The werewolves were not letting up in their pursuit despite the constant blasts from Jack’s gun. Autumn had to slow down again as they rounded another sharp curve and that was all it took for two of the creatures to leap onto the roof of the car.
“Get down!” Frank shouted at the others as he pushed Jack to lay flat on his back. An instant later, an earsplitting ripping sound filled the interior of the hearse as sharp, black claws tore away the metal of the roof.
Jack tried desperately to pull his rifle up to fire, but had somehow pinned it underneath his leg when his father had pushed him backward.
A heavy explosion sounded to Jack’s right and he knew the Old Man had gotten his hands on another .45. A shower of blood rained down on the two men in the back of the car and Jack caught just a glimpse of the creature‘s body as it rolled off the back of the hearse. A large, bloody hole had been made in it‘s chest.
The sound of crashing glass caught both of the men’s attention and their blood covered clothes were quickly forgot-ten. The second werewolf had put a hairy, clawed hand through the passenger side window and was trying to pull Benny out of the car.
Frank quickly stood up and peered through the new moon roof the first wolf had created. He took the only shot he had and a second later the creature was yelping from the slug that entered it’s ass.
Using it’s claws to steady itself, the werewolf turned it’s attention on the Old Man. Another shot from the .45 sprayed werewolf brain across the colorful leaves that littered the road side. The creature’s headless body tumbled off the hearse and Frank dropped back down through the opening.
Autumn had finally pulled onto the main road and was beginning to pick up speed. A few of the more determined werewolves stayed on their tails but were quickly disposed of by Jack’s AK-47.
Soon there wasn’t a werewolf in sight and the Writemans were back on the road, all of them breathing hard and letting the adrenaline drain from their bodies.
Frank looked around at his family and abruptly shouted; “I don’t know about you guys, but that was about the most goddamned fun I’ve had in my whole life.”
The others looked at the old man in disbelief for a moment, but their faces soon gave way to relieved laughter and Autumn kept driving west until dawn.
9. Anderson, Fields, and Sanctuary
Molly Holden had been cleaning the Writeman bank building for five years now and she’d gotten to the point where she moved through her work without much thought. Her job was far from glamorous and the shear monotony was enough to bring her to the edge of insanity at times. So, when she found the four dead bodies on the floor of Mr. Writeman’s office, her shock was accompanied by a shameful feeling of glee at the prospect of some excitement in her otherwise dreary life. She still managed a scream as she ran from the office to the receptionist area to dial 911.
Detective Gloria Perez of the Triloville Police De-partment arrived on the scene an hour later, when the forensics team was well into their investigation. Her partner, Detective Eric Peterson (who was still a little wet behind the ears in his second year as a detective) was currently combing the streets for Mr. Frank Writeman and his two sons, who, as it so happened, no one had heard from since Saturday afternoon at the conclusion of Benjamin Writeman’s wife’s funeral.
Detective Perez went through the violent mess with the proverbial fine tooth comb, taking great care to search every inch of the large office. When she had finally finished, nearly four hours had passed and she was left with more ques-tions than answers. When she saw the security tapes, things began to become clearer. Unbelievable, yes, but clearer none the less.
She was in the middle of combing the crime scene for a second time when her partner showed up. “Gloria,” he yelled, stepping off the elevator.
“Hey, Eric, did you find out anything useful?” she asked.
“I don’t know if it’s useful, but there is definitely some weird shit going on in this town.”
“I’m going to have to agree with you on that one. You go first.”
“Okay, first I sent a squad car to each of the Write-man’s houses. No one was home at any of them, but Frank and Ben’s trucks were found parked at Jack’s House.”
“And Jack’s car?”
According to his secretary he had a pimped out hearse in the garage, it is the only vehicle missing.”
“I’m sorry, did you say pimped out?”
“Yeah, you know, customized. Flames down the side, cool rims.”
“Alright, I got it.”
“Also, Ben Writeman’s house had been disturbed since his wife’s murder investigation.”
“Burglars?”
“Doubtful, nothing of value was missing, mostly just cloths, strangely enough, a lot of them were Autumn Write-man’s cloths.”
“Do you think the husband took them for sentimental value?”
“It is a possibility, but after I arrived at the house other evidence was found that pointed to anoth-er…possibility.” Detective Peterson looked unsure of how to proceed.
“Go on.”
“There were very faint, muddy shoe prints inside the house, coming in from the front door, into the kitchen, and finally up the stairs to the master bedroom, which is where we found the muddy shoes.”
“And?”
“Size six, women’s dress shoes. From there we en-tered the master bathroom where we found the muddy dress that Autumn Writeman was buried in.”
“Strange,” Gloria said.
“Yeah, it gets worse. We then proceeded to track the prints back to the source. As we walked down the sidewalk the tracks became more and more defined, and there was more and more mud around them. The tracks took us to the foot of Autumn Writeman’s empty grave.”
Gloria Perez looked horrified. “He dug up his wife’s body?”
“Oh, no. No, it was pretty obvious the grave was dug from the inside out. Remember the shoe’s.”
“Right,” Detective Perez said, dreamily. “The shoes.”
“I know it sounds crazy,” Eric said “but that’s what we found. I thought it may be possible she wasn‘t dead, but she wouldn‘t have been able to break through the coffin plus a few feet of dirt.”
She looked at him with a sympathetic grin. “It doesn’t sound that crazy.”
“What do you mean?”
“Follow me, I’ll show you what I found.”
Eric followed his partner to a shattered window at the front of the office.
“This window was busted from the inside,” she be-gan. Looking out the window, Eric could see the broken glass lying on the pavement below. “There’s no evidence as to what busted it, but there was no glass found on the inside of the office and no foreign objects below. It’s as if something or someone went through this window and just floated away.”
“Stray bullets?”
“Come over here.”
Gloria led him to the left hand wall, which was rid-dled with bullet holes. “9mm slugs,” she said, “the most this caliber would have done to glass that thick is cracks, maybe a hole, they wouldn’t have shattered it like that. Now look at this. Do you notice anything strange about this bullet?”
She held up a slug that was dug out of the wall. Eric looked at it for a moment then shook his head.
“It’s made out of silver,” she continued.
“Oh yeah,” the younger detective said in awe.
“Then there are the bodies.” She bent down over one of the bodies and her partner did the same. “The coroner had trouble placing the time of death. He said their bodies ap-peared as though they had been dead for years but were somehow preserved, no decomposition, the wounds are clean, no blood flow, just a black hole where the bullet entered. And finally, there’s this.” She pulled the man’s upper lip back to reveal a small pair of incisors above the normal ones. Then, she applied pressure above the strange teeth and they came down over the others.
“There are muscles connected to these teeth. They move their faces in a cert
ain way and the muscles push these teeth down.”
Detective Eric Peterson was staring at the hideous teeth with a mixed look of shock and terror. “Vampires?” he whispered.
Gloria only nodded her head.
“That can’t be,” Eric continued. “Surely, this is part of some elaborate prank.”
“As much as I’d like to believe that myself,” Gloria returned, “our final piece of evidence is perhaps the most con-clusive and most disturbing part of this case.” She then led Eric to a corner of the office where a TV and VCR were set up.”
“This is the security tape from Saturday night, watch closely,” she said, pushing play on the VCR.
The picture on the screen was snowy for a second, and then Mr. Writeman’s office came up from a diagonal angle behind the desk. Frank Writeman could be seen rummaging through his drawers and packing things into a small satchel as if he were preparing for a short business trip. Suddenly, the door opened and Frank Writeman stopped what he was doing, looked up from his desk, and began to hold a conversation with someone who, as far as Detective Eric Peterson’s keen eye’s could tell, wasn’t actually there.
“Keep watching,” Gloria said, “it gets better.”
Eric watched the old man as he pulled a gun from his belt with astonishing quickness and fired in four different di-rections. Then he leveled the gun at the door and appeared to talk a little more before he started firing again.
“See,” Gloria said in Eric’s ear, “he doesn’t fire at the window, but it shatters anyway, with no reason at all. Unless there was a fifth man, a vampire that jumped through that window and…”
Eric watched the bank owner pull a second gun and fire double fisted around the room, then the window shattered, seemingly on its own.
“Turned into a bat and flew away.” Eric finished with an astonished look on his face.
“Maybe.”
Gloria and Eric stared at each other in stunned silence that was only broken by a uniformed officer urgently bustling through the door.
“Detectives, more bodies have been found.”
“Where?” Gloria asked.
“We secured a warrant to enter Jack Writeman’s house where twelve more men were found shot and killed. There’s also a report that just came in from a farm just outside of Omaha, Nebraska. A farmer discovered what could only be described as a massacre deep in his cornfield and in the graveyard behind it.”
“Is there anything that would connect those murders to the ones here in town?” asked Detective Peterson.
“Sixty eight bodies were found; men and women,” the officer continued, “all of them were naked, a few were cut into pieces, but the rest were shot with silver bullets.”
The two detectives exchanged a surprised look.
Gloria Perez thanked the officer and dismissed him. Once he was gone she turned to her partner and asked; “What should we do?”
“Isn’t it obvious? The Writeman family is on a mur-dering spree the likes of which this country has never seen. We have to stop them one way or the other.”
“But, look at what their killing. Vampires! And in what story in your entire life have you heard about nude vam-pires attacking anyone?”
Eric thought about it a moment, “I can’t really think of any.”
“That’s right. Now, what about werewolves?”
“Oh, come on, Gloria, this is getting a little ridicul-ous.”
“Those bodies in Omaha were found outside in the sunlight. If they were vampires they’d have been fried, but instead they reverted back to human form. The bodies that were found here in town were all indoors. You’re saying you don’t believe all of the evidence that you’ve seen.”
“I’m saying; before we go and jump to conclusions about mythical creatures, we should eliminate any other possibilities. Regardless of the reasons why the Writemans are killing people, they are still killing people and it is our job to stop them.”
Gloria sighed through her teeth. “Your right.”
“Besides,” Eric continued, “when it comes right down to it, there’s probably a perfectly logical explanation for all of this.”
“Your partner’s right, ma'am” A deep voice bellowed from the doorway.
The two detectives jumped and turned to see a pair of large men in sharp, grey suits standing in the doorway.
“Sorry if we startled you,” the black one said in a slightly higher tone than his friend. “I’m Agent Anderson and this is my partner, Agent Fields, we’re with the FBI, and we are officially taking control of this case.”
The two detectives exchanged a disappointed look.
“Is there nothing we could do to help?” Gloria asked.
“I’m afraid not,” Agent Fields said in his deep tone. “We’re with a special branch of the FBI that deals specifically with these types of strange cases.”
“What, like the X-files?” Eric asked, with a nervous laugh.
“Well, kind of,” Fields continued, “but we really don’t care for that comparison. We believe there is always a reasonable explanation for these strange occurrences, and in most cases, we find that explanation.”
“And in the other cases?” Gloria asked.
“Sorry?”
“You said ‘most cases’, what about the others?”
“I’m sorry, we cannot answer anymore questions. Now if you would please leave us, my partner and I would like to proceed with our investigation.”
The two detectives were then rushed to the elevators by the two agents.
“And remember,” Agent Anderson said before the elevator doors close, “this case is now officially top secret. It would be very unwise for you to talk about it or pursue it any further.”
Something in the agent’s eyes absolutely terrified Gloria Perez, and she and her partner (along with every other officer involved in the case) never spoke of this day to each other again. Eric was so intimidated by the agents that he de-cided to forget this day ever started. Gloria, however, was too intrigued by the whole thing to give it up so easily. She may have to investigate on her own time, but she still had too many questions that needed answered.
With the two detectives finally out of their way, Agent Anderson and Agent Fields went to work.
Right about the time Benny and the others were es-caping the werewolves, a man with no name (at least not one that anyone would remember) was running for his life down a steep hillside somewhere in Colorado.
Though the full moon shone down from the sky, the stranger had a hard time seeing through the dense forest sur-rounding him. His feet kicked up hundreds of dead leaves, slightly slowing his progress, but he knew he was nearing the bottom of the hill, he may just get away.
Suddenly, a large figure draped in shadows dropped down in front of him. The creature brought itself up to full height (which had to be close to nine feet) and glared down at the stranger with red, glowing eyes.
The stranger made a move as if to run around the monster, but with a speed blurred motion the thing’s arms shot out, revealing giant, bat like wings.
“RAAAAAAH!” the creature screeched. The sound was like ten thousand fingernails running down a blackboard.
Terrified, the man screamed until his lungs were empty. The bat-thing grabbed the man’s head in one hand and his left shoulder in the other, lowered its head, and sank it’s vampire teeth into his neck.
As the monster drank, it’s ears began to twitch as someone new, but not entirely unexpected entered the woods. The creature dropped it’s victim and turned toward the new-comer. The thing began to shrink, it’s bat wings becoming a flowing black cape, it’s monstrous facial features becoming the face of a handsome and wise middle aged man. Soon the horrific monster looked more like a New York City power broker.
“Welcome, Odin Sway,” the handsome man said with a kind smile. His accent was ancient and difficult to place. “I’ve been expecting you.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt the hunt, my lord,” Odin said, with a bow.
“Please, Odin, it is always a pleasure to see one of my brightest children.”
“A situation has arisen my lord, and I find myself in need of your guidance and wisdom.”
“Walk with me,” the Vampire lord motioned to his prey and Odin walked to the limp body and flung it over his shoulder with ease. “I am well aware of your current situa-tion,” the vampire lord continued, “and I am fully prepared to offer you sanctuary at my home.”
“I am most grateful to you, my lord,” Odin said as they walked back up the incline, “and I do apologize that things got so out of hand.”
“Of course, Odin, I do not blame you. I only regret that your masters were killed, I would have liked to been able to deal with them myself. You are welcome to stay with me for as long as you’d like. I have a meeting with Deppleo later and I will confer with him about the right solution to this prob-lem. He is not pleased with the attention we’re getting from the Writemans, and others who have discovered their handy work.”
Odin Sway had never met Deppleo, but he couldn’t help the shiver that rose up the spine he always got at the mere mention of his name. Not much was known about the vampire god, except the various deeds he was responsible for throughout history, and absolutely no one knows what he looks like. Only the twelve vampire lords were ever allowed to meet with him, and even then he was not seen. It was always rumored amongst the lesser vampires that he’s able to control the very shadows around him, always keeping himself shrouded in darkness.
“The only thing that is still a mystery to me,” the vampire lord continued, after a few minutes of silence, “is how they are able to track you so well?”
“It’s the dead girl,” Odin provided.
The vampire lord stopped walking and turned to look at his old friend. “What dead girl?”
“The one I…killed, she has returned from the dead. She has some sort of psychic connection to me; I’ve felt her in my mind.”
Avenging Autumn: Seasons Change Book 1 of 4 Page 9
