The Chronicles of Beast and Man

by J. Charles Ralston

  "Hello?" Rod answered.

  Matthew sat there not saying anything at all.

  "Hello…you called me…who is this?"

  Rod didn’t have Matthew’s number stored. Matthew knew then that he would not say a word.

  "Hello…hello? Okay?" Rod finally said and hung up the phone.

  Why had Marcy been texting the sheriff Truex?

  If there had been a situation, why wouldn’t she have simply called 9-1-1?

  Something was certainly strange here. While trying to shed some light on everything, Matthew suddenly had a moment of clarity. He remembered that years ago in a conversation, Marcy mentioned that she and Rod had been in a relationship back in high school. It was all becoming painfully obvious now; Marcy was having an affair. Not only that, but she had chosen a man of the law to commit the awful acts with. Matthew knew that he was going to have to do something, but first he would have to make completely sure that he was correct. He doubted that there could be any other answer. If she and Rod were only chatting that would still be a threat to their relationship. If Marcy needed someone to talk to, she had him, and she had plenty of friends. There was no reason for her to be texting some cop/ex-boyfriend. Matthew was now thinking about how much pleasure he would get out of squeezing Rod Truex’s neck until he let out his last breath. Of course this was nothing more than a demented fantasy of anger. Matthew was not a violent person and had only ever been in a couple of fights, and those had been back in his college day. Matthew sat there in his dimly lit office running the situation through his mind over and over. He felt as if he might break down, he wanted to drop his head into his hands and let his emotion take control. Matthew had a hard time letting himself open up enough to trust anyone. He had no idea where this came from but it took a toll on every aspect of his life. He hadn’t had a lot of relationships before he found Marcy. She was ten years younger than him. He had met her when he moved to Medusa and started laying roots down here. She was sweet, kind and she was also very sexy. Marcy was Matthew’s trophy wife. When they met it had felt like his entire life had finally begun to make complete sense to him. In this single moment he felt that things were in question. What made Matthew worry the most was the fact that if his suspicious were correct, that meant that Marcy had been able to hide the whole thing from him without revealing the slightest hint of deceit.

  There is no time for this right now, I have work to do. I will confirm my suspicions later. Then I will take care of the whole mess. Matthew thought to himself. With that, he began looking over the blueprints he had been studying earlier. Still, the thought of Marcy having an affair remained in the back of his mind.

  Dawn officially broke the following morning at exactly five minutes after six. Freddy Alexander, on the other hand, did not rise until nine o’clock. His first class did not start until a quarter till ten, he had plenty of time to clean up and get ready.

  Once he had taken a shower, dressed, and fed his face, Freddy was out the door and headed for his recently fixed vehicle. His car might not be the nicest one on the block, but he certainly appreciated it. This appreciation had grown a little since the accident. Freddy walked down the side walk when suddenly a large dark figure stepped in his way. Freddy nearly ran right into the man. In fact, he had to stop his books from flying out of his arms. It was as if this man had literally appeared out of thin air. In one moment there was no one around but Freddy, the next moment the dark figure was there.

  Freddy looked up to see a large man towering over him. He was dressed in a long black trench coat and wore a tattered black, long brimmed hat. It was the kind of hat the villains always seemed to wear in the old western movies. The man looked down upon Freddy intensely, with great purpose. The man’s cold narrow eyes locked on to Freddy and wouldn’t remove their gaze. Freddy did not know what to do, he seemed helpless. He felt the need to flee despite the fact that the man had actually not done anything threatening at all. It was as if just being near this man was threatening enough.

  "Excuse me." Freddy said as he attempted to move around the large man.

  "There is a light that shines." The man said in a deep voice stopping Freddy in his tracks.

  "What?"

  "There is a light that shines from with inside of you. It is radiant; you shouldn’t let it go out." The strange man advised Freddy.

  Freddy was now only five feet away from his car, he had to keep moving and get away from this enormous stranger. Freddy wondered what insane asylum he had escaped from.

  "You need to understand what is there inside of you. Only you know the truth, and only you can use what has been given to you." The man said softly.

  Freddy then felt as if this man knew what he was talking about. It was like he had just revealed some secret that Freddy had been hiding from everyone. But that had not happened; this man had not unlocked any mystical door. This odd man knew nothing about Freddy, or how he chose to live his life. So why did it feel as if he knew more about him, then he did himself?

  His eyes were large and seemed to speak volumes even when his mouth was closed. Where had this man came from, and why did he deliver such a cryptic message to Freddy?

  "I don’t understand?"

  The man continued to gaze down upon him. "You will."

  With that said the man began to walk away.

  Freddy wanted to ask the man who he was, why he had come to him, what he wanted, but Freddy did not have the words.

  "By the way, I did not and never have escaped from an insane asylum." The man said and continued walking further into the distance. Freddy hadn’t said anything to the man about the insane asylum, he had only thought it. How did he know?

  Then Freddy heard something loud approaching from the east. It was an unusual sound that Freddy had not expected to hear.

  -

  Rod was just walking out of the police station when he heard the noise. It was a noise that he had heard several times, but this time it was coming in from the wrong direction. It was a helicopter, which were not uncommon in Medusa. A few times every month the hospital would have to fly someone out of town to one of the hospitals in Peoria. This helicopter was not one of those, this one was moving in from the south. The rescue choppers always came from the north, unlike this one. This was a News helicopter; it flew over the city and back down toward the country side. Once it had gone over the Lovett property it took a sharp turn and headed back toward the town. He watched the helicopter fly overhead again and move off into the distance. Rod’s stomach began to turn. Rod was not ready for the media attention that was on its way. He had no interest in having reporters ask him and the people of Medusa random questions. In his opinion it was going to do nothing but make it harder for him to investigate.

  He had no idea what kind of attention the murders would get; the media would of course suck the life out of the fact that the murderers were similar to the one five years ago. This was exactly what Rod did not want to have happen. Medusa was a fine town deserving of attention, but not like this. Rod stepped back into the station and wiped sweat from his forehead.

  "You alright?"

  Rod turned to see Clara observing his unusual appearance. He felt as if the entire world was crumbling around him. He had to stop this thing from killing the people of his town, but he had no clue what to do. All he knew was that it was not human and only seemed to need to feed when the moon was full. The thought that it might be a mythical beast created in folklore ages ago, did creep up in the back of his mind, but he could not utter its name.

  "I am fine." He answered although he did not feel fine at all.

  Clara got up from her desk and slowly waddled over to him. "Listen, everyone in this town is going crazy over this. It is all anyone wants to talk about."

  Rod listened closely to Clara’s down home mid-west accent.

  "It is putting a strain on everyone, but you most of all. You can’t let this beat you down. You have to make sure that you are okay."

  "I am okay."

&n
bsp; "Now listen here, I have known you since you were knee high to a duck. Your father was an upstanding police officer. It was a pleasure to work with him, I know for a fact that he doesn’t want you to act this way."

  He could not help but smile, every time he was reminded of his dad. He and his father had been close, and his he always seemed to know what to do. He wondered what his father might have done in his situation.

  "A lot of people depend on you for protection. You need to stay firm and let them know you are doing the best you can to protect them. Don’t beat yourself up over anything."

  "Thanks Clara." Rod said and softly gave her a little hug. Rod accepted what she had to say although a proud voice in the back of his head told him he did not need anyone’s advice.

  He then moved his attention out the window toward Main Street where he saw a news van pull up. A few moments later there was another. The third would not show up until later that day.

  As Rod continued to watch the activity going on across the street, Dusty Welker randomly walked by the window and came in the main entrance. A visit from Dusty was going to be most appreciated considering he had not spoken to him much lately.

  "Hey there stranger." Rod said with a friendly gesture.

  Dusty gave a small quick smile, and then it was gone.

  "Do you have time to go on a ride with me?" Dusty asked.

  "You know Clara and I were just talking about how I could use a break. So, yes I will take a ride with you."

  Rod turned to Clara who had a silly smile on her face because she was not sure if Rod was being serious or sarcastic. The truth was that Rod wasn’t sure as well.

  As Rod and Dusty exited the police station a reporter and camera man surrounded them. The reporter was speaking so quickly and loudly that Rod could hardly understand him.

  "I have no comment at this time." Rod said the same way he had seen several others answer reports on television.

  Once in Dusty’s truck, they drove away leaving the reporters behind.

  "This place is sure turning into a three ring circus isn’t it?"

  "Yeah, I have a feeling it is going to get worse before it gets better." Rod said with irritation in his voice.

  "It isn’t my business, but what have you learned about the Parker girl murder?"

  "The autopsy report should be back in anytime now, I expected it a couple weeks ago actually. Why do you ask?"

  Dusty looked oddly nervous and uncomfortable.

  "I just…"

  "Say what you want to say Dusty." Rod said in response to Dusty’s silence.

  "I didn’t see her body, and I don’t have any interest, but seeing Ryan Lovett’s body was terrible. It was as awful as my dog Zero, except it was a hundred times worse because it was a person."

  "I doubt there is any connection." Rod began to lie, but was abruptly cut off by Dusty.

  "Don’t fool yourself Rod, you know there is a connection. You also know that this isn’t some deranged serial killer. This is some kind of living creature, trying to kill everything in its path."

  Rod was surprise by his friend’s words; he had no idea what to say.

  "You know I am right, Rod."

  "I don’t know. It is just hard for me to wrap my head around."

  "I saw Ryan’s body. What was left of it, no human did that. That was caused by an animal, a creature, something deadly…something evil."

  "I know what you are saying."

  "Do you?" Dusty looked at him closely. "I think you need to investigate this from a different angle. I know I am not a cop, and I have never investigated a single crime in my entire life. I am just saying I think you should treat this different."

  Rod respected Dusty’s judgment and had already decided to handle everything differently, and with great compassion.

  After Dusty was finished explaining his concerns he dropped Rod off at the station and left. Inside Rod studied the pictures of the paw prints he had taken on the Lovett property. This was the print of the thing that killed Ryan, Duane Ensig, and Gabrielle Parker. It was growing more clearly to Rod now, and made more sense each day. Rod had to find out more about this print, he got on the phone and began making phone calls. It took him an hour, but he was able to find a professor in the agriculture department who also taught animal science at the university. His name was Clive Falcone, and after explaining to Falcone the rare prints he had found, Falcone was willing to meet with him to see the photos.

  -

  Rod drove out of town and met the professor at a small coffee shop in the middle of Webster. Clive Falcone seemed like an understanding individual and was more than willing to listen to everything Rod told him. Rod removed the photos from a file folder and laid them on the table. Clive studied them for a moment and then suddenly stopped.

  "Is this connected to the girl that was killed in Medusa?"

  Rod answered him simply and plainly stating that he was not at liberty to say. Falcone went on to tell him that this animal was extremely rare. Falcone could not tell him exactly what the animal was though. To this, Rod could not understand. Falcone did his best to explain that the print seemed to belong to a canine, but certainly not a dog. He continued to explain that he had never seen a dog or wolf that size. He also doubted that it was a regular wolf print because no wolf had ever been implicated in a human killing. In most cases humans probably scared them more than they do us.

  "I don’t really want to sound like an asshole professor, but you aren’t really telling me anything here."

  A look of complete and utter shock came over professor Falcone’s face.

  "Are you telling me that I am the first person you have spoken to about these prints?"

  "That is about the size of it." Rod replied.

  "I don’t really know what to tell you Officer. You have a horrifying creature that could be the size of a bear. You need to speak to someone with more ability then me. If this thing is as powerful and deadly as I think it might be, you need to move fast."

  "Should I call animal control, or a dog catcher?" Rod asked cynically.

  "Of course not, but someone other than myself needs to know about this. You need to contact someone who can actually do something about this."

  "Okay, well do you have the phone number for Werewolf Hunters Inc??

  "I am only trying to tell you what I think you should do Mr. Truex. If you do not like what I have to say, I guess you do not have to listen."

  “If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself." Rod said as he got up from the table and walked out the door.

  Professor Falcone did not understand Rod Truex’s words. He felt that if he did not do something more that Mr. Truex’s life would be one of the next to be taken. But, after Mr. Truex’s rude manner he would not soon be doing anything to benefit him.

  That night was an average quiet night in the Russell household. The kids went to sleep at nine, and Matthew went to bed at ten like he usually did, but on this night he did not go straight to sleep. He laid in bed and waited for Marcy. She took her time cleaning up around the house and enjoyed a little bit of light reading in the living room. She finally went upstairs to join Matthew in the bed a little bit after eleven o’clock.

  Matthew waited patiently until he was sure that Marcy was asleep. Once he was positive that she was sound sleeping, he crept out of bed and made his way down stairs. The house was dark and unpleasantly quiet, Matthew had always considered himself a fairly honest man and was not used to sneaking around.

  He finally came to the kitchen where Marcy’s cell phone was sitting on the counter charging. Matthew picked up the Motorola flip phone and began going through her recent calls. He saw calls from himself and calls to her mother, nothing out of the ordinary at all. He then went on to the text messages. First he checked her inbox, but saw nothing but messages to her mother and a few friends. Matthew then went over to the sent messages, but assumed that she probably cleaned her phone out ahead of time. He was correct; there was nothing worth
looking at. Matthew was relieved, but also a little frustrated. He had almost wanted to find something. He usually did not get suspicious of things for no reason.

  Matthew put the phone back down on the kitchen counter and walked away. He turned the corner to go back upstairs, but suddenly stopped. A thought then cross his mind. There was something he had not looked into. He immediately turned back to the kitchen and picked Marcy’s cell phone back up.

  Quickly he went to the photos in her phone. The first few he saw were pictures of he and her, then some of the kids playing in the back yard, then another one of the kids playing in the kitchen. Matthew was starting to believe that he wasn’t going to find anything here as well. Then he stumbled upon some pictures of Marcy herself dressed in skimpy clothing. One of them was a green bikini she rarely wore anymore. The next photo was one of her topless; things were starting to get interesting.

  It was then that Matthew scrolled over to the next picture. It was of a large erect penis.

  The photo made Matthew’s blood boil. He could feel his face turning red. He had not been this angry in his entire life. He was ready to kill Rod Truex; his first impulse was to drop the phone and go straight to his house and kill him with his bare hands. Matthew than thought about his kids, if he were to kill Rod Truex he would lose them. Matthew might not have been winning a father of the year award anytime soon, but he truly did love his children. He was going to have to be careful with how he handled this. He could easily go get his 22-250 rifle and take care of Rod right then. Matthew tried to use some sound judgment. Going completely nuts was not the way he needed to handle this. He knew it, and knew he had to handle it in a completely different manner.

  Revenge is a dish best served cold,

  Matthew remembered the expression. He smiled, he had no interest in waiting too long. This is a plate of revenge that might have to be served up at mild or room temperature at best, certainly not cold.