I stepped onto the front porch holding out the hope that there’d be a basket of pastries and cookies; There was nothing there. It had been two weeks since the Gibsons had popped by. The Gibsons, our neighbors from the farm next to us, sported several more acres of land than our family and with how amazing the early elderly couple were, they deserved it.
Melvin and Maya baked together, even as Melvin’s mind slipped it was one of the only things he could remember from his 37 years of marriage with Maya. They always brought us lots of their baking, and in turn we all would help them out with things around their farm. Maya’s mind was sharp, even if both of their bodies were giving out. It was the least we could do for such lovely neighbors.
So when more than a week had passed with no calls or basket drop-offs, I knew something was wrong.
“Where are you going? Sun’s almost down,” mom asked me as I threw on some boots.
“Checkin’ on the neighbors,” I replied, stone faced.
“Oh I’m sure they’re just fine, their son and his wife were supposed to be visiting, right?”
I didn’t have a real response to that. Something felt wrong, but maybe I was expecting far too much from them. If they had family over I shouldn’t be so bent out of shape.
“Maybe you’re right,” I relented. “Perhaps it’s just that-”
Sirens rushing down the road cut me off. They were headed west. Towards the Gibson’s farm.
“When was the last time you heard those around here, ma?” I asked.
“Five months,” I got back. The reality did hit me. We were roughly twenty minutes south of Albany, and I probably haven’t been to Atlanta in maybe three months. I was grateful for my online friends, let alone having the internet in the first place.Which is why I’m writing what I’m writing.
“Jonah, where are ya going?” I heard my dad call out to me as I hurried into the truck. He’d been watering the tomato plants outside.
“Checkin the Gibsons!” I called back.
“Dammit, you’re gonna look silly when you crash their family bbq cause you was worried!”
“Explain the cops then!” I retorted before slamming the truck door and speeding west.
Melvin and Maya’s place was ten minutes away by vehicle. I had the windows down, and around the halfway mark I heard gunshots. I picked up speed, thrashing the poor truck on the dirt road.
I didn’t wanna be right, but sure as shit there were two cops and an ambulance parked outside of their place. I got out of the truck and rushed over. The law enforcement and paramedics were a little jumpy, and very pale.
“What’s going on..?” I asked much slower than I normally would. The sheriff looked back at the house, and that’s when I noticed the window had been smashed. The frame of the window was torn right off the house, too.
“An attack of some kind,” The sheriff told me. “It’s a gnarly scene there, kid. We suspect a-”
“Don’t bullshit him you saw it, too!” a much younger deputy called out. “That thing’s a monster!”
The sheriff sighed, giving this visibly shaken deputy a pat on the back. “We’ll see to it that someone destroys it.”
“A monster!?” I spat. “Y’all can’t be using that word lightly!”
“A big one, too,” the deputy rambled. “Damn thing took six of my bullets before it charged into the woods! I didn’t wanna believe it! Bigger than any bear I’d ever seen, and I damn well know it ain’t one!”
“Who are you anyways, kid?” the sheriff asked. “You shouldn’t be here, it’s dangerous.”
“The neighbor,” I said, pointing back down the road towards my house. I gestured to look around back, and I followed the sheriff and his deputy closely.
The Gibson’s crops were torn up in some spots, uprooted to be specific. There was a trail of blood smeared across a section of the field that led to a busted portion of their fence, trailing towards the woods and swamp. I wanted to check for tracks, but I was no detective nor would the police let me get close.
“I…did they make it?” I asked nervously. The sheriff shook his head, looking down at his badge shamefully.
“I don’t believe so, son. Couldn’t find a body to tell ya.”
I bit my lip, trying my hardest not to cry. I walked back to the truck and drove off. I couldn’t hold anything back and cried for most of my drive back to my place. I grew up with them always down the road, and they were kind and gentle souls. It was the type of loving marriage I envisioned myself having later in life.
My parents had finished eating dinner by the time I had gotten back. I quietly scarfed down some food on my own before telling my parents what I had seen. They were upset, for sure.
“They couldn’t find a body?” My dad asked. “That means that there’s a chance they might be alive.”
“I want to believe that, I do…but the amount of blood that was there…” I said. “I don’t think anyone could’ve survived that.”
“What are you going to do about it, son? You can’t go and fight this ‘monster’ or whatever that they said they saw.”
“They were good people. I can’t do nothing about it, pops.”
“Live a good life, for them at least. They’d definitely want that for you.”
A couple days went by, and I saw some vehicles pass our place to their property a few times. It was pretty quiet. I worked around our smaller farm, and helped my parents bring food to the nearby markets. Eventually their obituaries presented themselves in the newspaper.It was cited that Melvin, Maya, and their son and their daughter in-law all died from a bear attack. This ignited a fire of conviction in me. I wasn’t a sheriff or deputy or whatnot, but a “bear attack” was bullshit. I had to get to the bottom of it.I cared about the Gibsons. I wasn’t going to give up until I found out what really attacked them.
I drove to their property, much to my parents dismay, and saw nobody was there. Someone had boarded up the broken window, and I saw a toolbox laying about on the front porch. I hopped the fence behind the house and saw the smeared trail was drying up. Something was off, more of their crops were uprooted. There was also a vile smell in the air.
Whatever the thing was, it was here recently. I was also able to find some tracks.
Hooves. Larger ones at that.
“Couldn’t be a killer deer,” I chuckled to myself.
I circled back around the house and noticed something shocking on the side I hadn’t seen yet.There was a fresh trail of blood smeared towards the woods. Who was here recently that this thing killed?
I took a look and saw a small broken window that was halfway through being boarded up. Looking down at the trail, there were once again hoof tracks leading away from the house. I saw some torn denim, soaked in blood on the ground, as well as a screwdriver.
This thing killed whoever was patching the place up. I was too scared to follow the trail, I was unarmed.I checked the nearby barn that held their sheep and goats. They were massacred, dried blood everywhere. The only remains of any animal was in the form of a rotting goat carcass that was missing its backside.
In my disgust I thought of an effective but risky plan. I took the carcass back to my truck and drove back to the house.
Mom and Dad always were in bed early, and they were deep sleepers by 8:00pm. I did make an effort to be quiet with my sneaking, as I looted our compost, and added in some of the fresh tomatoes to my bucket of slop. I unlocked the gun safe, got the highest caliber hunting rifle, and loaded myself up with a handful of bullets. I grabbed a high powered flashlight for good measure, too.
The sun was still in the sky when I got back to the Gibson’s place. I took the carcass to the back of the house, dropping it on the blood trail. I dumped the compost slob on top, as well as the fresh tomatoes for extra measure. By the looks of it, the bait may not have been necessary but I wanted to speed things along.I managed to navigate the intact wooden railings on the back porch and climbed on top of the roof.
I got a view of most of their field, which was almost completely ransacked. I took out the gun and waited.
Nothing came for two hours. The moon was full with a clear sky; I didn’t even need the flashlight I brought. Disrespectful as it was, I also peed off the house towards the carcass. That was not part of the plan, but a part of me was glad I did.
About twenty or so minutes later I heard something from the woods. I quietly got the gun ready. It was a bear, and a pretty big one at that. No bear could’ve done this, right? It began sniffing where I had peed, as well as the bait I had laid out. I wanted to fire off a warning shot to scare it off. It was interfering with the “monster!”
As I prepared to fire off the gun, I heard a low grunt and snort from the woods. It was loud. Sounded like a wild boar, but not quite. I heard the sound of something slowly dragging through the underbrush. The bear noticed it, too, and ran away. A bear was running from something like a boar? What the hell?
It emerged from the woods and I understood why.
It was a massive boar, I’d argue it was taller and heavier than the bear. It didn’t have the thick hair your average feral pig had. No, it had a bristly mane but almost no hair on the sides. It looked like it had been stabbed or shot, its hide had dark, exposed holes. I could see from the moonlight that its tusks were stained with what I could make out was blood.
Its bloated gut dragged on the ground, and the thing wheezed each step it took. It reached the bait. Did it notice me? I took aim.
The thing began to heave and hack. First, a slew of blood and bile came from its mouth. It looked like it was struggling. Then something else came out of its mouth that will no doubt be burned into my brain for the rest of my life
.A set of flailing human arms.
They swayed as this creature heaved some more. More blood came out. The arms were hung up in its mouth, and tapped desperately on the snout. Oh god, the person it ate is still alive!?
I took aim and fired into its side. It gurgled and shrieked. It spat out more content that made me lose hope.
It opened its mouth wider and a slimy, half digested torso dropped onto the ground. It wasn’t done yet. It shook its head and the arms that were stuck in its teeth flung away.
It kept puking. A hammer, a half-melted hardhat, and two severed human legs came out of its mouth. It went back to the pile and began to gorge. This thing was simply making room.
No doubt, this was the monster.
Furious, I took another shot at it. I got it right in the ear. It squealed, and turned its gaze upward. Its cold, beady eyes locked onto me. I slowly began to back up, reloading another bolt into the rifle. It snorted and roared. It reared up at me, its oversized gut weighing it down. It began pacing from side to side, before charging towards the house.
It pressed its massive body against the house, and I could’ve sworn I heard some creaking from the wall. I took another shot at the top of its head, it drew blood, but I doubt it went close to the brain.It looked up at me, opening its massive, disgusting mouth. I instinctively gasped when I saw what was inside:
It was glinting in the moonlight, the gem on Maya’s wedding ring. My body must’ve moved on its own, because I don’t remember putting the flashlight in my hand, but before I knew it I turned it on and I couldn’t believe what I saw in the light.
The ring was attached to a slimy, mangled arm resting at the back of this thing’s throat. This monster pig ate her!
I screamed in terror and in rage and fired a shot into this thing’s mouth. It stumbled backwards, squealing and rolling. Its insides were still vulnerable. As I shakily went to reload, I realized I had ran out of bullets! Shit!
The giant pig squealed and roared. It took a few steps and began to retch once again. It vomited up Maya’s body, in pieces, before retreating into the woods. I could hear its gut dragging along the ground.
I was distraught, I could tell through the disgusting, slimy and bloody body that this was indeed one of my neighbors. It was far more gone than what I can only imagine was the gentleman who was patching the windows up.
I made it home, and my mind is still a bit hazy. I don’t think anyone is going to believe me when I tell them what killed our neighbors. I want to call the sheriff, hell even the military over. I cared so much about our neighbors in life, I want them to rest easy in death.
My parents didn’t even come out to scold me, they must have really been sound asleep. I wonder if anyone else heard the gunshots. Our other neighbours are fairly far out. My ears are ringing, my heart won’t stop beating, and my mind is racing far too quickly to fall asleep.
I knew it wasn’t a bear that devoured our neighbours. I wish it were so simple, but I wish nobody had to die in the first place.
If there’s more of those things out there, then I’m worried for us. When will that thing turn its attention towards our farm?I’ve been staring at my phone for about an hour now, ready to make a call.
I’ll be able to help them out just a little bit-By guiding them to the newest trail of blood, going into the woods.