That Sunday morning, church service would begin. Everyone in the town would be together to listen to the priest speak. Like the McKibbens, Father William O’Finn was from Ireland, and had the fire of only the best priests, full of faith but also kindness and seeking only to be within the service of God.
“Yes, at that moment, Job had lost everything: he lost his family; he lost his house; he lost his own health; he lost his dignity. But even in all of that hardship brought on by the devil, did Job abandon the Lord? No. No, Job stood strong. His faith burned brighter than ever, for he knew that no matter what evil the devil or his works did, Job was still strong in his faith. And at the very end, Job was restored. His family was restored to him. Oh it would be very easy to lose faith. After all, there is so much bad in the world. It would be easy to believe that the Lord has forsaken us.”
Father William held his hands up and smiled warmly.
“Ah, but being faithful is never the easy way, but it is the right way. The Lord does not break his covenants, and we must not doubt him. The kingdom of heaven stands eternal against the forces of darkness. We must stand just as defiantly against the forces of sin and evil. Though the cold winters have always been a hardship upon us, Never forget that the Lord is with us, and through him, all things are possible. There is no mountain that we can not climb. No sea we can not cross and no enemy we can not defeat. Remember what I say here today durning not just winter, but all trying times. God is with you, and your rewards will be great. Amen.”
After church service had ended, the townsfolk would soon step out of the little building and return to their quiet day of rest. Every so often, a villager would go up to Father O’Finn and thank him.
“That was a very good sermon, father.”
Another would go to O’Finn. “You always have such a way with words.” They praised him. But for O’Finn it was business as usual. His faith in God was strong, and he would do everything in his power to teach.
The Mickibbens would go over to William and thank him personally. Christopher smiled and would pat William on his shoulder.
“Thank you, father. You have no idea how much that has relieved me.”
“Relieved you?”
O’Finn said with a great deal of concern in his voice as he crossed his arms and looked at Christopher.
“What's been troubling you, my son?”
Christopher shrugged and tried to brush it off as if it were a minor convenience.
“Oh it's nothing, father. Just had some restless dreams. No need to be concerned.”
William knew that Christopher would close himself off if there was something bothering him. He wouldn’t do anything that would pressure him too much, but he would still come from a place of concern for Christopher's wellbeing.
“I see. Well, If you need anything don’t hesitate to see me. I’m sure I can accommodate you for whatever you need, my son.”
Christopher nodded and smiled.
“Thank you very much, father.”
After exchanging pleasantries, business would go on as usual. New hope was a small rural town nestled in a small clearing. It was surrounded by the tall, majestic mountain range. The mountains gave the denizens of the village a sense of security and comfort. Thick trees rested on the village’s borders. There was a lake nearby that was only a few miles away from the village, and was easy to access. Though these settlers were not the only ones to call this place home. West of the lake, there was a tribe of natives that called that place home. New Hope often traded peacefully with these natives. The natives received horses and other livestock as well as a handful of guns and ammunition while the people of New Hope earned protection from the natives, locations on the best hunting areas, and other odds and ends that arose from this peaceful coexistence.
The tribe was related to the Cherokee, and were highly respected among the villagers. Most of the time both the tribe and New Hope would leave each other alone save for the aforementioned trade agreements. It was not exactly uncommon to see one every now and then, but when one came to trade with New Hope, it would be the talk of the town for a couple of days, as it would be for the tribe whenever one of the settlers came to them to trade. For all of their differences, New Hope and the native people were very much alike. They shared the mountainous area; ate, drank, lived and died all together in one harmonious community. Such an alliance was rare to come by in those days.
For a most uneventful Sunday afternoon after church, there would be talk around town over strange noises in the woods. The sounds of wolves and coyotes screaming in the woods became the new source of gossip in town. Sure, there were screaming animals during previous nights, but not like this. Usually it would be the sound of a fox calling out for a mate, or a Mountain Lion in heat. There was a feeling in everyone's stomach that something was not quite right. As if they could tell that the animals were screaming not out of courtship but for absolute fear. As if a theater caught fire and the entire crowd of people inside were in a panic trying to run away.
Christopher would be at home. Telling Elisha a story from the old country. The story of the Dobhar-Chú. The Dobhar-Chú was known as the “King Otter.” It was a creature in folklore that resembled a giant white Otter with a large black cross on its back. It was said to be the size of a dog, or even bigger, and they had a taste for human flesh.
“And so there he was. Ter was ready to set his trap for the great otter. He hid in the bush and waited very carefully. He heard the shrieks loudly as they slowly drew closer to the clearing. He waited patiently like a thief in the night. Then, there it was! The great otter leapt out and-”
A knock on the door interrupted Christopher’s story and spooked Elisha for a moment. Christopher sighed and ruffled the boy’s hair.
“Give me a moment, son.”
He stood up and went towards the door and opened it. It was old man Connor. Old man Connor had been in these woods since he was a boy and one of the founding members of New Hope. It was quite the unusual sight for him to be at Christopher’s cabin. Old man Connor was as ancient as they came. It was often a running joke that Connor was so old that by the time Adam and Eve were created, Old man Connor had already been gray and weary.
Christopher smiled and would greet the old man warmly.
“Mister Connor! Well this is an unexpected surprise. What can I do you for? You need to come in?”
Old man Connor shook his head and spoke with a gruff voice as if he had been gargling rocks since childhood.
“Actually, I was wondering if you can help me. Myself and O'Driscoll found something we want your opinion on. Something I ain’t never seen in all my years.”
“Well that's a first.” Chuckled Christopher, yet his smile dropped when he saw the grim face Connor had.
Christopher cleared his throat and nodded.
“I-Uh, I’ll tag along.”
He went to grab his coonskin cap and his rifle.
“Annie?! I’m goin out. I’ll be right back.”
Annie poked her head out from the laundry area outside of the house.
“Out? Where are you going?”
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Christopher pointed his thumb at Connor as he looked at Annie.
“Old man Connor. He wants me to check something out. I won’t be gone long.”
“Oh, okay. Well, be careful, love.”
She gave Christopher a peck on his cheek and he returned one to her before Christopher and Connor ventured off into the woods. Christopher asked repeatedly for what exactly it was that Connor and his mate found. All that Christopher would get were a few short grunts and single words that dismissed him. The old codger was always like that. He didn’t believe in talking unless it was absolutely important. When Christopher and Connor arrived at the Scene, O’Driscoll waved them over and shook Christophers hand.
“Aye, I see the old goat managed to find you.”
It was always hard to tell where O’Driscoll was looking thanks to his lazy right eye. You wouldn’t be able to tell if he was looking at you or something behind the trees next to you, which would put anybody on edge in these woods. There was always something dangerous in these woods. Something that could make short work out of any fool who believed they could contend with nature.
“He did.” Christopher said confidently.
“So O’Driscoll, what did you find?”
O’Driscoll beckoned Christopher to follow him with his index finger and led him over and pointed at the grizzly scene. Christopher held his mouth and gagged at the sight.
“Jesus Christ on the cross! What in God's name?!”
“Yeah.” O’Driscoll said flatly as he put some tobacco in a pipe and began to light it up.
“That's what we want to find out.”
What laid in front of Christopher was nothing less than an unusual and horrifying sight. It appeared to be the remains of some type of wolf or dog. All of its leg bones and ribs were broken and the marrow was sucked right through them. The skeleton of the beast was bloodied and mangled. Misshapen to the point that recognizing exactly what this creature was appeared to be a fruitless endeavor. The head was several paces away from the body and had its jaw ripped from it. The skull was cracked and missing several bits of flesh from it, yet still had a few patches of fur that clung to the body loosely.
The smell of the body was ungodly. Any man with a lesser stomach would either faint or wind up vomiting where they stood. To describe the exact smell would be to describe what the smell must be like in the lowest circle of hell where Lucifer devoured traitors, defecated them out only to eat them again for all eternity. It could not be understated that the smell was the most awful thing that anyone had ever smelt before. While much of the flesh had been torn and cut away, There was a strange pile of something that at first seemed to be a large and heavy stone, but examination proved it was anything but. It was a large solid clump of fur and bone. This was most likely the source of the awful smell. It consisted of leftover hair, Bone, Blood and feces that was roughly the same size as the animal that was so brutally killed and devoured. Christopher knelt down to examine what could only be described as an oversized owl pellet.
“What in the hell?” He whispered to himself as he held his breath.
O’Driscoll would explain.
“Old man Connor and I were hunting some deer when we stumbled on the smell. Thought you might know what killed this thing.”
“Gentlemen, I have no earthly idea on what freak of nature caused this much death. Whatever this thing was, it ate everything it could shove into its mouth. Even snapped the bones and ate the bone marrow. I’ve never seen an animal do this kind of killing. It ate everything: skin, hair and bones and then puked up what it couldn’t keep down.”
Old man Connor crossed himself.
“Mother of God…”
Christopher shook his head and stood up. Whatever this thing was, He didn’t believe it had anything to do with God. He looked at Connor and O’Driscoll and stepped away from the carcass to get some air. He didn’t want to be anywhere near the smell of that “pellet” that reeked.
“I’m heading back to my family. If you see anything else like this, let me know. If this thing can kill a wolf like this, it can kill a man with no problem.”
He ventured back into the direction of his cabin as Connor and O’Driscoll waved him off. The elder and the lazy eyed man looked at each other and felt a shiver up their spines. They would continue their hunt. Christopher would be alone as he walked in the woods, holding his rifle close beside him. The gun he had was a long rifle that had one shot loaded inside. Such a weapon would take a long time to load. In case he missed, all he had on his person was nothing more than a hunting knife. A quick thrust in the jugular and it would be over for most animals, if he were not obstructed by anything that is.
As he walked, he stepped on a twig and it made a very loud snap noise. Once he stepped on that he realized that once again there was no sound. The all consuming silence had once again stuck out like a sore thumb and became the only thing that Christopher could focus on. His breath heightened and became more intense. Christopher was not the type of man to fear any wild beast. He had nasty scars from other animals. He encountered wolves in his time spent hunting. Yet, he never felt this afraid, like some unnatural thing was waiting just behind a rock or a tree for the perfect moment to strike.
With the careful steady hand of a surgeon, Christopher pulled his rifle off of his back and began to look around quietly. If something was out there, he would put it down. He felt uneasy as time went on, slowly scanning the area with his rifle drawn. He could feel the hair on his neck slowly stand up and sweat pouring down his brow. He steadied his breathing, knowing that the biggest mistake he could make would miss. If he missed, his life would be over, he just knew it. His hands trembled as he felt like he was about to lose his edge. He continued to scan the area.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw something moving. He swore that it was tall and lanky. A massive figure shrouded by shadows that stood taller than him. He swung the rifle around and placed his finger on the trigger, yet when he pointed the gun at where he thought he saw the creature, it was gone. He swallowed hard and could hear the sounds of the forest once again. He moved his finger away from the trigger and let out a sigh of relief. He felt uneasy. He must have been stressed out. That unsightly carcass must have bothered him more than he originally thought. He returned his rifle on his back and carried himself along back home.
By the time Christopher returned home, Annie had finished all of the laundry work and noticed Christopher. Even from that distance she could see that something was wrong with her husband, so she went up to him. Christopher appeared to be in some state of shellshock. His hands trembled as he arrived home.
“Chris, what's wrong? You look like you’ve seen a banshee! What the hell did Old man Connor show you?”
Christopher shook his head, unable to figure out how to describe what happened.
“I don’t know what I saw. It was like an animal killing i’ve never seen before. I think it would be in our best interests if Elisha stayed within the house. I don’t know what's out there… but it scares me.”
Annie frowned and placed her hand on Christophers cheek. She gently rested her head on his chest and tried to comfort him in any way that she could. She had never seen him this worried over something. It was as if whatever he saw filled him with some sort of inescapable dread. As if you found one day that the grim reaper himself was standing right behind you, and if you dared to turn around for even a single moment, then you would suffer a fate worse than death.
Christopher felt that he needed to be calm in front of Elisha, and took in a deep breath once Annie let him go. He couldn’t let his son worry about him or anything that was going on. Whatever stalked the woods now was something that Christopher and the other men of the village needed to worry about. He wanted his child to remain innocent, and his wife and unborn child to remain safe. He made sure that his rifle was always loaded and would be kept far away from Elisha just to be safe.
The two went inside, unaware that they were being watched. Something from the woods stalked them, its antlers blending in and appeared as nothing more than gnarled tree limbs. The worst part about the thing's existence was that it had fleeting moments of lucidity. It knew what it was and how much it suffered. Even in this moment of clarity, the hunger was unending, but it resisted for as long as it could. The large creature ran deeper into the woods while it could still think and have a mind of its own.
But this moment of wakefulness would eventually end. The beast returned to its old ways once it was hungry enough. The thing was cursed in one of the worst ways imaginable. Existence was a constant pain. Had it the ability to, it would have killed itself. On many occasions when it was lucid, it tried to do just that. Death was a far better alternative to the abhorrent abomination the creature now was. It eventually realized that it couldn’t take its own life. It was as if something had forbidden it to commit suicide. It committed one of the worst sins its former brothers and sisters could imagine, and was now paying the price, as if it were a literal hell on earth.
Once the hunger returned the beast to its baser instincts, it sought to feed once more. It found a cave that would be a wonderful lair for it. The cave was home to a mother bear and her cubs. The black bears —if not slightly larger— were roughly the same size of humans. Yet the beast towered over the bear tremendously. A fully grown black bear was around 400 to 500 pounds of muscle. The beast stood two inches over eight feet when fully erect. Not that it needed to stand so tall. Much like the wolf, the creature slaughtered the mother bear with the greatest of ease.
It ravenously consumed her flesh. The creature was eternally starving, and ate the bear as viciously and as mercilessly as it always consumed. It was eating the bear while she was still alive, and even consumed her cubs. One of her cubs was swallowed whole, screaming all the way as it was shoved down its gullet. Like before, it went so far as to break the bones of the mother bear just to get at the marrow. It snapped the bones as if it were a twig with the force that would normally take ten times the strength needed to break a human’s bones.
After a short while, it vomited up the pellets of hair and bones. Once again, the beast was still not satisfied. It had another brief moment of sobriety and realized what it had done. It curled up in the corner and began to sob, beating the hard bony skull that was the creature’s face. Once again, it lamented its existence and begged to die. A prayer that would once again go unanswered.