Uncle Tony was never like this, he never said no to family or his best pals and never showed a sliver of sadness and anger towards any of us; We always thought some switch just suddenly flicked within him and I guess I finally know why.
It all began on the summer of 89’ in our rural hometown when 11 y/o me, older 17 y/o bro, dad and him went out for the hunting season. Though old our town was tiny, it was very well known across the state for the plethora of game which peppered across the gorgeous Ohio river, sometimes in the peak season people all over the country flock and try their luck and pride for what Mother Nature sets up for grabs.
This is no exception for Uncle Tony, though a little broken up his noggin the man was as eccentric than anyone I knew and was lighting in a bottle for all of us which we very much enjoyed his company. He’s practically a nut on all conspiracies such as aliens, inside jobs and whatever you can thin of, though we always go out every year, this season was out the ordinary for him as he told us we were hunting for some urban legend called “small-foot”.
Of course many of us already saw the bullshit in him but there was really no fuss to some family bonding with him along the way? So we went ahead and gone, the season saw record breaking temperatures in sweltering heat due to some recent wildfires, but nothing really did kill the mood as we still looked forward to driving off in the long 4 hour drive.
It was off to where we would mostly go but he took us to another small and much remote spot off the path which required us to disembark our truck and head off on foot eastward; Apparently he was tipped off from some of his buddies whose sighted the thing a couple weeks back, still, none of us were fazed as we saw the eagerness and excitement in the guy which we of course could not ignore.
After a couple more hours we set up camp beside a small riverbed where each and one us prepared for the first night; Me and my brother pitched the tent, dad prepared tonights supper and Uncle Tony eagerly sets up his rifle and suddenly bolts out of the site, whilst my dad erupted and screamed at the guy
“HEY TONY WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING, GET BACK HERE MAN!!!”
By then it was too late, he already wandered off too far where the dense canopies already suppressed much of the noise. It was then a couple of hours later where after we already had our supper, he suddenly showed up in excitement
“I fount it! West-side by the Ridgeline! Little shit was fast as hell though, could’ve busted a shot!!”
His excitement was insatiable and difficult to cool off especially among a already pissed off dad, being the most sensible individual of the group, he immediately put some sense on the guy and convinced him to leave as a group by dawn rather than venturing off again as a madman.
As we woke up and struggled to regain our consciousness from the rough night’s sleep, Uncle Tony was still the same as last night, awake, alert and even more eager, at this point we assumed the man must’ve been truly out of his noggin. And so we left off, with him guiding us upfront like the pied piper he is.
After what felt like a eternity, we finally reached where he last saw the thing, being me and my brother already exhausted, my dad asks his brother to stay put rest for a bit so we can finally start tracking “it”. Obviously it fails to get his attention as he immediately jolts and runs off to the shrubs where my dad, already tired of his bullshit, gives chase.
We also followed though along the thick and hot vegetation as we struggle to keep pace with the two of them, after a climbing a small hillside our tired and already sweaty selves were greeted by a wrestling match between the pair
“TONY!” muffled dad, “WHAT THE FUC- IS WRONG WITH YOU!!”
He was already too tired of his bullshit and chaotic enthusiasm, he quickly tried to wrestle the gun off Uncle Tony while on top of him and as he tried to pin him down, he quickly hissed back
“MARTY! Quiet and get the fuck back away from me! On your damn left!!!”
He quickly disengages and is dropped on the side by his own brother, his face quickly fades from frustrated to a look of horror.
“Holy shit-“ he muttered
Me and my brother quickly approached them with each of us being signalled to lay low and get down, side to side, Uncle Tony point out the near distance, maybe 50 yards across, a small and tiny furry silhouette of a animal upon a cliffside.
“Look at that!” whispered Tony as he points he finger at the strange figure
“IT’S STANDING BY HIS FUCKING LEGS! IT’S HIM”
A moment of disbelief, me, my brother, and dad stared in awe, our words were held by the sight we witnessed. Meanwhile, Uncle Tony takes aim and prepares a shot
“Lemme just set it in, little to the left, on the head it’s all quick and easy” precisely muttering to himself
The figure continues walking, I could see a little bit on what it looks like but it’s too far to tell, easily I could assume it may be a lost bear cub or maybe something else. A shot then echoes.
“Bingo” muttered Tony in relief
The figure suddenly lets out a loud and excruciating scream, not of a rough and brash voice of an animal, but rather very child-like in nature, It looks like it’s abdomen has been shot as it bleeds while it sets out a fast and painful stride which it struggles to get away while continuing to cry in pain, it almost sounds like a damn kid.
Trying to process the whole scene, suddenly, another shot echoes and the creature drops down. It wasn’t the scream or the way the thing moved that haunted me the most but rather the blood curdling gags of it’s vocal chords which struck to me that this wasn’t an animal.
“HOT DAMN DOG WE GOT THAT SONNA BITCH!” Uncle Tony screamed triumphantly, running to the corpse
My dad instructed us to stay put while he tried to analyse the scene, Uncle Tony inspects the catch by flipping it over and immediately disfigures it by decapitating it off the body
“Ohhh Marty! this right here is gonna be on my wall” he cried while flipping the head furthermore
As my dad approaches closer, Uncle Tony’s face immediately wipes off from enthusiasm to pure horror, I can still remember it as I’ve never seen the poor guy in such as state, but he immediately backs off and lashes back at my dad.
“BACK AWAY MARTY! BACK AWAY!”
Both the creatures decapitated parts in hand, he tosses it over the cliff and drops down and cries in horror, rapidly wiping the blood of his hands and cursing himself; My dad immediately consoles him and we all leave the area, back to our campsite.
I don’t remember much after that, but we all went back home where he was practically never the same, after that day he never went back hunting or ever left his house which eventually led to his wife’s divorce and his suicide a year ago; It is only today on his anniversary where I finally know why after looking though his personal belongings, with that being his journal.
It was peppered with all sorts of jargon, but what I found most obscene was the creature which he hunted on that very day.
It wasn’t a animal nor a creature
Titled “I’m sorry” was a newspaper cutout of a missing child
“MISSING PERSON, 6 y/o, Autistic boy, Last seen January 1989, wearing Winnie the Pooh costume after bday party”
My uncle murdered a child.