa was on foot, close behind the suspect. She could hear him running through the foliage. She was able to catch a glimpse of him through the trees, his head bobbing up and down as he traversed the snowy landscape. He was running with two items in his hands, a sack with its bottom wet. This was the cause of the blood droplets on the snow. In the other, his right hand, he had a blunt object, a claw hammer.
Velasquez’s chest was heavy, her lungs burned, but she did not stop her pursuit. The manhunt ended tonight. Justice would be served. He was fast, not seeming to tire, and yet, her legs burned. Thankfully the blood trail made him easy to track. She followed it to a small clearing. A derelict building came into view—some sort of run-down hunting lodge or cabin.
Gary was nowhere to be seen, gone. He was possibly hiding within the deserted hunting lodge. She spotted the blood-stained burlap sack sitting out in the open a few yards in front of the building. It was the one he was carrying. Vanessa held her firearm steady, kept her eyes on her surroundings. She approached the sack, kneeled, pulled it open, pouring the contents out into the snowy earth. It contained two severed heads, both female, one younger, she guessed in her thirties. The other an older woman, grey-haired, wrinkled skin. Her stomach heaved; she held it down, composed herself. She wouldn’t allow herself to get sick this time.
Velasquez heard a noise within the building, approached it slowly. Her gun drawn.
“Hello? Gary? Exit the building. I’m armed!” she yelled.
She saw something move from within the darkness. A large oblong-shaped head curiously poked out from the shadows, behind the opening of the building.
“Exit the damn building!” she yelled again.
Two bright red eyes peered from the darkness, and they were spellbinding. Velasquez stared into them, losing her thoughts in the beauty of them. A fuzziness crawled up her body like ghostly fingers. Her mind befuddled, her surroundings began to blur together.
What was she looking at?
What was this thing?
Fear swelled up in her throat; she knew it wasn’t right; this thing, the red eyes, stealing her breath from her. Her arms went heavy. Her gun fell between her feet. Vanessa was frozen, knees locked in place. Was it from fear? A trance? She tried to make sense of it, any of it, but she couldn’t. Why was she unable to move? What was she looking at?
What the fuck was happening to her?
From the side of the building came Gary Thom, a bloody hammer in his right hand. He looked at her with a sick twisted smile across his face. He approached, carefree, the hammer swinging at his side, covered in blood from head to toe.
“Hello,” Gary spoke, his voice calm, relaxed. “Don’t worry. You can’t fight it. Mother likes you. I wanted to stick the hammer into your brain, but when she saw you walk up. She fell for you. Pretty, pretty. She will have you as she had me. Maybe you will call her Daddy instead of Mother. She is both, you know? She is all everything. You will be a part of her, just like me. A family, brother, sister, mother, father.”
Vanessa tried to bend down, reach for her gut. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t break the gaze of the glowing eyes. Her brain was telling her one thing, but her body was not listening.
“It’s better this way, Mother will love you,” Gary walked up in front of her. He grabbed one of the heads. It was Jeanie’s. He tossed it closer to the building. The glowing eyes moved forward, away from the shadows, closer to the daylight.
“She is so beautiful,” Gary’s mouth stretched from ear to ear.
A tall, lanky creature broke into the natural sunlight. Horrorstruck, Vanessa couldn’t scream, her throat seized, her body shook. Frozen, unable to move, she watched in a trance as the creature made itself known.
The thing, its grey skin rotted, dangling loosely from its ghastly frame. Exposed bones were protruding through the most rotten parts of its body—the smell of it, decay, rotten flesh. The odor settled in Vanessa’s throat; she could taste the death. The creature’s oblong head cocked quizzically at her; its huge antlers spiked into the sky.
A grotesque freak of nature.
It crawled towards her, its belly nearly touching the earth, its massive saggy tits dragging into the snow. It sniffed the decapitated head. Snarled with satisfaction. Its tongue hung from its sharp jaded teeth; thick hot drool dripped onto the snow. The creature took the head into its palm; its long boney fingers plucked one of the eyes out of the head. It swallowed it down. It did the same for the second eye. Next came the tongue, plucked from the mouth with ease.
“The best bits,” said Gary, watching while his Mother enjoyed the fruits of his labor. He was rubbing himself between his legs, moaning sexually. “Next comes the brains,” his mouth salivated. Despite his stomach full of the older woman’s flesh, he hungered for the brain
s.
The creature cracked the skull with ease. It devoured the brains, slurping it up with its long-wet tongue. The creature looked over to Gary. It purred loudly, lovingly.
“I’m glad you enjoyed,” he said, his voice soft.
The creature took the second head; this one belonged to Jeanie. It tossed the head to the feet of Gary.
“For me?” Gary’s eyes lit up. “But you must eat.” He lifted the head up, staring into Jeanie’s lifeless eyes. “Thank you, mother.” Gary dug his thumb into one of the eye sockets. He plucked out the left eye. Plopped it into his mouth, bit into its tenderness. He moaned, the sweet taste overcoming his body. He fell crossed-legged into the snow. He chewed slowly, savoring every ounce of it before swallowing and going for the second eye.
The creature now turned its attention back to Vanessa. Still, she was transfixed there, watching in agony. The creature moved forth, its head, resembling that of a half decomposed deer, hovered an inch from her nose. The creature sniffed her long, taking in her scent, smelling the fear. Its hot wet tongue drug across her cheek. Wet, rough on her skin. The stench was god-awful, putrid.
The creature purred loudly once again. It turned back towards the hunting lodge, Vanessa found herself following it. Her legs were moving on their own accord. Her instinct was to flee, to run, but her brain was not working. Her body ignored her instinct to flee. She entered the building.
She moved towards the creature who took a seat in the darkest corner. She moved closer, her hands now undoing her belt, she pulled down her jeans. Vanessa wanted to cry, to scream, but she did neither of those things. Instead, Vanessa gave her body over to the creature. She allowed it inside of her.
The last thing she remembered was its deathly breath on the back of her neck and a sudden flash of pain in her midsection.
Then blackness.
FIFTY
“Thank god you’re here,” Clent shouted from the back yard, running towards Detective Pike.
“Clent, what’s going on?” Pike exited his vehicle. He took note, two civilian cars, one he recognized as Vanessa’s. Clent’s cruiser parked adjacent to them both, still running. Inside of Vanessa’s car, sat the kid, Aaron, a friend of Haylee. His face white, sickly. He did not open the car door. Instead, he rolled down the window.
“Detective,” Clent’s voice was rushed. He filled in Pike with the details. The request for a K-9, a helicopter, and the five-mile radius. Suspect Gary Thom was on foot in the woods. Backup called and on its way.
“Your girl has some balls,” said Pike. He spat out the chewing gum from before. Popping in a fresh piece. “Fuck, I need a smoke.”
“Don’t stop me,” Clent warned. “I’m not waiting for back up.”
“Don’t be dumb, we need the dogs,” replied Pike. “We have a protocol to follow.”
“They are on their way,” Clent pulled out his Maglite and his service pistol. “You’re here now. Vanessa went in solo with a mad man. There is a clear trail of blood. I can follow it. I’m not asking. Fine me, fire me, whatever.” Clent turned his back.
Pike sighed, but he did not stop Clent. Backup was ten minutes out. He looked at the kid.
“We need to talk.”
. . .
Clent didn’t wait for Pike to object. He needed to get to Vanessa. He broke into the thicket of the forest following the two sets of fresh footprints and a blood trail. It shouldn’t be hard to track. Time was of the essence. If he waited another ten minutes for the backup, it could easily be too late. Pike was there. He ran the show. This god-damn piece of shit Gary was a lunatic, and he had been living in the woods for over a week. Vanessa, even if she had her firearm, was out of her element.
He moved as fast, careful not to lose the tracks, following the blood. Was Gary injured? If so, he would be moving slow. Perhaps Vanessa would catch up to him. He half expected to meet up with Vanessa, gun drawn on Gary, working their way back to the home. Vanessa was a tough S.O.B., and she could hang with the men on the force, take some of them out even.
She would be fine.
Clent had been in the woods for what seemed like eternity. He’d lost track of time. He came to a clearing. A large, broke down cabin came into view. He stopped, caught his breath, steadied his hand. He turned off the Maglite, raised his firearm, and closed in. He sat at the edge of the clearing, scoping out the scene. A man sat with his back to him, sitting cross-legged in the snow, hunched over. Vanessa nowhere to be seen.
It was him. It had to be.
“Freeze!” Clent broke through the clearing. He lined up his shot, center mass. “Arms up!”
The man stood up. Turned to him. It was Gary. Both his arms above his head. Clent circled him. His firearm centered on his chest. Gary’s face came into view. Between his feet was the head of a young woman. Her eyes tore from her head, and it looked as if Gary had been gnawing on the victim’s tongue. He had been eating it when Clent interrupted.
“Jesus, fuck,” Clent cursed. “On your stomach, face down!” Clent demanded, his weapon not wavering.
Gary looked at him, dead square in the eyes. No fear, no worry. He smiled through the crimson mask of his victims’ blood. Gary lunged; the hammer wielded high in the air. He took two steps before Clent got off three rounds square into the man’s chest.
Gary fell over, his body crumbled into the snow.
“Stay down!” Clent ordered. He approached Gary, kicking the hammer behind him. Gary laid on his back with three holes in his chest. He coughed up blood, spraying it into the snow. His breathing labored, his eyes glossing over. He was dying fast. He tried muttering something, but it only came out in gurgles of blood. He took his last breath staring at Clent, looking for the first time like a human and not a bloodthirsty monster.
Clent never heard the soft approach from behind him. His adrenaline was pumping. The sight of Gary dying in front of him, taking in his last breath, making sure the danger was over, kept him distracted. He let his guard down. A fatal assumption that Gary was the only threat.
He was wrong.
Vanessa had come from the hunting lodge. She approached silently while Clent was checking for the pulse of Gary Thom. Vanessa had watched the scene go down. Watched Client kick the hammer behind him, out of Gary’s reach. Vanessa approached it, picked it up. She heard her partner mutter to himself something about Gary being gone. She heard him sigh. She was closer to him now, standing only a few feet behind, she could hear him breathing heavy, the smell of his cologne lingered towards her.
“Nice shot,” Vanessa spoke plainly.
“Jesus,” Clent jumped. He spun halfway around before the contact of the hammer struck his right temple. A bright red flash exploded in his head. A sick cracking noise thundered from his skull as the first blow dropped him to the snow-covered earth. He fell backward. His vision blurred; his body too heavy to move. Vanessa stood above him, hammer in her hand.
He tried to call out her name. He tried to lift his hands to protect himself. He could do neither. His life was about to be snuffed out in the snow-covered Michigan woods. His partner smiled before delivering one more swift blow to the top of his head. His skull cracked, and chunks of his brain spilled onto the snow.
The urge for human flesh consumed her. Clent, her onetime partner, now dead, meant nothing to her than a meal. His blood covered the snowy clearing. Her mouth salivated at the sight of his spilled grey matter.
Loud barks came from the woodland. Vanessa, emotionless, popped her head up before getting to taste the sweet flesh. She sensed the danger; felt it in her blood. She would not get to taste her hunt. She had to flee, flee with Mother. Deeper into the woods, deeper into the dark. They would hide, hide in the shadows. Retreat into the depths
of the wild. She would be patient; she would feast when the time was right.
Vanessa fled. The Hunting Lodge was no longer safe.
FIFTY-ONE
“Aaron!” Haylee jumped out of the passenger seat. She ran, wrapping her arms around his massive frame. It was good to hold him in her arms, safe, secure. He returned the hug, his strong arms gripping her tight. He was trembling. Haylee wanted to wash away his pain. It was evident by the look on his face, something horrendous happened. His skin was pale, eyes sunken in their sockets. He smelled of sweat and vomit.
“You OK?” she asked.
“I will be,” he did not let her go.
Haylee’s former home was surrounded by police cruisers. Their lights flashing brightly, lightening up the dreary grey-washed sky. Officers and paramedics were everywhere. An ambulance was further down the driveway, its back end open.
“Where is Jeanie?” Lydia exited the vehicle.
“People, this is a crime scene,” An officer approached, waving his hands to get back. “We’re still setting up the area. I need you all to get back into your vehicle and leave the premise.”
“Where is she?” Lydia ignored the officer. “Aaron, where is Jeanie?”
“I got this,” Pike walked up from behind a group of police cars. He patted his officer on the shoulder. “Let’s get that yellow tape up, block this entire yard off as well.”
“Yes, sir,” The officer nodded. He went on his way.
“Detective?” Lydia frowned. “What’s going on?”
“I asked you to stay put,” he said.
“Well, we didn’t,” Lydia frowned.
“What’s going on?” Haylee interjected.
“There’s been another murder,” Pike answered stone-faced. “I’m afraid it was your friend. We found her purse with identification. She had a tape recorder, other belongings, including her wallet.”